Hey martial arts rant, haven't done one of those in a while. To maintain and train one dominant side, or work for being ambidextrous? That is the question. An old-school line of thinking might run on weapons-logic: it wouldn't make sense to split your muscle growth or training for using a bow from both sides, nor would you want to pull a sword left-handed and maim the guy next to you pulling his sword right-handed. But, on the other hand, in the Filipino martial arts, which almost always have a weapon in each hand, training both sides is a very necessary thing. Without weapons, there might be a line of thought where you train one side for one quality and the other side for another - jab with the left, power with the right, in boxing, for example. Or, say, in aikido, one side is trained simply because it's easier to learn the complex minutae involved and then have techniques separate for each side, for a variant on the boxing theme. But, to flip that around, karate and jujitsu generally make a point of training both sides - karate as a contrast to boxing, in switching sides in hopes of a more versatile and position-in-space manner of fighting, and jujitsu as a contrast to wrestling (being able to maintain a platform to still strike from the inside needing both sides versus needing a strong side to shoot from and lift).
      And where was I going with that? Um. Hm. I suppose I'll just call it a quick survey of the topic and leave it at that.

The Da Vinci Code, by Dan Brown. I kind of have mixed feelings about this one; I'd been holding back from reading it on the basis that it seemed everyone and the mother was reading it, but meaning to eventually nonetheless. But when a pretty gal up and hands you a copy, you can't hardly say no, right? Basically, my split is that I enjoyed the content immensely, but just couldn't really get into the writing style very much. If you're interested in the kind of art and religious history that the story centers around, there's all sorts of trivia and things to look up beyond the novel (even if it's just half to verify that Brown wasn't just making something up). This is a completely random reference, but if you want another fun yarn about the Grail (though in a more and yet also less traditional sense), look up To Sift Through Bitter Ashes, by David Wilson.

Definitely not for vegetarian eyes, and as much as I haven't been eating meat as much as I used to, I salute Weird Meat for trying new and crazy things!

Some new picpics

In the newspaper today there was an article about University of Arizona graduates staying in Tucson to work or open businesses. There wasn't anything particularly spectacular said about them, but more just gratitude and the author explaining why it was nice they chose to stay in or return to this city. Yay validation!

In talks with Ms. Connie, it came up that Stephen King sometimes has his characters become maimed in the course of the given story. My first response to this has usually been to be profoundly disturbed; say, for example, the gunslinger losing vital-to-his-existence-as-a-gunslinger fingers in the Dark Tower epic. The only explanation I've been able to come up with for this feeling is some sense of unfairness, but that's not really an explanation at all, and the rest of it is beyond me as of yet. The rejoinder to all that, courtesy of the same lovely gal who provided me with a copy of the second Dark Tower novel, is that in those characters being maimed, their story becomes less about what they do, and more about who they are in response to it. Ten points, to her, and to King for using it that way! Still haven't quite figured out why it initially bothered me so much, though.

Dry, but a straighter and simpler answer to questions about extended family relationships than I've ever gotten

I always try to maintain a little background project-helper program thingie on my computer, though sometimes the project finishes and a new one is hard to find - so, here's one! (it even works on Macs, a nice plus not often found with them)

One, sake apparently does have as wide a range in taste as they say it does. And hot sake is better than cold, and more expensive, dryer sake is way better than cheap stuff. Two, "Japanese" style restaurants where they cook everything right in front of you are hella expensive, but it might be argued that the given chef, however Caucasian, can make up for it with insane and possibly dangerous wielding, flipping, drumming, and spinning of kitchen implements, and/or food. Three: on a list of Bad Ideas, put down going to a country-western club while the rodeo's in town. The word crowded applies, to understate things. Still, I managed to learn the two-step. Oh yeah. I am a dancing machine. Except not really.

