Childe Jake's Pilgrimage

My Cosmos Highlights for January 2012

2012-01-28T14:05:00.000-08:00

Nature Does Not Ask For Our Opinions

Whether or not one believes in climate change is irrelevant. Neither faith nor hypothesis decides reality. Perhaps the best citizens can do is be conversant in the ongoing research and consensus of experts. Regardless, scientists overwhelmingly agree in the reality of climate change.

The Environment Report, a service of Michigan Radio, did a short and insightful story this week entitled "Breaking Through to Climate Change Skeptics." For the price of a few minutes, reading or listening to audio, you can observe politicians and constituents stumble arrogantly over this issue...but then refine their perspective. And in turn they teach scientists a thing or two about effective communication. Great story!

Breaking Through to Climate Change Skeptics

A Three Generation Family Portrait

Photo Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

The above image is like any family portrait, except the three generations shown are robotic explorers of neighboring Mars. Very cool! Here is an excerpt from the official caption:

"Front and center is the flight spare for the first Mars rover, Sojourner, which landed on Mars in 1997 as part of the Mars Pathfinder Project. On the left is a Mars Exploration Rover Project test rover that is a working sibling to Spirit and Opportunity, which landed on Mars in 2004. On the right is a Mars Science Laboratory test rover the size of that project's Mars rover, Curiosity, which is on course for landing on Mars in August 2012."The above is taken from the NASA website.

For the complete caption, please visit NASA's Image Gallery

The Creepy Cool Sounds of The Potter's Field

2012-01-21T09:40:00.000-08:00

This week I received an old-fashioned CD in the mail. For readers who remember records and cassettes, and who just saw me refer to a compact disc as old-fashioned, you may begin vomiting now. For those of you who live by iTunes and MP3s, be aware that the seller of my CD was hip enough to let me download the entire album right after purchasing it (so I didn't have to wait for my old-fashioned CD to arrive via snail mail). And what pray tell is on this disc?

It's the debut album of Michigan-based duo The Potter's Field: Pleasureville. Here is raw video of a live performance. The song is emblematic of their creepy cool style. Please take a free listen:

If you even just sorta liked that one, now try what is perhaps my favorite song of theirs:

You Know What I Like.

I was tempted to write a review of the album "Pleasureville." After all, I have professional training as an arts and entertainment critic. The problem is I am unable to write a fully objective review of The Potter's Field or their album. I count singer Rochelle Clark as a true friend. We've worked together, laughed together, and even cried in front of each other (but I'll spare you the professional theatre stories). It's an honor to know her and her excellent music partner: singer/songwriter John Natiw.

Bias admitted, I can say this. I have a Bachelor's Degree in English and a minor in music (and my grades were great). On levels both subjective and technical, I can discern music and lyrics that are worth paying to experience. So I say with confidence that you don't need to be a close personal friend of either member of The Potter's Field to find their music wonderful. "Pleasureville" is an excellent album. The recordings are professional and have even begun to score airtime on radio. The songs are a masterful blend of the beautiful, the personal, the earthy, and yes...even the creepy. It's good stuff!

You would do well to visit The Potter's Field website:

www.pottersfieldmusic.com

'Physics for Future Presidents' and/or Dummies

2012-01-14T14:31:00.000-08:00

Physics for Future Presidents: The Science Behind the Headlines by Richard A. Muller

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is one of several books I learned of by listening to NPR. It is based on a popular class the author teaches. And having now read the book, I'd love to take the class.

Dr. Muller tackles all of the hot button topics that utilize scientific inquiry: the environment, energy policy, space exploration, etc. His chief goal is to compile a handbook of rudimentary knowledge a President ought to have at his/her disposal when making policy decisions. Think about it. Should homeland security be governed by someone who has no practical knowledge of how "dirty bombs" work? (And why most terrorists don't bother trying to make them.)

Another of Dr. Muller's goals is clearly to point out popular and deeply flawed notions the public has about issues like nuclear power and the environment. As it turns out, we all know many things that 'just ain't so.'

My only gripe with this book is Dr. Muller's pessimistic take on human space exploration. Of course he is against it. None of the research he is doing requires it. It serves his academic passions to focus solely on robotic space probes. Still, I think the book is great. And it is a sad certainty that the people who need to read this book the most, won't.

View all my reviews

Best of Facebook Status Updates: Volume 5

2012-01-07T12:08:00.000-08:00

On the lighter side

When a coworker brings in half of a Cookie Monster b'day cake to share, and then has you take home a section, try to make sure it's not the section with just the muppet's eyes. Cuz it's kind of spooky. I mean, I ate it. It was delicious. But it was spooky delicious.
When God closes a door, Congress defunds the window.
I'm watching the Kardashians on E Channel. So I understand women now.
I love this new shirt so much I'm gonna share my Faygo soda with it.
Haven't seen Captain America. But I'm already looking forward to the slightly darker, more cerebral sequel where the title character will confront deep personal doubts and leave movie fans praising the film's innovative story.
Gotta be honest. I actually did have a bat fly straight at my face a couple weeks ago, but I have yet to want to wear spandex or fight crime.
I am the Rocky Horror fan of NPR. Earlier, during a piece on the melting of the Arctic Ice Sheet, a climatologist prefaced her research by saying, "What happens in the Arctic..." I bolted upright and shouted at my radio, "Stays in the Arctic!!" That's not what she said next, but for a moment I totally felt like I was part of the broadcast.

On a serious note:

I went to the Borders viewing last night. Despite purchasing four pieces of the cadaver at 20% off, I still left despondent.
‎'If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace.' Thomas Paine, 1776

An American Penguin

2011-12-31T14:31:00.000-08:00

When I first created a cute penguin using Adobe Illustrator, I could not have anticipated the outpouring of support, the clamoring for more, the sheer love that this fella would generate from my readers. It is with great pride that I show where the penguin now resides, ensconced among the most revered historical figures of this land.

Sincere thanks to Adobe Photoshop CS5, y'know, for helping me crop the image...and thanks to Jim Bowen and Wikimedia Commons, y'know, for taking a photo that looks remarkably like mine.

Not a Creature was Stirring...

2011-12-27T14:31:00.000-08:00

But they were about to be stirred...

As part of my investigative photo journalistic efforts, I infiltrated my parents' home during Christmas and found this disturbing sight. I swear I did not personally stage this photo. Said fuzzy critters were subsequently rescued and the nearby turkey was cooked instead. No statements were provided by my niece or nephew despite repeated attempts to get them to sit still. Asked for comment, grand-parental figures only giggled. I am going ahead with releasing this photo in the hopes that this never happens again.

My Cosmos Clearinghouse for December 2011

2011-12-17T10:37:00.000-08:00

Solar Sail To The Rescue

It turns out solar sailing, using energy from the sun to propel spacecraft, may help improve quality of life on Earth. Observing spacecraft powered by solar sails could provide more advanced warning time. Warning time to whom? And for what? To operators of satellites and power grids so they can brace for harmful solar flares. This brief NASA video includes some great footage and graphics.

Regular readers know I have blogged about solar sails before. I am a fan. For some background, you can read my post Harnessing "The Wind From the Sun"

Dawn Spacecraft Getting Even Closer to Vesta

Also proving the relevance and wonder of space exploration is the Dawn spacecraft. As I write these words, Dawn is in a low orbit that brings it within 130 miles of the asteroid Vesta. In addition to radiation and gravity data, Dawn's successful orbit of the second largest asteroid in the main belt brings us one step closer to human exploration. Given that similar objects have routinely struck the Earth and likely will again, the need to be well-practiced at intercepting them should be obvious. Sadly, it isn't obvious to many, including elected officials. So here is another reason to explore asteroids and comets that should reach a wider swath of humanity: mining profits.

Artist concept based on Dawn images of the asteroid Vesta
Image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

Excerpts from a Novel Rough Draft

2011-12-10T08:37:00.000-08:00

As promised, here are some excerpts from the rough draft of my first novel. To me, they seem very rough but have promise. Who knows if they will survive a second revision? I would be grateful for any reactions you have from reading these smidgens.

From Part One of Retrograde, Wanderer

Though he was now husky, and his clothing underscored a lack of vitality, even a haggardness, still when he pivoted to walk back up toward town center, he did so with the elegance and poise of a dancer--and this was no coincidence. Even having let himself go quite a bit in the past couple of years, he walked with a purposeful bounce, an inherent deliberateness. Passing by the trinket shop that fronted the street and creek on two sides, he took on the gate of a man about to get something over with. Past an empty store front and then past the chamber of commerce, he turned onto Middle Street. A new car was parked on the street in front of the office he was about to help close for business. The last client, Evan surmised.

From Part Two of Retrograde, Wanderer

Now Evan listened to the vintage 56K modem connect to a remote server and download his latest e-mail. Simultaneously, he opened up his draft folder to a document with the subject line: Notice of Voluntary Suspension of Membership.

The document read as follows:

Dear Worshipful Master, Sojourner’s Lodge No. 103

With due respect, and gratitude for the brotherhood and fellowship I have often enjoyed in the Lodge, I respectfully withdraw my membership. For a variety of reasons, which I am more than willing to discuss if you desire clarification, I cannot continue as a member of Freemasonry. In good conscience, I hereby withdraw my membership. Simply put, I do not feel that this is either the civic or theological home for me ... You also have my word as gentleman, that I will never share with others those secrets of the Lodge which I was provided as part of my membership, Again, if you have any questions, please feel free to write or call me. But I must cease my formal association with the fraternity, effective immediately.

Sincerely,

Evan Lawrence Morgan

From Part Three of Retrograde, Wanderer

“Don’t name him,” the suddenly impish Phil said. Evan whirled again toward miniature Marlotte. “Why must you name him? Why must you ravage every last sacred tale? Let some things remain mysterious and fabled. Your brain will feel so much better.” And now he, they both, stood in a cold horizontal pillar of cobalt haze. Marlotte shivered and then spoke again. “Evan, this universe is getting so cold. It’s moving too fast away from itself. It’s…it’s…” Evan stumbled forward and then back. The sun turned cool blue and icy like a crystal sphere. Then Phil dropped down into a crouch and slammed the backs of his hands on the dirt drive so that they shattered into ice shards. “It’s too architect-damned cold!”

Pining for 'Life on Mars' and Earth

2011-12-03T14:14:00.000-08:00

Life on Mars by Tracy K. Smith

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

What I find most enlivening about Life on Mars is how naturally and completely Tracy K. Smith erases the line between sci-fi, sci-reality, and contemporary poetry. This isn’t one genre impersonating another. Nor is it a medley that vacillates awkwardly between different idioms. This is a singular work with no confines other than the governing forces of the universe: space, time and gravity.

Ms. Smith doesn’t other the universe as so many of us do—compartmentalizing it into a distant and foreign place that some foolishly regard as irrelevant. All that existence is mingles on the page to produce a longing for emotional communion and intellectual understanding. For me, it is heartwarming to see another creative thinker who interacts with the cosmos on such a spiritually holistic, yet grounded humanistic plane.

I find Life on Mars very accessible, but not thin or superficial. Smith’s voice is confident and unapologetic, but also exudes tenderness. The poems give voice to a range of universal feelings: desire for intimacy; desire to transcend; and desire to renew. Life on Mars explores what it means to be human in the post-Einstein, post-Apollo, and soon to be post-Hubble universe.

Lastly, I had the delightful chance to share a couple of these poems with a niece and nephew over Thanksgiving weekend. They are teenagers. We were looking for things to do other than watch TV, so I exercised my avuncular gravitas and made them read poetry. I had them take turns reading a poem aloud. And I told them not to get hung up if it didn’t make sense right away.

Afterwards, we discussed what the poems got them thinking about. I won’t go into specifics but it was wonderful to see their intellects churning, coming up with ideas while mulling over initially cryptic phrases. We arrived at a place where we could talk candidly about what it means to be a human these days. My thanks to the author. Life on Mars is poetry that provokes rich discussion across generations.

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Winner Status for a Childe Novelist

2011-11-25T07:05:00.000-08:00

For my currently 52,610 word manuscript, I have earned the below badge from
National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo). To be a winner required writing 50,000 words during November. Today I'm thankful for my sister Andie, who reminded me about this month-long event for writers. But the work isn't done. I need to sit back down and write some more to reach the end of the story. My personal goal is to have a complete rough draft by November 30th.

Washtenaw County Leaves and Berries

2011-11-19T11:54:00.000-08:00

But first

Much gratitude for the outpouring of support I received on Facebook earlier this week after my biggest, wordiest session of National Novel Writing Month. If all goes well, I will summit Mount Fiftythousandwordmanuscript later this week. Expect a few sneak peeks of the rough draft on a blog post coming soon. And now...

Happy Thanksgiving to All
And to All a Good Bingefest

Autumn Leaves in Washtenaw County, Michigan

When next we interact, I will likely be digesting a turkey sandwich made with leftover dark meat and a wee bit of cartilage. But in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this photo that I snagged just outside the office one afternoon a few days ago. On a bittersweet note that matches the tone of my novel, I call the above image Goodbye or See You Soon

Blue Shift and the Penguin Cometh

2011-11-12T13:22:00.000-08:00

I created the above starburst in Adobe Photoshop CS5. It is made entirely of fill layers, filters and effects and does not utilize a photograph. Wish I could say I did it all on my own, but I actually relied on an easy to follow video tutorial from PhotoShop Gurus Forum. The tutorial was created by site member Apengo. However, I customized the finished image to include the blue shift. In Einstein-speak, a blue shift indicates the star is moving toward you.

And Here's the Penguin

I built this fella in Adobe Illustrator CS5. I say 'built' because I didn't really draw him. He's more an assembly of shapes and gradient patterns that have been carefully assembled in layers. Kinda makes me feel like Dr. Frankenstein...y'know if Frankenstein created a cartoon penguin.

Anyhoo, I made said penguin by following a tutorial created by designer Chris Spooner over at Blog.SpoonGraphics. Thank you very much Mr. Spooner. I spent about 4 hours on this guy, and about a third of that was spent trying to figure out the mesh gradient on the darn feet. Seriously though, this one was very fun and rewarding. Don't ya just wanna snuggle him?

Now for some seriously fun (and funny) comic creation, go explore the phantasmagorical world of Dead Duck.

My Run for the 'Rose Red'

2011-11-05T14:30:00.000-07:00

But first...

My thanks to prolific blogger Pillownaut for giving last week's post 'Humility' a nice influx of readers via social networking. Always nice when bloggers give one another a boost. 'Humility' is the second in what will hopefully be a series of pieces that combine original poetry and pictures of the cosmos. The first was 'Pilgrimage Vignette.'

Now for a fun review!

Fables: Rose Red by Bill Willingham

Growing restless during the final days before National Novel Writing Month, I sought a diversion. And I found it, or rather her, reposing in a literary fortress that overlooks the town in which I reside. For many months, I have gazed longingly at Rose Red, ever since her Fables compilation appeared on the New Release shelf at my public library.

Breaking the spell of procrastination, I seized Ms. Red from yon stacks and carried her to the Circulation Desk. “No, Mrs. Librarian,” I said coolly, “I don’t need a printed due date slip. Kindly demagnetize Rose Red and I will be on my way.” Once back in my lair, I set to removing layer after layer of her
engrossing back story.

Richly illustrated and finely lettered, Rose Red was as entertaining as any graphic novel I’ve ever read…and not merely because Fables is a sexy universe. The coloring and composition were enchanting, especially in proverbial locales like the forest at night. Yet more importantly, over the course of some 200+ pages, the story kept me on edge.

Alas, our weekend together was not perfect. Rose Red’s participation in the larger storyline proved anti-climactic. That doesn’t mean the story was weak or underdeveloped, just her portion of it. Red, who first appeared on the scene burnt out, soon got her act together. But then a different impossibly beautiful heroine took center stage for the grand duel with evil.

Again, I’m not complaining about the larger storyline. It was a fantastic mix of gritty contemporary motifs and traditional fairytale magic. In short, it was Fables at its best. But, as I contemplate releasing Ms. Red from my vile clutches to retake her rightful place in the library stacks, I do wish her creators had made her central to the story’s magical showdown. Nevertheless, if you’ve read and relished previous Fables installments, don’t miss this one.

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Humility: A Poem of the Cosmos

2011-10-29T10:49:00.000-07:00

Credits

This piece was built using Adobe Photoshop CS5. Obviously, it includes the same image as I use for my blog's banner (a shot of me taken by my friend Stef). The background image is of the "Black Eye Galaxy" M64. Image credit goes to NASA and The Hubble Heritage Team (AURA/STScI), with acknowledgments to S. Smartt (Institute of Astronomy) and D. Richstone (U. Michigan).

Yet, I would be remiss if I didn't also credit the makers of Star Wars: Empire Strikes Back. They first got me to fall in love with the sight of humbled humans staring off into a nearby galaxy. Lastly, the poem is my creation--inspired largely by reading Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson's excellent book Death by Black Hole: And Other Cosmic Quandaries.

A Childe's Novel Insecurities

2011-10-23T11:02:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, the quotes I'm about to share are for fun, though they reveal my artistic insecurity. I'm not trying to engineer a pity party. What follows is business as usual whenever I write creatively. I've taken these excerpts from the journal I'm keeping for National Novel Writing Month. Beneath them is a quick cellphone shot I took yesterday while treating myself to an afternoon walk in Waterloo Recreation Area.

From October 11, 2011:

One of my major insecurities to this point, albeit early point in the process, is that I worry I can’t turn this premise into a compelling story with action and suspense—that I can’t get it to rise above the sort of preachy blogging voice I and others often fall into in our writing. I want to write a story. I want it to be compelling. And I am aware that if the story is overly preachy and one-sided, it risks being distasteful via didactic overtones. I don’t want that. The tougher road, the worthy outcome, is to build a story that lets readers draw most of their own conclusions. It also needs to be multi-faceted and offer a compelling development of events. It can’t just be one guy sitting around waffling to himself...

From October 16, 2011:

Last night as I was at Zouzou’s Café listening to a friend’s duo perform, I had a strong bout of insecurity in relation to the direction of this novel. I start having thoughts about switching... . Oddly, when I think of switching to that, it’s almost like I feel that story, even more overtly autobiographical in theme and plot, would be safer. The quality of safeness is certainly no reason to embark on a major writing project. It ought not to be for the writer. So, I’m sticking with this one, admitting it’s not good enough in present form, has a certain amount of rehash from past stories I’ve written, and will need serious work and even research to get better. But having admitted that, I’m encouraging myself to see that as an attainable goal.

Mill Lake in Washtenaw County, Michigan

This photo makes me think of a fun line from the movie Wonder Boys. A best-selling author speaks of "the water's edge of inspiration" and the "far shore of accomplishment." It's a worthy enough metaphor. But it draws pretentious laughter from one of the film's main characters (who presumably regards it as pathetically quaint...not unlike this cell phone shot!)

A Preview of My Upcoming Novel

2011-10-15T11:41:00.000-07:00

Updated Synopsis - October 26, 2011

One December evening, Evan Morgan is struck with the most pessimistic thought a human can have. Plunged into mental darkness, he sets out on a night journey. Evan leaves behind fractured memories of a charmed past, his dubious association with Freemasonry, and a troubled bond with the daughter of his deceased mentor. He takes along a prized relic willed to him by his fallen brother—a failed scientific device nonetheless coveted by members of the local Masonic Lodge.

As he ventures toward an isolated volcanic landscape, Evan notes the suspicious reappearance of a stranger whom he first saw the night his forebodings began. Step by step, thought by thought, Evan draws inexorably closer to a life or death encounter. And facing a future seemingly devoid of hope, he seeks guidance from the angel Friend—an entity he has always been certain is just a figment of his imagination.

Working Synopsis of Retrograde, Wanderer - October 15, 2011

Evan ~~Lawrence~~ Morgan inadvertently has the most pessimistic thought a human can have. This realization, compounded by fallout from ill-fated associations, propels him onto a night journey. As the stars come out on an early winter evening, he ventures from the reality of his small-town existence toward an equally real volcanic landscape.

While grappling with the turmoil in his own mind, Evan notes the suspicious reappearance of a stranger travelling the same road. Step by step, thought by thought, Evan draws inexorably closer to a life or death encounter. Along the way he seeks assistance from the angel Friend—an entity he has always been certain is just a figment of his imagination.

Learn More About 'National Novel Writing Month'

Regarding Henry: I Plead the Fifth

2011-10-08T14:30:00.000-07:00

But First

Important Announcement

Childe Jake has signed on to participate in National Novel Writing Month 2011

Please get ready to root him on!

Now for a Light-hearted Review

Henry V by William Shakespeare
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Thanks to Kenneth Branagh, this Henry history play was the cool Shakespeare movie when I was in high school. Eat your heart out Franco Zeffirelli. Mr. Branagh acted and directed his butt off. There were lots of arrows flying between England and France. The French were portrayed as snobs, a testament to the Bard’s high research standards. The original score was majestic. Did I mention the cool arrows?

Honestly, I’m still not sure why England and France were fighting—something about tennis balls being very tacky gifts. So I make it a rule never to invite a British person to play tennis if he is holding a longbow. Oh, yeah, and having now also seen a good stage production, I find myself not the least bit bothered that a whole section of the play is done in French. It involves Henry’s bride-to-be chatting it up with a girlfriend, I think. At any rate, the deep symbolism for me in that scene is that whenever I find myself surrounded by chatting women, I can’t follow what they’re saying. But if I pay attention to their mood, things generally turn out okay.

Anyhoooo, having read it and seen it on stage and screen, Henry V remains for me a cool, exciting Shakespeare play. I had to dock a star because I made the mistake of attending college and becoming a critical thinker. So now the war sections don’t have the same pizzazz that they did in high school. And I’ve also realized that the love story has no pizzazz. “Hi, lovely French lady. I’m Henry. I killed more of your relatives than your country killed of my relatives. I love your eyes. Let’s consummate.” Yup, pretty sure that’s the final act in a nutshell.

Bottom line: Whatever literary gripes may exist about this play, the St. Crispin’s Day speech is rightfully one of the greatest moments in all of dramatic literature. Don’t miss this Shakespearean history play.

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The Rocket in Congress' Pocket

2011-10-01T12:33:00.000-07:00

But First

It occurs to me that I haven't forced a Kate Beckinsale reference into my blog recently. My sincere apologies.

A Long Time Ago, in a Committee Far, Far Away...

Shortly after getting elected, President Obama came up with a plan for space exploration that sounded decidedly Republican: a free-market competition to drive down costs and spur innovation. But then the U.S. Congress, including some Republican members, fired back with ideas that looked decidedly Democratic: a big-government Apollo Program redux...or should I say reflux?

Here is the result, potentially the most powerful rocket ever to grace a government blueprint. It is called Space Launch System. (The Childe chuckles to himself, wondering if we've finally run out of sexy names from antiquity.) SLS hasn't been built yet, and won't for several years, hence the artist rendering:

Image Credit: NASA

For readers who are not well-versed in NASA politics, the appropriate response to the above image is this:

Oh my! The Saturn V rocket knocked up the Space Shuttle and they've had a love child!

Here is the more astute response:

So this is what happens when Congress (comprised of folks who aren't rocket scientists) tells NASA (comprised of folks who are rocket scientists) exactly what kind of rocket it is allowed to build (a behemoth machine favoring existing contracts, materials and the constituents of currently elected officials).

Sincerely, I think the above image is a tribute to NASA brilliance. Despite having to cope with a government that underfunds--in part because it was elected by a citizenry that is increasingly undereducated--NASA still achieves compelling and cool results. So I remain a fan...of NASA.

The Private Sector Gears Up

Now here is a great video detailing a private sector design: the Falcon Heavy from SpaceX. It is also being billed as the "most powerful." What I care about for now is that, more and more, the world doesn't have to rely on the U.S. Congress to fund worthy endeavors. The bottom line is that if either of these rockets makes it into orbit, we all win.

My refrain for the coming year will be, "Some taxes are worth paying."

My Lightfooted Quest for Cooler Status

2011-09-24T11:16:00.000-07:00

So I checked with a friend in California. Unfortunately, having attended the Gordon Lightfoot concert this past Wednesday does not make me cooler. This is a regrettable setback for my lackluster concert-going career.

By way of background, my quest to become cool by attending concerts began in high school. Trusted buddies Mike and Jeremy invited me to join them at a Harry...excuse me, an Harry Connick Jr. concert at Wolf Trap in Virginia. The show was awesome and I thought for sure I was on my way to being cool.

Sadly, I failed to follow up with more trips to Wolf Trap or other prestigious venues. Once in college I fell into a pop-culture dry spell that lasted several years. Though I attended a slew of Utah Symphony concerts--including all three performances of Gershwin's 'Piano Concerto in F' conducted by Maestro Keith Lockhart--my coolness quotient failed to rise substantially.

