book plug

I haven't read all of it, but I've finished one-third, as it's a quick read. A Dose of Sanity by Sydney Walker III, MD (1996) is written by a psychiatrist noting the non-scientific approach too many psychiatrists have for what they-call-medicine. So far, my favorite quote is, "... very little is undiagnosable, but much is not being diagnosed". This is a general theme to the book, noting also misdiagnoses and the theory of labelling that the psychological profession loves to do.

I would recommend this book for whomever find the topic and theme of interest.

I thought you were supposed to play dead!

There are a few suburban opposums around, but I have yet to capture one digitally. I saw one last night, but it was not obliging for photography, instead, looked at me with reflective eyes in the night and slowly walked away. I have never really seen one run, only lumber and walk with an alligator-like gait; swagger with hips in action or somewhat gracefully like a chameleon trying to imitate wind on leaves, feigning non-existence.

I'll be good and thankful when I can catch up to one and it fall over, stinking dead -- their skin exuding mucous smelling of rot, cleverly disuading predators from consuming them. Yes ... I'll take one faking death, but real dead ones, stink really foul. I know, last year I helped a neighbor move one with a bloated stomch that we both feared would rupture and explode a mixture of gasses and smells that would make your own fecal matter more appetizing.

Alas, should I ever want photos of the dead, I could drive to a local county park fixed on a growing-heavier traffic road, lined on either side with the dead that didn't make it to the other side, alive. I understand that one naturalist who works at the park, actually uses the dead fauna for count and species to know what kind of critters and some (extrapolated) population densities of species. There are few dead deer on that strip, but several raccoons die every week. They must have a healthy population to sustain such population losses.

One more bit on Dirty Jobs

I haven't seen each and every one, but I have seen a few. A few, chosen, jobs were not very dirty but okay to watch. A, less than really dirty job was crayfish (insert any other term for them) fisherman or really ... gatherer wasn't especially dirty, but mildly funny. The flatboat pilot was about as simple of a man as I've seen. He hard spoke a word, though I wouldn't write him off as dumb. He joke spoke simply and remotely. Simple folk live in the bayous of the Gulf states, simple folk. The crayfish gatherer here used shad, but said only that it's a fish, knowing little else about them because it wasn't important to him. Comedy through conversation.

He spent time with department of natural resources, who are responsible for determining when "shrimping season" opens yearly. The slop in it all was okay, but absent was the concentration of the collection. It wasn't the main focus, but I would have been intrigued by closely examining the haul from bottom-feeders. At its face, the bulk were small fish, too large to escape the hauling process of dragnets. I did see, unaware until that time, that rays (cousins to sharks and kites) have tongues.

Healthy Entertainment

I make no point to knock myself out watching any program, since there are so few that are worth anything, but ... there are a few that can be edutainment. Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe, as his "trained" friend said is his favorite show. It isn't completely slapstick or standup humor credits to credits, but worth watching.

I saw last night, his "Casino Food Recycler" episode. He was in Vegas and got Turtle's (a real behind-the-scenes stagehand) job of fowl cleaning. The show was okay, until he met up with Bill, the "recycler" when this simple Nevada pig farmer with ramshackle, piece-it-together-yourself equipment had Mike there to "help" him. What wasn't clear was if Bill, the farmer, had any other person helping him. The daily job -- DAILY, was gruelling and too much for one. Bill, not young, but wily showed Mike the ropes.

It had to be -- the nastiest, grossest, funniest job, I have ever seen. I think they chose to film during Fall/Winter, becuase the Summer heat would make the pig slop far too ripe. Without giving much away, as the episdoe bears watching, Mike was deep in all mixed buffet waste from the casinos in Vegas. Each day, truckloads (tons) arrive for sorting ... I can say nothing more than the grossness is well superceeded by the hilarity of the entire thing.

I nearly cried about the milk. In fact, I think, needing a laugh terribly, I think I did cry or let loose my bladder. Funny, funny, dirty jobs.

Thanks Discovery!