The Tao of Steve, with Donal Logue and Greer Goodman. I saw this a long time ago, but it's well worth multiple watchings. It's a very conversational movie, both in the sense that the conversations in the movie are a pleasure to listen to and in the sense that it would be easy to pause the movie regularly and have a conversation about what was just said in the dialogue. I think the viewer'd get a good deal more out of it if they've read from the philosophers quoted and used throughout the movie, but that's not really necessary to enjoy it. And fittingly, for a movie about relationships, the myriad of different kinds of relationships (which are all yet connected in meaningful ways) are quite interesting. Also, there are some great vistas from New Mexico, which reminded me of why I really do like the Southwest so much.

Libyan poet Khaled Mattawa, in translation

-still rough, but hey I'm posting it anyway, so there-

Blush

Her face blossomed shyly
like a rose, under the caress of my earnest gaze
and words. Her cheeks flushed
delicately velvet red, as if lit by candles,
and oh-
      the warmth
            of that soft tint
                  (a flower a-flame)
and oh-
      how I longed to kiss
            those petal soft lips
                  in that burning moment –

but with a murmur of her own,
      she closed, and cooled,
            like night.
And I left, with only
the scentcolor memory
of a blush.

A friend recently started teaching her first formal yoga classes, at Cactus Flower (south of Rudasill on Oracle, in Tucson, AZ), and I already noticed/learned an interesting thing from just one of her sessions. That is, she had us do several poses where we were reaching around ourselves, outside of our field of vision, to grasp specific points (arch of the foot or top of the thigh, for example).

The trick is, that seems all well and easy to reach around and say, clasp your hands behind your back; but trying to catch your foot with your diagonally opposite hand over your back while on one hand and one knee puts you in an entirely different mental space. For me, anyway, it was like my sense of vision had to practically shut down for a moment to be able to devote my attention to my balance and body-in-space senses to perform the twin tasks of finding my foot in the first place, and then maintaining that posture. It wasn't really a blindness, but such a dramatic shift of attention that it practically seemed so. At any rate, it was interesting.

In other news, twice now I've done these quiz thingies to determine my dosha, or my body type according to ayurvedic thought; and twice, I turned out to be 'tri-doshic,' or pretty much equally balanced between the three types. So, from one angle, I would think damn straight - I should hope I'm balanced, for the amount of effort I put into being so; but I don't really know whether that's a result of any effort on my part or simply the way my body is constructed. From another angle, where I might get the benefits of the good sides of each body/mind type, rather than just one, that means I might also run into the quandaries of all three types, so I have to be extra sure to maintain the balance, as there's more landmines to step on, as it were.

I always wanted to buy one of these back at the Biosphere 2, but for the prohibitive cost; no idea what the conversion rate for yen is, though...

Une gallerie en francais - Marc Simonetti

I'm curious to see whether the military will adopt this along with their other new equipment

Comments on new, unhealthy food, fun style

So I read an article about the symbolism of the component movements of one of iaido's forms, and then got this crazy idea in my head to experiment with that in a poem form. I'm not exactly sure I really like at all how it turned out, but here's what happened when I tried, at any rate:
------------
(the cuts she did not grace me with)

The first (no action without consequence), the blade slo
   wly d r a w n till
         thelastflash of
movement.               Warning, watching before
      decision      (hers, a sharp burning in the dark
         as she carved at my back)
and the unhealthy tickle, of blood, trickling
                                                                   unseen.

The second cut. Compassion.
      The intent to end my suffering.
            Her eyes were as a shark's, though:
blank with sullen incomprehension [apathy]
      as she watched me
                                       bleed.
Quite the conundrum, learning
to give oneself the killing blow.

Cleansing. Of blade. Of heart
      and mind, each slick with emotion and reaction;
of dirt in which I had thrust my sword(self)
      to lean on and stand again.