Seeing that I was struggling to become a hip music aficionado, my grandma asked me to drive her to a Neil Diamond concert. This was it! Finally, in my mid-twenties, I was on my way to coolness. But the magic didn't last. I soon graduated college and made the fateful decision to accept low-paying work in a field that I give a damn about. Money for concert tickets dried up.

Then Lady Luck made an appearance early last week. Michigan Radio--in the tradition of my grandma--provided this Childe another chance to become a hip concertgoer. The station drew my name at random to attend An Evening with Gordon Lightfoot at Ann Arbor's Michigan Theatre. Frankly, I fail to see how this makes me less than awesome. Not only did I win something, I have joined the ranks of devoted Lightfoot fans, their fathers, and their fathers before them. What's not cool about that?

Seriously though, despite a voice that isn't what it used to be, Mr. Lightfoot and his excellent band put smiles on lots of faces by revisiting the oldies and most-definitely goodies from his storied career. And when he sang one of my favorites, 'If You Could Read My Mind,' I thought to myself, "How cool that I get to hear this song live!"

Alan Arnette and a Seven Summits Update

2011-09-16T10:07:00.000-07:00

Alan Arnette continues his climb of the Seven Summits to raise support for Alzheimer's Research. Having successfully tagged the summit of Mt. Everest, amongst others, he is now climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro in Africa. Here is one of Alan's posts, from just a few days ago, as he began his ascent of the fabled volcano.

Higher on Kilimanjaro

Vicky Jack's Seven Summit Adventure

The Sky's the Limit: Vicky Jack and Her Quest to Climb the Seven Summits by Vicky Jack
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Over the past year I’ve followed climber Alan Arnette as he seeks to reach the highest summit on each continent--the aptly named “Seven Summits.” (Arnette is doing it to raise support for Alzheimer’s research.) In addition to following his blog, I decided to seek out a book about previous climbers who’ve attempted this feat. My local bookstore happened to have The Sky’s the Limit: The Story of Vicky Jack and Her Quest to Climb the Seven Summits.

More than any other climbing book I’ve read, this retelling of Ms. Jack’s adventure gets a light and life-affirming treatment. This book is highly congratulatory and inspirational, in contrast to other climbing tomes that focus on controversy. For a few chapters, I even worried this book would prove too watered down to be compelling.

In particular, the chapter on climbing Mount Kilimanjaro almost reads like a day trip—and climbing that African summit is no small achievement. So my one literary criticism would be that author Anna Magnusson doesn’t appear to have dug especially deep. However, like the heroine of the story, The Sky’s the Limit won me over. In fact, I read the whole thing in one marathon Saturday session.

As the book progresses, and as Ms. Jack’s climbs grow increasingly risky, the narrative likewise deepens and intensifies. This may not be an exhaustively researched biography, but neither is it skin-deep or forgettable. It is personable and engaging in ways that other climbing books sometimes lack. Plus, it’s quite fun to read. I relished the chance to unabashedly root for someone fulfilling her dream.

I would place The Sky’s the Limit alongside Touching My Father’s Soul, as a book that treats an almost mythical quest in a remarkably personal and life-affirming way. There are doubtless more prestigious accounts of climbing the Seven Summits available. But this book caters especially well to readers like me who aren’t mountain climbers. In particular, if you are looking for an adventure book with a worthy female role-model, The Sky’s the Limit is well worth seeking out.

View all my reviews

My Cosmos Clearinghouse for September 2011

2011-09-10T13:50:00.000-07:00

ISS View of Hurricane Irene

August 22, 2011 image of Irene from the ISS - Photo Credit: NASA

For all the hubbub generated by a perennially dissatisfied citizenry--over whether the government has done too much or not enough--this photo reminds me of how the great labor of scientists and engineers has made hurricanes a remarkably manageable natural disaster. Asteroids and comets may one day hold that distinction as well, if we ever attain the vision and dedication needed to harness resources we already possess.

Now for my Review of a Damn Good Biography

Light This Candle: The Life & Times of Alan Shepard--America's First Spaceman by Neal Thompson

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Light This Candle is a biography that adopts the swagger of its subject: Alan Shephard. Mixing new interviews with material from earlier records, author Neal Thompson delivers a book that proceeds at a steady, confident clip. As such, Light This Candle achieves a gut-level intensity that seems appropriate given the ambitious man it depicts.

At times, this book feels like a piecemeal eulogy. While the bulk of the narrative recounts Shephard’s storied career, chapters dealing with his youth and post-flight years have a summary quality. Even accounts of memorable flights have a no-frills aspect. And this is generally to the author’s credit. It could be tempting to weigh down descriptions of aerial adventure with extravagant prose. However, Thompson wisely takes a no-nonsense approach to rehearsing Shepard’s past.

Light This Candle falls short of feeling revelatory. But this appraisal is not meant as harsh criticism. As the author remarks, Shephard vigilantly maintained privacy in spite of his fame. Like the many who brushed shoulders with the first American in space, Thompson doesn’t gain full-access to Shephard’s personal life. Readers may even be left with the impression that no one, not even Shephard’s beloved wife Louise, was privy to the real story.

Ultimately, Light This Candle is about taking stock of a man who competed and won often. Shephard’s exploits in and out of the cockpit dominate the pages, as they should. In a broader context, Light This Candle is a worthy tome about the American test pilot. It proves a lively read that can stand shoulder to shoulder with other notable books and films about Shepard and his fellow explorers.

View all my reviews

Best of Facebook Status Updates: Volume 4

2011-09-03T08:20:00.000-07:00

I enjoy how--anywhere I've lived--the locals think they coined the phrase, 'Don't like the weather? Wait five minutes. It'll change.'
Having a specific--especially a mystical--muse, seems kinda hokey. It strikes me as an elegant way of admitting you hope your artwork gets you laid.
We got trouble!...Right here in Chelsea City!...With a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for pissed-off pretentious pooches barkin' at people walkin' on the other frickin' side of the street.
Important Kitchen Tip: It's a good idea to keep a backup set of twisty ties. You may never need them. But if the twisty tie you just barely removed from a loaf of bread disappears into an alternate universe, you'll be prepared.
7 or 8 finches out on my front step just engaged in what to my ears sounded like a terribly heated argument. I suspect it was about the debt ceiling.
I find that when a squirrel is having an existential crisis, it's best to just give him a few minutes and some space to work through it.
NPR's Scott Simon just favorited one my tweets. YEAH!!

Lunchtime Mission: Okay folks, this photo I took is scoring in the Top 10 search results for 'startled squirrel'. I want to reach the Top 3. Help me out. Please do a Google Image Search for "startled squirrel' and click on this image when you see it. This is why I got into writing. Thanks.

Thanks to everyone who has taken the time and clicked the links to help my blog reach 3,000 page views

A Childe's Farewell to Borders

2011-08-27T11:35:00.000-07:00

This week I guest-blogged over at Wheat and Tares, my second gig for them. The post recounts my final visit to a favorite store. I hope you'll visit, read, and leave a comment if you feel inclined. Thank you for stopping by.

Happy waning days of summer to each of you!

Pilgrimage Vignette

2011-08-21T05:00:00.000-07:00

The above vignette utilizes NASA/JPL images taken by the Galileo Orbiter in 1997, the primary image being of Jupiter's moon Europa. On that I overlaid a swatch of blue taken from a false color Galileo image credited to NASA/JPL/University of Arizona. The rest of this piece is original. It was generated using Adobe Photoshop CS5.

--Jake Christensen

Oh Redford, My Redford

2011-08-14T11:44:00.000-07:00

Robert Redford by Michael Feeney Callan
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

By way of confession, I approached Robert Redford the biography in an attitude of hero worship. Since childhood, I have unquestionably regarded him as an iconic American actor. The first time I watched he and Paul Newman go into haunting freeze frame at the end of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is etched in my mind. My parents used The Natural as a practical tool for schooling me in allegory. While a college student in Utah, I felt the Redford mystique grow during regular trips into Salt Lake City to watch indie films, including a Sundance Film Festival screening.

Robert Redford the book provided big discoveries for me. Author Michael Feeney Callan spent years drumming up over 300 interviews in addition to many sessions with Redford. He also gained access to notebooks, journals and other original research. Initially the book was mesmerizing. Redford’s roots seamlessly interwove with 20th Century American history.

After about 100 pages, my reading slowed. The book became less fun--not less worthwhile--just less recreational. It turns out Redford isn’t much like what I assumed. His silver screen gravitas belies the reality of an often erratic and stubborn personality. In fact, I found the early Redford to be arrogant and annoying. Still, whether deflating or ingratiating, Callan’s study effectively peeled back the glossy Hollywood veneer. I came to see Redford and his colleagues as real people engaged in risky creative endeavors.

As a work of serious biography, Robert Redford has a couple of weak points. At times Callan’s narrative feels soupy and convoluted. Some passages combine a dizzying list of names and minutia with an 'Oh by the way' quality, leaving me unsure of their particular significance. On a related note, the passage of years is not always apparent. At times I felt disoriented as some major developments were mentioned off the cuff. The variable pace of Redford’s career was difficult to track.

In fairness, some of these criticisms probably boil down to the challenge of delivering a cohesive account of a disjunctive professional life. From the days of his “breakthrough” performance as the Sundance Kid, Redford’s acting career took on a Sugar Ray Leonard quality. He has seemed ever on the verge of retiring or staging a comeback.

Ultimately, I have great admiration for Callan’s stalwartness as a biographer. This is no slapdash expose. And if Robert Redford the book is sometimes a rough read, it is in large part because Redford the man is hard to read. About two-thirds of the way through I sent an e-mail to my Mom saying how much I was enjoying the book, even as it chopped Redford down to eye-level. I summed up my newly seasoned appreciation for him this way: "Oddly, I respect him just a bit less but identify with him a great deal more."

Viewing Recommendation: Obviously a reading of this biography benefits from having seen Redford’s major films. I strongly suggest watching both Jeremiah Johnson and Downhill Racer before or while reading this book. These films are often revisited by both Callan and Redford as major touchstones in “Bob’s” artistic development.

View all my reviews

'Little Green Men' Sports Pinball Wizardry

2011-08-06T08:58:00.000-07:00

Little Green Men: It's A Big World after All by Jay P. Fosgitt
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

First off, this compilation contains the adventures of three finger-sized aliens trying to conquer Earth. There is simply no way for this premise to be less than amusing. Unless you are a complete sourpuss, Little Green Men comics do not allow for utter disappointment. That said, when delivered through the mind and pen of artist Jay P. Fosgitt, this story becomes rich entertainment for readers of all ages.

My reading of this compilation was skewed toward the nostalgic because of the context in which I got my copy. A few months ago, I preordered it online from Borders and requested in-store pickup. In a poignant coincidence, my copy arrived in the store on the same day Borders began its going-out-of-business sale. Little Green Men: It’s a Big World After All is the last new release I will ever buy from what was my favorite bookstore.

Needful to say, I was in the market for light humor and goofy action, especially action suffused with a charming affection for pop-culture. Happily, Mr. Fosgitt delivered again. He is now three for three with me as a reader. After plopping down in my reading chair, I was treated to a plot that seamlessly mixes slapstick-laden sci-fi, precision parody and cotton candy-flavored Americana. Fosgitt’s Little Green Men is entertainment for folks who love banana splits.

For me there was a particularly magical moment late in the book. One of the aliens sneaks off alone. He rockets through the mail slot of an arcade with the firm intent of going one-on-one with a pinball machine. Keep in mind he’s three inches tall. What follows is a scene of wonderful hijinks and physical comedy. However, it’s the buildup I want to praise. I loved the vitality Fosgitt achieved via a low-angle image of the little fellow striding boldly towards his nemesis. For me it held all the magic of an early Spielberg film--a pure, even tender reminder that I am still in love with my childhood, and so too is Fosgitt.

Bottom line: Little Green Men is extremely fun. I highly recommend it to all carbon-based life forms. To try the series out for free, stop by Apecmx.com.

My Other Fosgitt Reviews:

View all my reviews

A 'Martian Summer' For the Books

2011-08-01T15:18:00.000-07:00

Martian Summer: Robot Arms, Cowboy Spacemen, and My 90 Days with the Phoenix Mars Mission by Andrew Kessler
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

For me, there is a sentimental connection to the Phoenix Mars Mission. Along with many others, my name is preserved in a special data disc mounted on the outside of the lander. Phoenix now rests silent on the surface of the red planet. The disc awaits recovery by future Martian explorers.

Martian Summer focuses as much on human drama as it does on science. Many personal stories lie behind the mission, which rocketed a robotic lander all the way to Mars’s polar landscape. To his credit, author Andrew Kessler constantly shines the spotlight on several mission MVPs. Still it’s fair to say the heart of this book is Kessler’s personal quest to access the protected environment of mission control. Consider this profound moment:

“I ended up squished in the back of some half-crazed Hollywood producer’s Mustang with a pile of scientists on my lap.”

Okay, so trying to embed yourself in a space mission can sometimes be a comedy of errors. It’s no exaggeration to say I laughed out loud many times while reading Martian Summer. It is loaded with entertaining gems like the one above. Kessler, who begins the book as an outsider, rightly compares the culture of mission control to the hit sitcom The Office. So if you enjoy that sitcom, there is a good chance you’d enjoy following a NASA mission.

It helps immensely that Kessler is a gifted writer. To keep the intricate story readable, he makes some great choices. He keeps the prose light whenever possible (which is often). He provides needed context without letting the narrative grind to a halt--even as the mission itself progresses in fits and starts. Plus, Kessler always stays close to one or two human subplots. Though a few technical passages went over my head, I never felt lost while reading Martian Summer.

The joy of lively prose notwithstanding, there was a point in this book when I grew disheartened. Not coincidentally, so did Kessler and mission personnel. There were incessant technical glitches, losses of vital image data and distracting intrusions by politically-minded higher-ups. Personally, I started wondering if space exploration is just too challenging for humans. But as I kept reading, I remembered the following line Kessler wrote earlier in the book:

“If I can find the beauty in moving bits across space, there’s hope for me.”

Here on Earth we enjoy, even depend on, an information superhighway. As this book shows, the data route between Earth and Mars is more of a hazardous byway. Yet through cooperation and persistence, the Phoenix mission team traversed the void many times over one summer. Discovery resulted when the data came home safely. And via Martian Summer, a similar gap has been bridged between elite scientists and lay enthusiasts.

View all my reviews

Visit My YouTube Hovel...er Channel

2011-07-26T15:15:00.000-07:00

Childe Jake's Pilgrimage Now Sharing Video

I've set up a YouTube channel, linked above. Not unlike my periodic "Cosmos Clearinghouse" posts, it is a gateway to content I've encountered, enjoyed, and find enlivening. As of yet, it does not include videos of my own making (Your welcome). Upon arriving, you'll be treated to the following playlists:

My Cosmos Clearinghouse
Featured On My Blog
deGrasse Tyson (Meet one of my favorite scientists)
Fresh Hell (A hilariously self-deprecating web series by actor Brent Spiner)
Potter's Field (A local duo including my friend Rochelle. They specialize in "Creepicana.")

I hope you'll stop by. If you do, consider leaving a comment letting me know you visited. Below is a sampling of what you will find. It also demonstrates the musical style "Creepicana." Happy summer to you!

My Farewell to Our Space Shuttle Program

2011-07-21T09:40:00.000-07:00

Original Photo's Credit: NASA

The above photo, prior to me adding a caption and frame in Photoshop, was taken from the space shuttle Atlantis on July, 19th, 2011 after undocking from the International Space Station for the final time.

Cultural Hash from a Childe's Mind

2011-07-17T12:21:00.000-07:00

The Shot Heard ‘Round My Ears

The images continue to jar my mind. A couple days ago I experienced the ‘unthinkable’. Police cars surrounded a beautiful suburban home. There were hostages inside. Guns were drawn. And I had been asked to serve as negotiator. In hindsight, I should have hesitated. I’m not trained for this sort of thing.

Nevertheless, with a police officer escorting me, I began walking across the lawn toward the front door. As we passed in front of a bay window, the sound of gunshots and shattering glass rushed into my ears at over 600 mph. I jerked my head to the right to see who was firing. Through the breaking window, the assailant’s shimmering blond hair, glistening blue eyes and glossy skin made her identity unmistakable. I was being shot at by Suzanne Somers.

Of Celebrity-based Dreams

Okay, so I was dreaming. The scene I am describing took place in my mind. Still, this is not the first time I’ve dreamed of being assailed by celebrities. Old-timers who remember MySpace might have read a status update that went something like this:

“Last night I dreamed that Kevin Bacon wanted to beat me up.”

Multiple times, in a single slumber, Mr. Bacon burst into my dreams threatening to pummel me. Brandishing only fists and sheer gravitas, he caused fear that bordered on nightmare levels. And he kept coming back, always briefly, like his cameo in Planes, Trains and Automobiles.

Now About Ms. Somers and the Glock

Oddly, I felt no fear as Suzanne emptied half a clip in my direction. Coolly, I drew a Beretta. Then I dashed for the front door while returning fire. Suzanne dropped to the floor. I hadn’t hit her, but she knew I was a ~~lethal wea~~ threat. And this is significant. In most dreams where I handle guns, they misfire. It’s a chronic problem for me in REM sleep. Yet, in this dream my pistol fired to great effect. (Shut up, Freud.)

Tragically, I think Suzanne took down the officer who’d been at my side. He didn’t make it to the front door. For the remainder of this kill-or-be-killed dream, the only two players were Suzanne and me. And there would be no retreat or surrender.

Help Me Robert Redford, You’re My Only Hope

What it is the deal with celebrities appearing in my dreams? To be candid, I wish the dreams were more sexual. We usually just wind up commiserating like weary insomniacs in a Denny’s at 3 AM. The encounters are so…whatevah. Not anticlimactic, mind you, just disappointingly matter-of-fact. Sometimes they are even embarrassing.

Take that night I dreamed of meeting Jeff Bridges. Out of the blue, he appeared next to me. A bit Starman-struck, I sheepishly said, “Did you have fun making the Tron sequel?” With gruff annoyance he shot back, “Well, obviously it didn’t turn out too well!” It made me wish I could be back in that sublime dream where Robert Redford visited my bedroom...

Anyway, I admit all that to say it was even more shocking to be trading bullets with Suzanne Somers. The dream was unprovoked and without real-world context. I’m not a fan of Ms. Somers, but neither do I dislike her. Plus, I have no recent memory of seeing her on any programs I watch. Yet here I was storming the home she was held up in like the Sundance Kid...but with mastered thighs.

As I burst through the door, Suzanne dove into a bedroom. She tried to shut the door, but I forced it open. Now trapped and separated from her prized hostages, she crouched down between the door and the wall. No words were spoken. We both still had a few rounds left. And though I hope readers are finding this a bit humorous, at the time I didn’t find it funny at all. I believed it was real. Perhaps two feet apart and separated only by a thin door, Suzanne Somers and I were about to kill each other.

About That Robert Redford Reference

While attending Weber State University in Utah, I attended a screening at the Sundance Film Festival. The movie I saw did not star Robert Redford, neither did he attend the screening. After the post-viewing Q and A, I drove to my grandma’s house where I was staying at the time. Soon I fell into a contented sleep in the back bedroom.

At some indistinguishable point between waking and sleep, I looked up to see Robert Redford walking into the bedroom. Like all trusted visitors, he had entered my grandma’s house through the backdoor. Apparently, someone had notified him of my attendance at his prestigious film festival and he decided to follow up. Quite nonchalantly, Mr. Redford sat down on the foot of the bed and warmly asked, “Do you have any questions?” Then, with the same starry-eyed dumbness I presented to Jeff Bridges, I asked Mr. Redford a mundane question about the cinematography in The Natural. Like so many of my celebrity dreams, it quickly fizzled into nothingness.

Last Man Standing

After a heartbeat Suzanne Somers emptied her mag, and I sent several rounds through the door at her. Somehow I didn’t get hit. And I don’t know if I took down Suzanne. The dream abruptly ended. But I can tell you that at such close range, gripping powerful handguns, for both of us to miss would have been a Pulp Fiction miracle.

Epilogue

The more I think about this dream, the less funny I find it. What humor there is largely dissipates when one considers I had this dream only days after a horrific real-life shooting in Grand Rapids. The dream itself I find absurd, especially my Lethal Weapon-esque performance in it. But the question of why I had it at all gives me pause. No conclusions. Just a reason to wonder.

Lastly, should this post ever actually find its way to Suzanne Somers, I can only say that I don’t know you personally. To the limited extent I have observed you through media, you seem talented and hard-working. I wish you continued happiness and fulfillment in life and in dreams--provided you refrain from taking hostages. Honestly, I don’t know why my brain slung such hash at your expense.

My Cosmos Clearing House for STS-135

2011-07-09T09:10:00.000-07:00

What is STS-135? Look Down and Dream Up

My brilliant plan was to do a post showcasing dramatic images from the Cassini Solstice Mission taking place at this very moment above Saturn. But...

A few moments ago I read a wonderful post by a fellow blogger. If you are one of those folks who gives my blog the time of day, I thank you. But this week, I ask you to spend a couple of minutes reading the following piece instead:

An Eye Witness Perspective from Blogger Pillownaut

It is my favorite type of blog post--personal, straightforward and well-written. If you enjoy it as I did, I hope you will pay Pillownaut the compliment of posting a comment.

Now for my favorite image of STS-135...so far!


Shuttle Atlantis as seen from a NASA training aircraft -- CREDIT: NASA/Dick Clark

Spring Images of Washtenaw County Michigan

2011-07-02T05:00:00.000-07:00

An Oak Tree Near Dexter, Michigan

I shot this at my supervisor's request earlier this Spring. She wanted a nice picture of this particular tree using the company's new Nikon D7000, and she wanted it before the leaves arrived. I did a bit of touch up in Photoshop to bring out the clouds and hide a utility box.

Below is how the same tree would appear in a bad Highlander sequel (which is to say...a Highlander sequel). I wish I could say this abstract version was a technical feat, but I was just experimenting with Tone Curves in Adobe's Camera Raw. What are Tone Curves? As the picture makes clear, you should ask someone other than me.

Here is the same scene touched up with the Patch Tool in Photoshop. Bye-bye to all evidence that there are parking lots and vehicles nearby.

'A Bird of Free and Careless Wing...'

The above words are Lord Byron's and reference a bird of spring. The stanza I took them from is kind of a downer, so I won't quote the whole thing. In any case, here is one of many finches that abide in Washtenaw County--seen through the blinds of my office window. It made several concerted attempts to get through the window before settling down and saying cheese. This photo was taken with an older Nikon Coolpix 2500. For me this image, like the ones above, was really about introducing myself to serious cameras and software.

O'Brien's Novel Take on a Childe's Life

2011-06-25T10:25:00.000-07:00

Byron in Love by Edna O'Brien
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Edna O’Brien’s writing style perplexes me. I remember being mystified by it when I read her excellent novel House of Splendid Isolation. I felt this disconnect again while reading Byron in Love. I was impressed with the tightness of the plot and the lack of excess in her prose. The trade off is I tended to feel a bit detached and unemotional while reading this book. At times, Ms. O’Brien’s poise and restraint as a novelist unduly bridled the sauciness of Byron’s story.

When I read Ms. O’Brien, I feel like I’m staring in through a mildly warped window at the characters. The scene appears slightly blurred and the sounds are a bit muffled. It is like O’Brien has me off to the side, watching from a discreet distance--as one might do when witnessing a couple argue in public. It’s a compelling style, but not the one I would pick for a biography of Lord Byron--especially one that is delivered like a novel. Yet I still feel this is a great book.

O’Brien’s unvarnished recounting of Byron’s scandals, as well as his chauvinism, challenged me (though I retain my affinity for him). I don’t believe one can take a serious look at Byron without acknowledging his great failures as a father and husband. But it also makes me consider one of the callous byproducts of traditional marriage culture. No child should ever be termed “illegitimate”, even when born out of wedlock to irresponsible parents.

This book also reminded me--as any objective biography of Byron should--of the rampant and abrasive hypocrisy that emanates from intensely heterosexual cultures. Byron could have been subjected to the death penalty for his homosexual liaisons. But when he engaged in heterosexual adultery, he was just fitting in. Ms. O’Brien brings this harsh double standard into sharp relief.

My chief complaint with this book is grammatical. O’Brien’s abrupt shifts between present and past tense annoyed me. Given her abilities and authorial maturity, I have to think the shifts were deliberate. I just found them acutely distracting. Other than that, I don’t have anything much to fault, except my lingering sense of disconnectedness with Byron in Love.

