Argument Essay Blog Two
I have been watching the news and listen to the radio trying to gather additional information to reinforce my argument. Considering that I am writing about green technology and every news report is screaming about the hazards of coal mining disasters or oil rig explosions and oil contamination reaching the shores of the US. It seems very easy to see where the future of the world is heading. The world wants a safer environment and green technology is going to get us there. The Obama administration has plans for offshore oil drilling. The disaster in the Gulf is certainly going to challenge the status quo.
I needed a hardcopy source so I thought what better place to look than the New York Times. So I stopped by after my first class and picked up a copy in hopes of finding something about green technology. I didn't have to look very far when read on the front page was a story about a wind farm approval for Cape Cod Massachusetts. Once again it just shows the mentality in the direction of the world today. It was not all that long ago that windmills were only seen a on farms and ranches. And as they began to build wind farms opposition began to mount. People complained that they look ugly much like they did about the cell phone towers. It kind of makes me wonder if people are going to complain about anything just for something to do.
Perhaps the reason the complaints are being overshadowed by the support for alternative energy is that in the rearview mirror of people's mind they can still see the gas prices but that became unlatched just a short couple years ago. Maybe they realize that this recession we're in is holding the fuel prices down temporarily and it's time to take action before the fuel companies take it for us. Just today Chevron was claiming $30 billion profits as the American citizen is struggling to make ends meet. So what's it going to take to get the government to stand up for the people in times of crisis. The simple answer is it takes for people to stand up for the people by voting in our voting out those who are supporting big business while ordinary Americans shoulder the costs.
Alternative energy would help reduce our dependence on foreign oil and as that dependence diminishes the power of rogue states controlling the world oil supplies will also decrease. It is no secret that the wars in Afghanistan, Iraq and Kuwait were all fought because of our dependence on interruptible supplies of black gold. Thousands of Americans have lost their lives to secure this nonrenewable environmentally degrading resource. I wish I could find the numbers to show a correlation between the cost related to war and the cost or quantity of oil we are getting. In other words what's the return on our investment of American lives. How many cars what we need to park to save one life.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Weekends were made for ?
Weekends were made for ?
Last weekend I got up early on Saturday morning because my body was used to getting up early to go to school. I thought I would take advantage of it and try to get some work done around the house. The lawnmower and then broke down for about a week because I had to order a carburetor kit. The grass was tall and my wife was anxious to get it cut. The pressure was really on to get that lawnmower running. Just as I finished breakfast the phone rang, it was my neighbor he said the needed some help putting a dead bolt lock in his front door. I had promised to give them a hand and I couldn't back down now. He's about 70 years old and I wasn't alone do it by himself. So I grabbed my tools and headed up the street. There hadn't been a lock on the door before so I needed to bore a 2 3/8 inch hole. I had bought a jig to do this job and was still in the package so when I pulled it out in this and clamp it on the door he was quite surprised. This part of the job went fairly fast, and I followed that up by boring the lock mortise. The job was half done and we've barely gotten started. Soon we set up and bored the lock latch plate and and screwed it in place. It was too easy it was done so fast so you just know that means things had to go wrong. And wrong they did the minute he put the key in the lock, it wouldn't come out. Soon he was tugging on it with pliers I urged them to stop before he snapped it off and the brand-new lock. I said go back to the store and get a new one before you break it and have to keep it for yourself. He went to the store, and I began fixing lawnmower.
I started by disassembling the hood and the engine cowl and removing the carburetor and linkages. I thoroughly cleaned the carburetor and began replacing parts only to find out the store sold me the wrong kit. If I said this was typical you'd have to believe me because it happens every time you turn around. I use the parts I was able and put it back together and carefully hooked up the linkage. I didn't have a lot of choice so I cut my losses and went on about my business. I changed the oil and the filter. And put it all back together. It was a slow process, but when I got it finished it ran like a champ. So I decided I would go back down to the neighbors and see how he managed with a new lock.
In install the new lock away put the long screws in the latch plate it couldn't get them tightened up enough so he pounded them in with a hammer. The door wasn't closing properly so I had to remove the screws and replace them. The door swings like a champ and locks perfectly. So he's very happy.
It seems funny how everyone else's jobs always come before my own.
Last weekend I got up early on Saturday morning because my body was used to getting up early to go to school. I thought I would take advantage of it and try to get some work done around the house. The lawnmower and then broke down for about a week because I had to order a carburetor kit. The grass was tall and my wife was anxious to get it cut. The pressure was really on to get that lawnmower running. Just as I finished breakfast the phone rang, it was my neighbor he said the needed some help putting a dead bolt lock in his front door. I had promised to give them a hand and I couldn't back down now. He's about 70 years old and I wasn't alone do it by himself. So I grabbed my tools and headed up the street. There hadn't been a lock on the door before so I needed to bore a 2 3/8 inch hole. I had bought a jig to do this job and was still in the package so when I pulled it out in this and clamp it on the door he was quite surprised. This part of the job went fairly fast, and I followed that up by boring the lock mortise. The job was half done and we've barely gotten started. Soon we set up and bored the lock latch plate and and screwed it in place. It was too easy it was done so fast so you just know that means things had to go wrong. And wrong they did the minute he put the key in the lock, it wouldn't come out. Soon he was tugging on it with pliers I urged them to stop before he snapped it off and the brand-new lock. I said go back to the store and get a new one before you break it and have to keep it for yourself. He went to the store, and I began fixing lawnmower.