Sheathing. Letting the blade(soul) be
                     still.
                           The past put away.
Always yet
                  aware               of present
                              of future,

Name trivia time! So my mom's first name, Najwa, means "essence of love." Her maiden name, Ghanaim, means "treasures." But not just any treasure, interestingly, but specifically treasure gained as a result of conflict. Which, on a facetious level, could be an approximation of "booty" or "isorla" for anyone who gets the obscure sci-fi reference of the latter, and on a not-so-facetious level might be a statement of fact about some ancestor of ours, especially if we're descended from nomads as some of our relatives claim. Now, to jump over to my mom's name-by-marriage, Harris, in reading a recent National Geographic article on Celtic culture in modern times I found a mention of "the northern-most island of the Outer Hebrides" being named Harris. So, in light of that I'm curious as to whether we have an ancestor from there, and what the word 'Harris' might actually mean (I'm hoping it's not 'hedgehog' as my dad claims, based on what's supposedly on the family crest).

Also, in light of ancestor-talk, two women at the barbecue the other day realized that one of their ancestors probably killed the other girl's ancestor. That is, one gal was descended from Billy the Kid, and the other was descended from a man who had the same name as someone Billy had killed...and the last record of him was in the particular city said killing occurred. Whoa. The women got along just fine, however.

In light of barbecue talk, there was some awesome stuff food-wise. For one, the host made hummus and tabbouleh, which already being awesome in and of themselves, were further done up in gorgeous colored ceramic bowls with color-coordinated garnishes of tomatoes and cucumbers (interesting how she's also quite a talented painter). Along with that were the requisite veggies, chips, and salsa, and some obscure beers and cheap wine that was actually pretty good. For dinner there were chicken/artichoke sausages with fancy mustard, skirt steak rolled with blue cheese, even a nice big steak for Cassie the beautiful husky-mix with the multi-colored eyes, and grilled portobello mushrooms and veggies. And dessert! The host made her own birthday cake, decorated with crushed M&Ms, with a layer in the middle of frosting and the same crushed candy. Original, and tasty! (sorry if that was boring, I'm running on the assumption there are other people besides me out there who love reading about food)

I couldn't help but snort when I read this - and not just because it's by Ben Franklin

Firewall, with Harrison Ford and Paul Bettany. As much as this is really not the kind of movie I'd usually see, I tried to appreciate it as best I could. I thought Ford and Bettany did nice jobs in their respective roles, and enjoyed that aspect of the movie. The plot, on the other hand...not so much, and the general style didn't really do much for me either. It wasn't bad, just not very interesting.
That said, we were pretty much laughing all through the ending of the movie. It just got...over the top. And I know I'm a bit hyper-critical of fight-scenes, but - though I enjoyed this one to some degree - yeesh, a little bit overboard for what the movie's about, there. And, though I doubt anyone'll notice this, there was a random aiki wrist-lock, that isn't even pulled off (a 9 of the 15 for those few who'll recognize it)

And kart racing! Was interesting. I enjoyed it, despite my initial nervousness. I didn't do very well, but I was also doing a lot of driving technique ass-backward (sometimes almost literally when spinning out) in retrospect. These are definitely not little mini-golf-place karts, and will actually drift and spin out and other assorted fun effects of a lack of traction. I think I came out of the experience having a quite different understanding of driving in general, and I'm sure I would even more with each successive experience. There's driving on the road, and then there's race-driving (even in little karts), and they are very, very different things. The most fun part for me this go-round was the moment after the first caution-flagged lap, where they wave the green flags, and you just slam the gas pedal down and gun it.

Random and disparate things. I noticed in a manufacturing magazine lying around here that there's apparently a shortage of engineers and other trained personnel in the US; I just thought it was interesting to note that where at the beginning of the industrial revolution, workers were kept uneducated intentionally and as a matter of course, but now in contrast there's a desperate need and call for more education. I'd be curious to see how much of that is societal change and how much is based upon more complex tasks and manufactured goods needing to be produced.

