The Question Box

Sunday, October 31, 2004

Happy Halloween

..Or happy Harvest Day Festival, if you’re one of those overly dogmatic fundamentalists.

I actually forgot today was Halloween since all the parties were Friday and Saturday. My roommate and I also forgot to have candy for the kids that kept knocking at the door of our apartment. We ended up just putting out an empty basket with a sign that said, “Take one piece.” That went over pretty well.

Also, our second plant died. We tried everything to make it look better – watering it more, watering it less, more sunlight, less sunlight, spray painting it… It’s a good thing we didn’t get a dog. I don’t think you’re allowed to just throw those things in the trash when they die.




Friday, October 29, 2004

Starless Night



The brilliant lights emanating from the stadium penetrated a foggy night that frescoed the ever starless Atlanta skies, making the streets for over a dozen city blocks appear as day. Written with an eerie glow across the familiar skyline, the message was clear: this is our house. Victory seemed inevitable.

THE SAFETY’S JOB IS TO KEEP THE RECEIVER IN FRONT OF HIM! HOW HARD CAN THAT BE?


Virginia Tech 34, Georgia Tech 20

There are no stars on a losing team.


p.s. I still love Tech football.
p.p.s. I also love photoshop.
p.p.p.s. I hate differential equations, and missing CSI.

p.p.p.p.s. I am indifferent to Yankees/Red Sox, and the death of Bambino’s curse.

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Question #5

"What came first, the chicken or the egg?"

- Mike



This question has been asked for years by people that have nothing better to do, just like you. It’s not an easy question to answer. Creationists tend to say that it was the chicken, while evolutionists tend to agree that it was indeed (technically) the chicken. So you can begin to see the problem here.

The process is difficult describe, so I created this PG-13 rated diagram to help you understand.





Step 1: “What comes first,” is not the chicken or the egg, per se. The first event is actually the administration of a special blend of antibiotics, hormones, and date rape drugs to promote growth and manage breeding.

Step 2: A mutant chicken grows inside of an egg and eventually hatches.

Step 3: More miscellaneous drugs administered, usually consisting of additional hormones and whatever else the farmers can get thier hands on.

Step 4: After a careful selection process (and sending the chickens with more than two legs to KFC), the “normal” giant chickens are shipped out to your grocery store.

Step 5: Nobody really knows what happens in step 5, so just try not to think about it.


Monday, October 25, 2004

The Virtue of… Apathy?


Figure taken from America (The Book)

Speaking of Tucker Carlson, he said something on Unfiltered last week that didn’t sit right with me. I don’t know, maybe I just lack understanding of media ethics (if there is such a thing). But it seems like such a faux pas for the host of multiple television shows focusing on political and social issues to say, “Americans shouldn't feel an obligation to vote in this year's presidential election.”

The way I see it, the only *valid* reason not to vote is if someone has no opinion on the issues that the candidates have covered. If this is the case, they don’t get out very much. Even other countries care about this election because the President of the United States is widely regarded as the most powerful man in the world. And as the saying goes, there is always a better candidate.

If someone doesn’t care about what the Republicans and Democrats have to say, there are always the third parties. These parties exist for citizens to express their opinion. When the Socialist Party received a million votes in 1912 (the first third party ever to do this I believe) politicians heard the voice of labor unions loud and clear.

The point is, Tucker, there is no honor in the decision of indecision.

Idiot.

Sunday, October 24, 2004

I Heart Jon Stewart

Today I’m going to pick up a copy of Jon Stewart’s America (The Book): A Citizens Guide to Democracy Inaction. Despite some differences in our political ideals, I think he made a few really good points last week on Crossfire [watch it]. And come to think of it, I’m pretty tired of partisan hackery, too. The further this election rolls along, the more reprehensible and incompetent the candidates look. The sad thing is that this isn’t the result of party affiliated propaganda, but that of slanted news shows.

“Stop.. Hurting.. America.”

On a side note, I don’t think CNN should allow Tucker to dress himself.





Friday, October 22, 2004

The Bottom



Here's something I worked on today.. I just thought it would look interesting. It gave me some trouble though, since my camera doesn't like to focus on glass.

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

The Mystery Bulge



Since all the other bloggers are talking about it…

Here is some internet feedback on the media feedback concerning internet initiated rumors about Bush’s mystery bulge.

In response to video footage of the first debate, James Atkinson (Technical Surveillance Counter Measures) said, “I have come to the professional opinion that either George Bush was wearing a wireless prompter/queuing system […] or is growing some kind of mutant dorsal fin.”

I, however, have to question Atkinson’s professional opinion since most engineers don’t know much about biology. Seriously, what are the chances of him growing a dorsal fin?

Maybe he was wearing a wireless piece. But who cares if the president is incapable of thinking for himself anyway? No one else in this country can either.