I’ll sum it up with an analogy. I love the musical Les Miserables. I also love composer/lyricist Stephen Sondheim. But even on his best day, providing his finest work, I cannot imagine Mr. Sondheim musicalizing Les Miz to my satisfaction. There is simply an incongruity between his style and the way my heart yearns to experience that story. This also sums up why I didn’t fall head over heels for Ms. O’Brien’s take on Byron, though I found the book excellent. In any case, I feel the definitive portrayal of Byron was written long ago, though its main character is a childe called Harold.

View all my reviews on Goodreads

Spring into Waterloo Recreation Area

2011-06-18T11:22:00.000-07:00

But First A Squirrel in Peril, aka Merkel Furniture

Yeah, I know this is a picture of a chipmunk. But Dictionary.com confirms that chipmunks are squirrels (albeit with Napoleon complexes). I nabbed a photo of this little fellow after he invaded Merkel Furniture in downtown Chelsea, MI. I felt bad for the critter. I can only assume store owners are not forgiving toward life forms that pee on the showroom floor (even if they are doing so out of primal fear).

Cinnamon Fern on the Bog Trail

I'm not sure why these are called "cinnamon" fern, though I am aware that a neighboring member of the class Filicinae has dibs on "Royal Fern." At any rate, the above is an early spring shot of said fern impersonating Childe Jake as he appeared in junior high school. Below is an image of the same cinnamon fern on a subsequent visit--this time it's impersonating Jake after he scored a lead role in his high school's spring musical.

My Favorite Overlook on the Waterloo-Pinckney Trail

If I'm mistaken, Crooked Lake is named after the hedge funds that its lakefront property owners made their money in. It is a gorgeous portion of Ice Age leftovers, even when one finds himself coveting the palatial homes along the shore. This view is from the Hickory Hills Trail--one of several trails originating at the Gerald Eddy Discovery Center in the Waterloo Recreation Area.

A Childe Battles with the Beast

2011-06-11T11:37:00.000-07:00

Episode 3 in the Quest to Become a Transparent Eyeball

In a previous post I spoke of my quest to become one with Nature. I resolved to achieve this goal by using the method of the great Ralph Waldo Emerson. He spoke of transcendence as becoming "a transparent eyeball." Twice before, I have sought to reach this epiphanic state and failed. Then, a few evenings past, while sitting on my porch I made a third attempt.

Thus reposed, I began reading from the letters of Lord Byron. All of a sudden, I was confronted by a beast of the field.

This beast, having thoroughly upset my meditation, shied at a given finger. I supposed him prepared to yield. And having made explicit my wish that he depart, I returned to perusing the personal letters of Romanticism's Poet Laureate. Soon I felt myself caught up in the majesty of reflection. Around me, adolescent leaves rustled playfully in the breeze that blows eastward from yon Waterloo.

But what to my surprise, the beast tarried in my path. He hunkered down between me and the goddess of Surcease (known to the ancient Latins as 'Supersessus'). And so I strove to block the foe's advance.

Here upon these stones, I steeled myself against the opposition Nature had set before me. Again, my eyes roamed Lord Byron's letters as he detailed the wiles of seduction and abandonment. Oh great Childe of my heart's library!--great were thy conquests, yet great thy follies also.

(On a side note, what manner of dude becomes pen-pals with the aunt of his most jaded booty call? Woe is him.)

But what to my further surprise...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

"Once more through all he bursts his thundering way--"
--Lord Byron, 18-something A.D.

"Can it be?" I thought to myself. "Am I being charged by a beetle? Surely he has lost his tiny mind. No sensible beetle would rush a 6'2" man holding a hardbound book. Unless...this beast cannot see me. Yes, it must be. I have become a transparent eyeball!"

In my transcendent state, I noted the sheen of the beetle's carapace. Filled with the benevolence Emerson must of have known while floating transparent in the woods, I relented. The beetle passed by my size 13 feet, unflappable to the last. Only then did I realize his true intent--and my folly

"'tis past--he sinks upon the sand!"
--Lord Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto 1: ln. 782

I looked on while the little fellow burrowed through a craggy egress in the concrete step. My world came into focus. Heed these words, good reader. When you find yourself being disregarded by one of Nature's creatures, do not assume you have become a transparent eyeball. You might have. Or you could just be standing, arrogant and foolhardy, between a beetle and his home. What an asshole ...me that is.

No natural beings were harmed in the making of this blog post.

How My Transparent Eyeball Quest Began

Read Episode 1 Here

Norman Mailer's Gospel as Fan Fiction

2011-06-05T05:00:00.000-07:00

**Fair Warning: This Review Contains Spoilers**

The Gospel According to the Son: A Novel by Norman Mailer
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Twice I was fortunate enough to hear Norman Mailer speak in person. He was the keynote speaker at the National Undergraduate Literature Conference at Weber State University, my alma mater. As Mr. Mailer spoke to our gathering, he mentioned The Gospel According to the Son. Why did he write it? As he put it, quite cockily, he’d read the New Testament gospels and felt that he could write the story better.

To be clear, he was speaking of the Gospels in literary terms, not theological. Simply put, Mailer felt the story of Jesus deserved to be told as a first-rate novel, and he felt confident he was the writer to do it. Not long after his remarks, I purchased a copy. But, as with many books I buy on impulse, I didn’t get around to reading it for several years.

The Gospel According to the Son was not what I expected, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. I figured Mailer would construct his gospel along skeptical and profane lines. Not so. Skepticism is woven into this novel, but in a masterfully nuanced way. There is some of the profane, but it is surprisingly restrained. Mailer’s Jesus is devoutly celibate--a vulnerable human, open-minded and prone to passionate emotions. Yet he is also admirably righteous.

Now here is the spoiler: Mailer depicts Jesus as truly being the Son of God. There are plenty of points left open for interpretation in this book, but the question of Jesus’s divine status is not left in doubt. Mailer’s Jesus is the Christ.

As the story progresses, it becomes evident that Jesus really has visions and healing power. The author debunks some miracles, but not the biggest ones. Mailer’s Jesus, speaking in hindsight from the right hand of God, shows how the Biblical gospels are tailored for maximum persuasion and are rife with exaggeration. Yet still, Mailer’s Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead and contends bravely with a real Satan.

Mailer succeeds in crafting a better narrative than the gospel writers. He converts their choppy and sometimes conflicting accounts into a single fluid and carefully paced narrative. There is a meticulously constructed conflict with the Pharisees. It feeds into the political tension between Jews and Romans, which Mailer renders adeptly without diverging into sprawling historical commentary about who really supplied the nails. And this lean, crisp plotline drives ever purposefully from manger to cross.

Mailer’s Jesus is multi-faceted, given to inner conflict and impulsiveness. He doesn’t have a perfect knowledge of his mission. In fact, much of the skepticism in the novel comes from the Son. Though poignant and engrossing relationships develop with John the Baptist, Peter and others, the arc of Jesus’s character explores the troubled and tenuous bond between Father and Son.

I do recommend The Gospel According to the Son, though as I’ve said it was not what I expected. Mailer proves quite content to err on the side of tradition by mostly honoring the spiritual outline set forth in the New Testament. As such, this is a surprisingly devotional work, rich with the same inspirational musing found in scripture, albeit delivered in an edgier manner.

By the end, I felt like I was reading an elaborate piece of fan fiction. It’s just that this particular Jesus fan was a two-time Pulitzer winner and not a devout Christian (I safely assume). I can even imagine Mailer typing the last chapter, looking over at a copy of the Bible and smirking, then saying aloud, “Father, forgive me. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

View all my reviews

My Cosmos Clearinghouse for May

2011-05-29T05:00:00.000-07:00

Another Great Night Shot from the ISS

Photo Credit: NASA

An ISS photo I posted back in January revealed the veiny sprawl of urban culture in Florida. In a similar vein (Ha!), the above photo strikingly depicts human dependence on water. In this case, we are looking at how Egyptian society clings to the Nile River. And though I'm guessing at the exact locale, it also appears that one heck of a house party was taking place up on Cyprus when this photo was taken.

An Exciting New Asteroid Sample Return Mission

Image Credit: NASA/Goddard/University of Arizona

A while back I did a post speculating on which proposed mission would be NASA's next Cosmic Idol champ. The winner is OSIRIS-REx. If you really want to slog through the translation of that acronym, you can read my previous post. Expected to launch in 2016 (pending the continued functionality of Congress's tiny fiscal balls), OSIRIS-REx will fly to a nearby asteroid and scoop up samples. After literally dropping the samples off in Utah, OSIRIS-REx will continue on for more cosmic groping. Also, the Planetary Society will be playing a direct role in publicizing the mission. Click here for the details.

Apology

My apologies for the parenthetical testes joke above. (The parentheses were uncalled for.) The joke came to me as I was typing and I lack the couthiness to delete it. Besides, I'm too busy grinning because I just noticed how this post has taken on a nifty Egyptian theme. But now I'm feeling sheepish for not realizing that earlier in the writing process.

A Childe Can Dream

While checking my links for this post, I was invited to take a web survey at www.nasa.gov. My one suggestion was that they hire Kate Beckinsale as a spokeswoman for new science missions. Not sure that one is gonna make it up the ladder to NASA Administrator Charles Bolden, but y'know, nothing ventured...

Best of Facebook Status Updates: Volume 3

2011-05-22T05:00:00.000-07:00

For the Enjoyment of Those Left Behind

SCOPING UPDATE: From my seat here in the library I notice this gal about ten yards away. She appears to be made almost entirely of scarf and parka. Her hair is pulled up, little or no make-up, just cheeks made rosy from the chilly breeze outside. Nothing in her appearance says pretense or show. And she is leafing intently through a "Fables" graphic novel. Damn that is sexy.
It happened to me again. After a night of fretting and worrying, I woke up this morning in combat boots, green fatigues, and I was chomping on a cigar. I need to reduce my stress because I'm tired of waking up in the Fidel position.
Watching Jeopardy...Very unsettling. Ken Jennings has this expression that could best be described as Open-the-podbay-doors-HAL! But IBM had to have an engineer share a funny anecdote on Watson's behalf. So I feel superior again.
In Egypt, citizens have risen up en masse to demand civil liberty and human dignity. In the U.S., our House of Representatives has taken up a bill to defund access to Cookie Monster.
Dear Orphaned Puppies, While doing my taxes I threw some extra sugar in the state treasury for animal shelters. If that $10 contribution doesn't make it to you in next fiscal year, you have my blessing to bite the nearest elected official on the
Thought I prepared. I have flashlights, canned food, juice, water, chips, a frozen pizza, a backup frozen pizza, and candles. But I forgot to check my supply of Frank's Red Hot Sauce. Does anyone have four-wheel drive?
In Holy Writ it is said that a little child shall lead them. At the coffee shop it is shown that a little child can get a table of grown men who are strangers to play with blocks.
Jeff Bridges briefly popped into my dreams last night. I asked him if he had fun making the Tron sequel. He gruffly replied, "Well obviously it didn't turn out too well!" Awkward.
Gearing up for hike #2 of spring. Backpack loaded, except...where's my Lord Byron anthology? I can't find it. Serious problem! Might have to postpone the hike...Oh, there it is. Under the bills. Nature! Here I come!
Jarring the tranquility of the library, an old guy sitting alone at a computer just exclaimed, "Bullshit." I snuck a peek at his monitor. He's doing genealogy.

For my previous collection of pathetic, but successful, attempts to get attention, please read Best of Facebook Status Updates: Volume 2.

Notes on Everest Before the Summit Push

2011-05-14T11:35:00.000-07:00

UPDATE ON ALAN ARNETTE'S CLIMB of Mount Everest, In Progress

Those of you who check in regularly know I've been following Alan Arnette's climb of Mount Everest. He is doing so to raise funds for Alzheimer's research. At this moment, he is waiting for a break in the weather prior to pushing for the summit of the world's highest peak. Here is a link to his most recent blog post from Everest Base Camp in Nepal:

The Mental Side of-Everest, by Alan Arnette

A Review of A Great Everest Book

Touching My Father's Soul: A Sherpa's Journey to the Top of Everest by Jamling Tenzing Norgay
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

As I read this book, I kept feeling sorry for people who only know Mt. Everest through Jon Krakauer's Into Thin Air. They are missing out. It's not that Mr. Norgay's book is better, only that it offers a sharply different perspective. Put another way, this book taught me that a true understanding of Everest cannot be achieved from the perspective of only one nationality or ethnicity.

Like so many people, I thought the term "Sherpa" was just a job title, not the name of an entire people with a history and culture independent of their iconic vocation. This book takes a deep and personal look into the life of Sherpa through the eyes of one of their prominent sons. It is also a multi-generational story, because the author--Jamling Tenzing Norgay—is the son of the Sherpa who successfully climbed to the summit of Mt. Everest with Sir Edmund Hillary in 1953.

In particular, I enjoyed Mr. Norgay's exploration of Buddhism, and especially how the climb helped him make peace with his late father. The author describes Buddhist rituals that all climbers participate in, whether out of genuine faith or obligation. He describes frankly the tension created with his wife when deciding to climb. And most touching is the seamlessly woven story of his father's summiting Everest almost a half-century prior.

For anyone wanting to understand the international culture of Mt. Everest, this book is a must-read. It also offers a fascinating discussion on Tibetan Buddhism. And if Mr. Norgay's devotion to his faith sometimes results in an unbalanced, less-objective rendering of the Everest experience, this is forgivable. He writes with an awareness of this bias. In the end, he hopes that the culture of Everest will bring all people together, as it brought together a father and son.

Kudos also to Broughton Coburn for his role in bringing this story to print.

View all my reviews

I Claim No Tears for Monsters, yet...

2011-05-08T11:27:00.000-07:00

A Post Before I Celebrate Mother's Day

“For pleasures past I do not grieve,
Nor perils gathering near;
My greatest grief is that I leave
No thing that claims a tear.”

-Lord Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto I, ll. 178-81

Many have passed away this week--some who deserved more mention than they received. But that is not what I mean to critique. It is fit that the death of a single monster draws our fascination, gives us pause, and causes our deeper nature to surface. We can learn from this. We might not. But we can.

Like millions, I listened as President Obama announced the death of a monster. Immediately I felt mixed emotions. It took days for me to hash out how I really felt. When I did, I summed up my reaction in a text message to a friend. She asked how my life was going. Here was my reply:

“Well, nothing too noteworthy. ...Got some good TV reception and started to watch CSI: Miami, but then something happened in the world y’know, and Horatio Caine got preempted for a speech that felt strangely like the ending of a good CSI episode.”

The police procedural is one of the most entertaining and simultaneously trite forms of storytelling. That is why we relish cop shows, even finding them comforting. We need to believe that tough cases can be solved and villains can be defeated.

Still, as I watched the President announce a monster’s demise, I did so with a seasoned admiration. He spoke as a proud American. Yet he spoke soberly, suggesting we had won a single round in an ongoing fight. He also spoke as one who knows what it means to order death. And so his speech, rich in somber nostalgia for 9/11, was darkened by the shadow of having employed reciprocal brutality.

Why does any person aspire to be president? Especially when one of the few guarantees of the job is that you will be called upon to order the killing of other humans. Why would anybody want such a position? Why would they seemingly thirst for it as candidates often do?

Perhaps it is a generic urge for power and success, a desire to be the center of attention. I have to think it is related to the same urge that led many college students to hustle over to the White House gates and hold a football-style pep rally. Waving uncouth signs and chanting trite cheers, they looked like fools to me. Only fools would revel after just hearing that our military had invaded a sovereign nuclear power and initiated hostilities with residents there.

I confess feeling a bit of pleasure after hearing the news, even as I considered how I had helped pay the wages of the warrior who put a bullet in the monster’s brain. But this monster was also a man, a husband (several times over), and a father whose son was close by. He was not an alien. In fact, down at the genetic level, he was almost indistinguishable from any other human. That ought to haunt us. Else we risk not learning from it.

I do not claim a tear for this fallen terrorist. I--we--have shed so many for our fellow humans he murdered. But I also draw a lesson from history. Heroic gun fights, and the barbaric celebrations that happen after, are not the cessation of anything except a few souls. Rather, these events comprise the eve of whatever comes next.

Today is Mother’s Day. Like many holidays, it gets me musing about the types of lives and events we tend to celebrate. Some are worthier than others. Hopefully, more and more, we will cultivate fascination for lives spent waging benevolence, instead of lives given over to the rhapsodizing of feuds. Such are the lives which can and should claim our tears when they cease.

Returning to Waterloo-Pinckney in 2011

2011-05-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

My Encounter with a Serpent, but first...

"I always feel like I'm repenting when I go hiking."

--Childe Jake, Oct. 3, 2010
From Revisiting the Waterloo-Pinckney Trail For Surcease

Early spring flowers on the Lowland Trail

The poet in me had fun while taking this shot. These little flowers were positively percolating in the crisp breeze. At first, I saw them as giddy children playing for the camera. A breath later I regarded them as shivering pioneers hunkered down against the chill of a winterish breeze.

This weekend was my first visit to the Waterloo Recreation Area in 2011. I was curious to see how much spring growth had occurred. The above picture sums it up. The woods remain mostly brown and gray following a very mild April. Early spring gives the Waterloo Recreation Area a rustic beauty.

Some Political Harping and then onto Snakes

A raised pathway and skunk cabbage on the Lowland Trail

Sometimes government gets it right. Recently, the state of Michigan overhauled its parks pass system. Not only did they make it easier and more efficient to get a pass--check a box on your car registration renewal form--they made it cheaper. I paid a measly $10 extra as part of my registration renewal. Click here for more information on Michigan's Recreation Passport.

Still, as I traversed the above walkway I worried about the DNR's ability to maintain state parks in the coming year. Especially in Michigan there is a prevalent, and thoroughly overzealous notion, that any discretionary spending constitutes big bad government. Not so. The above image, showing a cherishable interplay between nature and civilization, reminds me that some taxes are worth paying.

A Snake on the Bog Trail

The Bog Trail runs about 1.5 miles round trip. I had forgotten what an enjoyable trail it is, boasting an easy-going assortment of raised walkways, gravel sections and intimate vistas. As I reached the trail's end, I encountered a snake. Can you see him?

A snake slithers away on the Bog Trail.

I suppose I'm like most folks when encountering a snake in the wild. Following an initial burst of primal fear, I find myself beset with curiosity and a keen desire to pick fruit. In any case, it must be underscored that I was not the more nervous soul in this encounter. In fact, the above photo is of the second snake I saw at the Bog Trail's end. A smaller one fled just after I arrived.

A few minutes later, literally as I was writing about the first snake in my notepad, the above fellow slid halfway onto the path. It took at least 10 minutes for the snake to convince itself I wasn't about to attack. Then, slowly and coolly, it brought its full body up onto the walkway. Perhaps 2 feet in length, it always kept an eye on my 6'2" body. When I shifted my stance to pull out my camera phone, the snake cocked its head up accordingly. Nor did it ever move toward me. When he slithered back into the tall grass, I got within five feet for a closer look at his black back and yellow stripes.

My first two visits to the Waterloo Recreation Area in 2011 resulted in hiking about 3 miles of trail. Not a bad opening weekend for a husky guy in his mid-30s. After all, I'm just repenting for too many fair-weather days wasted on the couch. More hikes are planned for May!

For more information about the Waterloo-Pinckney Trail, click here.

5/4/11 UPDATE:
Thanks to some nifty pictures and descriptions from the DNR website, I am pretty sure the second snake I encountered was either a Butler Garter Snake or a Northern Ribbon Snake. My guess would be the Butler. Click here for DNR information on snakes in Michigan.

ISS Leads My Cosmos Clearing House for April

2011-04-24T05:00:00.000-07:00

ISS Captures Hurricane Earl Image

My NASA Daily Digest Bulletin included the following image. I love angled shots like this. They strike me as more dramatic than photos taken from directly overhead. Enjoy.

Photo Credit: NASA

We are entering what will hopefully be the heyday of the International Space Station. Now fully stocked and staffed, it is poised to churn out lots of research and experience that benefit not only the space industry, but all of humanity. Will the ISS deliver constant heart-stopping discovery? Of course not. Still my personal hope is that, like the Hubble Space Telescope, the ISS will accumulate a body of dramatic images and knowledge that cultivate public endearment. Bottom line: space exploration needs a thriving workaday culture that only mainstays like Hubble and the ISS provide.

Click Here to Enjoy more NASA Images

LightSail-1 Makes NASA's Short List

As a member of The Planetary Society, I'm always excited when our organization hits another milestone or achieves new results. So it was wonderful to hear that LightSail-1, a solar sail spacecraft funded by the Society, has been short-listed for a future NASA launch. I suppose this is the cosmic equivalent of scoring an Oscar nomination. It's not the actual award, but it is a major vote of confidence.

Click Here to Read the Official Press Release

-OR-

Click Here for a Rundown on Solar Sails

'Martian Summer' Makes Childe Jake's Short List

Photo Credit: NASA/JPL/U.Arizona

Okay, the above image is not the most exciting Mars photo ever taken...but it is very special to me. Look closely and notice the DVD affixed to NASA's Phoenix Mars Lander. It is a time capsule of sorts--a gift to future Martian colonists. This archival disc includes various pieces of literature about Mars exploration, including science fiction classics. It also includes a list of names of Earth citizens, including mine. So I remain fond of this particular NASA artifact. Now about the new book.

Martian Summer is a non-fiction firsthand account of NASA's historic Phoenix Mars mission. Phoenix discovered the Holy Grail of cosmic commodities: ice. I'm especially excited to discover that this book, which I first heard about on NPR, is not written by a NASA scientist. Rather, it comes from the pen of a Brooklyn-based writer who is described in publicity materials as a "fanboy." I'm looking forward to what will hopefully be a very good and accessible read. Expect a review sometime in the near future.

Swamplandia! - Go for the Gators, Stay for the Kids

2011-04-17T05:00:00.000-07:00

Swamplandia! by Karen Russell
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

It took reading half of Swamplandia! for me to appreciate the story, let alone truly connect with it. Author Karen Russell keeps many things up in the air, including the very genre of the novel. Is it contemporary realism by way of a coming of age story? Fantasy by way of ghost story? Mystery by way of abduction story? To be candid, my chief worry early on was that the weakness was in me, not in Swamplandia!. Has a steady diet of TV and Internet made my attention span woefully short? Am I incapable of enjoying an expertly prepared, slow-boiling narrative?

Alas, the weakness was mostly mine. Using slow rising action, Ms. Russell seamlessly merges fantasy and reality. And she begs the question of which is which--especially for children. In retrospect, I should have drawn more significance from Stephen King’s endorsement on the novel’s dust jacket. He gives Swamplandia! a glowing accolade while simultaneously appraising it as “creepy and sinister”.

I say all that to say this; I wholeheartedly give Swamplandia! four stars. And if I was rating the quality of the prose alone, I would give it five. Ms. Russell is a world-class wielder of English. Even as some narrative choices bugged me, I rarely went a paragraph without being entranced by the way she arranged words and phrases. Experiencing this novel reminded me of how worthwhile it is to spend an evening reading excellent writing.

Where Swamplandia! exhibits a problem is in its larger structure, which sometimes feels out of balance. There can be no mistaking that Ava, a young girl left alone in the swampland of Florida, is the novel’s central character. She even narrates most of the story in first-person. Yet, not too far into the book Russell begins switching to third person for some chapters. She does this to develop a parallel narrative. While Ava remains in the swamp, her older brother Kiwi embarks on an urban adventure to save the family business, an old alligator-wrestling park. For a time, these narratives compete more than they complement one another.

Compared to Ava’s mystical adventure in the vast swamp, Kiwi’s plotline initially read dry and static. Frankly, I struggled to get interested in Kiwi for several chapters. But when a new personal crisis thrashed its way into his life, I began feeling the same connection to him that I already enjoyed with Ava. And the tension kept increasing. Nothing that happened to Kiwi and Ava in the second half of the book allowed me to feel ambivalent.

One of the richest themes explored in Swamplandia! is the give and take between old and young. Ava and Kiwi are ever vying with seasoned adults of varying repute. At times this generational tension reaches frantic levels. I found myself comparing the fictional struggle to a real-life frustration of mine. Of late, I’ve been feeling anger toward my elders. In particular, I’m flabbergasted by politicians--left and right--who claim to want the best for children. Yet they aggressively cut education funding before even daring to discuss scaled back funding for--I’m going to say it--old people.

For me, Swamplandia! evinces a hope that opposing individuals or groups can reconcile and jointly succeed. To do so they must strive to give as much, or perhaps more, than they expect to receive from the other. The characters in this novel who triumph do so by going to great lengths to aid others. It’s a tribute to Karen Russell that she has penned a novel rich in fantastical trappings that never loses its relevance to our real world--a world we all need to understand better and accept.

Bottom Line: I highly recommend Swamplandia!