Went to a barbecue this weekend at an apartment complex that dates back to the 1950's; it's interesting, because right after going up the incredibly steep drive to get to where it's hidden in a shallow on top of a hill, it's like you're not in Tucson anymore at all. Well, in one sense there's still a desert feel in the architecture and dirt/log parking lots, but everything - including the overgrown hedges and other vegetation - obviously dates back several decades. For the first time, I found something 'retro' actually appealing, I think because it wasn't something in imitation or simply appealing to older styles, but actually, really was from that era, down to the funny little old-school hot tub. Unfortunately, the only way I have of accurately describing it is to compare it to similar in the movie Mulholland Drive, but it seems the only people who've seen that movie were at the barbecue itself; ah well.

Dieu est grand, je suis toute petite, with Audrey Tautou and Edouard Baer. I want to say I enjoyed this movie, but I almost feel like I need to watch it again so I could catch everything in it. I agree with a review I read on IMDB, that if you haven't had spiritual-search kind of thoughts, it'll be very hard to identify with the story, but luckily I'm on the have-had-thoughts side of the spectrum, so I ended up being charmed by the quirky style of the whole thing in the end, I think. I think this is one of those films like Easy or Secretary that is a bit out of the way for most people to like, but you'll really like it if you do. Interestingly, I think all three of those movies have similar entwined themes of finding self and romance, but Secretary ironically probably has the most palatable ending for most people.

War of the Twins, by Margaret Weiss and Tracy Hickman. Firstly, thanks again to Bryce in receiving! Awesome. I'm going to have to say again, though, this trilogy's got nothing on the original Dragonlance trilogy. This second novel is another example of what wants to be epic, compressed; it was better than the first, at least, though I remain as hesitant about enjoying time travel as I do for any Star Trek episode with the same. Nonetheless, I'll give them that this was a tasteful effort in this regard. And there was way less of the bloody kender. The nicest thing about returning to these Dragonlance novels is that it's nice to be able to parse through characters and storylines with someone; I mean, everybody watches movies, and can discuss them, but not everyone reads so much.

copied out of a novel:
"I've led a very sheltered life."
"I guess."
"So have you. You just don't realize it."
"In what way?"
"Fear," Dorit tells him. "Prejudice. Those can be just as confining as any physical barrier."

Krsch...hm, I'm probably not spelling that right, anyway plum brandy of some kind that might be spelled like that is strong like whoa. But tasty.

In other news, one of the suppliers I buy from for work was bought out by a much larger company, because they were getting too successful, basically. This is all well and good, but for that the larger company in question is a competitor of the place I work for - so it's a pretty solid chance they won't sell to us anymore. But as the catalogs have already been published, with those suddenly unavailable parts taking up a notable chunk, I have to scramble to buy at least a year's supply. When I finally finished my research and figured out how much it would cost to do that, it came out to...well, basically enough to flat out buy a solid house hands-down. I know that maybe it's a drop in the bucket to the company owners, but damn...well, at least I can say I've been responsible for buying stuff in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, I suppose. And stare at it wistfully as I do it.

I already like olives, but I think this is pretty cool, however ephemeral an effort it may seem

I've got one comment on today. It's not a complaint on effort required, mind, as for all the effort I've put in so far and have yet to, I'm having a great time and pleasure doing it. It's more that the effort isn't equal; where's feminism now, huh? I mean, there is the steak+bj day idea, sometime in March, but really how many gals are going to go out of their way to put effort into that? I'd rather just see some effort back on Valentine's Day itself, even if it required guys surrendering their masculinity a little. Hell, I'll take some flowers and chocolates, I generally enjoy both of those things, yet never get them as gifts. Equality, people!

Ohh, this just makes me laugh - because if anything is truly sublime, it is the feminine bottom, naturally.

-copied out of a novel in honor of the holiday:
How loud your heart is calling, love,
How close the darkness at your breast,
How hectic are the rivers, love,
Drawn through your dying wrist.

And love, what heat your frail skin hides,
As pure as salt, as sweet as death,
And in the dark the red moon rides
The foxfire of your breath."

I was thinking that it's interesting how people react when they see a photo of someone doing an advanced arm balance or pretzel-like yoga pose; that is, there often seems to be a mixture of admiration and yet shying away with thoughts like, the model has to be born that flexible, or it's an accomplishment that the speaker could never hope to match, or that it must be painful to do that. So then that got me thinking, what does that model in that challenging pose represent in terms of yoga, and whatever else?