New technology could nip DVD format war in the bud

September 26, 2006 from Reuters

 

Movie studios save money and consumers don't have to worry about buying the "right" player

The format war around next generation DVDs may be over before it has begun, thanks to a breakthrough from a British media technology company.

Britain-based New Medium Enterprises (NME) said today it had solved a technical production problem that makes it possible to produce a cheap multiple-layer DVD disk containing one film in different, competing formats.

"Current technologies to create multiple layer disks mostly don't work. We've created a technology for mass production of multiple layers that does not suffer from the well known problem of low yields," said NME Chief Technology Officer Eugene Levich.

A low yield means that many DVDs coming off the manufacturing lines are not working and have to be discarded.

The production costs of a multi-layer DVD using the new NME technology are estimated to be around 9 cents, compared with the 6 cents for a standard single-layer play-back DVD, according to Dutch company ODMS, one of the world's leading makers of production lines for optical disks.

This 50% cost increase compares favorably with the current generation of multi-layer recordable DVD disks which cost 3 to 5 times as much to produce than a single layer disk, due to low yields.

The technological breakthrough comes one week after three employees at movie studio Warner Bros. filed a patent for the application of multiple formats on a single DVD disc.

"There's no collision between Warner and us. They patent the application, we are patenting the technology. These are complementary patents. I'm glad it's happened. Warner opened our eyes, because it shows they really want to do this and create multi-format, multi-layer disks," Levich said.

Time Warner is the world's largest media company and owns Warner Bros. Former Warner Home Video President James Cardwell joined NME as a board member last month.

Nipped in the Bud?

Multiple format DVD disks can solve the emerging war between the two new high capacity DVD formats: Blu-Ray, which is backed by Sony Corp., and Toshiba-supported HD-DVD.

High capacity DVD disks are needed to store high definition movies on a single disk. Movies stored in high definition provide five to six times more picture detail than standard definition which is used in normal DVDs.

Hollywood studios have been choosing sides in the DVD format war, each supporting one of the two formats. Some have said they will produce films in both, in addition to the standard DVD format.

By putting the same film on a single disk in the two competing formats, movie studios can save money and consumers do not have to worry if they are buying the right disk for their player.

The technological breakthrough by NME was confirmed by ODMS.

"I can confirm this. We were very skeptical when NME approached us. We have experience with producing dual layer recordable DVD discs and the yield is below 50%. But their technology gives a much higher yield and also brings other cost savings," said ODMS Chief Executive Jadranko Dovic.

ODMS said it will have the first prototype production line using NME's technology running by early 2007.

NME said it had also created new technology for the machines which have to read and write the disk, which is another bottleneck with multi-layer disks. The current generation of DVD players can read up to two layers.

NME has created DVD disks with up to 10 different layers that were still readable. It has created its own player, but it is willing to license the technology to mainstream consumer electronics companies, Levich said.

Movies on a DVD are stored at different depths depending on the technology. Blu-ray discs store information only 0.1 millimetre from the surface while HD-DVD discs store it at 0.6 millimeters. Movies longer than two hours would need to be stored on two layers of the same format very close to each other.

 

little bird

A little bird, flipped by the driver behind me, let me know today that perhaps, just maybe ... I was in the wrong.

prose and cons

Restless, yet ... sober, I'm typing still. My heart and mind are not still and are not right. My awful prose of drinking and attempts at death are just that ... typing. I'm sure, analytically I call pull out many fine points and use experience and history to Fruedian-pull out meaning in relations to my ego and superego battling like Ramos and Rommulus, knowing one survives, the other killed by the survivor. I think, yawning now, I'll finish with a more recent doctor who my say that my shoes were too tight.

In a cup; death

and I drank it greedily. It promised murder, contracted by the drinker to the drinker. It promised me. Damnit, it promised me. Liar! Angerily, I slapped the cup to the ground and it shattered. My dreams of quick smiting were shattered still. I bent down to pick up the pieces of my dream -- my wish. Oh, fainting, but just almost. I was weak, fell on my knees then side. I reached out my hand to the shards, slip. My hand pussed a little blood. I tongue lolled out and my head hit the ground. My breath now in short pants. Oh, for one last bit, the drop I see slipping around on the floor. My arm numbs and only my eyes and fingers move. Gasp, gasp, gasp ... I'm breathing less now.