View all my reviews

Partial Shutdown of Childe Jake's Weekend

2011-04-09T13:50:00.000-07:00

From the Associative Press

Childe Jake enacted a partial shutdown of his weekend after the right and left sides of his brain failed to reach a budget deal by Friday at 5pm. Essential services remain up and running, including heating frozen pizza and viewing a copy of The Last Picture Show borrowed from the library. However, Jake's social life has already begun to suffer. For the duration of the shutdown, he is restricted from sending tweets to the three "real" Kate Beckinsales he follows.

At a press conference, the Childe had this to say:

“I regret that internal disputes over discretionary spending have caused a partial shutdown of my weekend. Nevertheless, all facets of my soul can take heart that the microwave, freezer, computer and toilet continue to operate normally.”

Asked to clarify if other hygiene services would be affected, Jake indicated showering would proceed at a delayed rate. Dishwashing, which has always been sporadic, will only occur in the event of a spoon outage.

Jake’s left brain had been optimistic about reaching a compromise that would have capped weekend spending at $33. However, negotiations broke down when the right side of Jake’s brain attached a morality rider to a proposed stopgap cash withdrawal of $20. The rider basically stated that Kate Beckinsale fantasies are naughty and should be offset with reruns of Touched by an Angel. Jake balked.

“Folks, this is a checkbook issue. What does discontinuing a highly elegant fantasy set in the forest near a waterfall have to do with whether I buy DiGiorno or settle for the Totino's that's already in the freezer?”

UPDATE: An agreement was reached earlier today as Jake listened to a particularly mirthful segment of Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me! on Michigan Radio. Funding will continue through Sunday night, at which time Jake is set to begin debating a purchase of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream to take his mind off the coming week. Though both sides are applauding this new accord, Jake’s cynical aspect made a pointed statement while appearing on the bathroom mirror earlier today:

“Get real. Shutdowns only affect the checking account. Jake's governing tendencies retain full access to the credit card whether the dishes get done or not. Now if you’ll excuse Kate and me...”

AND ON A FINAL NOTE OF SINCERITY:

I’ll believe it next Friday.

Climbing Everest for Alzheimer's Research: An Update

2011-04-03T12:00:00.000-07:00

Logo from climb4ad.com

It's again time to be a responsible amateur blogger. Responsible amateur blogging, in my opinion, involves routinely steering people to blogs written by professionals and experts. I'm happy to do that today for a very good cause.

World-class climber Alan Arnette is currently trekking to Mt. Everest Base Camp. Everest is the third of seven summits he is climbing this year to raise funds for Alzheimer's research. He is documenting the adventure via blog posts, tweets, images and audio.

If you've never followed an Everest expedition in real time, Mr. Arnette's quest is ideally suited for newcomers and casual observers. His site is rich with great content. Personally, I can attest that following a climber's attempt to summit Everest takes on the same excitement and suspense of any spectator sport. It's even more worthwhile when you follow someone who is climbing for a good cause. So here is a link to a blog post that is well worth the read:

Memories of Everest First View

Of Transparent Eyeballs and Angry Squirrels

2011-03-27T12:06:00.000-07:00

Episode 2 of my Quest to Become a Transparent Eyeball

If you missed Episode 1, click here.

Standing serenely on my porch on Satur--NO MICROSOFT WORD, I DO NOT NEED YOU TO FILL IN THE REST OF THE WORD ‘SATURDAY’ FOR ME!

Okay. Let’s start over. But first, I apologize for flying off the handle just now. My blogging audience should not have to witness such outbursts…and by blogging audience I mean my mom and that person who found my webpage by googling ‘veiny dog.’

Mind you, I’ve never blogged about veiny dogs. I did use the word ‘veiny’ in a blog post about a cool NASA photo. And on two other posts I have collaborated with a dog. This may explain how my blog showed up in Google search results for ‘veiny dog.’ But it doesn’t explain why anyone would google such a term.

Second Attempt to Blog about Becoming a Transparent Eyeball

Standing serenely on my porch on Saturday, taking in the dawning sun and crisp early-spring breeze, I transcend the rat race of the city. Like Ralph Waldo Emerson, I become a transparent eyeball. If you’re unfamiliar with the term, don’t google it right away. Just ask yourself, what might it mean to become a transparent eyeball?

For me, being a transparent eyeball means becoming a seamless patch of fabric in the quilt of Nature. It also implies a sense of peace and an ability to observe the beauty of the world free from hindrance. That is the exquisite state of being I felt myself achieving Saturday morning...until a squirrel yelled at me.

Now, spending much of my life in cities, I am attuned to the vocalizations of the urban squirrel. They have a sharp, tinselly quality (The Childe stops writing to verify with his dictionary that ‘tinselly’ is a word. ...It is!)

My apologies for getting off track again. Here I am trying to blog about the impediment squirrels pose to achieving transcendental joy. And I do this out of a sincere concern for my audience--an audience that apparently includes a person who googled ‘sexy Mormon.’ Mind you, I’ve never blogged about sexy Mormons. I have blogged about Mormons, and in other posts I have addressed sexiness. This may explain why my blog showed up in the search results for ‘sexy Mormon.’ But it doesn’t explain why anyone would google such a term.

Third Attempt at Transparent Eyeball Blog Post

An urban squirrel, similar in size and attitude to the one depicted in this post.

Anyhow, there I was, standing on my porch on a Saturday morning, attempting to commune with Nature (aka front yard). Without warning, I found myself verbally accosted by a squirrel.

Squirrels in my town aren’t like squirrels in other towns. Here they do not passively circumnavigate tree trunks in a vain attempt to remain unseen. I’ve seen squirrels stop cars in this town rather than get out of the way (No lie.) The squirrels in my town--not unlike other life forms in the neighborhood--have a sense of entitlement. They strut about as if the cosmos owes them something. What presumption!

I confess that receiving verbal blows at the hand/claw/paw-thingy of a rodent was a tad traumatic. The signature battle cry of an angry squirrel grates like iron cloth scrubbing a burn-blackened pan. And to be clear, this squirrel was yelling at me. No other being was around, neither bird nor man nor fellow squirrel. The beast was looking directly at me and the yell was unmistakably reproving in tone. Yet, it only made me more desirous to become a transparent eyeball.

If I was a transparent eyeball, I could unobtrusively watch this squirrel be a squirrel. After all, when not acting pissy, squirrels are quite fun to watch. Every moment of their lives is filled with a vitality that workaday humans often lack. Part of me wonders if this same existential vibrancy is enjoyed by veiny dogs, sexy Mormons and the humans who would know them better.

As all this occurred to me on the porch, I tried something silly. I spoke to the squirrel. “Hi, Squirrel. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Miraculously, as I spoke the squirrel stopped yelling. I drew closer, though still 13 feet below his perch, and spoke again. “Come on down, Squirrel. I’ll pet you.” To my amazement he climbed down a few branches, all the while remaining focused on me. The squirrel even began to seem more curious than hostile. Were we becoming friends?

Heck, no. It’s a frickin’ squirrel. Centuries of evolution have instructed this species that humans are not lambs, and thus not to be lied down with. My quest to commune with Nature unsuccessful, I headed to a coffee shop. Ah the coffee shop!--where provisions can be got without foraging, with little threat of predators, and for no more trouble than it takes to offer up a swatch of manmade greenery called cash. Granted, we who deal in such abstract forms of exchange are neither transparent nor at peace with Nature…but neither are we hungry.

Episode 3 of My Transparent Eyeball Quest

Click the following link to read how A Childe Battles with the Beast

Unbiased Adoration for Kevin Smith's 'Red State'

2011-03-20T11:21:00.000-07:00

Red State Teaser Trailer

Childe Jake's Review of Red State: Ann Arbor, Michigan Screening

For all of the spectacle that cinema affords, sometimes its most prized offering is the simple yet magical first appearance of a film’s star. A great example is Robert Shaw’s nails-on-chalkboard intrusion into Jaws. The new indie thriller Red State provides just such an entrance by actor John Goodman.

Easily the biggest name in Red State, Goodman doesn’t show up right away. In fact, I was so caught up in the movie’s disturbing first act that I actually forgot he was in the cast. It’s not just cool that Goodman, being pop culture royalty, would deign to appear in a low-budget flick like Red State. It’s that his entrance is perfectly timed and sublimely understated, coming right after a particularly brutal sequence.

Red State is filmmaker Kevin Smith’s supercharged take on homegrown religious extremism. I don’t want to say much about the plot, because this is one of those films where the less you know the better your viewing experience will be. Suffice it to say that Red State begins with three teenagers on a quest to get laid. They drive into the proverbial sticks and get abducted by an ominous cult waging war with sinners.

The above setup, summarily executed, is where the film’s predictability ends. By the time Goodman arrives, the only thing the audience knows for sure is that anything could happen next. This gets to the core of why Goodman’s familiar presence is so appreciated, even comforting. Who else could get audience applause for merely rolling out of bed?

Red State is a dark and menacing hodgepodge of genres and styles. Among others, it mixes the gritty feel and tension of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre with the peppery dialogue of Reservoir Dogs. Plus, the whole thing gets shot with frenetic camera work reminiscent of Requiem for a Dream. If you are inclined to regard the above fare as over the top, then you aren’t paying attention to the country you live in. We’re pretty crazy these days. And if we don’t calm down, the Armageddon fate looming over Goodman’s character in Red State may be our own.

Lest this review turn into a total love fest, I must say Red State is not perfect. At times, the film’s low budget is distractingly apparent. There are also a few patches of dialogue where the exposition comes across heavy and forced. Perhaps more problematic, Smith’s taste for thoughtfulness and humanity sometimes competes awkwardly with his penchant for farcical scenarios. Still, these narrative shortcomings can be forgiven. Like Smith’s previous films, Red State hits home whenever characters voice notions us real folks are having but lack the guts to say aloud.

Ultimately, the twin gems of Red State are crafty performances by Goodman and Michael Parks, who plays the movie’s slithering villain. Call these guys the Yin and Yikes of Red State. I don’t seriously expect this movie to rake in awards, but between SAG, the Golden Globes and Oscar himself, one or both of these actors should at least get a nod.

Red State is currently on tour, with Smith hosting screenings followed by Q and A at big theatres. Later this year, the movie should find its way to a Cineplex near you. For independent film fans this is the chance to see Kevin Smith return to the roots that fostered his breakthrough film Clerks. But for everyone Red State is an opportunity to be entertained, challenged, and also reminded how wonderful it is when John Goodman shows up for the shindig.

Click Here for my Previous Kevin Smith Post

Cosmos Clearinghouse for March

2011-03-13T05:00:00.000-07:00

A Poignant Farewell for NASA's Discovery

Here is a photo taken from the International Space Station as the shuttle Discovery began its final voyage back to Earth. To understand the human significance of this photo, imagine the shuttle is a mighty and heroic cowboy named Shane. As the hero drifts away, a little childe shouts, "Shane! Come back!"

NASA image of Discovery on its last flight, as viewed from the ISS on 3/7/11.

A Visit with Discovery's First Pilot

There has been plenty of coverage of the space shuttle Discovery's final flight. The media is always on hand when NASA does something sexy or obviously historical--or when budget cuts from Congress force the agency to take another small step toward irrelevance. Anyway...

Here is some coverage I deeply appreciated. NPR's Weekend Edition Saturday did an interview with Capt. Mike Coats, the first pilot of Discovery. This piece is bittersweet. Coats is watching the shuttle he piloted on its maiden voyage head to a museum. At any rate, the interview is well worth four minutes of your time. Capt. Coats speaks with dignity and clarity. He also shows himself to be a keen observer of history in the making.Click here to listen.

Childe Jake's Review of Contact

This past week I guest-blogged for the Ambitious Ambigue, a writer based in Ann Arbor. She is building a site of reviews for the 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die. After happily finding Carl Sagan's novel Contact on this list, I offered to provide a review. You can read it by clicking here. As always, comments are welcome. Of course more important than reading my review, I hope you will read the book!

This Childe's Memories Enhanced 'The Shining'

2011-03-06T05:00:00.000-08:00

The Shining by Stephen King
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

It didn’t help that I started reading The Shining just as the biggest storm of winter was hitting. Nor did it help that I live alone and it often gets quiet. And it certainly did not help that, like the character Jack, I’m a moody writer. Or, as author Stephen King might suggest, these factors helped immensely! Suffice it to say that by 200 pages into The Shining, I was thoroughly spooked and sweating emotion.

The central character of The Shining is Danny, a little boy surrounded by the haunting Rocky Mountains. In this colossal setting, Danny is utterly dependent on parents who themselves navigate a precarious existence. When I was Danny’s age, I lived in Colorado and spent a good deal of time in the mountains with my mom and dad. Like Danny, I was intensely close to my parents. For these reasons, I found the first third of The Shining spellbinding.

Novels are at their best when you just sink into them. And I did with this one. It isn’t that King’s writing is especially masterful. Though, I do find him far better at characterization than some give him credit for. Rather, with The Shining King just happened to press all the right buttons with me. When Jack, Wendy and Danny stood alone on the porch of the Overlook Hotel, watching the last car drive off down the mountain, I was right there with them. In fact, I found it quite emotional.

King succeeds marvelously in the first act of this book, depicting stark human weakness as it appears to the mind of a thoughtful little boy. Happily, one of the dividends I received from reading The Shining was a renewed gratitude for my parents. Only in my 30s have I begun to comprehend how hard they must have worked to provide me an early childhood that truly was charmed.

Still, once the forlorn trio is confined to the highly fictional Overlook Hotel, the story becomes mostly about spooky horror devices. Here I felt my infatuation with The Shining wane. The novel began to feel unnecessarily drawn out. Passages of introspection increasingly seemed overstated and redundant in the context of a conventional horror mill. It remained entertaining but seemed far less special than the first third of the book.

If you are considering trying Stephen King out, I wouldn’t start with The Shining. But if you’ve read other King novels and enjoyed them, I wouldn’t miss this one. As King states in his Introduction, this novel represented a critical point in his career—the moment when he decided to take his writing beyond mere “funhouse” fiction. As he puts it, the “truth is that monsters are real, and ghosts are real, too. They live inside us, and sometimes they win.”

View all my reviews

Best of Facebook Status Updates: Volume 2

2011-02-27T05:00:00.000-08:00

Submissions for as yet Uncreated Pulitzer Prize for Status Updates

According to Blogger.com's Stats, my blog has been viewed eight times in China. I am stunned by the realization that my fiery Western rhetoric has begun to reach the Middle Kingdom. Sure hope they like the post about how to snuggle.
So, apparently Friday is now Sassy Day at the office.
For maximum flavor, allow Cheez-Its to breathe for 5 to 10 minutes before serving.
Taking a break from bipartisan anger to enjoy the great outdoors.
I used to think I was an ordinary uncle. But now I have sat shotgun as my niece practices driving with my car, and I know I am a brave uncle.
The hardest part about tinkering is stopping.
No wait. The hardest thing about tinkering...um...The most difficult facet of tin...Damn it!
This was the gist of two different elected officials I heard today: We are willing to cooperate with the other side provided they do what we want.
There is a Ladies-themed festival occurring in Chelsea today. All men are*hiccup*encouraged to attend both wine tastings*hiccup*and then seek shelter in either a garage or hardware store.*hiccup*A Severe Shopping Warning is in effect until 6 PM.
Been thinking a lot about where my life is headed. Y'know, trying to figure out where I should be going. Then today I saw Kate Beckinsale on a billboard on eastbound I-94 just past Zeeb Rd. So I'm thinkin' I'm gonna start going to Ann Arbor more.
Whenever I read amateur blogs online, I am reminded that many Americans suck at writing.
You know a fly is not long for this world when your attempt to shoo it away results in tripping it.
I saw a beautiful woman picking her nose. I didn't know that sort of thing happened.

For my previous collection of pathetic, but successful, attempts to get attention, please read Best of Facebook Status Updates.

Some Taxes are Worth Paying

2011-02-20T05:00:00.000-08:00

My Soap Box

This week has reminded me how much I value public broadcasting. For those who've already seen my harping via Facebook status updates, I hope you will indulge this post as well. Be assured that many folks in high places would be content if you dismissed what I am about to say. They know that eliminating public broadcast funding won't come close to balancing the federal budget. But they are milking the fashionable hatred of taxes for all it's worth. They are also fond of fabricating mandates by saying, "The American people have spoken" (even when 50% or more of us have not).

I speak as an American who does not have cable, satellite, or high-speed Internet at home. I speak as an American who saw his phone bill double just so I could afford a reasonably intelligent cell phone. But most importantly, I speak as an American for whom radio remains my primary contact with the world...at least when I'm in my apartment.

I am not helpless. I am not destitute. But I am on a tight budget. And if it's a choice between getting basic cable, or instead making semi-annual donations to public radio and using my remaining discretionary funds to buy books, then for me it is no choice at all. I go with public broadcasting.

My Plug for Excellent Journalism

Here are links to two publicly broadcast stories that I appreciated last week. But please, only read on if you "Support the Troops" and prize self-reliance.

An incredibly touching piece aired on The Story last week. It came from independent radio producer Jake Warga. Not long ago, he embedded with troops in Iraq. Mr. Warga combined interviews with music samples from the soldiers' iPods. The story is called Soldiers Soundtracks To War--Iraq. To hear the full tracks you will need to register for the site, but it is free. And it's a chance to spend quality time with our armed forces.

As two of my past posts ever so slightly hint at, I am a fan of Charity Nebbe. She used to be a host on Michigan Radio. Tragically, last year she was abducted by Iowans. Well, I may have the facts wrong about her move, but I'm an amateur blogger. If you want the best coverage, here's what you need to do. Find a top-notch media outlet whose business model ensures that it is not beholden to any one person, corporation, or ideology. I recommend your local NPR station.

Anyhow, Ms. Nebbe now hosts a morning program called Talk of Iowa. Each broadcast focuses on a single topic and includes in-depth interviews with experts. Look for the 2/10/11 show about volunteering. You don't have to be from Iowa to benefit from observing the thriving volunteer program at University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics.

My Parting Shot

I often hear friends and family complain that they pay for hundreds of channels but frequently have trouble finding something good. Pardon me for bragging, but I only have two stations and I don't have that problem. I simply do not.

Let's Reclassify 'How I Killed Pluto'

2011-02-13T05:00:00.000-08:00

How I Killed Pluto and Why It Had It Coming by Mike Brown
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This book is a must-read...unless you want to get to the bottom of the Pluto controversy. Still, don’t skip this book...except if you are anxious to learn why Pluto is not a planet. In short, read this book, but not for the titular reason it begs to be read. Pluto is only a supporting character in Dr. Mike Brown’s story.

Read this book because it is a great memoir. Dr. Brown’s tale of hunting for new planets is full of drama and intrigue. If you have ever been fascinated by the high-stakes, ultra-competitive lives of star athletes, performers or politicians, be assured that the life of a research scientist is every bit as intense and engrossing. Or at least it can be, and it certainly has been for Dr. Brown. His research was an active ingredient in what became a planetary controversy.

Paradigm-shifting research notwithstanding, this is mostly a book about one man. It is an introspective account of Dr. Brown’s zealous quest to be a discoverer, not just a scientist. And at its most meaningful, it is a story about how Brown’s desire to be a good husband and father magically supplanted his other ambitions. Furthermore, it behooves all of us who are non-scientists to learn not just about the science, but also about the lives of upper-echelon researchers. Like it or not, academics such as Dr. Brown play an integral role in shaping everything from government policy to human history.

All that said, if what you are after is the story of Pluto’s “death”, then you might want to pass on a book that is mostly about Dr. Brown’s life. If you want an engaging account of the Pluto controversy, I recommend Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson’s The Pluto Files. But once you are done reading that one, come back to this far more personal story. We all can learn from the ups and downs of a good scientist.

View all my reviews

My Ode to Emerson's Transparent Eyeball

2011-02-06T05:00:00.000-08:00

Fair warning, this post includes some profanity.

A Preface from Childe Harold

I live not in myself, but I become
Portion of that around me...

--Lord Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto III, lines 680-681

The above excerpt comes from a person who felt trapped by the pretentious urbanity of society. Byron wasn't the first or last writer to revel in this sentiment--a sentiment that is both an urge to transcend one environment and a desire to become immersed in a second, usually Nature.

Another writer who mused along these lines was Ralph Waldo Emerson. I haven't read any more Emerson than was required of me in college (and that is my fault). My familiarity with Emerson is primarily limited to his famous line, "I become a transparent eye-ball..." If you aren't familiar with the reference, don't google it right away. Just ask yourself what it might mean to be a transparent eyeball.

The Personal Context

Recently I spent an hour sitting in the coffee shop of Borders Bookstore in downtown Ann Arbor. (Quick aside: online bookstores don't have coffee shops. Just sayin'.) While nursing a white chocolate mocha, I found myself feeling at turns proud or ashamed of the choice to hang in such a crowded and pretentious setting. This sense of discontent, mingled with caffeine, brought on the urge to write. So I started transcribing my inner voice into a pocket notebook. It ended up being a stream of consciousness exercise. If you need a quick primer on stream of consciousness writing, Oprah provides a good one here.

By way of honesty, I didn't write extemporaneously the whole time. Sometimes I paused and mapped out the next line in my head. But it was the most spontaneous writing I've done in awhile. So I'm going to share it here. Just remember the background. This is Childe Jake sitting in a crowded coffee shop in Ann Arbor. Also, since I employed stream of consciousness, this piece may seem cryptic in places and occasioned by odd transitions. (My vanity dictates that I let you know I know that.)

A Perverse Ode to the Transparent Eyeball

This world has chewed me up.
This world has saturated me.
The world is a coffee shop where people pose as busy and engaged,
And then sometimes kill other people based on what they order.
I want back the world that had thriving video stores,
But not really.
I don’t want that world back—just that part of that world.
I think people who make fun of Emerson’s “transparent eyeball” are assholes.

I’m an asshole.
The girl sitting next to me is reading a romance novel entitled,
When Beauty Tamed the Beast.
Do I have to respect her?
I know I’m supposed to respect women, but really?
Her too?
It’s not like she’s reading Tolstoy.
Tolstoy would have respected her.

Someone I respect once called Tolstoy a flake.
If I could be a transparent eyeball I would never buy porn again.
Women who wear fur are walking romance novels.
Beauty Wears the Beast.
I’d read that novel.
This world is worn by Time.
The Romantics knew that Time was the fourth and great limiting dimension.
This world is bound by Time.
Light is the speed limit.
I keep trying to come full-circle.
A light comes on.
And it’s time to go.
To be immersed in a wireless age is to be a transparent eyeball.
He wanted to be the Immersed One
Just didn’t realize what a bummer it would be.

A Further Adventure

Click Here to Read Episode 2 of my Transparent Eyeball Quest.

Praise for NASA's NanoSail-D

2011-01-30T05:00:00.000-08:00

The Energy Debate

A big debate is taking place over the future of cars. What will power our personal and family vehicles in the future? Will the most efficient cars run on traditional gas, a gas/electric combination, or pure electricity? This is a good debate. We need to have it. And it is generating exciting research and development.

A similar debate is occurring in the space industry. What is the best way to power spacecraft? Will the best and most efficient spacecraft run on traditional rocket power, electrically charged engines, or solar sails? As with cars, the answer is almost certainly that each type of propulsion has a role to play. This is a good debate. We need to have it. And it is generating exciting research and development.

The Solar Sail Cometh

Image Credit: NASA

"Solar sails use sunlight to propel vehicles through space much like sailboats rely on wind to push through the water."

So says a NASA fact sheet I will soon link you to. Above is a great artist rendering of a solar sail driven by light from the sun, quite like clipper ships driven by wind in the 19th Century--a primitive era when using renewable energy was an act of common sense.

Congratulations to NASA and NanoSail-D

A big development happened this month with regard to solar sails. For the first time in orbit above the earth, NASA successfully deployed a solar sail, named NanoSail-D. It is now circling the earth. And in a development that I find even more impressive, NASA has marshaled amateur radio operators around the world to track this 100-square-foot sail over the course of its short life. To reach NanoSail-D's homepage, complete with photos, a fact sheet and a time line, click this link.

I also recommend the following NASA video. Watching this sail unfurl reminds me of the strange exhilaration got by watching a Jiffy Pop container expand. Sounds silly, I know. But watching something tightly compacted suddenly balloon to a formidable size is a treat.

Taking Out the Cosmic Garbage

NanoSail-D is now intentionally submitting itself to the friction of the atmosphere. As I said above, its life is short. What's the point? Just that, to have a short life and a fiery death. NanoSail-D is demonstrating that we can efficiently deorbit dangerous space junk by rigging it with a deployable sail. Oh that I could have had this technology back when my grandma in rural Utah would ask me to stop watching satellite TV and go burn the trash. (And now you really know why I support NASA.)

Lastly, this post is the latest in a series I am doing dedicated to solar sailing. Most recently, I discussed The Educational Incentive Behind Solar Sails.