For one, though it certainly is an accomplishment in a general sense, it's not important at all in yoga to be able to do a more advanced pose, but rather more (trying not to ramble here) relaxing into what you are capable of in the moment, rather than pushing for more. While sometimes the model is just plain a contortionist, I think another misperception is that it's purely flexibility in question; it's just as much great muscular and mental strength to be able to manipulate one's body as such. And while it may certainly appear painful, I think rather that a truly deepened pose is really more representative of freedom and a deeper relaxation of the body-mind, as one doesn't force their way into something like that. I'm sure there was some kind of pain that went into getting to that point, but to flip that around, the heat-like pain usually associated with stretching can be seen (to slip into metaphor) as a cleansing or releasing kind of fire - after all, pain isn't necessarily bad as our reflexive reaction usually labels it.

Random quote of the day, by William James - "We have grown literally afraid to be poor. We despise anyone who elects to be poor in order to simplify and save his inner life. If he does not join the general scramble and pant with the money-making street, we deem him spiritless and lacking in ambition."
---Maybe it doesn't have to have the label 'poor,' per se, but I can think of several people who I really admire because of their 'inner life' (and consequent relative lack of material wealth), and a lot of people who I've lost respect for because they've come to fit the other side of that quote. That's not to say I can't think of a few people who I admire for their 'inner life' who also have high ambitions in the other regard, but I guess it's a matter of proportion on each side.

So, up late last night for no particular reason (actually, nightmares from a nap earlier in the day), caught an episode of The Boondocks. And I have to say, whoever is in charge of animation for that show has a keen appreciation of martial arts. In one fight scene alone, I saw my favorite move lifted straight out of the lovely choreography of Troy, several references to specific moves in Bruce Lee's Enter the Dragon (and in the script, there, as well), axe and tornado kicks (one of those things where if you see them in a fight scene you know the choreographer enjoys martial arts on a deeper level), and I think even a slight animation-kudo to a Teen Titans bit. And before that, it was Kill Bill-references combined with more samurai movie references, and even some great Cowboy Bebop-style stuff thrown in there; I just want to shake the hand of whoever put that much effort in. Or, if female, give them a big thank you kiss. Hell, maybe if they're male, too, it was pretty rocking.

Curious George, with Will Ferrell and Drew Barrymore. While I would probably end up calling this 'movie-lite' in the end, I mean that in an entirely complimentary way. I guess I'd say it was like a children's book in film-form, with a pleasant soundtrack and a lovely animation style, and I was certainly smiling nigh the entire time. I thought the parallels to King Kong in terms of the plot were interesting (I begin to wonder whether there's a subgenre for that sort of story...), and the little bits of metafiction and trappings of modern culture as well. That is, Disney movies from back in the day and even movies like The Incredibles, for example, seem to be in a kind of time-less setting pretty consistently, and this one in contrast relied upon Starbucks coffee cups and cell phone cameras; I wonder what that begins to say about how children's lit/theatre is changing and what that says about kids nowadays.

Random quote of the day (Quentin Crisp) - "It is explained that all relationships require a little give and take. This is untrue. Any partnership demands that we give and give and give and at the last, as we flop into our graves exhausted, we are told that we didn't give enough." - I think a few other people besides me might end up reading that and laughing a little darkly, as well

For a good long while lately, I was under a mistaken impression. That is, the last relationship I was in left me with a feeling that I was too shy or cautious to get out and try new things or travel. I won't say that the negative shift was entirely the other person's fault, it always takes two to tango, but I will acknowledge that they certainly hammered it home with comments and actions.

