However this makes me smile.

A man supposedly quite his job as a programmer to dance around the world.

I don’t know weather it’s sad, or it’s inspiring, however the man isn’t really all that great of a dancer either.

Here’s the link to the video.

It almost makes me want to start traveling for pleasure.


ugh now I feel all dirty for posting that...off to take a shower.


p.s.

So I visited this site in IE and ...oh how I hate internet explorer. HTML is stricter in mozilla/netscape based browsers so...I sort of know what to do.(not really)
However IE has so many bugs, that you need to learn the bugs in order to compensate in the programming ...etc etc

I spent about 4-ish hours trying to make it cross compatible, but to no avail. And to think I was semi proud of the new one.


Therefore, this is a striped down version of it…

In the mean time I'll work on that and you (90% of you )
get firefox! You'll thank me once you discover tabbed browsing.

¶ 8/28/2005 03:21:00 AM //

Someone from Marketplace saw a photo of my new keyboard. (I got a new keyboard)

Said photo/article is located here.

Not only do I listen to Marketplace, but I adore NPR/Public radio. Be they ever so boring at times, there is nothing like insightful, well rounded , informative programming no matter what the medium.

Now…I realize it’s a bit odd that I be so excited over a radio show using my photo. (Not exactly the right media.) However this being a show that I constantly find myself listening to while in the kitchen…I am a bit taken aback at the flattery and…even a bit shocked.

This is not to mention I am all for more women in the laboratories no matter what the method/science/ (though I may be a bit biased, based on past events).

Below is a screenshot plus the entire series it was a part of.





















…and finally the original





p.s. I don't photoshop.

¶ 8/25/2005 07:37:00 PM //

However Antarctica has…

Consider this a state of the blog address/report. (the 1st on a rare-ish occasion, not likely to continue annually)

I’ve been here for about 2-ish years…umm no wait…3 years. There were times when I wanted to stopped…and did. I once told myself I quit (and then came back two weeks later).

When I started …I didn’t know what I was doing.

I still don’t know what I’m doing.


The old site…I liked very much. It was simple, I thought well laid out, and it showed up very well on my 2048x 1536 screen. However…after a bit of research on what the average user uses, what sort of machine visitors are running/web browser compatibility/style sheets/etc etc etc etc …I have opted for a slightly more aesthetically pleasing site. If I see a increase in high resolution screens coinciding with a proliferation of high end video cards a high resolution revamp may be in order. However as it stands…most people run 1024x 768@ 24bits (how?)

It’s more like I couldn’t sleep lat night and thus spent 4-6 ish hours staring at the ceiling and thinking of a project and subsequently another 36+hours on fine tuning the site. A realize a few things are not up to par, and there is a hiccup here (and maybe there?) Only one I know of and will only be evident during short posts…not exactly a threat here.


Content…

Has seen a steady decline, from up to 30-50 pages in any given day with posts everyday of the week, to a more defined 2-3 pages a week...perhaps once to twice a week.

All content used to go up unedited, no spell check,
No second thoughts, now…I find myself feeling much older and much less passionate about ...passion, significantly more jaded and thus that much closer to the goal of a pre-Elizabeth era.

I wrote on here as I wrote to her…and as I told her once upon a time...I never edited my raw thoughts feelings or emotions towards her. They were straight from the heart and the mind was kept out of it. That may have been a mistake…, however it will not be permitted an opportunity to be repeat in my private life.

I still write as much…however, most of it is lost to the moment in which I wrote it. I edit less now than I did maybe 6 months ago, however significantly more than in the beginning. I try to aim (with my eyes closed) for some coherency. I can hardly stand to read some of my older posts (and thus never do).

I also find so many of my writings to be reiteration of topics already covered a hundred fold. I should just rename this to “redundancy at large”.

Thus monthly archives, I also removed miscellanies silly links which only pointed back to Antarctica, as everything is in the archives for those willing to seek them out.

The bomb logo will hopefully go in 2008 (it clashes doesn’t it?)

Once again, Antarctica is a greedy endeavor, meant for myself and not anyone else. Opinions are welcome however this is ultimately a dictatorship and not a democracy (of one).

If I get enough (any?) emails asking for the old site back…maybe. However I’m going to stick with this for a month or so regardless.

Hmmmm…

I’m at a lost for words…my mind just went blank.
So….that’s that.