Read My Testimony on 'Wheat and Tares'

2011-01-23T11:41:00.000-08:00

First, a Quick Update on 'Memories are Everything'

Logo from climb4ad.com

Accomplished mountain climber Alan Arnette is now ascending Aconcagua, the highest peak in South America. Arnette is climbing the highest summit on each continent this year to raise awareness and funds for Alzheimer's research. Cool photos, video, and audio updates are available on his blog site.

My Testimony of Life and Mind

Image from NASA/Cosmos Studios

I was invited to do a guest post at a Mormon-themed blog site called Wheat and Tares. Since it was my first official post there, I felt it appropriate to offer a statement of personal belief. The post is My Testimony of Life and Mind. I hope you will give it a read, as it is a great way to get to know me and some of my influences. My thanks to the authors of Wheat and Tares for the opportunity to participate in their rich and ongoing discussions.

Anatomy of a Safe Slumber

2011-01-16T05:00:00.000-08:00

Things you will need:

-A Bed

-Blankets

-Socks (preferably thick)

-Band-aids

-A nightstand (for band-aid storage)

Ever since writing Anatomy of a Snuggle, I’ve been musing about what self-help issue to address next. Not many nights ago, the right topic presented itself. Take note, good reader. The following instructional post is based on personal experience.

I would like to offer my specialized knowledge on an activity that is required for human survival: sleep. I’ll say it again. We humans require sleep. Not just quantity sleep, mind you. We need quality sleep.

Now I put this question to you: how can it be quality sleep if it is not safe sleep?

When I say “safe sleep”, I’m not talking about checking under the bed for monsters. Nor am I going to debate the pros and cons of owning a guard dog, firearms, or a home alarm system. These instructions assume that your bed is located in a reasonably safe, monster-free environment. Instead, I will focus on how to prepare one’s mind and body for safe sleeping. How can we ensure ourselves sleep that is relaxing, recuperative, and above all else, non-hazardous? Follow these steps:

1) In the hour before bedtime, avoid watching action programs, especially thrillers or sports. Also refrain from consuming caffeinated beverages. Instead, meditate on concepts like calmness and stillness.

2) Place band-aids in your nightstand.

3) Secure your sheets with well-tucked hospital corners. Ideally, also sleep under a thick comforter. Doing so informs your body that tossing and turning are undesirable.

4) Put on a pair of thick woolen socks.

5) For maximum wellbeing, I recommend sleeping on your back. Why not on your side? Remember, this isn’t just about the body. It’s about the soul. Sleeping on your back is an optimistic choice--what the sages call sanguine. You end your day looking upward.

6) Resist the urge to kick out your blankets as you drift off.

7) Don’t dream about playing soccer, especially if you are sleeping on your side and have failed to don thick socks.

8) If you are unable to avoid a dream about soccer, at least try to dream that the ball doesn’t come to you.

9) In the event that you have skipped one or all of the above steps--the result being that you are sleeping on your side, barefoot, with your feet sticking out of the sheets, all the while having an elaborate dream about playing in the World Cup--whatever happens, don’t dream that you kick the ball.

10) The sound of your foot impacting the nightstand with full force will probably awaken you. If the crashing sound doesn’t wake you up, the sharp pain in your foot certainly will. In any case, waking up is the next step.

11) Assess the wound or wounds your foot sustained while kicking the ball--that is to say the nightstand--into the opposing team’s goal.

12) Apply direct pressure to stop any bleeding.

13) Resume sleeping.

The above instructions, though not foolproof, increase the chances that you will sleep safely--even if you find yourself dreaming about a sport you haven't played since you were seven.

Lastly, I am including the below photo of a properly bandaged kicking foot. Safe sleeping, folks!

Sunshine State Without the Sunshine: An ISS Image

2011-01-09T05:00:00.000-08:00

Those with a keen eye for detail will notice the below photo is actually upside down. I intentionally flipped it before posting. You can see it with the dizzying space-based orientation at NASA’s photo gallery.

This image was taken from the International Space Station during the recent holiday season. As should be obvious, this is Florida at night. Clearly visible cities include Miami, Tampa and Orlando. And you can easily make out Cape Canaveral peeling away from the mainland at middle right. Also note how the veiny sprawl of freeway culture is evident.

For fun, I suggest opening a second browser window and comparing this photo to the satellite version in Google Maps. That's why I flipped it 180 degrees. Use the search term "Florida" and zoom as needed. It's the most cartographic fun I've had since 8th Grade Geography Class!

Florida as seen from the ISS, Image Credit: NASA

End-of-Year Superlatives from Childe Jake

2010-12-30T17:30:00.000-08:00

Most Important Plug for 2011

Regular readers are acquainted with my memorable "climb" up Sackrider Hill. Well, it turns out there are folks who climb even higher. One of them is Alan Arnette. This coming year he will be attempting the famed "Seven Summits." These are the highest peaks on each continent. Most importantly, he is doing these climbs to generate support for Alzheimer's Research. Speaking as the grandson of one who suffers from this disease, I hope you will consider following Mr. Arnette's adventure over the coming year. He is quite Internet savvy, so expect awesome photos and audio dispatches. Case in point: He's already tagged Mount Vinson in Antarctica. Seriously, even if you skip the rest of this blog post, I hope you will click on this link:

The 7 Summits Climb for Alzheimer's: Memories are Everything

Prompting the Man Who Leaves the Light on For Us

Of the various encounters I had with professional media talent this year, oddly enough I find myself most proud of this one:

I apparently persuaded Motel 6 spokesman Tom Bodett to register two Internet domain names at his own expense. Check out this funny post about Mr. Bodett's struggle to coin new automotive lingo upon purchasing his first minivan. And don't miss the reader comments that follow.

Most Popular Post by Pageviews:

By sheer numbers alone (over 200 pageviews in one morning), my most popular post of the year was a concession speech spoof: Childe Jake Ends Bid to Replace Charity Nebbe at Michigan Radio. The thanks go to none other than the station itself. Michigan Radio staff graciously, and without any begging from me, posted a link on their Facebook page. However, Michigan Radio producer Zoe Clark courted controversy by accusing me of excessive humor. To set the record straight, I was not "TOO funny!!" I was precisely the right amount of funny...humble too.

Post Garnering the Most Comments:

After some foot dragging, I posted a personal essay about my experience viewing a particularly controversial episode of the HBO series Big Love. I'd like to thank those who responded, from in and out of Mormonism, whether on my blog or on my Facebook Wall at the time. Here again is the link: Big Love for Barb.

Most Adorable, Best Eyes, Most Talented, etc.

Factoring in both pageviews and comments, the following post qualifies as the most enjoyed. If you haven't seen it, please do. It might change your life...or, at least make you grin. Here is the link: Anatomy of a Snuggle. And here is the special guest snuggler:

Most Potential, or The Solar Sailing Post that Could

It didn't get much reaction when I posted it in August; however, Harnessing 'The Wind From the Sun' keeps scoring a pageview or two a week. And really, that's all a solar sail needs to succeed: a slight and steady nudge. For an interesting look at how this frontier technology has moved into the realm of science fact, click on this link for LightSail-1! At minimum, enjoy this awesome artist's rendition by Rick Sternbach, available enlarged at the link below, courtesy The Planetary Society.

Photo Credit: Planetary Society

Thank you for visiting my blog! Have lots of happiness in the new year!

A Memory of Christmas in New England, 1995

2010-12-22T17:20:00.000-08:00

I remember spending the Christmas of 1995 in New England. I and three other Mormon missionaries went caroling at a veterans’ hospital in White River Junction, Vermont. This was a long time ago, and not just in years.

We were regular volunteers at the VA hospital, so it was an obvious choice to get in some extra service time by caroling there on Christmas morning. After all, each of us missionaries was far away from home. Our sacrifice for the holiday had already been made. Caroling at the hospital would be fun, and also a great way to fill up a morning with no appointments.

If memory serves, obtaining permission to carol at the VA hospital involved showing up on Christmas morning and saying to the first staff member we saw, “We’re here to sing Christmas carols to the veterans.” Our presence was more than welcome.

We showed up in our suits and ties, sporting pocket edition hymnals and feeling sure that we were doing some good. It certainly wasn’t a sacrifice. The four of us enjoyed singing together. We sounded good, and we’d grown up singing these beloved holiday hymns. We had a natural bass and a natural tenor. The other two of us fit in between for harmony.

We tended to sing a couple of hymns at each room. At some point we joined forces with a Protestant group who were also caroling. On a theological level, this was a bit like two opposing armies singing Silent Night together during a Christmas ceasefire.

Most of the patients were older men. And most of them were alone. After we finished a set for one gentleman, he reached out to thank us despite his bedridden state. As we leaned over the bed to hold his hands, he started to cry. “Thank you for visiting me. I expected to be all alone today. Thank you for coming.”

I want to say I held the old soldier’s hand as he said this, but I might be fabricating that memory. Or just as likely, we all gave him a sincere handshake in turn. I’m confident we lingered an extra moment, taking in his emotional gratitude.

I confess that after caroling at the VA, the remainder of that Christmas was devoted to our own care and convenience. The Bishop and his family fed us missionaries a great lunch. Then we called home to our families. And that evening the four of us had Christmas dinner together--a good brotherly cap to the holiday.

Though I’m no longer a churchgoer--and the reasons don’t matter for this blog post--that Christmas morning remains a cherished and haunting memory for me. I don’t have any grand point to make. It just occurred to me that I never wrote about that day. Though memory is imperfect, and often revisionist, it must have been a great Christmas. I believe so because I miss it.

Scoring 'The View From Serendip'

2010-12-12T06:00:00.000-08:00

The View from Serendip by Arthur C. Clarke
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Not too long ago I was forced to hide in the basement of my local public library during a tornado warning. During the two hours the staff and several of us patrons hid from the twister that never came, I snooped through the library’s stockpile of used books. This yard sale collection is rolled out every couple of months to provide much-needed funds for library operations. Anyhow, while snooping I discovered a copy of Arthur C. Clarke’s hard-to-find opus The View from Serendip.

I asked a library volunteer if, in the event we survived the non-existent tornado, I could take this out-of-print book upstairs and buy it right away…Y’know, instead of waiting for the next book sale when someone else might grab it first. The library volunteer uttered a rather curt reply: “No. And don’t take books off these shelves. I’m trying to keep them organized.” Smarting from her rebuke, I put the book back and resolved to hide in a friendlier part of the library’s basement while no tornados touched down anywhere in the county.

A couple of months later there was a properly sanctioned library book sale. Brushing past several suspicious elderly women, I nabbed the book first. (I’m sure those grandmothers were headed towards it. I saw that “Sir Arthur C. Clarke is dreamy!” look in their eyes.) And that’s the story of how I scored a good-condition hardcover of The View of Serendip for a single dollar. Hooray for used book sales at public libraries!

I’ve shared the above story in lieu of a review that would inevitably wind up being a love fest for one of my favorite authors. But I’ll add this: The View From Serendip is one of those great books that reminds me of the worthy writings of the late Carl Sagan. In contrast to the stereotype of godless scientists performing insidious research, this book reveals the scientific mind I more commonly encounter: one which is ethical, hope-driven, and which has a passionate desire to see humanity grow, mature, and prosper.

View all my reviews

'Obama's Wars': A Good Read About Bad Wars

2010-12-04T13:14:00.000-08:00

Obama's Wars by Bob Woodward
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The title of this book is perfect: Obama’s Wars. Bob Woodward gives us a detailed account of President Obama taking ownership of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Obama also takes charge of internal strife between bickering branches and rival departments of our government and military.

Obama’s Wars is not a fun or exciting book, even during its most engrossing passages. But I can see it being a worthwhile read even for a person who skims a few chapters, becomes overwhelmed by the political complexity, and then gives up reading it. At least that person might come away with greater empathy for our leaders. (We could all use a bit more empathy in this nation.) The world of international relations is a messy one. Suffice it to say, if you think the war in Afghanistan is or should be solely about defeating al Qaeda, you are grossly uninformed.

My primary frustration with Obama’s Wars, though not necessarily a criticism of it, is the degree to which Mr. Woodward remains detached from his subject. I feel a bit sheepish admitting this. But there were times I wished Woodward had held my hand a bit more in terms of providing thematic subtext. Yes, I can tell that General X said something that upset Diplomat Y during a secret meeting. But I don’t fully grasp how it relates to the larger issues, let alone the interpersonal ones.

Nonetheless, I came to understand how President Obama’s cerebral nature is a much needed strategic boon but often a tactical stumbling block. Though, as I’d hoped, the book provides a favorable portrait. Woodward's research largely vindicates our President as engaged, hardworking, astute, and a much-needed antidote to the hotheaded cowboy mentality that got us into these wars.

I also developed a tempered appreciation for our nation’s generals, including the oft lionized General David Petraeus and the controversial General Stanley McChrystal. In the book, these men come across as extremely driven and devoted leaders, even when they find themselves at odds with the President. This isn’t a one-sided, absolutist account of who is right and who is wrong. In other words, this book is great reporting.

Ultimately, I found Obama’s Wars very sobering. It reveals how dangerous our world is—a place where geographic borders have become less relevant, but where the personalities in charge remain fiercely nationalistic, even tribal (and no I don’t just mean the Taliban). So I’ll continue paying my taxes and giving to non-profits. And I’ll keep trying to be a person who doesn’t deserve to be attacked and not one who is quick to make war. Because war—that is, politics through violence—always ends up ugly, even when prosecuted by the best of humans.

Note regarding the hardbound edition: This book includes two extremely helpful sections: 1) A Glossary; 2) A Cast of Characters

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My Unexpectedly Romantic Visit with 'Imperial Earth'

2010-11-23T16:14:00.000-08:00

Imperial Earth by Arthur C. Clarke
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Unexpectedly romantic are the words that describe Imperial Earth. For many years I have known this novel only by its title. Based on that title, I had assumed the novel would feel bold and grandiose in every respect. So I was not prepared for how unexpectedly intimate and introspective it is.

If novels like 2001 and Rendezvous with Rama are operas, Imperial Earth is more of a play. And I love a good play. Get me musing about deep aspects of humanity and science, and I will pardon the absence of a climactic spectacle. That is not to say that Imperial Earth lacks adventure. The first third of the novel, depicting life on Titan and a voyage to Earth in 2276 (think Quincentennial) is enthralling.

The ideas and themes of Imperial Earth are similar to 2001 and Rendezvous with Rama. But those novels portray actual ‘first contact’ scenarios. Imperial Earth explores why we haven’t had first contact and might never. Hence, the novel delivers a generally bittersweet portrait of humanity as a species who is as likely to fizzle out as blow itself to smithereens. However, I am not saying the novel is a universal downer.

As a serious Arthur C. Clarke fan, I relished how he explores the potential of radio technology along with the continued relevance of the oceans to humanity’s potential. Clarke masterfully weaves them together to develop the plot and leave readers pondering. The result is a surprisingly poetic lesson about how the frontiers of the past can become the decadent cesspools of the present.

This is also one of the more prophetic of Clarke’s novels. Written in the 70s, Clarke is already able to anticipate the long-term decline in pioneering that will--and did--follow the Apollo space program. And though he lacks the vernacular of “smart phones”, Clarke tellingly depicts an Earth culture that has developed a fetish-level dependence on communications technology.

I can’t say that I felt this novel was a masterpiece, but neither would I dare regard it as one of Clarke’s lesser works. Imperial Earth is high-quality science fiction. Clarke grapples with humankind’s potential by depicting the external and internal stumbling blocks we must overcome to succeed as a species…or rather, to continue succeeding.

Bottom line: If you are a Clarke fan, don’t miss this one. It might not wind up your favorite, but Imperial Earth is Arthur C. Clarke in his prime—both as a novelist and a thinker.

View all my reviews

Sailing Melville's Fateful Ocean of a Novel

2010-11-14T08:00:00.000-08:00

Moby-Dick or, The Whale by Herman Melville
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I came to this novel a cynical man. And when I had slogged about two-thirds of the way through Moby Dick, I started drafting a cynical review. It went something like this:

If the film Rocky had been written by Herman Melville, the first 14 rounds of the big fight would involve Rocky and Apollo Creed dancing around the ring, sermonizing at great length on the glory of being gallant gladiators, all the while never throwing a punch. Finally, in the 15th round, Rocky’s cranky old manager Micky, fed up with the endless posturing, would jump in the ring and take a swing at Apollo. And as Apollo proceeds to kick the crap out of the old man, Rocky would hide in his trusty spit bucket. The End.

Moby Dick is a problematic novel. And now that I have read the whole thing, that makes me ache inside. Because I wonder if Melville went to his grave knowing just how close he came to writing the undisputed great American epic. He did not, but he came very close.

Though the central story is classic--and hopefully the iconic image of vengeful Ahab chasing the white whale will forever be imbedded in American culture--the novel itself is not an indisputable masterpiece. Nothing that is as rambling, verily overflowing with encyclopedic tedium, can be called an indisputable masterpiece—at least, not if it is graded as a novel.

Much of Moby Dick is historical and cultural discourse about whaling. These extensive diversions deprive the plot of needed rhythm and flow until late in the novel. What is more, Melville’s sentimental, alliteration-laden prose reads overly extravagant by contemporary standards. His writing also betrays an antiquated attitude--hopefully antiquated--toward issues of race and gender. This too undercuts the novel’s timelessness, and thus its eligibility to be the undisputed great American epic.

All that said, in the last hundred pages, Melville makes it all worth it. This section moved me as much as any book I have ever read. And had I not sailed two-thirds of the way round the world with Ishmael talking my ear off about whaling trivia, I don’t think I would have been as mesmerized as I became. When the Pequod finally reached the haunted whaling grounds of the Pacific, I, like the weary crew, was ready to see Ahab’s obsessive quest to its end, come what may.

In Melville’s defense, this novel is strewn with brilliant proverbial gems. I did a lot of underlining in my Borders Classics edition. In particular, the opening paragraph is a phenomenal preamble. I plan to read this novel again, free of the distraction of expectations. For though it requires a fisherman’s patience, I consider it a privilege to set sail with Melville. His epic expertly captures the American spirit and ego in all their strength and vulnerability. If you have not slogged through Moby Dick, you have missed something special.

View all my reviews

The Educational Incentive Behind Solar Sails

2010-11-09T16:00:00.000-08:00

For this post, I'm happy to turn the reins of writing over to a young lady, an 11-year-old one. Victoria Robinson recently had her essay about solar sailing published online by The Planetary Society. The essay relates her experience of attending a Solar Sail Symposium in New York City.

Victoria's essay isn't simply a kid's take on science. It's also an account of how education and volunteerism have provided her with many great father-daughter moments, including a trip to The Big Apple to meet tennis superstar Venus Williams. She also got a chance to visit with Bill Nye the Science Guy.

I invite you to take a couple of minutes to read Victoria's essay by clicking on the link below:

My First Solar Sail Symposium, July 26, 2010

Lastly, this post is part of a series I am doing dedicated to solar sailing. Here are my previous posts on the subject:

Harnessing "The Wind From the Sun"
Come Sail Away with Bradbury and Post...and Me

Childe Jake Narrowly Avoids Overturned Election Booth

2010-11-02T16:43:00.000-07:00

As Reported by the Associative Press:

In one of the first upsets of the 2010 General Election, Childe Jake upset the table his makeshift voter booth was situated on. The tri-fold cardboard divider, erected to ensure voter privacy, sat on a narrow table in the community center where Washtenaw County residents vote.

Late in the process of filling in bubbles on his ballot, Jake reportedly applied enough pressure on his pen to cause the tabletop to tip toward him. This in turn sent the privacy divider rushing towards his face.

Said the amateur blogger, "I was voting on County Proposal A to preserve natural areas and I guess I got a little excited."

An expert on tabletops that have not been properly fastened down says an incident like this was bound to happen sooner or later. "Given how hard Jake was pressing down on the ballot with his pen, I'm not surprised the tri-fold privacy divider catapulted toward his face with such velocity."

Election officials at the small-town polling station confirmed that the near collapse of Jake's voting booth caused a loud enough ruckus that all dozen or so people in the room stopped what they were doing and stared.

Said one election employee, "I just figured...Gosh. Voters really are angry."

Jake was able to right the cardboard divider and complete his voting without further incident.

An Endorsement for the League of Women Voters of Michigan

2010-10-31T13:52:00.000-07:00

I don't know how you folks who watch television keep from shooting yourselves during election years. Now, I don't mean fatally shooting yourselves. That would be crazy. I just mean firing a single low-caliber round into your foot to see if you can still feel anything.

I make the above jest after having watched a single evening of regularly scheduled television programming last week. It wasn’t the programs that upset me. What overcame my peace of mind was the cavalcade of angry, spiteful, mildly-factual-at-best political ads (and not just the ones funded by right wing folk).

A bit of background:

For reasons ranging from budget to personal taste, I don't get television in my apartment. I have a TV set. But it isn't hooked up to satellite or cable. And I've never gotten around to updating my antenna to digital. Oh, I get the news. In fact, thanks to NPR and reading newsprint articles, I assert that I am better informed than many TV watchers.

Still, on nights I use the Laundromat, I enjoy catching some TV. It takes me one hour of local and national news plus two game shows to wash, dry, and fold. Lame as that may sound, I’ve found it’s a decent way to spend an evening. I even look forward to it. Last week, however, watching TV at the Laundromat was an ordeal.

During each commercial break, as negative political ads followed one after another, I felt cynicism welling up in me. It couldn’t be helped. Watch that much negativism in super-concentrated doses, and you grow embittered. Viewing ultra-violent films and porn couldn't be any less healthy. At least the makers of that fare admit their work is sensational fiction.

That said, I want to plug a great information source that is free, user-friendly, and extremely helpful to citizens: The League of Women Voters. In the 21st century, the gender-centric title is a bit of a misnomer. This nonpartisan organization seeks to educate all voters. Still, in 1920 when our federal government finally got around to granting women the right to vote, it was the perfect name.

I first picked up a copy of the league’s Voter Guide from a pile of them in my college dorm. Ever since, I’ve regarded it as must-read political literature. The League’s printed Voter Guide, true to its claims, provides a concise nonpartisan primer on candidates for each federal and state category. This includes judges and statewide ballot proposals. Candidates are given three basic questions related to the position they are running for, and the League prints their brief responses. At least, that's what the local league in Michigan does.

The political ads, by fondling base impulses, tried to convince me this election is a do-or-die end game. The League of Women Voters reminded me it’s not. Elections are part of an ongoing process that does not begin or end with any one election cycle. So if you feel discouraged or overwhelmed, know that you are not alone. Also know that, depending on when you read this, you still have a full day or maybe a couple of hours to pick up a Voter Guide, or read up online. Find a local league here. Michigan has one worth bragging about in my opinion. Take it from me, it beats watching the television ads.

The Best of Facebook Status Updates

2010-10-24T11:41:00.000-07:00

Earlier this year I finally signed up for Facebook. I was a latecomer. And I'm proud of that fact. In any case, upon joining Facebook, I soon discovered the joy of posting Status Updates. These are short posts detailing where you are, what you are doing, and how these facts expose the idiocy of people with opposing viewpoints.

Below is a sampling of my Status Updates since joining Facebook. At their best, these are profound slices of my life--pure distillations of existence marked by wit and frankness. At worst, they serve as a troubling indication that--thanks to the Internet--my social life now resembles a trite and rather mundane knock-off of an Oscar Wilde play. I share them for your enjoyment, and with the deep and abiding hope that you will leave comments, thus adding to the attention these have already gotten me on Facebook.

And now, in no particular order, I give you the best of Childe Jake's Status Updates. For added fun, guess which of these successfully caused one of my friends to choke on her coffee:

From my window side table in the coffee shop I spy a cat on a window sill for whom Sunday morning is all about monitoring the birds fluttering about a nearby tree. And I thought I looked serious sitting here reading Milton.
Suddenly, I find myself filled with a deep desire to drop everything and go watch "Bill Cosby: Himself."
Dictionary.com turned off the comment option on their Word of the Day post. That is so lugubrious.
Stupid Culinary Trick: By combining mayo, pepperoni and sharp cheddar, you can create a sandwich that tastes exactly like the Chef Boyardee you didn't bring to work because you weren't in the mood for it.
I'm pretty sure I'm witnessing the squirrel equivalent of Fight Club on my neighbor's lawn. (Wait, am I not supposed to talk about this?)
"Oops! I did it again. I played with your heart. Got lost in the game. Oh, baby, bab..." Okay, I fell asleep last night listening to NPR Classical. Would somebody please explain how I woke up with that song stuck in my head?
My toe itches.
While grocery shopping I was annoyed to see Sports Illustrated's new "Swimsuit Issue" for sale. It's tacky, monopolizes shelf space better reserved for legitimate journalistic publications. Plus, it totally threw off my grocery budget.
A turtle charged me on the hiking trail today, which caused me great reflection while he was doing it.
Nephew says impatiently, "Why can't all cars go 70 mph?" Uncle replies coolly, "One day when you are a 70-year-old woman you will understand."
So much for saying it only happens in the movies. I sat on a bench and a bird pooped on my shoulder. Didn't get a good look to see what kind of bird, but I'm pretty sure it was a vegetarian.
Just finished munching on an Asiago Cheese demi-loaf. That leaves about 10 more minutes open for anyone who needs something, has ever wanted to catch me in a life-affirming mood, or just feels chatty.
Frick! The library just sent me a notice saying I have to return Kate Beckinsale...I mean Underworld.
If those darn scientists dare disprove the existence of Triceratops (my favorite dinosaur) I swear I'm gonna...I'm...I'll move to Canada!