But then something clicked a little while ago. I remembered that nigh every time I go into a store or restaurant, I make a point of trying something new - whether it's a strange fruit, a green drink, or a foreign movie with a cute title that I know nothing about. Most every time I go to a restaurant or coffee shop I try a new dish or drink. I love going to random workshops, seminars, and concerts, just to learn new things and meet new people. And I've been having conversations every other day about trips everywhere from the next city over to Europe (Brittany, N. Italy, and London, my feet will trod upon thee...). It's not like I ever really stopped doing most of those things; just, my perception of them had become skewed. So it's kind of a relief, and kind of a...center'ing feeling to remember that; no, I was never so hesitant and reclusive as I had come to think.

Random tricks of accent and slang I've noted lately while working with Mexican/Vietnamese (this would be a lot better with the IPA, but I'll try to do it phonetically):
wozwon - accented 'warehouse one,' really sped up, but I was confused for a while when the intercom was calling me to "wozwon!"
Hojay (not really a 'j,' more the sound of the second syllable of 'garage') - accented Jose, who's ironically only called Jose on paper nowadays
wawl - I could actually use more information on this one, it appears to be the more en vogue replacement of 'ese,' and is used kind of like 'omae' used to be in Shadowrun, if anyone gets that reference
cholo - kind of insulting, kind of like 'vato,' but seemingly more centered around being devoted to cars or trucks mod'ed in poor taste

I think they should have made it look like a fire flower, personally; and have it play the sound effect for when Mario gets fireballs whenever it goes off. Tangentially, if anyone reads this who's actually seen ball lightning, I'm sure we'd all love to hear about it...

Random quotes of the day by Samuel Butler:
"Eating is touch carried to the bitter end."
---
"Let us be grateful to the mirror for revealing to us our appearance only."

One, I just wanted to note the first rain we've had in several months in Tucson. It was kind of wan and sad winter rain, but it seemed to make everyone happy. It seemed interesting to me that everywhere from just walking around to the radio to the evening news, everyone was just going on about the rain and the scent of it; I guess that shows what it means round these parts.

Two, had a great conversation with a random guy from the warehouse about Alexander the Great. Does anyone know whether he was actually poisoned, or was it fever or what? Tangentially, if anyone ever made other twenty-some year old males feel unaccomplished, it's that dude.

Three, had a great conversation about the local metal scene with a lady welder. Disturbed is coming to town, apparently, and it really is true that no one can understand a single thing Ozzy says if you meet him in person.

Since I'm a martial arts nerd, I thought I'd just echo here some things one of our head instructors was using as examples in teaching. If you want to see fighting that resembles Ko Sho's Okinawan karate in the movies, check out most Wesley Snipes movies, and to a very secondary extent Van Damme - that is, in the sense that they set->go! and in the lack of flow in their movements; it's pummeling that relies on a hard hit having a noticeable or stun-effect. Hence, the general admiration of the Blade movies in the dojo. For the other, secondary component of that same Okinawan karate, the unique taizu exercises for speed that are based on Chinese teaching, Jet Li movies set in modern times are a good example, with his emphasis on sheer amount of hits over power and continuous flow.

Now, if someone could find me some jujitsu and Filipino arts examples besides the lovely, albeit nigh unique, ones in Stargate Atlantis, I'd be a happy happy camper....

I just want to note, first of all, that as much as I want to jabber about the most recent L Word, I am restraining myself. I put the urge down to the writers concentrating well on character development (but tangentially, and unrelated to what I would have rambled about, damn that was a surprising amount of sweaty naked bodies).

Anyhoo, I was thinking while driving along in the very pleasantly summer-like night, with the sunroof open to the city-lit clouds, about the local community radio station. Or, at least, one reason I really like it besides the wonderful tangos and sambas that mixed with the cool breeze last night. That is, that it helps to turn Tucson into something like the city-that-is-any-city in Charles de Lint's writing. Just for a couple examples, the late night dj's with the lovely smokey voices that play whatever they damn well please, and the access to (and their avid support of) the local music scene which is actually quite rich, Tucson being the kinda-artsy town that it is.