Voila.

¶ 8/25/2005 12:01:00 PM //

Committing so many unspeakable acts over the course of a relatively short lifetime and yet finding myself ready to collapse at the mundane. Smelling a scent simply reminisce of her perfume, remembering in jarring vitality her smile… and I am a mess where I stand.

The emotional rollercoaster doesn’t seem to stop, I used to have such control,…and since her I go from battle hardened agent to silly putty, to being on my hypothetical knees in zero flat.

Now it’s just so much worse…

I had to fight back the tears while watching "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" when he won the golden ticket. I can’t tell if the movie was simply well made or I am just that much of a mess. The same at the end of Six Feet Under (my, that was well done though...wasn’t it? )

I avoid romance titles all together. I used to enjoy them when I was in love, and now… they only further the damage. The whimsy at which they portray love...I can not believe.

I see people who do so little for love and I ask how can they say it’s love when they are willing to give so little for the opportunity, that is rarely found and never guaranteed under and any, and all circumstances.

For love one can search the planet and still come up empty. Others find themselves content in finding someone "compatible". The bar that most women set for themselves is frightening.

The persona I hear people looking for is "dark , blue eyes, over 6 ft. , rich, etc etc etc” It’s horrible. It’s the person they "want to be seen with” not the person they love.

I can’t grasp why some people don’t realize that it is true…all you need is love. It’s not simply the lyrics to a silly song…love will warm the heart and fuel the soul.
Love has launched wars and made men, made the pathetic happy, and a hard days work wash away at a smile. It will make sacrifice worth wild and change just about anyone.

Although I do have friends who are in love, and for them I couldn’t be happier…they are genuinely good people and deserve everything they coming to them.

I think of one person (couple) in particular when I think this...however I feel it can be applied universally.

I always thought my relationship with Elizabeth was truly amazing because there was absolute lack of bullshit. It was so simple and unobstructed at the heart of matter. It was passion , not lust, it was just overflowing. The emotions were so raw…they were such a sharp contrast from where Elizabeth stood. The refined, cosmopolitan, contemporary, scientist. Full of rhythm and rhyme, reasoning and understanding.
Then there was us… there were no games, no malice lies, no head games , no alter motives than to be with one another. It was simple, it was romantic, it was love.

Why she would walk away so abruptly I will never know.

The relationship was never complicated by us…but our lives. Forces set forth in motion by elements other than ourselves, larger than our selves.

I’ll admit that yes, I did lie,...and I told her ,unprovoked that had I lied to her. However I added qualifiers, only to protect her. I told her I lied about matters beyond myself, however never about myself or my feelings.
I never told her about Turkey, Bosnia, Sweden, etc…I never told her about the car accidents, the firefights, the investigations, though she had some idea about some of them, she still never asked. I set her up for me leaving for a while and she was such a trooper.

She was so sweet,…she ignored the new scars, and bruises, she ignored the punctures, the left over marks from bullets, shrapnel, acid, she ignored the road rash and the reoccurring limp… and when I cut myself on a bit of glass…she greeted me in the morning with a kiss and a bandage. (I had made a crude bandage out of wires and fabric)

She stuck with me through the first round of federal indictments… the state case that followed a few years later was so hard because I didn’t have her.

Those, I had to tell her because of the expectation of myself going away for a few years, no details, just of the case. However I learned justice is a commodity just like gold ,oil and the lot. Publicly traded within courthouses across America everyday. Those who can afford to do so are able to manipulate and buy it at will. Freedom can be purchased in a corrupt system for a amazingly low price.(considering it is freedom)

There were plans in place, ways she would find out had anything happened to me (legal or otherwise), numbered accounts and a series of international money orders /various currencies deposited in to various safety deposit boxes at various banks local to her at the time. These systems depended on her signing for documents though...All my mail/mail on my behalf gets turned away at the gates.

I met her…and within 2 weeks I thought this may be it.
In Mexico I was sure of it…it’s when I set forth the plan to take care of her should anything happen to me.
(I inadvertently discovered a few life insurance policies opened on my behalf by various factions of the family around the same time…I thus thought my number may have been up….but that’s a different rambling, go no where story)

I realize that this may have all been a dream…I then ask myself when I will get better. When will I be able to move on? When will I be able to get better?