My eyes are closing, opening, closing ... not really blinking. My mind is flushing away. If only .... if only death. Surely his cloak is dark, black, like my vision now. I can hear me breathing, now only thinking. I hardly know my voice. It ...
isn't ... th ---------------

In moments, life begins again and I am whole; flesh and bone and I breath in the air. I painfully sit up and see the shattered cup. The drop of liquid -- thin near-death for cleaning and droplets of my blood. My hand is still bleeding, I see it pump with my beating heart. Oh ...

It's a struggle to stand, but through tugging on objects and a desire ... I stand again. I'm dizzy as I pan around. I'm, not sure who I am, but I know this place. I see the table, the floor and a bottle. The bottle with a happy label and happier contents. I pick up the bottle and slosh the keen liquid around. I set it down, my friend and tap it lightly. "Death? Are you in there my friends?" "Yes", was the reply.

More steps, more steps across the floor ... the table. I collapse into a chair. Oh ... I hurt, l ike a man shot with a thousand arrows. I don't ever want to stand again, but I must. Push .. push ... push ... I lean against the table. The world spins and I wait for it to slow. It slows but continues to twist, turn and spin. I bang my way back to the bottle. In a rare feat of coordination, I carry with me a coffee mug. I don't know if it's empty.

Clump ... the mug finds it's way to the counter. In a sloppy move, I hit the glass by mistake and the lovely sinfuly drink spills, but none in the glass. I panic and pick up the bottle but it spins away from me. I sway and can't move fast. Flash! An idea comes ... I put the mug under the horizontal bottle. With luck, I tip it and mulled poison fills the cup.

Dear! Cup in hand, I fall onto my butt with a thud. I'm splashed, but much of it is in the cup ... mug, I no longer care about words. The world is spinning, twisting and I don't know my name.

My word is that a good drink!

When you want to do it, do it! (it's better not to read this)

I'm not really referring to not smoking, but that's a great idea to not smoke, but rather end one's life. So often, it being a selfish act anyway, persons try to get more attention that trying to commit to success. Oh, loook ... I'm going to email everyone that I just swallowed a buttload of pills (6) and will be dying shortly. Please don't try to stop me. I'll take the good time to TXT message everyone too. Now, if they want to really do it and injure no one else, then commit to it. There are many surer ways to go than to gobble pilss, only to end up with mild complications or vomit on your would-be death shroud.

There aren't any really good pills to ensure that your stomach doesn't revolt, so pills -- for most, isn't the most effective way. Taking a header off a very tall spot (6 stories, at least) generally is a good bet, when the ground is good and solid like concrete or highway. While I dismissed pills as, generally, a poor way to exit, I'm not discounting chemistry in the least bit.

For $25, you can really nastily go out burning, especially with a pool of gas (inhaling the fumes) holding onto a partially pushed llghter with doublestick tape. Upon passing out, the lighter is set and up your unconscious body goes. To burn up alive -- gruesome and most panic, trying then to put out the fire. By the time aid comes, the victim then regrets trying to live.

A far more effective chemical way would be to shelter yourself in a small area (don't leave anyone around to be killed after you or trying to save you). A hotplate with potassium cyanide (rat poison+) mixed with vaporous mineral spirits or rubbing alcohol and model glue should -- in 30 some minutes of exposure open your mind, collapse your lungs and terminate life functions. In the moments before passing, the person should have a short-lived conscious euphoria before entering subconscious nirvana then death.

+ better powdered or crushed. The particular ratio of solid to liquid may seem critical, but a good rule of thumb should be 1:2 or 1:2.6(3) solid to liquid. Because of the inert matter in the rat poison, the effectiveness isn't obvious until the chemicals are superheated into a vaporous state. Smoking directly prior to this process may inhibit the cynanide's uptake into the bloodstream through the lungs.