Childe Jake Ends Bid to Replace Charity Nebbe at Michigan Radio

2010-10-17T10:43:00.000-07:00

As reported by the Associative Press:

In the first major concession speech of the 2010 General Election, blogger Childe Jake has conceded defeat to Jennifer White in the race to become Michigan Radio's newest on-air host. With this victory, Ms. White is now the undisputed host of the weekday afternoon show: All Things Considered.

Jake suspended his campaign over the weekend, citing the need for Michigan Radio members to unite for the fall membership drive. Unnamed sources also confirmed that Jake's campaign suffered from a dwindling war chest, a lack of support outside of his apartment, and the fact that Jennifer White was officially hired about two months ago after an extensive national talent search.

Flanked by a local supporter from the Chelsea Teddy Bear Company, blogger Childe Jake concedes defeat to Michigan Radio's Jennifer White. Off-camera is senior political analyst Jack Lessenberry. (At time of publication, Jake was unable to confirm exactly how far off-camera Mr. Lessenberry was.)

It was five months ago that Childe Jake began his quest to snag the high profile radio job. He did so via a momentous blog post: Why I Should Replace Charity Nebbe on Michigan Radio. In the wake of that very-nearly-viral blog entry, Ms. Nebbe publicly expressed support for Jake receiving a job interview. Still, Jake's campaign quickly foundered.

Earlier today, Childe Jake held a press conference at his campaign headquarters in Washtenaw County. Surrounded by his supporter, Jake delivered a stirring and sometimes emotional concession speech:

“Friends and fellow public radio listeners, I stand before you today with a heavy heart.

A few minutes ago I had the privilege of speaking with a person I have spent the past few months debating. This person is more than just an opponent. He is my neighbor. In return for me not blasting my radio during the Powdermilk Biscuit Song on Prairie Home Companion, he has agreed to vacate our shared patio long enough for me to deliver my concession speech. This accord reached, I will now proceed with my prepared remarks:

When I began my quest to succeed Charity Nebbe at Michigan Radio, I did so out of a sense of duty. I saw my bid as a histor…pardon me, an historic opportunity to end business as usual. For too long now, public radio has teemed exclusively with trained journalists. As such, our precious airwaves have remained subject to a status quo of in-depth coverage, balanced commentary, and rigorous fact checking. As an amateur blogger--but more crucially as one who knows personally the frustration of every Michigander who lacks reserved parking during the Ann Arbor Art Fair--I felt it was time to offer listeners a choice.

Now the Michigan Radio hiring committee has spoken. And while I disagree with their decision, I will abide by it. For the sake of station unity, I offer my concession to Ms. White. I have heard it said that in an American election there are never losers. Those words, eloquently coined by a past non-winner, provide me solace today.

Standing here in the chill of an autumn breeze, I am reminded of another chilly morning this past spring when I volunteered at the Michigan Radio studios. In the predawn drizzle, all I could think about was scoring a cup of hot coffee and a comfortable seat in the station's phone bank. At that moment, a Michigan Radio employee buzzed passed me wide awake and smiling. Even at 5:50 am, her very aspect exuded a genuine enthusiasm for the mission of listener-supported public radio--a mission to provide the best in educational programming and broadcast journalism.

Thinking back on that brief encounter, I can only say, "Congratulations, Jennifer White. I'll catch you on the drive home!"

Come Sail Away with Bradbury and Post...and Me

2010-10-10T13:40:00.000-07:00

Returning to the Elegant Subject of Solar Sails

This is life itself, to onward fly
A boy alone with Universe
who knows that he must go into the dark.

Before I explain the above poetry quotation, I have a confession. Sometimes I get sick of reading about space exploration. Albeit hypocritically, I often tire of reading the very kind of cosmic blogging I tend to do myself--subjective and sentimental pro-NASA/pro-space rhetoric. Here is an example from one of my favorite TV shows, The West Wing.

One of The West Wing's most haunting episodes is entitled "The Warfare of Genghis Khan." Though the central plotline involves nuclear arms proliferation, a key subplot depicts a NASA employee befriending White House senior staffer Josh Lyman. Initially Josh is cynical about NASA, but soon he is won over by some good old-fashioned space evangelism and a boyish peek through a telescope. Sound naive? I think it does.

Why should we go to Mars, Josh asks. And the brilliant NASA scientist replies…adventure will nourish humanity's soul. Ug. Is this really the best reason a NASA employee, albeit a fictional one created by talented TV writers, can come up with? From a show of such indisputable intelligence, I expected reasoning that was more nuanced and politically savvy. Still, methinks I wax too grumpy.

Inspiring the public is a valid (if belabored) rationale for exploring space. On The West Wing, this reasoning pays dramatic dividends when Josh's newfound enthusiasm for NASA runs headlong into the episode's titular plotline about warfare. As Josh portends, in a world fraught with violent selfishness there is something "generous" about marshalling resources for peaceful exploration.

This brings me to the above poetry excerpt, which comes from a wonderful piece co-authored by Ray Bradbury and Jonathan V. Post: "To Sail Beyond the Sun (A Luminous Collage)." Even though I’ve been a space enthusiast for decades, I only discovered this 20-year-old poem a few months ago. It was published in 1990 as part of a collection entitled: Project Solar Sail.

I became aware of this book through the Fans of Arthur C. Clarke group on Goodreads.com. Sir Arthur edited this collection of original works by leading science writers. The published book was a fundraising effort to build support for a solar sail mission.

Recently, I scored an original copy on eBay. And over the last few days, I have read and reread Bradbury and Post's "To Sail Beyond the Sun (A Luminous Collage)." The poem's conceit, as I take it, is that humans are like solar sails. Fashioned from base material, we have proven sea-worthy, or rather, star-worthy. In coming weeks and months, I intend to read Project Solar Sail in its entirety, and pass on some of its rhetorical and practical value via this blog. For personal background, I hope you will read a previous blog post: Harnessing the Wind from the Sun.

For now I affirm a belief held by many space enthusiasts today. We humans are quite beautiful and precious, yet we remain coarse and superstitious children clinging to a small blue orb. Admitting that humble reality and then engaging in vigorous exploration can refine us into something even better. As cosmic poets Bradbury and Post express it:

We are the energy of Shakespeare's verse,
we are what mathematics wants to be--
The Life Force in the Universe
That longs to See!
That would Become
and give a voice to matter that was dumb.

We are, to the gates of gravity, the keys ...

Revisiting the Waterloo-Pinckney Trail for Surcease

2010-10-03T06:00:00.000-07:00

Trust me. The view will get better if you keep reading.

I always feel like I'm repenting when I go hiking. With the exception of this past June, my hikes have usually been preceded by much procrastinating. My body is too easily disposed to lethargy, and reaching my mid-30s has not helped. With some ironical gratitude, I thank Michigan's Democrat and Republican gubernatorial candidates for getting me back out on the trail.

The two guys fighting it out for governor in Michigan have both demonstrated weak negotiating skills by initially failing--and then barely managing--to negotiate one measly debate. With big money playing an even bigger role in this election, debates are essential to provide the public a reasonable chance to evaluate the actual candidates. But if these two men can't even agree on a set of debates with each other, can we expect them to be any better at negotiating a state budget with scores of opponents and a multitude of competing interests?

After spending a few hours over several days familiarizing myself with candidates, I felt dispirited. And this gave me the needed shove to get back out on the hiking trail. Yesterday I came home from the office, changed into hiking attire, hastily made a peanut butter sandwich for supper, and headed back to the Waterloo-Pinckney Trail.

Many sections of the trail effectively belong to hunters until April. Nevertheless, several safe trail heads remain available beginning at the Gerald Eddy Discover Center. I did the Lakeview Trail, a horseshoe-shaped byway that skirts lovely Mill Lake. Here is a peek at what Mother Earth offered this weary pilgrim.

With leaves changing colors, a rich golden shimmer penetrated the forest in sporadic patches. On a cool Wednesday evening, I had the trail to myself--at least as far as human contact is concerned. I never hiked more than a few yards without hearing a rush of leaves as a nearby chipmunk or squirrel darted out of sight. The funny thing is, in the thick underbrush, I didn't even notice them until I heard them scurrying away. I even stirred up a doe as I headed to my favorite spot along the Mill Lake shoreline.

Why do I have to cajole myself into taking a couple hours every week to visit this place? Can I really be that wrapped up in the mess of our "civilized world"? I can. We all can. People who are passionate, people who give a damn--each of us is susceptible to being overcome by the unhealthy frenzy of a general election’s closing weeks.

So if, like me, you catch yourself getting feverishly frustrated with the election, take a breath. Better yet, take a walk. You will see this country is still big enough and rich enough to sustain us all. It is a durable landscape capable of supporting people with conflicting views. Still, to keep a level head in days to come, I expect I'll need a few more excursions to enjoy what Lord Byron called, "the pleasure in the pathless woods." If you are reading this blog, whatever segment of the political spectrum you fall within, I encourage you to do the same.

Jake gets Legit with the Folks at Technorati.com

2010-09-29T08:53:00.000-07:00

87CFFVDZ7MFM

Dear Readers, the above code constitutes my shameless attempt to enter the radar screen of Technorati.com. Have no fear. My regular blogging continues here. If you haven't yet read it, please take notice of my book giveaway on Goodreads.com. This giveaway is in support of author Jo Carson, who is fighting cancer.

If the above code, and my vain attempts to get more readers, are still troubling you, please reread my post on how to snuggle. Peace out!

A Book Giveaway for Author Jo Carson on Goodreads.com

2010-09-26T13:55:00.000-07:00

Update: 9/26/11

Jo Carson passed away a few days ago. As the below post indicates, I encountered her writing through NPR's host and writer Peter Sagal. His remembrance of Ms. Carson is available here:

For Jo

The below giveaway has ended. I will be mailing copies to the winners this weekend. Thank you to the over 700 people who entered for a chance to win.

I am sponsoring a book giveaway on Goodreads.com to support author Jo Carson's personal fight against cancer.

Jo Carson, as a writing talent and person coping with cancer, was brought to my attention by Peter Sagal, host of NPR's hit show Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me! They are friends, and she was a mentor to Peter back in the day. He shared Ms. Carson's story with readers on his blog and asked us to consider making a donation to a support fund.

As an extension of my blogging activities, I've set up a giveaway so a couple of readers will have a chance to try out Jo Carson's work. You can follow the link below to enter the giveaway. Please note, this requires signing up to have a free account on Goodreads.com. This is a fun social networking sight dedicated to books. So I encourage you to sign up anyway.
I also invite you to read my review of this excellent book at Goodreads.com: Teller Tales by Joe Carson

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Teller Tales

by Jo Carson

Giveaway ends October 14, 2010.
See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

Fosgitt's 'Little Green Men' is Wacky Space-age Fun

2010-09-21T15:56:00.000-07:00

Little Green Men by Jay P. Fosgitt

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

My only gripe with this delightful comic adventure is its indistinctive title: Little Green Men. Used so often in pop culture as to be belabored, “little green men” doesn't strike me in the way great titles do. This is a minor concern though, because it is a wonderful read. I give Little Green Men a very enthusiastic four stars and highly recommend it.

This is emerging talent Jay Fosgitt's second full-length offering. It is actually a compilation of several mini-adventures originally published online through Ape Entertainment. I also recommend Fosgitt's first outing: Dead Duck. Little Green Men is a different story with different characters. It is also lighter fare and offers a faster paced and generally livelier plotline (pun intended).

Working with characters created by Brent Erwin and David Hedgecock, Mr. Fosgitt takes this alien trio on an adventure titled “Go Big or Go Home.” This grand tour of Earth's exotic culture as scene from an alien perspective is at once a charming tale, a goofy excursion, and a witty lampoon of pop culture. One of the biggest strengths of Little Green Men is how distinct the three little aliens are from each other. Each serves as a hilarious foil for the other two. They are also joined by a fourth colorful character, their rather sassy spaceship.

My favorite outing involves the aliens happening upon a Renaissance Festival and mistakenly assuming they've gone back in time. Not only is the ensuing battle hilarious, it's exciting, swashbuckling action on a par with established superhero comics. If you are a comic book fan, you should definitely give Jay Fosgitt's work a try. Regardless, Little Green Men is a story anyone can enjoy. I say get Little Green Men...before they get us.

View all my reviews

A Naked Angel and Little Green Men Cause Thoughts of Dead Duck in Ann Arbor, Michigan

2010-09-16T17:37:00.000-07:00

Every blogger hopes for the supreme blogging miracle. I mean of course when a chosen topic simultaneously offers both a catchy title and key words guaranteed to boost the blog's search ranking. This is such a blog post. Now here is the bonus. I get to plug new works by two artists I personally know and admire.

Naked Angel Coming Soon

A couple of years back I acted in a play called Blue Surge at the Blackbird Theatre in Ann Arbor. This gave me the opportunity to work with a fine young actress named Cameron Watkins. Since then, Cameron has scored a big role in the feature film Naked Angel. (For my part, I followed up our joint Blackbird debut by purchasing three DVD box sets of Dr. Who.)

Naked Angel stars James Duval, who cult film fans will recognize from Donnie Darko. All remaining film fans will likely remember him as the oldest son of Randy Quaid's quirky character in Independence Day. Here is Naked Angel's premise as listed on the film's IMDB entry:

A man who wants to let go of life [Duval] falls in love with an angel who longs to be human [Watkins] and is inspired to live again.

Here is where I try to score a future hug by saying that the lovely Cameron didn't even have to act in the film because she is already an angel. Ticket information for the sneak preview--with director and cast members in attendance--can be found at Michigan Theatre's website. And now, I invite you to watch the trailer for Naked Angel:

Little Green Men For Sale

In the realm of comic books and graphic novels, Ann Arbor-based artist Jay Fosgitt has just published his second work, Little Green Men. My pre-ordered copy arrived earlier today at a nearby Borders in Ann Arbor (where I had it sent to score free shipping). So I haven't read Little Green Men yet. Still, I'm betting it totally frickin' debunks astrophysicist Stephen Hawking's claim that humans don't have what it takes to face aliens. Already available is Jay's first graphic novel, Dead Duck. The following is an excerpt from my unabashedly biased rave:

Dead Duck by Jay P. Fosgitt
What is Dead Duck? In a nut shell, or egg shell rather, it’s a small water fowl that is…well…not living. Raised and employed by Death itself, Dead Duck collects deceased souls and delivers them to the afterlife. ....

Creator Fosgitt taps into our popular culture with a hilarious offering of subtle references, goofy tributes, and witty satire. It all kept me chuckling to the last page. A major part of the fun is the richly detailed artwork. It spurns decorum, all the while rewarding the reader’s intelligence with something more than mindless bathroom humor. (I’m not saying that bathroom humor is absent, just that it isn’t relied on). Much of the funniest content shows up in the background, so it’s a good idea not to digest Dead Duck too quickly. ...

Disclaimer:
I, Childe Jake, have not received gifts in exchange for the above promotional blogging...which is not to say I wouldn't have accepted gifts, even moderately priced ones, y'know, for my trouble. After all, I sacrificed an evening of Dr. Who reruns to write this blog.

Childe Jake Talks up Childe Harold, but First...

2010-09-07T16:44:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow, September 8th, is International Literacy Day. I confess this is a day I’ve never paid special attention to. My excuse is that I cherish literacy every day. The blunt truth is that, like so many other "increasing awareness" days, I just haven’t made any time for it before. But let's avoid feeling guilty. If you pay taxes as a U.S. citizen, read books to children, or pay back student loans, you are already playing a key role in increasing literacy. Pat yourself on the back. The question is, are you willing to do something extra? Below are two simple things I’ve done in the past year that felt great.

My first suggestion is make a donation to your local public library. Don’t just donate old books for the used book sale--the literary equivalent of donating unwanted canned vegetables to a food drive. Actually make a monetary donation to your library. My other suggestion is even simpler. Make a special trip to a store that sells print material and buy some. Don't just read for free online and assume that advertising dollars will keep quality publications accessible to all. Actually go to a physical book store and buy a book, magazine, or newspaper. By purchasing print material in person, you help sustain the marketplace that supplies literature to people who do not have Internet access at home.

One of the blessings I’ve enjoyed thanks to literacy is developing this blog. I am working on a post to explain why I chose the blog name Childe Jake’s Pilgrimage. Since it is not ready yet, I am posting my short review of Lord Byron’s masterful poem: Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. This is one of my favorite literary works, and certainly my favorite poem by Lord Byron. Below are some reasons why.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage by George Gordon Byron

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This is my favorite work by Lord Byron. Hands down. No contest. I revisit it often to read favorite sections.

Via the character of Childe Harold, and later simply as himself, Byron explores the world. He visits places like Spain, Turkey, and of course, Greece. He also muses on great historical figures like Napoleon. Think of this as the ultimate road trip epic, set via 19th Century Romanticism. Do you like movies like Easy Rider? This work is in the same vein.

The language is more accessible than Shakespeare. Still, I recommend picking up a well-footnoted edition, and keeping a dictionary handy. Often, Byron uses words differently than we do today. So it is worth referencing archaic definitions that add fascinating layers to the text.

Wish you could meet Byron and interact with him in person? Read this pilgrimage poem.

View all my reviews

Harnessing "The Wind From the Sun"

2010-08-31T16:40:00.000-07:00

Look closely at the photo below and you will see people walking around what appears to be the mother of all TV dinners. In truth, the triangular sheets are not a TV dinner. They are something better. Perhaps for the first time, but almost certainly not for the last, you are looking at a solar sail.

Photo Credit: NASA

The above solar sail measures 66 feet on a side. Click here for the full caption provided by NASA. In part it reads, "Much like the wind pushing a sailboat through water, solar sails rely on sunlight to propel vehicles through space. The sail captures constantly streaming solar particles..." To be clear, solar wind is real. And for the first time, it has been utilized in actual spaceflight. Given this is an election year, I take some wry glee in pointing out that the first country to have successfully incorporated solar sail technology into space flight is neither the U.S. nor Russia. It is Japan. They did it earlier this summer.

My first exposure to solar sails came via a delightful short story by Arthur C. Clarke: "The Wind From the Sun." My memory is patchy, but I likely found the story in a bound collection borrowed from the public library when I was in junior high school. Perhaps I read it in this volume. (The short story was originally published in Boy's Life in 1964.) Regardless, Clarke's story enchanted me then, and enchants me even more today.

What I love about "The Wind from the Sun" is its sense of scale. The protagonist, John Merton, pilots a two-square-mile solar sail in a yacht race to the Moon. He competes against international rivals and faces the threat of a devastating solar flare during the race. It's exciting fiction and holds up very well over four decades later. Plus, you don't need to be a sci-fi geek to enjoy it. You only need to know that Clarke, in 1964, imagined a technology and space culture that is now becoming reality. "The Wind From the Sun" presciently depicts a global space race and the rise of space tourism.

Still, it is a bit deflating to know that while Clarke's story is even more relevant today, most of the research is still being done on the ground. However, I am excited to say that the United States may soon join Japan in testing solar sail technology in space. We are one rocket launch away. And the organization spearheading the mission is not NASA. It is The Planetary Society, co-founded by Carl Sagan.

Like many other enthusiasts, I'm not content with the tiny portion of my tax dollars allocated for space exploration. (Trust me, the portion of your personal tax contribution to NASA is tiny.) So I regularly make tax-deductible donations to projects like LightSail. Click this next link to see a wonderful artist's depiction of the solar sail our Society is helping build. By starting small, the Planetary Society can piggyback LightSail-1 on a rocket launch by NASA or another space agency in the near future. Call it cosmic carpooling.

In the meantime, there is Clarke's wonderful story "The Wind from the Sun" to enjoy. Without giving away the ending, I'd like to share a short excerpt. It describes the poignant moment when John Merton exits his solar wind-borne craft "Diana" for the last time. By opening the air lock, he uses the release of air to nudge the sail forward.

"The thrust he gave her then was his last gift to Diana. She dwindled away from him, sail glittering splendidly in the sunlight..."

Has Merton won the race? Has he lost? Will he or his solar sail even survive? You'll have to read the story to find out. In any case, the greater real-life tale is only beginning.

Office Copier Tips (Redacted)

2010-08-24T15:24:00.000-07:00

The office I work at purchased a new copy machine. Our company president asked me to study the manual and draft a memo of tips and tricks for using the new copier. I did so in a prompt and professional manner. Still, possessing an English Major brain, I had to censor myself and refrain from including literary embellishments.

What follows is the complete version of my memo. The redacted portions have lines through them. Since it wouldn't have been appropriate to circulate this version to the office staff, I've chosen instead to publish it on the Internet.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dear Staff,
Here are some notes about our new copier we should all be aware of ~~before disregarding~~:

I’ve pinned up ~~some hot n’ sexy~~ instructions for replacing toner. These include a list of Common Error Codes ~~which we will manage to outdo by discovering a new error that no mortal has ever troubleshot before~~.

There is also a handout called “Getting to Know Your Machine” ~~(lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II).~~ This includes diagrams for basic functions ~~(like #2)~~:

Loading new paper
Removing ~~that~~ paper after it jams
A key for the Touch~~y Feely~~ Panel Display
A basic Trouble Shooting Guide ~~for basic folk like yuhnmee!~~

The entire set of manuals can be found on the server ~~(if you are pure in heart)~~. They are as follows:

Operating Manual (The one you will actually need).
Digital Imaging & Networking Manuals (You shouldn’t need these~~, but go ahead and ask me perplexing questions about them so I yet again fail to make it to lunch with my ego intact~~).

This copier has multi-tasking capability. ~~I don’t and I’m proud of it.~~ So if Person A sends a digital document from her desk while Person B is manually copying ~~like the pioneers of old~~, the copier should finish one job and hold the other in memory until it can safely print ~~(thus eliminating thrown staplers and supervisors emerging from their offices to ask, “Who's swearing out here?”)~~.

Now, ~~please use caution when blowing off~~ some reminders about the Manual Feed Tray:

When using the Manual Feed Tray, do not use heavyweight paper, ~~your face,~~ carbon paper, ~~your butt,~~ or stapled paper.
Please smooth out creased paper to reduce copier wear and tear ~~(or don’t. Really, who ever got fired for this)~~.
Whenever copying onto cardstock, use the Bypass Tray on the right side of the copier. ~~Yes, your right.~~
WARNING: When ~~making face/ass copies~~ or removing jammed paper, pay attention to warning labels about how hot the machine gets.

There are two power buttons on this machine. One is on the lower front. The other is in back and is the “Main Power Switch.” Turn off the lower front switch first. ~~Stand up straight, rub your back, and miss being young.~~ Then turn off the main power switch. If there is a power outage, ~~refill your coffee before the pitcher cools and~~ turn the copier to off until the power returns.

That’s some basic stuff. ~~So feel stupid when you screw up anyway.~~ Please refer to the manual as needed.

Sincerely,

-Jake

Hiking The Waterloo-Pinckney Trail

2010-08-17T16:14:00.000-07:00

Let this be known as the summer I took hiking seriously. Well, okay--to appease fact checkers--let this be known as the summer I took hiking seriously in June and early July. After recently reading a handful of books on climbing Mount Everest, I resolved to embrace the outdoors. For me, the most immediate option is the Waterloo-Pinckney Trail.

This 36-mile trail meanders over glacier-crafted ridges, through thick woods and across marshy lowlands. It isn't a technically demanding trail, though it has plenty of topography. A hiker should bring plenty of water, a compass, and a reliable trail map. As the name indicates, the trail has two distinct sections. The longer of the two, at about 23 miles, is the Waterloo portion. I sought to complete this portion by hiking it in 3 to 6 mile sub-sections. (For a couch potato like me, that is ambitious.)

Above is perhaps the most tranquil spot on the W/P Trail. I took this photo from a secluded nook on the shoreline of Crooked Lake. (Note the absence of a rectangular shoreline.) In addition to cozy vistas, the trail also has its share of critters. Below is one of two turtles I encountered. He was quite shy, but I managed to grab this shot as he fled into the underbrush.