Monday, October 18, 2004

Question #4

A EF HI KLMN T VWXY
-----------------------
BCD G J OPQRS U

"Does "Z" go on the top or bottom of the line, why?"

- Becky


The answer is no, it does not.

When the alphabet consited of only capital characters Z was not included. Early language had used S sound alone for both the unvoiced and the voiced sibilant. Later, the Latin sound was not written with a Z, but with a G or an I. The question is sort of confusing though, since several other characters like J and W weren't around back then either. Also, the Y had a funny little line in the middle of it that made it look like a fork.

Saturday, October 16, 2004

Prophesy is Dead

According to Madam Prophetess of 860 AM, “Atlanta’s Choice” for radio ministry, the Lord has said we approach a new dawn of world order. “And the Lord told me the system of White supremacy is dead, and will never again raise its face on this earth,” proclaimed The Prophetess. “A new world order of Black supremacy is near,” she continued, “and blacks will raise up to the positions of leadership and hierarchy in which they belong.”

As she delved further into this exposé of the “Modern Eden” she made clear her views that power did not belong to Whites or even to Native Americans, who lack the “nappy hair that characterizes Blacks.” Further, she said the Lord has condemned Whites and The Prophetess referred to them as “children of judgment” that hinder the advancement of society which can only occur via the “children of reconstruction.”

Hopefully you don’t buy into this; The Prophetess even nullified her own claim. She declared that the Lord has also told her the second coming will occur in 2021, while the Bible clearly notes that no one will know when this will take place, but that it will come as “a thief in the night.” (Later, I may post a comment regarding more of what I think about her claims.)

While it may subsist at a communal level or among individuals, as far as I am concerned Prophesy at a global scale is dead. Do a few bad apples, like Benny Hinn and Madam Prophetess, who clutter the airways with flimflam and absurdity, justify this statement? Certainly not, for disproving a statement only requires one counter example. Thus, the fact that evidence is lacking in every respect renders the assertion uncontested.



Wednesday, October 13, 2004

4th Time’s A Charm



No, you don’t need to have your vision checked – it is a $50 parking ticket. No yellow lines or handicap signs… 50 bucks just for not having a parking pass.

But I guess since I never bought the $500 parking pass I’m actually coming out $450 ahead. HAHA! Take that, suckas!

If you look carefully, you’ll notice the time was 10:12. When I turned on my car the clock said 10:13, no joke. I pulled up to the parking attendant and tried to reason with him since I was only parked there for 10 minutes, but he said there was nothing he could do about it. He said I could appeal it but I would need a better excuse than that [makes zigzag snapping motion].

Seriously though, this is my fourth ticket since I’ve been going to school here and it’s starting to get old. My appeals for the other tickets didn’t get them revoked, but I have a good feeling about this one. In the past, my fatal mistake has been telling the truth to the Parking Department. Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire.

Bearing this in mind, I have resolved to submit the best excuse I can come up with. I’ve listed some possibilities that others have suggested, but let me know if you have another one! Also let me know which one you think is best. This is one time your vote might actually count for something! (joking again)

I saw someone getting mugged so I pulled in and went
to help them.

I had explosive diarrhea and I didn’t want that stuff
in my car again.

I was putting groceries in my friend’s room and 5
minutes later I had a ticket.

I sprained my ankle and no one else could drive me
there.

I ran out of gas so someone helped me push it into a
spot and we went to the BP station.

I work for a company that goes to each campus
making sure their parking services are in good working order...and I know yours
is now.

Saturday, October 09, 2004

Magician David says, "Would you believe it?"

Today marks the first time in three years that I remembered my own birthday. Since it is my 21st that might have something to do with it. In honor of this occasion, here are some pictures from a magazine I found. It was published in the year I was born - the year of the mini van.



Room for seven!


Thursday, October 07, 2004

Question #3

"I am not sure if this is the kind of question that you normally answer and it may be sort of a hard one. My girlfriend has been getting on my nerves lately but I have a hard time talking to her about it. Every time I try she gets all googley eyed and I can’t do it."
- Joey


I answer all types of questions.

I’m sorry to hear about your girlfriend’s eye problem. I can only image how deranged she must look. When my eyes itch I sometimes use Clearasil eye drops and I think it can make swelling go down as well. If that doesn’t work try getting her to wear sunglasses all the time.

I know the other part is trivial compared to whole ‘eye’ thing but I have some suggestions for handling your emotions, too. The easiest thing to do is just suppress your anger. That usually works pretty well. Eventually though, you’ll have to channel your rage toward something else - like your dog, the sales clerk at the mall, and all the people you come into daily contact with - so just be ready for that. But remember, killing people should always be the last resort, cause man, those guys on CSI are good.

Also, if you just want to let her know that you are mad try giving her a red rose, since red is the color of rage. She should be able to take a hint.

Monday, October 04, 2004

Swing Jumping and Monkey-Bar Fighting

Monkey-bar fighting is a little bit different from regular bar fighting. Both involve their fair share of slugs and jostles, but usually one has less pool cue bashing and beer mug projectiles.