Wererabbit

If you like Wallace and Gromit, this falls in line with the other animated features, almost exactly. It wasn't a great movie, by any stretch and has no start to finish rewatchability, but .... due to the animation and graphics it is rewatchable nearly in its entirety. Considering the projected age level and background on Wallace and Gromit (no back story on scientific adataptations (thank goodness), I'd put it a 6.0. It might rank a bit higher, but some themes would be lost or boring to kids as a general rule.

Speaking to the self

I had a too-long conversation with my nephew today. His subject ... only subject -- himself. I listend, for rarely was I involved in the conversation -- monologuing. My only contribution was that I saved my other family from hours-long topic about him. I took the proverbial bullet this time. I spoke much to him on growing, developing ... on becoming a person, fat lot of good it did. In the end, I guess I spared my family some long, boring conversation anyway.

Rarely have a met a person so self-centric, whereas all else is lost and unimportant other than self. Sick.

Oil money matters, Thanks Jay

"Two hundred miles off the coast of New Orleans the largest oil reserve is believed to have been discovered. It could increase our reserves by 50 percent and be worth over $15 billion. This reserve could cut the price of gas by a penny!"

--Jay Leno  

And Owl (tangent story from a children's tale)

And Owl sat down to make fresh tear tea. With pot on lap Owl thought of many sad thoughts, each making him tearful and the drops rolled down his sad cheeks into the kettle. He thought of half-eaten cookies, wilted flowers, unmade popcorn. Within minutes, he kettle was half, but his tears stopped. Why, thought Owl. Why can't I cry anymore? He jostled the kettle and realized there was enough to make tea, but still -- sad as it was, Owl couldn't cry any more.

The howling cold wind beat against the windows, shutters clanking back and forth. Owl was glad to be inside. The wind growled and howled, smoke from the fireplace oven toyed with coming into the house. The once-pleasant fire now hummed and cowerd. "Go away wind", Owl chided. The wind did not obey.

"Go away wind, you're scaring me." Still the wind did not subside. Fierce was the wind, rain coming with it in sheets. Thunder strikes, lighning flashes; a scary storm indeed. The candle beside Owl flutters, shaking itself. Owl's chair was no longer comfortable. He drews the blanket up around his chin.

Bam ... bam bam bam! The door quivered at the hinges, something was attacking the door.

Bam bam bam bam bam ... creak. The door was now slightly opened.

Whoosh! The wind belched open the door, then drew it closed again. In that instant, Owl saw something that brought him fear; no, terror. He wanted to jump behind the chair. He wanted to shout, "go away", but he was too frightened.

bam bam ba -- the door opened again, something stepped in ... the candle went out. Owl screeched, for that's what owls do. Only this screech meant, "Get out! Get out now!"

Clump, clump, clump ... wet footsteps. Owl dared to peek. In the flashes of lightning and the now weak fire he saw a figure at the door. It "hmpht" then pushed close the door. The door latched closed.

Owl tried to sit still, but he was quaking so much that the chair was alive with fright. Before Owl could speak -- for he wanted to scream again, the thing; the figure spoke.

"Owl? Owl? Are you home?"

Shocked, Owl knew this voice, still he had trouble speaking. He managed a peep and a squirk, but nothing else. The figure walked wetly over to the fire which found it's courage again. The wind was even less angry now. Sizzling from the drops of water hissed from the bricks. The figure turned to the chair, clearly seeing a shaking and scared Owl.

"Owl", dismay in his voice, "why didn't you open the door? Didn't you hear me?"

"I did" murmured Owl, humbled by the figures accounting. "I just ... I", but then words escaped him.

"Why, you're shaking Owl. Are you that cold? I think it feels nice in here", Ferret cheerfully spoke.

At last Owl found some bit of luck and said something he liked, "I, uh. Hello Ferret. Nice to see you." After saying it, he felt foolish, but it soothed him enough that he stopped shaking. The small room now looked smaller with his friend there, but somehow -- it was warmer. A smile crept across his wet face. He then realized that he had been crying and his kettle was overfilled. Owl, feeling stupid again stood and shook Ferret's hand.