Without KXCI, there would just be the commercial stations with their endlessly repetitive, nationally decided playlists, and finding the next time Hans and the Attache would be playing at Plush would require checking every week for a half-torn, stapled up flyer (which would be do-able, but KXCI is like a helper-buddy that holds together what would otherwise be random and unconnected events).

Random Robert Frost quotes of the day!
"A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness."
-and-
"To be a poet is a condition, not a profession."

I've read articles about emotions suddenly springing up while doing yoga (hell, I think that was even in an episode of The L Word), running on the idea that releasing tension in the body is reflected in the mind/emotions. Haven't actually encountered it, though; that is, while doing yoga, at any rate. Where I have run into it is while working out. Not while doing forms or martial drills, interestingly - that seems to build a confidence of sorts, I think because of the attached thoughts of adrenaline and intent - but only with more inwardly directed exercise, like bridging or bodyweight movements.

So, while it's a bit annoying to feel a sudden subtle dizziness at feelings I'm confused about, or distracting to work through an ache in my chest that isn't muscular at all, I suppose it's probably healthy to release those tensions I wasn't consciously aware of. I mean, while it does almost make me have an aversion to working out sometimes, because I'm a little afraid of what might well up against my will, I just have to remember that just because it might be painful or disconcerting, that doesn't mean it has to have a bad connotation.

There're another couple questions I noted last night about it. One, is it just that working out keys into my emotions in a way that yoga doesn't (that is, maybe that's just how my body works, in needing more vigorous motion than relaxing)? And two, is it because I try to integrate yoga-based exercises and breathing in, or just a function of working out in general? In any case, it feels like an interesting example of the difference I'd read about between thought and emotion, where emotion has a physical aspect attached to it (that ache in my chest, for example).

Random Little Poem of the Day (because Basho rules, and I need to find my favorite haiku of his): "Without the bitterest cold that penetrates to the very bone, how can plum blossoms send forth their fragrance to the whole world?"

Hm...don't really have much to say today at all. I'm in a generally somewhat kind of confused state, I think. Which isn't bad at all. Just...shifty.

(Quite Cool) Random Quote of the Day: "Meditation is when you sit down and do nothing. Poetry is when you sit down and do something" - Norman Fischer

I just wanted to note that instead of watching the Super Bowl, my dad went to a symphony and I went to a dance performance. And you know what? We loved it. And everyone else who was watching football was bored and/or falling asleep. Irony.

A Feast for Crows, by George Martin. Martin continues to be one of my favorite authors; the novels in this series are high fantasy, but Martin continues to write it in a very down to earth manner, and furthermore I think he's a master of character development and character-driven plots. I'll note quickly that his writing may at the same time be a bit too violent and sometimes even too brutal - for example, the gal who gave me my copy wrote on the inside cover, 'Hope your favorite characters don't get killed off!' That's another thing to note, actually, if you've been keeping up with this series, Martin took the interesting route of actually splitting the myriad and complex plot threads into two, as he put in an afterward (paraphrasing): "the whole story of half the characters rather than half the story of all the characters."

As usual, he has continued to expand the setting in relatively original ways and go further into the various characters; where the first few novels were mixes of violence, sex, and intrigue, I'd say this one was weighted more intrigue-sex-violence. The most interesting part of the story for me is the Frank Herbert-like exploration of a contrast between religion as an uncontrollable force (Jihad-principle) and religion as a political tool. The one thing I'd say he could have toned down was the occasional tediousness of listing the characteristics of every last banner in a given situation, though I suppose that might be a necessary aspect of high fantasy.

Random Quote of the Day: "Descartes declared, 'I think, therefore I am.' But yogis say, 'I think, therefore I am confused about who I am.'" - a little tongue-in-cheek, but apt, I think

Mohammed Image Archive - for one, the name of this website itself is completely ironic; I think it's interesting that there's so many interesting pieces of art concerning something/one that's generally not even supposed to be depicted at all

Stuff Sucks - I haven't really read any webcomics in forever, but this one randomly caught my eye somehow; I think the coloring is interestingly unusual, and the humor is quirky. Also, it is "Made in Amsterdam."