I started by disassembling the hood and the engine cowl and removing the carburetor and linkages. I thoroughly cleaned the carburetor and began replacing parts only to find out the store sold me the wrong kit. If I said this was typical you'd have to believe me because it happens every time you turn around. I use the parts I was able and put it back together and carefully hooked up the linkage. I didn't have a lot of choice so I cut my losses and went on about my business. I changed the oil and the filter. And put it all back together. It was a slow process, but when I got it finished it ran like a champ. So I decided I would go back down to the neighbors and see how he managed with a new lock.
In install the new lock away put the long screws in the latch plate it couldn't get them tightened up enough so he pounded them in with a hammer. The door wasn't closing properly so I had to remove the screws and replace them. The door swings like a champ and locks perfectly. So he's very happy.
It seems funny how everyone else's jobs always come before my own.
Texting 123
Texting 123
I read the report on NPR about texting and to say I couldn't agree more is an understatement. The evidence is everywhere. Texting is a way for people to stay connected so they say. It seems more like instant gratification. It says I'm in a hurry, drop everything you're doing and reply to me I'm all that matters. People who text (in the context of the NPR message) did not carry on a conversation they simply send bit and piece replies. It's amazing how these bit and piece replies also come across in their ordinary communication and vocabulary. How many times have you heard someone say, “that's random,” it’s the one-size-fits-all answer to everything. What could be more exciting than having a conversation with someone who says LOL. For God sakes if you want to LOL just do it. I grew up in a life of full of acronyms living in the military for 26 years. But acronyms have a time and place and it's not during social contact. Social contact with is that? There's no sense having social contact when you can send a text message to somebody and expected a reply within minutes instead of waiting to meet up with them and asked them how was their day. Why bother going out for a cup of coffee to send them a text message. When I was about 16 years old I realized that I did not did want to talk to people on the phone about important or personal matters because I wanted to be able to judge their feelings and body language. Texting does away with body language and being able to read people's feelings. This sense of impersonal permeates their everyday lives. It's so easy for information to be misunderstood in both directions from text messaging this leads to hurt feelings, anger and a host of other things that could've been prevented with an eye to eye personal conversation. No I have never texted a message to anyone and I do find them quite annoying whenever I receive one. Reminds me of the old AT&T telephone commercial that says the phone call was the next best thing to being there. That is so true, a phone call you can hear someone's voice and the sound of someone's voice can make all the difference in the world. But a text message not only lacks the connection but the manner in which the messages are written also lacks any personal feelings. It's not the same as a letter that someone has taken the time to carefully write from the heart. Text messaging has no heartfelt sentiments. In fact an e-mail does not evoke the same feelings as an old-fashioned letter and that is a far cry from a telephone call and still a long way from a face-to-face meeting. I will never be satisfied with the impersonal communication of a text message. And the rudeness that is displayed by others sending and receiving text messages while they are having a face-to-face conversation with another shows a complete erosion of manners.
I read the report on NPR about texting and to say I couldn't agree more is an understatement. The evidence is everywhere. Texting is a way for people to stay connected so they say. It seems more like instant gratification. It says I'm in a hurry, drop everything you're doing and reply to me I'm all that matters. People who text (in the context of the NPR message) did not carry on a conversation they simply send bit and piece replies. It's amazing how these bit and piece replies also come across in their ordinary communication and vocabulary. How many times have you heard someone say, “that's random,” it’s the one-size-fits-all answer to everything. What could be more exciting than having a conversation with someone who says LOL. For God sakes if you want to LOL just do it. I grew up in a life of full of acronyms living in the military for 26 years. But acronyms have a time and place and it's not during social contact. Social contact with is that? There's no sense having social contact when you can send a text message to somebody and expected a reply within minutes instead of waiting to meet up with them and asked them how was their day. Why bother going out for a cup of coffee to send them a text message. When I was about 16 years old I realized that I did not did want to talk to people on the phone about important or personal matters because I wanted to be able to judge their feelings and body language. Texting does away with body language and being able to read people's feelings. This sense of impersonal permeates their everyday lives. It's so easy for information to be misunderstood in both directions from text messaging this leads to hurt feelings, anger and a host of other things that could've been prevented with an eye to eye personal conversation. No I have never texted a message to anyone and I do find them quite annoying whenever I receive one. Reminds me of the old AT&T telephone commercial that says the phone call was the next best thing to being there. That is so true, a phone call you can hear someone's voice and the sound of someone's voice can make all the difference in the world. But a text message not only lacks the connection but the manner in which the messages are written also lacks any personal feelings. It's not the same as a letter that someone has taken the time to carefully write from the heart. Text messaging has no heartfelt sentiments. In fact an e-mail does not evoke the same feelings as an old-fashioned letter and that is a far cry from a telephone call and still a long way from a face-to-face meeting. I will never be satisfied with the impersonal communication of a text message. And the rudeness that is displayed by others sending and receiving text messages while they are having a face-to-face conversation with another shows a complete erosion of manners.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Argument Essay Blog One
Argument Essay blog one
The Argument Essay began life as a challenge, first was to determine what the subject was to be and then get approval. Even though I thought I had it wasn't to be. Thankfully it didn't change directions too much. I felt I had a good understanding of the new topic. But where to begin, with such a broad topic. I was fortunate to see two PBS specials within the first couple days of choosing my topic. They gave me many ideas perhaps too many and now I needed to pare them down and find a road to travel. I was even given a electronic copy of the New York Times, which I really appreciated. And each day since then as I listen to the news on the radio or watched on television I was bombarded with ideas. This information overload made me feel like an assembly line worker when somebody turned the speed up. The ideas were coming too fast from too many different directions which made creating a thesis seem impossible. Although I have a first draft written I'm not quite sure if I've covered all the things I would like to and what things I may need to remove that are kind of taking the train off the track. I did spend time at the writing lab bouncing ideas until I felt comfortable then I came home and got to work.