Ferret grabbed his hand and pulled Owl over for a hug. "You fool. What have you been doing? I see and feel your kettle. It doesn't feel hot and I don't (sniff, sniff) smell tea. Mind if I sit down?"

Breaking the hug, "Yes, yes Ferret, sit down. I'm sorry that I didn't", his shame mocking him, "open the door. You see, I wasn't ... the storm ... you, see?"

Ferret didn't, but he let it go. "Now then, what's you say he put the kettle on the fire, eh?" Ferret did just that and the gales of wind and storm struck again, but Ferret seemed deaf to it all, ignoring even the loudest crack of thunder. Owl, was not so brave and flutterred his eyes with each crack of thunder. Lightning wasn't fun for him either. He hated the whole bit of it.

In a short while of silence between the two, the kettle spoke up, whistling heat. "I'll pour", Ferret chanted as he grabbed two cups and the hot kettle. The brave fire not only heated the water, but also krinkled up higher and lit up two friends' faces. Ferret sniffled, then sneezed into the fire -- pzzzt, "sneezes sizzle, then, right", Ferret joked with Owl.

"Oh, right. Ha ha", Owl surprised with the conversation and the comical sneeze. He happily took the cup of tea from Ferret. "Hmm ... smells good. I needed this!"

"You? I traveled through all of that. I'm the one who's cold", it sounded to brash after Ferret said it, so he continued, "but it's nice being insdie. Hey, Owl. (sip) What kind of tea is this? It tastes kinda, I don't know ... sad."

"Oh, that. It's not the tea. You see, I've been crying ..." Owl told Ferret about all of the silly things that made him cry, but then found that he could think of more, far more. Things he thought now were frightfully sad. He didn't want to mention them, but he stumbled away and started listing them.

Ferret, bemused by the start was sniffling again, not because of the cold, but rather because he too, now, was sad. "My, my. Have you been carrying all that with you all this time? I mean, man! That's so much for one person."

Owl stopped. He took a breath and the tears he had while talking with Ferret were finally gone. He was out of them, totally. Though sad-tasting, Owl could now enjoy his tear tea. Ferret quickly composed himself again, no longer sniffling and swigged his tea quickly. While neither paid attention, the storm had slunk away, for it was not longer the center of attention. With spatters on the windows, it threatened to return some day.

-----------not quite done, but------------

Sadness, shared with a friend, can lessen the load and a friend can help and find you, even when not called.

Lebanese refugees I like

These don't follow Hezbollah or even know who they are. They are the companions -- pets and animals expelled due to warfare and strife. Animals don't work conventionally, but I think that America will take them!

The "comma", for those who haven't read it.

BLITZER: Let’s move on and talk a little bit about Iraq. Because this is a huge, huge issue, as you know, for the American public, a lot of concern that perhaps they are on the verge of a civil war–if not already a civil war–We see these horrible bodies showing up, tortured, mutilation. The Shia and the Sunni, the Iranians apparently having a negative role. Of course, al Qaeda in Iraq is still operating.

BUSH: Yes, you see — you see it on TV, and that’s the power of an enemy that is willing to kill innocent people. But there’s also an unbelievable will and resiliency by the Iraqi people…. Admittedly, it seems like a decade ago. I like to tell people when the final history is written on Iraq, it will look like just a comma because there is — my point is, there’s a strong will for democracy. (emphasis added)

.....
I understand the "thought" behind it was, a small pause, but that REALLY wasn't put together at all. Sadly, Arab war is much like the weather, though changing there is always weather; be it hot or cold cloudy or clear; there will always be war.

I'm afraid this is a battle you cannot win

George Bush's "comma" comment finishes a well-needed volume on things not to say while President. Co-co-author, Jim Jones Johnson, of the book, "How to Speak President Fluently" concedes that George contributed "quite a bit to the book" which only covers Gerald Ford to George W. Bush. "Actually, come to think of it ... Quayle added chapters in his own right George's recent comment just kind of added another flower on the frosting, as it were", mused Johnson. Other favorites were Clinton during the many scandals, 'denying equals lying' chapter compiled and edited by other co-author Carl Moorse.