      Man, sleeping on my belly is messing with me; well, that is, waking up with my face hanging off the edge of the bed was somewhat disorienting. Alas, such are the sacrifices we must make for some ink. Anyway, so as I was waking up, I flipped on the Saturday morning cartoons, and pleasantly found Ben 10 to be on. Not only does it have a catchy theme song, but it also moves out of the general cartoon cliches to use that great subgenre, the roadtrip, as its backbone. What I think is interesting about using the roadtrip genre in a cartoon is the episodic nature of it; rather than picking one overarching road-setting (Europe in Eurotrip, Route 66, the Oregon Trail being horribly obvious examples) and having that set part of the tone, the cartoon is free to shift settings at will. I know that doesn't sound like much, but it would be hard to fit satires of every summer trip archetype from 'by the lake' to visiting D.C. to camping in national parks to seeing the world's largest rubber band ball. Sure, it's a cartoon about a kid superhero, but I think the real value is in the subtler roadtrip-satire jokes.

Bubblesoap - haven't seen a clever project like this in a while

They're making a Tristram Shandy movie! I am left bereft of words.

      My plans for tonight having fallen through (ah, Urgent Care, I tangentially blame thee), I naturally did what I've done the last few times that's happened. I went out anyway. Tonight, it was to see the lovely Canadian band Po' Girl at Hotel Congress. The opener was a very pleasant surprise, another gal from Canada, whom I think I developed a crush on, fell a tiny bit in love with, and then was sad when she said she was going back across the continent, all in the space of her set. But hey, I've got some practice with similar situations and people also named Carolyn, so it's cool.
      Po' Girl herself...themselves...however that syntax should be was great, no bones about it. It was kind of blues-y, kind of country, kind of folk, but with that unique Canadian diphthong thrown in, which was interesting. The ladies have beautiful voices, and play everything from accordians to harmonicas to washtub bass to guitar and fiddle. That, and it was cute that they marvelled so at seeing a cactus for the first time, even amongst all their other charm. If or when they come to Tucson again, I'll definitely make it a point to go.

Since a lament was voiced recently that duels weren't in fashion anymore (though it was agreed that a good slogan for a martial arts school would be "Good old fashioned fisticuffs."), I figured why not glance through what we've got going on in that regard in our martial arts school.

Basically, there're two aspects that just recently...ah, came into vogue. One - just plain challenging people. This one's mostly for the little kids, to help them to build confidence in being assertive with their challenge, and to give them a little bit of structure for their roughhousing, as opposed to just randomly tackling someone. It is quite funny to see someone three feet tall call out someone who's about 6'7" for a throwdown, though.

The other side of it grew out of our 'Session' as a practical drill. That is, we have Session, which is a lot like sticky-hands in wing chun, but with less emphasis on trapping and more on unbalancing and joint locks; then there's the more karate side of the same, which is basically striking and parrying at trapping range, but without the trapping. But with the former, the Session-players can get lost in trapping and sticking, and forget to strike or sometimes even do anything of consequence, and with the latter can get lost in seeing who can get the most brutal blows in the alotted time without putting much thought or technique into it.

So: an actual use for karate-style assigning of points - first to three. Instead of flowing for the length of a minute round, say, you pause a moment and start over when someone gets a clean hit or unbalancing. This is practically useful in keeping the disadvantages from above from generating, and generally leads to two variations: either someone gets smacked upside the head without barely reacting at all, which leads to laughter and sheepish looks, or short series of parries which end up actually quite graceful sometimes and end with a clean hit to the neck or ribs, which leads to laughter and admiring nodding. Good times.

Random Quote of the Day: "Once I planned to write a book of poems entirely about the things in my pocket. But I found it would be too long; and the age of the great epics is past." - I think we should bring back epic poetry, or at least some long ballads; Autobiography of Red, for example, is a wonderfully eerie example of a 'novel in verse,' as it's billed

Nahh...couldn't be real...but it would cool if it was...