The other night I couldn’t sleep. It was partially because I seem to have mild insomnia, but also I couldn’t stop thinking about my childhood for some reason. I have no idea how I can remember some of this stuff or why it suddenly came to mind.

When I was in the second grade we used to monkey-bar fight at recess. Just like members of any other social structure, second graders have to earn their honor. At my school, being the last one hanging upside-down from the jungle gym, with your opponent lying tattered on the ground, was one way to do so. It sounds like little kids could really get hurt roughhousing until one of them falls from the top of the jungle gym, but the pebble gravel on our playground was possibly the most amazing material man has ever produced. You couldn’t get hurt on it no matter how high you fell from, regardless of whether or not you landed on your head.

An equally exhilarating recess pastime was swing jumping, although it was less violent and spectator-like. Swing jumping is a competitive sport in which the contenders leap from their swings at the peak of their ascent. The contender that soars the furthest though the air is the winner, although style points can be awarded for exceptionally impressive dismounts or landings. Again, the pebble gravel usually kept us from killing ourselves. To read more about this, check out my comment on The Art of Swing Jumping.

On a day that seemed like any other day, Scott Schoegger and I were walking though the play ground just shooting the breeze. He was one of my good buddies and we had been that way since we started grade school. As we walked by the swing set someone called out to me. It was Brandon Edwards. Rick Thurston was there as well. They were two more of the guys I hung out with.

“Hey Drew,” shouted Brandon (That is what they called me), “See if you can jump further than me today!”

“I doubt you’ve gotten any better since yesterday,” I yelled back. “Common Scott, let’s go jump.”

“Nah, I don’t really feel like it.”

“Common, we do this all the time.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I really fit in with those guys.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re just different.”

“What do you mean, common, I’m gonna go jump.”

“Nah, you go ahead. I think I want to be alone right now anyway.”

So I went.

To me nothing about Scott ever seemed to be particularly odd. All kids look funny in the second grade. I mean everybody’s head is so freakin big. I don’t know. Maybe it was in the way he walked. Maybe it was in the way he talked. But neither of these mannerisms seemed strange to me. I didn’t see any reason why they couldn’t all get along. I didn’t understand.

Bandon and Rick were my friends just like Scott was my friend. Why should I have had to stop hanging out with certain friends just because one didn’t get along with the others? And besides, I was the reigning champion swing jumper. What would they have thought if I denied their challenge? What would people have said? I had to go, right? That was what I was thinking.

After that day things between Scott and I were never really the same. We still said ‘Hi’ when we walked past each other, but having a conversation just became awkward. Throughout the rest of our careers as elementary school students we talked less and less, and after the fifth grade I never saw him again.


Today, I can’t help but wonder if that decision that I made in the second grade ultimately determined who I am today. Did I choose who I am? Does every trivial intermediary process I go through determine what kind of man I will be tomorrow, and in turn what kind of man I will be thirty years from tomorrow? And if I mess up is there no going back? It seems irrational to say that my identity is independent of the decisions I make. Such metaphysics would require a defined set of consequences to occur regardless of the preceding actions. Maybe I am not actually capable of making decisions at all. My identity makes my decisions. Then I cannot change unless it changes me.




A scorpion and a frog sit near a stream.

The scorpion asks the frog, “Would you give me a ride across the stream?”
The frog replies, “I can’t trust you! You’re a scorpion.”
“Sure you can,” says the scorpion.

The frog lets the scorpion jump on its back, and they set off to cross the stream. About halfway across, the scorpion stings the frog.

“Why’d you do that?” asks the frog. “Now we’re both gonna die.”
The scorpion answers, “I can’t help it, I’m a scorpion.”


Friday, October 01, 2004

Question #2

"Is ADD a neurological evolution?"
- Penny


As a person with an extremely short attention span I can tell you three things. 1.) a short attention span is definitly indicative of a more advanced organism [that will one day conquer Earth] and 2.) Kenny Barron is a great jazz musician.

Okay, I'll be serious for once. I don't think that the increasing number diagnoses of ADD and ADHD over the years is due to evolution in its truest sense. Evolution involves a change in genetic composition, thus a change in behavior is not necessarily evolution unless it causes speciation (basically those exhibiting the new behavior no longer mate with those exhibiting the original behavior). My guess would be that the wide spectrum of this flux in human thought processes is directly related to our environment. The emergence of indecision, finiky behavior, and inability to focus should be expected with the increasing complexity of our lifestyles. People are simply becoming overstimulated by the variety of choices we have. The levels of "ADD" we are currently observing among the population may have always been present, but only now does it reveal itself as new factors have been introduced.

And to make matters worse, many states in the U.S. don't even allow kids to play dodgeball in school anymore. I don't care what other people say, I think it's friendly game.