I then look down at my bowl and see why another reason why I have so long to go…Why I am so far from being where I was before I met her, and so far from being able to forget/fall out of love.



For gods sake! I still can’t eat a fucking blue M&M!

One of our faux arguments (one of a series of two) was she said they tasted better (The scientist…who favored blue M&M’s…)

I even contacted mars corp. and they wrote back, (stating that they all taste the same)…and yet she won the faux argument by the grace of her smile.

I still save them for her…



This is just pathetic

¶ 8/22/2005 03:55:00 AM //

The thought of losing children seems so malignant in this age of people dieing left and right.

However such things deserve weight, more than that of gravity. The notions should be weighted rather than carried on so lightly.

To think of the heartache, and joys , trials and tribulation of having a child, and watching them grow up …and then to have all that robbed for a lie.

To have your children die for a lie…

Welcome to the republican party. Where all soldiers are disposable and they will undercut/under fund/ and all out lie to get what they want regardless of the lives it costs, and the lives it devastates as a direct percussion.

To die for a goal, for an idea, for a honorable cause, is a great thing, but try telling that to the parents of the fallen.

Now try to tell them it was for lie. A cause with no honor, a scenario created by those who commanded them for nothing more than the neo-con agenda.

The war (Iraqi theater, the admin insist it's the same war, but it's not) infuriates me to no end, as does the administration in all it’s dealings, domestic and abroad. Not only do they kill the children of today, they kill the children of tomorrow with their pro-business environmental policies.

Think what it is to have and raise a child…slip off your shoes and put on a set of weighted gortex boots.

Think of what it is to die…

Of what it is to raise a child…


Now throw it all away for a lie without reason.

¶ 8/22/2005 01:30:00 AM //

Step#1… fill pot with water


Step #2 …pictures!














Step #3…Blue sunglasses!



Step #4… Ignore pasta and stare out window




Step# 5 …. Forget trying to make it myself, call the Italian restaurant up the street and just order the pasta.




The Razr is now...Galvanized
and the Pasta Pentola may never be used again.

¶ 8/15/2005 02:30:00 PM //

My Mother one day gave up the hunt in arranging a proper marriage for my brother and told him he could marry whomever he wants.

My brother thought for a bit and figured out loud…
“Well there are 300 billion women in the world..
so that shouldn’t be too hard.”

Then my Mother said
“Well she has to be XXXXX(Nationality)”

My brother then replied
“Well…ok that narrows it down to XXXX million girls…so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem”

“But she has to be from XXXXXX(region)”

“Hmmmm well that narrows it down to X million
….ok”

“but she has to be from XXXX(religion)”

“Well…that’s X hundred thousand… ok ok, I’ll see what I can do “

“She also has to be of XXXX decent (social status/rank)”

“Well…I don’t know,…that’s going to be really hard Mother, that narrows it down to a 50-100 tops in the entire world…”

“Don’t worry...there are plenty of nice girls at church, I’ll find someone”

Then my brother throws up his arms and walks out of the room.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

How I once fooled myself I would get Elizabeth passed this process is unbeknownst to me.

I think the plan at the time would have been to run away from it all and see how long I could have hid out with Elizabeth.

Such ideas now are alas but a fantasy based upon fiction which only serves to further damage my mental psychy.

I wish I could force myself to stop thinking /feeling such thoughts/emotions, however try as I might, I never seem to win. It would all be just so much easier if I could just force myself to forget.

¶ 8/12/2005 12:39:00 PM //

Once upon a time I used to say to Elizabeth…

"If I was gay…" Peter Jennings and Jon Stewart.

This was many years ago (before Jon became so wildly popular)

I always thought Jons funniest moments were with Peter. I still recall when Jon went to the republican national convention on 2000 and met Peter for the 1st time on camera. They played it up as the entire apprentice meeting superstar. The starry eyed new kid on the block , and the devinare veteran of the game. However they have had so many priceless encounters over the years.



I recall trying to explain this to Elizabeth and was only met with loving bewilderment. I was so excited to look him up at the family house in the hard copy encyclopedias and be able to find his name.

I used to exclaim to people that he was such a great person that he was referenced in enclopedias and a piece of Americana.

I thoroughly enjoyed Peters newscasts and have been dismayed in the steep decline of quality during the months he has been gone. I find the show becoming more so an extension of "Good Morning America" and less "World News".