The many authors of this book intend to venture abroad to cover other leaders in other free press nations, when they are granted access.

And he was

Joining the world of -- missing puppies and he was+ ...

Goodbye dear friend, Thunderheart. Your last months were unattractive, arthritis and little joy. Oh, but the joy you brought to others. You went camping, cooking, with girlscouts, boyscouts -- walking with others, defending them too. Your Halloween costume was never the same year to year. You put up with being used as a pillow, dress up doll ... makeup and nails painted. You got treats and handfed when a puppy and as an old man. You up and left to wander home -- walking at least 60 miles, foolish boy!

You were as much family as any, though Mom intermittantly let you have control of furniture. You barked at dogs, never acknowledging yourself as one. You let birds fly around you and ate spiders. Sweet boy, I'm sorry you died alone. You shouldn't and couldn't have lived forever, but you broke hearts when you died.

Bark in heaven ... your new home!
....
Join all your bretheren; the meek, mild, small, and the wild. I know others proceeded you, others will follow. I've never allowed much of my grief an avenue, or opened the dam. I think soon -- my buried losses shall walk (Day of the Dead) coming back and I shall mourn.

In Thunder's passing, I reminded all too well that I don't vent when I should ... for others I have not fully grieved. I think I'm about all stocked up on sorrow.

+ from Talking Heads, "And She Was" a lighthearted song when I need levity.

anime review

Princess Mononoke is a mildly violent with some especially violent, yet second-blip visuals. The overall theme of peace and harmony with nature, after the 2.25 hours of film is generally lost on the viewer. The action scenes are well placed, but the long-winded artistic scenes are too frequent. In general, I would not let a child under 11 watch this with me. I would not let a child 11-13 watch this without me. I think, while visually stunning and designed for theater viewing, older kids would not be very entertained by it. As an adult, the temp needed to be picked up also. I think, overall, I would rank it 5.3 with scene re-watchability only.

Castle in the Sky was packed with more slapstick and more humor, though lacked kindness in many respects. The comic relief and would-be sidekicks of the protagonists are pirates; a dubious choice at best. "What is Milton trying to say; that being evil is more fun?"+ The visuals are stunning with early 80s feel mixed with 90s Poke'mon antics and highflying (also Love Hina). The message of compassion is more fluid and the evil is truly evil, with evil men dying -- bloodlessly. I guess ... if a person were to let their child watch Poke'mon, this wouldn't be too far a cry from there, with the notable exception that people die in this cartoon. The sound is so-so and the tempo is better than Princess Mononoke, but still slow. Since this was the second time I watched it (first time in bits), I would say that it has limited re-watchability with an overall ranking of 6.1 (the Japanese sound and sync much better than English).

+ Animal House

You don't see us waging

the kind of war "they're" contemplating.  They let us look, they do invite us, but the death it brings does not entice us.

 

Ramadan prayers

Evening prayer will be conducted nightly at 9 p.m. at the Islamic Center of [this city], [some city block] St., during the month of Ramadan. A time of fasting, worship and discipline recognized by more than 1 billion Muslims worldwide annually, Ramadan began at sundown Friday. Muslims believe that during Ramadan, the ninth month on the lunar calendar, Allah revealed the first verses of the Quran, the holy book of Islam.

....

Gosh, let me decide if I should be offended, then riot and burn down the place.  Oh, wait ... no, I'll not do that.  Dear city Muslims, please try hard to convince the extremists to stop killing.  Eventually it will come back upon you, those who aren't the slaughterers.

What they've always been

Thank you Scott Stantis of Prickly City for pointing it out for even more people.  Political parties are a joke.  The one common goal:  money and power, notthing else matters.

 

The comic street opposes two party-minded individuals; each staunch in their party, one democrat one republican.  Here, Carmen sadly sees the true beast:  "Republicrats", a realistic term.