Though he looks big in this photo, don’t mistake this turtle for a tortoise. Although tortoises are technically turtles, they are much larger than the average turtle and hence more confident when dating. Now onto the ominous section of this blog post.

I felt pretty macho for continuing past the above sign. Plus, notice how the DNR mounted it so the hexagonal screw doubles as an unnecessary period. Punctuational coolness! Evident in the background is thick foliage typical of the Waterloo-Pinckney Trail. I recommend hiking it in pants, not shorts. Still, there are places where the landscape opens up and offers something approaching majesty.

Passing this marshy lowland, I closed in on my goal to complete the 23-mile Waterloo trail segment. An entourage of flies and mosquitoes urged me on like that crowd of cheering kids in the jogging montage of Rocky II. I swatted several of them (the mosquitoes).

Pictured below, Sackrider Hill is billed as the high point on the trail. I headed up Sackrider's wooded slope with that sense of anticipation one always feels when nearing a summit.

As you can see, it's a nice spot. No real view to speak of since the lookout tower is 10 feet shorter than the trees, but still a pleasant plot of ground. Reaching this low summit after a hike of maybe 40 yards from my car was a letdown. Frankly, it was so anticlimactic that I belched out a disappointed, “What the hell!” Then I learned an important hiking lesson. When emerging suddenly from tree cover—but prior to exclaiming ‘What the hell’--you should scan the clearing for couples enjoying a quiet picnic.

Completing the trail took several hikes. In addition to modest hills, there were other obstacles. Let's talk about getting your feet wet!

On my final hike, I had to wade through a flooded area (not deep, but sizable). Lacking proper footwear, I’d turned back from this obstacle on a previous trip. This time I came prepared. When I reached the flooded section I donned an old pair of Chucks. With the late morning sun rising high over my back, sloshing through the water felt great. I headed to a marker about a hundred yards up the trail and tagged it. That marked my completion of the Waterloo portion of the W/P Trail!

Here is me celebrating as I switched back into my dry footwear for a 6 mile return hike to my car. Not close to the magnitude of heroism shown by those who have climbed on Mount Everest, but still the picture of a truly happy boy. In full sincerity, the Waterloo-Pinckney Trail is a Michigan treasure. Anchored by lakes for boaters and swimmers, and with the Gerald E. Eddy Discover Center in the middle, it has provided me with many soul-feeding excursions. And I expect more to come as the cool breezes of autumn begin blowing across Lower Michigan.

Oh, If Understanding the Book of Mormon Were Enough

2010-08-06T14:48:00.000-07:00

Understanding the Book of Mormon by Grant Hardy

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

When it comes to scripture, I am devoutly skeptical. However, I generally appreciated Dr. Grant Hardy’s scholarly work Understanding the Book of Mormon. He reads the way I love to read. Hardy digs deep and buries himself in the text. He engages in thorough cross-referencing and rigorous comparing and contrasting.

To get the most out of Hardy’s analysis, I reread the Book of Mormon while reading his book. In particular, I found his assessments of Captain Moroni and the Book of Ether innovative. I also like how he takes both believers and non-believers to task for cherry picking passages they like and essentially dismissing the rest of the book. Still, I have serious concerns with Understanding the Book of Mormon.

Implicit in every chapter, and often explicit, is Dr. Hardy’s adoration of the Book of Mormon. This bias leaks into his textual analysis. Where the Book of Mormon exhibits literary weakness--as everyone from Moroni to Mark Twain agrees it does--Hardy backs away from his touted strategy of close textual reading. He even boasts of working from “gaps” and “omissions” in the text to beef up Nephi’s simplistic characters and one-sided storytelling.

It’s important to point out that Dr. Hardy focuses on the Book of Mormon’s narrative elements, not its theology. That is to say he primarily explores characters, events and, above all else, the narrative voices of Nephi, Mormon and Moroni. Hardy would have us believe that each narrator has a distinct voice. Certainly on a rudimentary level they do. As Hardy ably demonstrates, each narrator displays a basic awareness of his political and social surroundings.

But as Dr. Hardy points out, Mormon’s narration incorporates close to 200 “phrases he has picked up.” Hardy suggests this might be intentional use of “phrasal allusion.” The opposing argument, every bit as reasonable, is that the Book of Mormon narrators aren’t especially distinct. What is more, Hardy grudgingly admits that Moroni’s voice is even less distinctive than Mormon’s. He states that Moroni’s writing contains “…an unusually high proportion of phrases borrowed from previous Book of Mormon authors.”

Dr. Hardy seems to want it both ways. He digs deep to find textual evidence of unique voices. Yet elsewhere he confesses that “it is not always clear whether these kinds of verbal echoes are deliberate or whether Moroni is simply relying on common tropes….” Hardy buries one of his frankest confessions in the End Notes: "Latter-day Saints have long been wary of acknowledging just how much of the language of the Book of Mormon is derived from the Bible...."

Frankly, at the core of my criticism of Understanding the Book of Mormon is a suspicion. As Dr. Hardy makes clear in his Afterword, he doesn’t just want us to “understand” the Book of Mormon, he wants us to like it. Even if we don’t believe it, he wants us to hold it in high literary esteem. In short, Dr. Hardy wants learned skeptics like me to give the Book of Mormon more respect than it gives us. For the Book of Mormon narrators unmistakably promise stern eternal consequences to those who remain in unbelief.

Dr. Hardy rightly assesses the Book of Mormon as stubborn. Indeed, the Book of Mormon’s narrators demand nothing less than spiritual allegiance. So I find it foolhardy at best—and covertly evangelical at worst—that Hardy attempts to build a bridge between Lehi’s tree of spiritual fruit and that great and spacious building where worldly folk like me are said to dwell.

View all my reviews >>
UPDATE-9/20/10: My review came to the attention of the author, Dr. Grant Hardy. His response can be found at www.goodreads.com/review/show/108813190

Anatomy of a Snuggle

2010-07-19T15:46:00.000-07:00

A serious blogger I follow recently posted something light and a bit sophomoric. She did this to offset the stress she feels relative to recent political developments. It is an election year. That topic, and other heated ones, will be appearing in my blog soon as well. Therefore, in an effort to inject some lightness into the ether ahead of the ideological storm, I offer you today's blog: Anatomy of a Snuggle

I have intended for some time to blog on this subject. Snuggling, or "cuddlosis" as it was not called in ancient Greece, is an age-old method for providing comfort. It enables true bonding of friends and companions, especially after a crisis. Now, I am a writer. That’s how I enter the world, as a fictional Poet Laureate (played by the snuggable Laura Dern) once said on The West Wing. Yet, Blogging for Dummies assures me that words are not enough. To break down the essentials of snuggling I must employ pictures.

I am fortunate to have access to a talented model who is easy on the eyes. As models go she is quite affable. That helps the photo shoot go smoother. She is also petite, which makes it easier to keep her in frame. My budget for this photo shoot was limited, but thankfully this particular model has a thing for...well, for beef sticks. It sounds strange, but it's really quite charming to see how happy they make her.

Enough vamping. I invite you to scroll down and enjoy a short demonstration on safe and effective snuggling.
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I'd like you to meet Tiny, a longtime friend and current resident of Kentucky.

Whether you have had a hard day at the office, or been snubbed by several adults who are fawning over grandchildren, snuggling is a tried and true remedy. Yet always keep in mind that the need to snuggle comes from a place of vulnerability. So when approaching a soul in need, ask yourself: 'How do I initiate snuggling when the needy party is mired in jealousy and may rebuff my good intentions?'

A single hand placed softly on the shoulder is a safe and non-threatening way to query if snuggling is desired. CAUTION: Even if your initial hand touch is accepted, do not go right into snuggling. What is needed is a smooth transition--a chance for the grieved party to adjust from sorrow to comfort.

Wait for eye contact. Sometimes the right words just aren't there. Eye contact never fails to indicate if snuggling will be appreciated.

Authentic snuggling includes reciprocation. Anything less is a one-way act of charity at best. If you sense it becoming all about him/her, or even just about you, consider a kind word or a gentle pat on the back. Also, be aware that Tiny’s method of reciprocation has limited, and potentially awkward, applicability for human-to-human snuggling.

Ultimately, by utilizing kind gestures and open communication, you may reach that most prized of snuggling stages--repose. This is when eye-contact, gestures and even talking are no longer needed.

In closing, I thank my snuggling model Tiny. If you enjoyed her work, she can also be seen in last year's holiday opus: Upon Thanksgiving Day!

Praise for Japan's "Hayabusa" and a Reply to a Critic

2010-06-30T16:45:00.000-07:00

The photo below is not of a meteor. It is a human-made spacecraft intentionally reentering the Earth's atmosphere after a seven-year round trip journey.

Image Credit: NASA/Ed Schilling

Praise

"Hayabusa", as the Japanese probe is called, landed on an Earth-crossing asteroid and attempted to retrieve samples. It endured damaging solar flares, crippled engines, and a rough landing on the target asteroid. Hayabusa's adventure reads like an unmanned sendup of Apollo 13. Every time something went wrong, resilient engineers employed fixes and the mission continued. Hayabusa's last act was safely depositing a sample capsule, perhaps empty, on the Australian desert.

Though humankind is getting better at flying probes to asteroids, we still have a lot of work to do before humans make the trip. In the meantime, these science-based missions inspire me a great deal. Every day, probes and rovers continue exploring our solar system, bringing us closer to the moment when humans are ready to make the trip. For a wonderful account of this probe's tumultuous odyssey, and how it fits proudly into the bigger picture of space exploration, I recommend Louis D. Friedman's account entitled "The Hayabusa Adventure." It's a quick read.

A Reply

Not long ago, I was accused of being a sucker. It came anonymously in response to my blog post lauding President Obama’s plans for NASA. In part, the President’s strategy calls for increased reliance on private industry to build the powerful rockets needed for human spaceflight. Though not without risk, NASA's new direction has the potential to spur innovation and lower mission costs. After I blogged in praise of this approach, a comment was posted saying I’d been “suckered in!”

At the time, I did not reply. Frankly, I assumed “Anonymous” was just another Internet troll—a random visitor throwing a hotheaded and hasty jab and then running away. I was mistaken. It turns out my unnamed critic is someone I know personally, someone I respect. More importantly, he is a veteran employee of a major aerospace company (and heretofore NASA contractor). His job, and many others like it, are threatened by this retooling of our nation's space program.

Given this reality, I have finally posted a reply. I invite you to read it here. It is neither an apology nor a change of my position. Based on a great deal of reading, I remain optimistic about NASA's new direction. Still, it is important to acknowledge the upheaval being experienced by some of NASA's current contractors.

Suffice it to say that NASA remains at the fiscal mercy of Congress--a Congress that has now spent decades underfunding space exploration. Provided NASA receives the increased funding President Obama has called for, our nation's aerospace companies can expect continued opportunities to competitively bid for lucrative contracts.

What Kind of Dream Has It Been?

2010-06-19T10:31:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had a dream so incredible you felt sad upon waking up?
Ahem! Actually no, I’m not referring to sex dreams. This post is going to be about something better…well, that assertion may prove debatable. In any case, think of your favorite TV show. Think about what elements of that show make it so great to watch, so engrossing.

Recently I had an especially vivid and exciting dream based on one of my all-time favorite shows: The West Wing. As I was having it, the dream rivaled any TV/movie-based dream I've ever had. But from the moment I woke up until now, many days later, I have been drowning in sorrow. You see, my incredible West Wing dream resulted in tragic lost opportunity--an opportunity I may never get back.

Still, let’s first discuss the coolness of this dream. Over seven seasons, The West Wing proved just how entertaining and intelligent television drama can be. It followed the fictional presidency of Josiah Bartlett, portrayed by Martin Sheen. The show took audiences deep, physically and mentally, into the White House. By any standard, it boasted one of the best casts and writing teams (a la Aaron Sorkin) ever assembled for network TV drama.

I’ve certainly had dreams before that included motifs from The West Wing. As a devotee, I’ve been through the series three times on DVD. Of course the show has surfaced in my dreamscape—as I’m sure it does for anyone with a relapsing remitting crush on actress Allison Janney, who portrays the White House Press Secretary.

Let me be clear. Until last week, I’d never had a dream so vivid and well-constructed. In contrast to typical dreams where continuity runs amuck, or I wake up just before the good part, this dream played out like the best, most dramatic scenes in the show. The dream was almost perfect. Almost.

Once in REM state, I found myself in a closed-door meeting with White House Chief of Staff Leo McGarry and DCS Josh Lyman. On the real show, Leo McGarry was referred to as the second most powerful man in the world. And by the final episode, Josh Lyman had become the show’s main protagonist, rising to the position of Chief of Staff to President Bartlett’s successor. Here I was having a closed-door strategy meeting with arguably the most important characters in the entire series.

Replicating classic episodes, Leo, Josh and I wrangled over what strategy President Bartlett should take to handle a national crisis--something analogous to the Gulf oil spill. Josh and I were of one accord that the White House should not accept blame. However, Josh wanted to blame the crisis on a political rival. Replicating a central theme of the show, namely that cooler heads should prevail, I suggested we neither take nor assign blame. Rather, the White House should angle passively so that blame fell imperceptibly onto wrongdoers. This, I assured Josh and Leo, would keep the President’s hands clean. (Oh yeah, folks, I’m crafty during REM sleep!)

After this intense meeting, Leo and I stepped into the hall. He charged me with taking our position directly to the President. One of the most beloved characters on The West Wing, Leo leaned in close to me and spoke in a low gravelly tone like I’d seen the late actor John Spencer do masterfully so many times. That was the most electrifying moment of the dream.

Next thing I know, I am sitting in the Oval Office with Sam Seaborn and other senior advisors looking on. SWEET! President Bartlett, or put another way—MARTIN FRICKIN’ SHEEN is looking right at me. COOL!! I’m advising him to stay above the fray. President Bartlett appears skeptical, and my nerves start to rattle. But the President doesn’t interrupt, and I successfully get my point across. AWESOME!!!

As I woke up , staring at the ceiling of my apartment, I grinned ear to ear for a second. Then the metaphorical floor dropped out from under me as I realized my dream lacked one critical element. Astute fans of The West Wing may already know to which element I’m referring.

I
didn’t
do
a
“Walk
and
Talk.”

I’ve been kicking myself ever since. How did my brain deliver up such a realistic West Wing dream, only to leave out the critical technique of actors walking as they talk? By literally moving the story forward, Walk and Talks help fans digest critical exposition as they survey the White House Complex. What is worse, my dream included an obvious place to do a Walk and Talk. For goodness sake, Act 2 of my dream was in the hallway with Leo. But we just stood there. And no, I don't blame Leo. I take full responsibility.

Now I’ve got to watch a whole ‘nother season—again—to prompt a new dream (which reminds me that only watching Kate Beckinsale movies every other week isn’t doing the trick, but that’s a peripheral issue). Oh well, I’m off to watch some reruns.

A Manly Man Goes Millay

2010-06-06T13:48:00.000-07:00

Selected Poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Shame led me to read this book of poetry.

Here is how it went. Last November I read a blog post by Dave Cullen in which he pointed out the disparity between male and female authors receiving recognition. The column stuck with me. Fast-forward to last month as I mulled over what present to get my niece for her high school graduation. I bought her a new hardbound collegiate dictionary. But I also wanted to get her a work of prose or poetry to try out, something of proven literary merit.

My initial impulse, no lie, was to give her a copy of Childhood's End by the late Sci-fi master Arthur C. Clarke. I didn't feel shame about that. It's an excellent and thought-provoking novel I hope my niece does read sometime. But I realized I ought to do better than just toss her one of my "favs." I also felt a strong impulse that I should get her something by a female author. And that's when the shame hit.

Though I have read many books by women, I couldn't think of any works off the top of my head that would make good graduation gifts. The guilt began to flow when I realized that had my niece been a nephew, I could have easily listed a bevy of titles fit for any high school graduate to sample. Moreover, as the proud recipient of an English degree, I ought to be able list several female authors whose works are ideal for soon-to-be college freshman.

Then I remembered seeing the name Edna St. Vincent Millay on a friend's Goodreads Profile. So I grabbed one of Millay’s collections off the shelf at Borders Bookstore, read a couple poems in the store, and quickly bought the book. If it ended up not being appropriate for my niece, at least I would improve my own reading list.

In Millay's writing, I found poems about nature, companionship, assertiveness, and even wanderlust. I especially loved one passage where Millay said in effect that she wasn't satisfied with roses--either as a romantic gift or a subject for poetry. She prized more the vitality of real human interaction. At some point, I stopped reading to see if my niece might like Millay and just enjoyed the poetry for myself.

My goal in giving my niece this collection was not to make her a Millay fan. If she becomes one, bonus! As a liberal arts junky I would also be tickled if she writes me this summer and says, “Uncle Jake, I did not enjoy Ms. Millay’s poetry for the following reasons…” I just wanted to extend her a sincere invitation to explore great literature as an avenue of personal development. And as she purchases books for school, most often written by men, I felt it important to make sure she starts out with a book on her shelf written by a great woman who succeeded on her own merits.

Most of the authors I read are men, and I make no apology for that. I like being a man and reading about the male experience. Not long ago I sat in a buddy's backyard and relished listening to him read masterfully the first paragraph of Moby Dick, a manly story indeed! But the strength in that work can be found in equal measure in the works of many female authors past and present. I thank Mr. Cullen and Ms. Millay for reminding me of that. But I also thank my niece.

View all my reviews >>

Why I should replace Charity Nebbe on Michigan Radio

2010-05-22T12:42:00.000-07:00

If you have ever had a favorite radio station, you will understand what I am about to say. For over two years I have been a daily listener of Michigan Radio. During that time, I have come to rely on several program hosts, even drawing comfort from the familiarity of their voices. One of my favorite on-air hosts is Charity Nebbe. She does the local segments of NPR’s All Things Considered.

Every weekday evening, Charity takes world-weary commuters like me through a stimulating mix of news, interviews, and attempts by political analyst Jack Lessenberry to make Governor Granholm cry. Charity’s voice, like the program’s content, has a rejuvenating quality. One could call her the Beneficent Muse of the Evening Commute. I won't, because that would be mawkish and tacky. But I digress.

Last week, I learned with great sadness that the Beneficent Mus...excuse me, that Charity Nebbe is leaving Michigan Radio. She has taken a position at a station in Iowa that I will not name. One could call the managers of this Iowa-based radio station rapacious jerks for stealing Charity from us. But I won't because that would be mawkish and tacky.

In any case, as Charity’s departure grows closer, I find myself increasingly fretful about the prospect of learning to trust a new voice during evening drive time. Bear in mind I commute on I-94. Between drivers yapping on cell phones and farmer’s dogs hunting the shoulder for discarded snacks, my drive home is hair-raising. Yet Charity’s calm and erudite reporting style remains an auditory balm against the rush hour anxiety.

This begs the question, “Can anyone replace Charity Nebbe?” It’s like asking, “Can anyone replace Larry King?” Except the answer to that question is “Of course.” But replacing Charity Nebbe? Likely impossible. Still, in lieu of freshly dead air, someone should continue on with the work of inspiring evening commuters. And amidst the dregs of my sorrow I confess smelling a hint of opportunity. So I hereby announce my willingness to replace Charity Nebbe on WUOM 91.7 FM in Ann Arbor.

Instead of providing a standard resume and MP3 samples, I've listed below the 13 most compelling reasons I should be appointed Charity’s successor:

1. As with every other job opening on the planet, my English Degree counts as being “in a related field.”

2. Thanks to occasional part-time work at University of Michigan, I am already set up for Direct Deposit.

3. I have famed NPR broadcaster Carl Kasell’s voice on my home answering machine.

4. After attending volunteer training last year, a station intern recorded me for one of her projects. She said I did “very good.”

5. At 6’2”, sporting a husky build and mama’s boy charm, I would bring a certain hugability to stressful staff meetings.

6. As a Pledge Drive Volunteer, I have a proven track record of only taking one sprinkle donut during my shift. And I hereby call on all other candidates for this position to disclose their Pledge Drive donut intake.

7. When describing my latest “driveway moment” to a staff member of The Environment Report, I can keep a straight face while saying, “Of course I turned my engine off.”

8. When in the studio, I promise never to step on Morning Edition host Christina Shockley’s toes—literally or metaphorically.

9. Over hundreds of listening sessions, I have heard Charity stutter as many as four or five times while reading news copy. So obviously perfection is not a job requirement.

10. With practice, I know I can learn to say “Michigan Radio dot org” in a voice that melts butter.

11. On a recent stroll, I saw several apartments for rent within walking distance of the station. I could raffle off my Staff-Only Parking Spot to U-M students for a fundraiser. I got ideas people!

12. Even with Curtis Granderson gone to the New York Yankees, and now Charity leaving too, I remain committed to the state of Michigan. I certainly wouldn’t leave Michigan for Iowa . . . wait, is Iowa where the Field of Dreams is located? (pauses to google) Hey Charity, can I bum a ride?

13. Finally, seriously and sincerely, like Charity I would drop in and offer thanks and encouragement to the volunteers during Pledge Drives. This I believe is one of many reasons Michigan Radio members are posting scores of farewell messages to Charity online. She is a true friend to the station, its members and the cause of responsible journalism. I wish her well. And now, coming up next on All Things Considered...

D.C. Visit Part Three: A Chance Reunion and Lincoln's Vista

2010-05-18T13:18:00.000-07:00

A Chance Reunion

A week before visiting Washington D.C., I received an e-mail from a dear college friend named Cassie. Though we correspond, we have not seen each other in about a decade. She now lives on the West Coast. In her e-mail, Cassie mentioned she'd been thinking of me because she was going on a business trip to Washington D.C. As it turned out, her and my trips coincided right down to the evening we both had free. It was a joy to hang out with her again after so long.

I had hoped to lead us on a patriotic stroll down to the Mall, but sheer distance, aggravated by me losing my bearings, caused us to run out of time. We resorted to taking a photo in front of some nondescript federal building that totally blocked our view of the Washington Monument. Annoying.

The National Mall at Night
The CRLT Players performed at the Society of Neuroscience on our second night in town. Following the gig, I split off from the group and headed on foot to the National Mall. My plan was simple: traverse the monument-rich west half of the Mall, ending my trip with a finale stroll past the Washington Monument. I began this 2-mile walk at around 9 pm. I figured that would give me enough time to see it all and catch one of the last subway trains out of downtown. (Note to hasty readers, the preceding sentence was an eerie foreshadow.)

At night, the National Mall shimmers with Greco-Roman mythos. New since my last visit is the World War II Memorial. Here are the two best images I could capture with my cellphone camera.

As seen below, something about the pillars adorned with wreaths struck me as perfectly appropriate. There is one for each state in the union.

By the time I reached the Lincoln Memorial I had already walked about five miles that day. By 10 pm, my face was a bit pink and my legs were quite sore. Thus it was with some dismay that I remembered this monument has steps.

Visiting at night I was struck by how, of all the monuments in D.C., the Lincoln Memorial most exemplifies the term shrine. After reading the Gettysburg Address, inscribed on a large section of the inner wall, I walked around the backside of the memorial to get a peek at the nearby John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. In terms of quantity of memories, that building holds the most personal significance for me of any in D.C. I'll spare you the blurry cellphone shot and invite you to try out the virtual tour link above.

Coming back around to the front side, I nabbed the below shot of my next destination: The Washington Monument. It's about a mile away, and by this point it was well after 10 pm.

Before I left the Lincoln Memorial I sat on the front steps and took in the panorama. Above me, a badge-like collection of reddish clouds was drifting eastward toward the capitol. And the sky beyond was a deep blue dome accentuated by stars. My cell phone couldn't capture this. No bother. I'm an English Major! As I walked back along the famed Reflecting Pool, I started working on a poem in my head.

Of course, when you are brainstorming a poem, you walk slower. The clock ticked past 11 pm as I arrived at The Washington Monument. This towering obelisk is impressive day or night. Plus, there are no fences around it. With the Park Police doubtless rolling their eyes nearby, I walked right up to the base, leaned my chest and chin against the cold marble, and stared over 500 feet up to the blinking red lights near the pinnacle. Here is a better shot from further back.

The Tired, The Poor, The Huddled Masses
It was approaching 11:30 pm when I finally came within sight of the Smithsonian Metro Station. From a hundred feet away, I heard a subway train passing beneath the ground. I sat down on a park bench and breathed deep, wanting to drink the nostalgia and patriotic feelings in a while longer. On a neighboring bench, a homeless gentleman started bedding down for the night. It was at about this time that a potent sense of calm filled me. It was strange. All I can say is I felt very peaceful, as if I was in the right place. I felt no hurry to leave. I honestly think I could have sat there quietly till dawn without getting bored, just breathing and contemplating. Practicality prodded me to head back to the hotel. I walked quietly past the homeless man toward the subway escalator. The gate was down and locked.