I miss the old news cast of just four months ago. I will miss Peter, his incites, his perseverance to upstanding quality and integrity. He always reminded me of my grandfather. I always thought it would be nice if I grew up to be such a man. I thought his humor was spot on. Temperamented , witty and dry.

I really looked up to him as a true newscaster in a league with Jim Lehrer, and thought him to be a solid and reliable source of news. Not filth or this propaganda that permeates the 24/7 news cycles carried by the likes of Fox, CNN or even MSNBC .

Peter you will be missed, tears may inevitably be shed for the passing of such a great icon.


(AP Photo / Gino Domenico)

¶ 8/08/2005 09:08:00 PM //

I had 2 dreams to speak of…

One while I was away on business…

Well...business then a quick stop over to CT to visit Grandmother. She had an operation, and as the eldest…well eldest male come to think of it. None the less one of the eldest of the 1st wave , it was a obligation to visit, that and I like my grandmother (mother side), she defends my honor while I’m away.

Moving on…

1st Dream.

I had a series of dreams and they were all really pretty twisted. I am more at home in blood and gore,…violence and death. This was more disturbing /sick. I think it’s a new vision of hell. (without Elizabeth) …I was on the outside looking in , and then I saw someone I thought I knew…I thought I saw Fernando (Elizabeths father) …and I jumped the fence
and ran in to hell head 1st trying to save the father…of a person who no longer loves me. A man who hates me.

I won’t go in to details but it was hot, fire, I had hooks attached to chains hooked in to me. They dug in to my flesh and ripped out the other side , they ripped off chunks of flesh …and yet I went on.

I found him…and the things he was doing to himself were unspeakable. (I won’t reiterate , and caution on the side of respect) I found the person who was holding his reins, who was forcing him and thus began the fight which just raged for what seemed hours on end. I was sore, my lungs burned as I gasped for breath and all my opponent could do was laugh. I hit him…how ever constantly found myself holding back.

I assume I passed out…

I awoke (in the dream) and found myself with Elizabeth… she wanted to thank me. However…she seemed forced. She wanted to let me sleep with her (in a fashion that was not so innocent) I couldn’t sleep with anyone who did not love me back. I could not sleep with this person whom I so desperately loved for she did not love me.

I told her all debit were paid… I got off the bed, and made my way out.

I didn’t know weather to smile because I saw her and thus it was all worthwhile…or cry because she hid her eyes…or that it was true and I now had concrete confirmation that she didn’t love me.


2nd Dream "Elizabeth is a super hero"

This was a bit more surrealistic…

It was in the future however…it was all very abstract. I forget much of it right now…This I dreamt my 1st night back in NYC.

I was on the rooftop of what seemed to be Brooklyn.
However it was quainter, pristine, clean, greenery, etc.

I had invented a simulator type machine that ran off vegetables. Elizabeth came by to look at it…it felt as though we were divorced yet still friends. She seemed shorter though.

She told me good job and I was showing her how it worked.

Later I had company…Elizabeth’s grandfather. (whom I had never met) He seemed like an old Italian man. He asked me to beg Elizabeth to stop her superhero nonsense. She saved people left and right however risked her own life. I told him I would try to contact her and see what I could do.

Just then a cruise missile type apparatus flew at me from just around the next building. I grabbed up and caught it. It was almost like a inflatable balloon. Inside a message from Elizabeth. I tried to conceal it when I knew what it was and then tried to reassure the old man.

I made my way to another edge of the building and rounding the fire escape I see my Father come at me from a building across the ally. The distance was a close one...maybe only 2 feet? Behind him was Elizabeth and what looked to be a friend or maybe even her sister. I tried to signal to her to turn around and run…and she got me and took off. My father and come to talk to me of her antics. That she shouldn’t go about doing the things she does. I told him I would see what I could do.

Later I was able to talk to Elizabeth and it was all very weird. I had deep feelings however we never touched, we never looked directly at each other, and yet we seemed like friends. I tried to seek compromise…
That was about it.

The truth of the mater is Elizabeth was always a superhero in my book. She has the same mystic, she does, or will save lives, she does risk her own in the labs.

She has superhero like perseverance, intelligence, dedication. She has piercing eyes, and the most disabilitating smile I have ever seen.

She was my hero, I always looked up to her.

¶ 8/05/2005 07:45:00 AM //