It was now approaching midnight, and I was standing just over two miles from the hotel. My 35-year-old knees were aching, so I found another bench to sit on. I knew other stations were still open, the final trains snaking through downtown tunnels before making their end runs for the Maryland and Virginia suburbs. But I made the decision to hoof it. The obvious dangers of walking alone in D.C. late at night granted, half my route involved well-lit avenues crawling with federal security. Actually, considering my appearance--clutching a carry-on bag next to my untucked shirt in concert with a dazed expression--I initially worried more about appearing suspicious to security than I did about seeming vulnerable to potential muggers.

The final image Washington presented to me was one of homelessness. There were so many indigents, ciphers bedding down in corners and beneath building overhangs. At one point I approached a few garbage bags stacked neatly outside a storefront. But when I came within a couple of paces, I saw a face peering out from them. Passing through Farragut Square just before midnight, I watched a tall mendicant preaching a thundering sermon to no one in particular. It was disconcerting to watch, but not terrifying. Almost uniformly, the homeless disregarded me. Instead of making a conscience-soothing call for charitable giving, I'll simply acknowledge their dismissal of me for what it was at the time: a fair bit of turnabout.

Of course I made it back to my room fine, albeit hobbling past the hotel's bar still bustling with the liquored well-to-do. It took a couple of days for my legs to forgive me. But by the next weekend, I wished I had enough play money for a road trip back to Washington D.C. And as the sobering encounters with poverty mingled profoundly with the images of inspiring monuments and government edifices, I savored my reinvigorated love for our nation’s capital.

I'll close this three-part blog with the poem I started during my night walk on the National Mall. It's written in a form I have consciously blown off since elementary school. But in trying to capture that evening panorama, with its serendipitous color scheme, a haiku seems the perfect choice. I hope you enjoy it. I call the poem "Lincoln's Vista at Night."

Crest of garnet clouds,
Set in starry cobalt blue,
Capping marble's gleam.

D.C. Visit Part Two: City Birds, D.C. Cabs, and Boyish Pleasures

2010-05-02T12:37:00.001-07:00

The Birdman of Dupont Circle
True Story: While volunteering at the Kennedy Center during high school, I once got a Washington D.C. bird to eat from my hand. He was a persistent little fellow, not content to wait for accidentally dropped crumbs. So I tore a piece off of my hot dog bun and held it out to him. He plucked it from my finger, gobbled it down, and promptly flew away. Like so many D.C. residents, he was eating on the go. The bird in the center here, similar in size and attitude, stayed close for my entire breakfast at Dupont Circle. He wouldn't eat out of my hand, but fearlessly hunted for crumbs near my size 13s, speaking his hunger with cocks of the head and extended eye contact. I love city birds. They always entertain.

Would that this Baroque City Could be Fixed

My second major goal on this trip, just behind fulfilling my duties as a professional actor, was making a circuit of the National Mall on foot. It's a round trip of about 5 miles. And like every previous trip I’ve made to D.C. since age 8, it began by trying to get my bearings. You may ask, how does one lose his bearings standing on the edge of a grassy rectangle with easily distinguished landmarks at either end? Simple!

Washington, D.C. boasts a web-like street layout with crisscrossing avenues superimposed diagonally on top of the conventional compass-oriented grid. The city, not unlike the Oval Office, is virtually designed to make visitors lose their bearings. Now any NPS Park Ranger, and several pompous tourists you didn't ask, will explain D.C.'s layout as an ingenious way to defend the 18th Century capital against an invading army of horses and buggies. But to a modern visitor it's an assault on one's sense of direction.

The city's complex layout takes its toll on cab drivers too. In New York City, a cabby will veer across three lanes of traffic to pick you up. In D.C., cab drivers avoid picking up customers because they have the audacity to expect speedy transit to specific addresses across town. Case in point--on the first day of our trip, the bellhop at the Hilton tried to hail us a cab. What takes two flicks of the wrist in the Big Apple requires frantic two-armed waving and a referee whistle in the District.

The first cabby to take an interest pulled up, took one look at me and my colleagues walking toward him, honked spitefully, and then drove off. I'm not joking. Now granted, it was a cramped hotel driveway, and we sorta crowded him in our eagerness to get a ride. But really? Honk and drive off?

A second cab did pick up our trio. We asked him to take us to our performance venue located at 1121 14th Street--a distance of about a mile. The cabby replied with a sheepish "Okay." Silently and with white knuckles, he proceeded to navigate through several 5-way intersections, one tunnel, three traffic circles, and past a pedestrian who violently slapped the cab's trunk when we failed to let him jay-walk. Fifteen minutes later, our cabby pulled to a merciful stop in front of 1421 11th Street. We applauded him for finding an address quite similar to the one we'd requested. The rest of the trip, we walked.

Why Love a Crowded, Noisy City? The Nooks!

Here I am passing the National Theatre, which sits in a pleasant nook on Pennsylvania Avenue about three blocks from the White House. The theatre's marquee faces a cozy public square embraced by neighboring federal buildings. Here I thrice saw Les Miz in my teens, along with Michael Crawford in concert. I got off the subway two stops shy of the Mall just so I could take an encore gander at this nook.

Humoring my Inner Boy

Regardless of your attitudes toward Congress or the President, the first time you step onto the National Mall you will feel patriotic. It is a grand and stately sight. I dedicated my second and final free afternoon in town to visiting the east half of the Mall. This allowed me to make a delightful return visit to the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. Every time I go, I watch an IMAX film. I also spend at least a full minute gazing with boyish fascination at the X-15 hanging from the ceiling.

The theme of this visit was the Hubble Space Telescope. Here is a photo of me standing next to a life-size replica. I also watched the incredibly awesome and remarkably affecting IMAX film Hubble 3D. Indeed, it was so affecting that I almost passed out trying to stand up after the film. Calling on my Boy Scout training, I treated my light-headedness with freeze-dried astronaut ice-cream and a sports drink. Given the brevity of my visit, stopping for a real meal seemed a nuisance.

Coming Soon: D.C. Visit Part Three--A Chance Reunion and D.C. at Night.
Or check out my post on visiting the National Cathedral.

Washington, D.C. Visit: Part One

2010-05-02T10:18:00.000-07:00

Shortly after arriving in Washington, D.C. last Wednesday, I took a bus up Massachusetts Avenue to the National Cathedral. Even having lived in the D.C. area for a decade in my youth, there is a list of prominent places I have never been. And the list grows longer each year. Heading into this trip, the National Cathedral was at the top of my list.

Though I tried to keep myself open to a contemplative experience, I couldn't escape the primary feeling of checking off a box on a "Been There, Done That" list. Still, the Cathedral offered a rejuvenating and generally inclusive atmosphere. Though a distinctly Christian edifice, much of the building's artwork and sculpture celebrates Americana. For instance, after being greeted at the main entrance by the Biblical figures of Peter, Adam and Paul, upon entering the spacious nave I found myself flanked by the politically sainted Presidents Lincoln and Washington.

Employing my typical self-guided tour approach, I attempted to stay between larger tour groups. This worked well in the main hall, but proved impractical in the comparatively cramped byways and chapels of the Crypt Level and 7th Floor Pilgrim Observatory Gallary (visible just above the center archway in the above photo). As on the National Mall the next day, I was reminded to my vexation of how bustling even the most sobering edifices of Washington, D.C. are during the day. It's all for the best I suppose. There was a time I was the light-minded kid on a field trip. Look how nostalgic I've turned out!

Seen in this shot, The Crossing area of the Cathedral is being prepared for the funeral of civil rights leader Dorothy Irene Height, which took place the following day. Further on, the High Altar at the east end of the Cathedral is visible.

With sincere respect for a departed civil rights legend, the next day's funeral resulted in no less than a half-dozen chances to witness motorcades up close. And in terms of musing on citizenship and government, I think witnessing a motorcade is thought-provoking beyond mere novelty. In this and other ways, Ms. Height's passing served to underscore the great historical, political, and cultural significance of Washington, D.C.

UPDATE: I neglected to mention that a key reason I went out of my way to visit the National Cathedral was a marvelous episode of The West Wing called "Two Cathedrals". The Season Two finale has several sequences taking place inside the cathedral. If you ever get a chance to watch this episode, amongst many other attributes, it does a marvelous job of showcasing the edifice.

Ask not What the Cosmos Can Do for You.

2010-04-16T10:47:00.000-07:00

Below are some excerpts from President Obama’s Tax Day address at the Kennedy Space Center. These quotes are for me the highlights of an exciting plan. In relation to the cosmos, I believe this speech shows President Obama as having the vision of John F. Kennedy, the patriotism of Ronald Reagan, and the political acuity of, well, Barack Obama. Even if you aren’t especially interested in space exploration, I invite you to read these quotes as examples of a great mind engaged in proactive leadership. Enjoy!

“I want to thank Senator Bill Nelson and NASA Administrator Charlie Bolden for their leadership. And I want to recognize Doctor Buzz Aldrin….Few people – present company excluded – can claim the expertise of Buzz, Bill, and Charlie when it comes to space exploration. And few people are as singularly unimpressed by Air Force One.”

“…as President, I believe that space exploration is not a luxury or an afterthought in America’s quest for a brighter future – it is an essential part of that quest.”

“In fact, what was once a global competition has long since become a global collaboration.”

“I am 100 percent committed to the mission of NASA and its future. Because broadening our capabilities in space will continue to serve our society in ways we can scarcely imagine.”

“And we will extend the life of the International Space Station likely by more than five years, while actually using it for its intended purpose: conducting advanced research that can help improve daily life on Earth, as well as testing and improving upon our capabilities in space.”

“Early in the next decade, a set of crewed flights will test and prove the systems required for exploration beyond low Earth orbit.…We’ll start by sending astronauts to an asteroid for the first time in history.”

“Finally, I want to say a word about jobs. Despite some reports to the contrary, my plan will add more than 2,500 jobs along the Space Coast in the next two years….We’ll modernize the Kennedy Space Center creating jobs as we upgrade launch facilities….And there is potential for even more job creation as companies in Florida and across America compete….”

“I know that some Americans have asked a question that’s particularly apt on Tax Day: Why spend money on NASA at all? Why spend money solving problems in space when we do not lack for problems to solve here on the ground?....we know that this is a false choice. Yes, we need to fix our economy. Yes, we need to close our deficits. But for pennies on the dollar, the space program has fueled jobs and entire industries. For pennies on the dollar, the space program has improved our lives, advanced our society, strengthened our economy, and inspired generations of Americans.”

If you are interested in reading President Obama’s complete speech, one place to find it is at the National Space Society Blog.

The Business End of Michigan Radio's Pledge Drive

2010-03-28T12:39:00.000-07:00

You may see a boring picture. What do I see?

I see my view between 5:45 am and 9:00 am during six recent early mornings.

Accepting listener pledges for Michigan Radio is done sans computer. The pledge form, at first glance seemingly archaic, ensures a simple and efficient experience both for the volunteer and the donor. On the few occasions calls ran long, it was almost always because the donor and I found ourselves chatting about favorite programs.

Out of frame to the right was a TV screen that enabled me to spy Christina Shockley and Jennifer White--the talented and professional duo on-air during the wee hours of the morning. It's cool to watch them employ deliberate gestures, both facial and hand, to achieve the effortless and lively conversational tone heard on the airwaves.

Lastly, there is the donut of all donuts, baked fresh that morning at Washtenaw Dairy. This glazed wreath of dough, gilded in rainbow sprinkles, happens to be the only 0 trans fat donut made in Washtenaw County.

Volunteering during the station's semi-annual pledge drive is surprisingly refreshing. This was my second drive manning a phone. It's a change of pace from what I do for a living. It's a chance to visit with other proactive citizens. Fellow volunteers ranged from grad students changing the world, to businessmen squeezing in an hour of volunteering before heading to the office, to married couples volunteering together on a Saturday, to the backbone of American volunteerism--the retirees, who can remember when WUOM 91.7 FM started broadcasting in 1948.

Lest I create a false sense of utopia, this enjoyable experience happened in the real world. I fielded a handful of complaints from people who managed to be both disenchanted and respectful at the same time. Bottom line: it felt good to be a part of something worthwhile and optimistic.

Big Love for Barb

2010-03-06T07:42:00.000-08:00

As a non-practicing Mormon, I am occasionally asked the following question: "What do you think of the HBO original drama Big Love?" Actually the question usually comes out like this, "So Jake, whaddyuh think of Big Love?" The question's tone almost gives the impression I've been asked to comment on a fetish, not a TV program. Generally, my response is to draw a deep breath, cast an affable grin, and not mention all of the personal thoughts and feelings the show produces in me. After all, that’s not what they asked me to discuss. They just want a thumbs up or down.

Big Love is a fictional show that follows the life of a suburban polygamous family in Utah. Mormonism, as a complex culture, is at the heart of the show. It is currently in its fourth season, includes a top-notch cast, and even boasts an Oscar-winning writer/producer. By way of pop culture context, the show has proven itself a worthy successor to The Sopranos. It is intelligent and has high production values. But I'm not writing this post to muse on Big Love as entertainment. It's the show's personal effect on me that I've been musing on, having just viewed Season Three on DVD.

I was born and raised in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the main body of believers who trace their religious heritage back to 19th Century prophet Joseph Smith. My family has Mormon ancestry dating from the early pioneers who followed Brigham Young. And for the first 25 years of my life I lived Mormonism--often with zeal. But during my two-year full-time mission for the Church, I began doubting many of its truth claims. After an awkward and painful struggle, I chose to stop practicing Mormonism at the age of 25.

Fast forward to age 34. I am now functionally an agnostic. And despite a laundry list of differences with the Church’s teachings, I still feel strong ties to Mormonism. When a recent President of the Church passed away, I attended his funeral broadcast and teared up during the service. I welcome periodic visits from local priesthood leadership. You could compare me to a lapsed Catholic who still crosses himself from time to time. The simplest way to explain it is that I sometimes get homesick for Mormonism.

So it comes to pass that Big Love is a show I cannot watch casually. Structurally, Big Love is a soap opera. Granted, the show spends far more money per episode than daytime drama, translating into better scripts, better acting, and a finer finished product. Still, make no mistake, it is a soap opera. "Gentiles" tend to watch it that way too, relishing the shocking choices characters make and the cliff hangers that result. But for me, watching Big Love is a deeply affecting thing.

Even though the show's main characters are not mainstream Mormons--they are a splinter group--Big Love is nonetheless highly evocative of Mormonism in general. Any given episode offers a handful of trigger points. When the characters speak with great hope for the prospect of being married eternally, I don't have to extrapolate anything. I lived and nurtured that hope for 25 years. In fact, I find the concept of Eternal Marriage so beautiful that a part of me hopes I am wrong for leaving the Church. Because if I am wrong, many relatives whom I love will attain their deepest and most fervent wish.

Late in Season Three, one of the show's characters, Barb, sneaks into a Mormon temple and participates in the Church's most sacred rituals. She does not do this for insidious reasons. Though she is estranged from the main church because of polygamy, she desperately wants to participate one final time before facing excommunication. In one of the show's most controversial scenes, portions of the "Endowment" ceremony are depicted on camera. The Endowment is an interactive morality play that, through symbolism, takes participants from the Garden of Eden all the way to Heaven. I wasn’t prepared for how I reacted to Big Love's depiction of this holy rite.

As fictional Barb made her way into the Celestial Room, a temple chamber that represents Heaven, I wept. To be clear, I didn't sniffle or tear up. I bawled. Forget Kleenex. I grabbed a face towel. In my early 20s, I performed the Endowment ceremony many times. To Mormons, the Endowment ritual is viewed as essential to obtaining Eternal Life. The lessons and promises contained in it are deep and sobering, but also wondrous. Through the show's careful recreation, I found myself reliving the emotions of it, most of them uplifting. As the pain of Barb's homesickness lifted for a few moments, so did mine.

Watching this episode was one of the most conflicting moments of my life. On the one hand, I understand and hold as valid the deep offense devout Mormons feel at a profit-making television show depicting the Endowment ceremony. In real life, Mormons are prohibited from photographing temple ceremonies, including marriage. They are held to the highest degree of sacredness. On the other hand, as a non-practicing Mormon I was heartened to see that Big Love's production team portrayed the temple rites with dignity and respect. I also think the show effectively demonstrated how there is something dissembling about Church leaders calling the excommunication process a "court of love."

I share all this in the hopes that friends who have seen the show and read this will come to understand the strong connection Mormons of all sorts feel toward their religion. If you watch Big Love, try to sift through the soap opera aspects and notice how various characters try to achieve genuine religious fulfillment. Watch how they sometimes falter, but how other times they soar. When you see the character of Barb cope with the heartbreak of being cut off from a faith she still loves, know that you are watching the story of people like me.

As for Big Love, a good show can't go on forever. Sooner or later, like past hits, Big Love will "jump the shark" as it is called. The show's makers will go too far or simply run out of fresh concepts. A character that is an audience favorite might get killed off, perhaps through an Old Testament practice called Blood Atonement. Or a romantic match will be made that audiences refuse to accept. It is the fate of even the best episodic fare. Regardless, Season Three had some great moments. And for me, the best ones were very close to home. This blog is for all us Barbs.

photo courtesy Lacey Terrell/HBO

Thoughts on Anna Karenina

2010-02-22T10:34:00.000-08:00

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
My first impression of Anna Karenina is that it is an excellent novel about a man named Konstantin Levin. I would be curious to know if Tolstoy regarded Anna as the main character. If he did, I would fault him for doting so much on Levin’s story at the expense of Anna’s. Regardless, Anna is the social centerpiece of Tolstoy’s critique of 19th Century Russian society. Still I never came to see her as the main character of the storyline, which is not to say I found the novel less than wonderful.

On a thematic level, Anna Karenina explores the consequences of self centeredness. To the degree characters fixate on their own wants, they self-destruct. Tolstoy also does a great job of dramatizing how fear and excitement mingle to produce pleasure and a willingness to gamble. The utility role religion plays in social matters intrigued me. Even for non-believers, Christianity remains a valuable social credential. In Tolstoy’s hands, institutions like religion and marriage are as good or bad as the participants. That strikes me as compelling.

What I remain most in awe of is Tolstoy's ability to delve deep into the human soul and explore inner turmoil. For the most part he is able to do it without stalling the story. His depiction of Anna is masterful. Tolstoy makes her hard to peg. Anna is not a hapless victim, nor is she entirely to blame. Still, as Tolstoy all but says with the last section of the novel, enough about Anna. Let's get back to the main character: Levin.

Before we meet Anna, and after her fate is decided, Tolstoy fills many leaves focusing on Levin. He is a great earthy character, genuine, sympathetic, but volatile and clearly improved by the influence of a good woman. One of my favorite chapters involves Levin working away his anxieties by joining the muzhiks in the fields for a day of hard labor. It is invigorating reading. I also loved the humor and awkwardness of Levin and Kitty’s wedding. Easily the most heart-rending passage of the novel for me was reading as Levin endured Kitty's labor pains. Um...yeah, I wrote that last sentence right. And if it bugs you, talk to Tolstoy, because that is what the birthing chapter is about: Levin enduring Kitty's labor pains.

Perhaps because of the subject material--domestic drama--I remained a restless reader. Is this a novel about Anna and her lover Vronsky, with a parallel subplot involving a farmer named Levin? I argue it's the other way around, but that's not a criticism of Tolstoy's amazing novel. It is a criticism of whoever wrote the inadequate synopsis printed on the inside flap of my otherwise excellent Penguin Classics edition. Bottom line, this may be as good as novel writing gets. I recommend it almost as much as War and Peace.

View all my reviews >>

For a Good Time, Google "Stunning" and "Massachusetts"

2010-01-20T06:36:00.001-08:00

Putting aside all of the political and social ramifications, today was a great day for the word “stun”--more especially for its transitive verb and adjective forms: “stuns” and “stunning.” Let’s take a moment to celebrate this great word. Please note, emphasis has been added.

The linguistic celebration really started last night, with headlines like this one from from PBS.org
Brown Stuns Democrats With Projected Victory in Mass. Senate Race

From Boston.com
In stunning upset, Brown captures US Senate in Mass.
(The above headline also contains no less than two puns, perhaps unintended. There’s the Catholic word play on Mass and the even catchier play on en masse. Methinks the Editor intended the latter pun and is still grinning with semantical glee.)

From CNN.com
Democrats point fingers after stunning loss

From NYTimes.com
G.O.P. Senate Victory Stuns Democrats

From NPR.org
GOP Candidate Stuns Democrat In Massachusetts

From RasmussenReports.com
Brown Wins Stunning Victory in Massachusetts

From NewsRealBlog.com
Scott Brown delivers stunning upset victory in Massachusetts

From GoUpState.com
Republican Senate victory in Massachusetts stuns Democrats

From MyNorthwest.com
Stunning upset in Massachusetts - could it happen here?
(Incidentally, this headline is from this morning...after the results were in.)

From GlobalTV.com
Massachusetts voters hand Obama stunning rebuke

From PoliticsDaily.com
Scott Brown Stuns Martha Coakley in Massachusetts Senate Upset

From MassLive.com
Conservatives react to Scott Brown's stunning victory in Massachusetts Senate race
(Includes a picture of a blonde woman throwing her head back and gazing Heavenward in ecstasy)

From EnterpriseNews.com
Brown takes Kennedy's Senate seat in stunning upset over Democrat Coakley

And finally, as far away as Ireland there seems to be a lack of better, or even other, evocative options
From Finfacts.com
Republican takes Kennedy's seat in Massachusetts - - a stunning rebuke for Obama and Democrats

Well, that was just a sample. “STUNNING” I know. And now, let us have a moment of silence for the apparently extinct thesaurus.

Childe Jake's Pilgrimage

My Cosmos Highlights for January 2012

Nature Does Not Ask For Our Opinions

A Three Generation Family Portrait

The Creepy Cool Sounds of The Potter's Field

'Physics for Future Presidents' and/or Dummies

Best of Facebook Status Updates: Volume 5

On the lighter side

On a serious note:

An American Penguin

Not a Creature was Stirring...

My Cosmos Clearinghouse for December 2011

Solar Sail To The Rescue

Dawn Spacecraft Getting Even Closer to Vesta

Excerpts from a Novel Rough Draft

From Part One of Retrograde, Wanderer

From Part Two of Retrograde, Wanderer

From Part Three of Retrograde, Wanderer

Pining for 'Life on Mars' and Earth

Winner Status for a Childe Novelist

Washtenaw County Leaves and Berries

But first

Happy Thanksgiving to AllAnd to All a Good Bingefest

Autumn Leaves in Washtenaw County, Michigan

Blue Shift and the Penguin Cometh

And Here's the Penguin

My Run for the 'Rose Red'

But first...

Humility: A Poem of the Cosmos

Credits

A Childe's Novel Insecurities

Mill Lake in Washtenaw County, Michigan

A Preview of My Upcoming Novel

Updated Synopsis - October 26, 2011

Working Synopsis of Retrograde, Wanderer - October 15, 2011

Regarding Henry: I Plead the Fifth

But First

Now for a Light-hearted Review

The Rocket in Congress' Pocket

But First

A Long Time Ago, in a Committee Far, Far Away...

The Private Sector Gears Up

My Lightfooted Quest for Cooler Status

Alan Arnette and a Seven Summits Update

My Cosmos Clearinghouse for September 2011

ISS View of Hurricane Irene

Now for my Review of a Damn Good Biography

Best of Facebook Status Updates: Volume 4

A Childe's Farewell to Borders

Pilgrimage Vignette

Oh Redford, My Redford

'Little Green Men' Sports Pinball Wizardry

A 'Martian Summer' For the Books

Visit My YouTube Hovel...er Channel

Childe Jake's Pilgrimage Now Sharing Video

My Farewell to Our Space Shuttle Program

Cultural Hash from a Childe's Mind

The Shot Heard ‘Round My Ears

Of Celebrity-based Dreams

Now About Ms. Somers and the Glock

Help Me Robert Redford, You’re My Only Hope

About That Robert Redford Reference

Last Man Standing

Epilogue

My Cosmos Clearing House for STS-135

What is STS-135? Look Down and Dream Up

Now for my favorite image of STS-135...so far!

Spring Images of Washtenaw County Michigan

An Oak Tree Near Dexter, Michigan

'A Bird of Free and Careless Wing...'

O'Brien's Novel Take on a Childe's Life

Spring into Waterloo Recreation Area

But First A Squirrel in Peril, aka Merkel Furniture

Cinnamon Fern on the Bog Trail

My Favorite Overlook on the Waterloo-Pinckney Trail

A Childe Battles with the Beast

Episode 3 in the Quest to Become a Transparent Eyeball

How My Transparent Eyeball Quest Began

Norman Mailer's Gospel as Fan Fiction

My Cosmos Clearinghouse for May

Happy Thanksgiving to All
And to All a Good Bingefest