As I began to compile my list of ideas into an outline I once again began to question my thesis and what points I was really trying to make to my audience, I had so many. With my outline at the ready I began to write about all the things I knew about each topic and then access different websites and see if I could verify each point I was making. Many times I found interesting comments that I felt strengthened my point. I tried to inject as little as possible from outside sources but when I did I included websites basically as a reminder to ensure that I gave the author credit. I did not have any idea how to create the required notation. This was not even discussed until after my paper was due for its first draft. I was very concerned about writing a paper and using someone else's words without understanding the proper way to give credit to the author.
What I tried to submit the draft paper the WSU website was down and I even try to send it to the Gmail account but I had the wrong account. I was confident that it was submitted on time but when I found out that I had used the wrong account I became stressed and frustrated. I tried again after class that day to resubmit the paper I sent it to both the WSU and the correct Gmail Account the following day I got another error message saying that there paper was that was denied/ returned from both servers. I tried once again.
The Argument Essay began life as a challenge, first was to determine what the subject was to be and then get approval. Even though I thought I had it wasn't to be. Thankfully it didn't change directions too much. I felt I had a good understanding of the new topic. But where to begin, with such a broad topic. I was fortunate to see two PBS specials within the first couple days of choosing my topic. They gave me many ideas perhaps too many and now I needed to pare them down and find a road to travel. I was even given a electronic copy of the New York Times, which I really appreciated. And each day since then as I listen to the news on the radio or watched on television I was bombarded with ideas. This information overload made me feel like an assembly line worker when somebody turned the speed up. The ideas were coming too fast from too many different directions which made creating a thesis seem impossible. Although I have a first draft written I'm not quite sure if I've covered all the things I would like to and what things I may need to remove that are kind of taking the train off the track. I did spend time at the writing lab bouncing ideas until I felt comfortable then I came home and got to work.
As I began to compile my list of ideas into an outline I once again began to question my thesis and what points I was really trying to make to my audience, I had so many. With my outline at the ready I began to write about all the things I knew about each topic and then access different websites and see if I could verify each point I was making. Many times I found interesting comments that I felt strengthened my point. I tried to inject as little as possible from outside sources but when I did I included websites basically as a reminder to ensure that I gave the author credit. I did not have any idea how to create the required notation. This was not even discussed until after my paper was due for its first draft. I was very concerned about writing a paper and using someone else's words without understanding the proper way to give credit to the author.
What I tried to submit the draft paper the WSU website was down and I even try to send it to the Gmail account but I had the wrong account. I was confident that it was submitted on time but when I found out that I had used the wrong account I became stressed and frustrated. I tried again after class that day to resubmit the paper I sent it to both the WSU and the correct Gmail Account the following day I got another error message saying that there paper was that was denied/ returned from both servers. I tried once again.
Coy Mistress
Coy Mistress
The poem about a Coy Mistress was a very difficult piece of literature to translate. I spent a great deal of time analyzing each word in compiling the meanings sentence by sentence. If it wasn't for the in class analysis I really wouldn't have gathered much from it. I found it very frustrating and not at all to my liking. I struggled for many many hours to make sense out of this unfamiliar use of words. Poetry is supposed to be the language of love but to love gets lost when you struggle to gain an understanding of what the author is trying to say to the point where you have to deconstruct each and every line word by word and then the fluidity and rhythm are gone and no amount of rehearsal rating can bring it back.
To try to form a blog from this piece of writing was the most difficult (English) assignment of the semester. I lost a great deal of time analyzing and trying to put into my own words what the deeper meaning of this poem was. I spent days going over in my mind in the meantime I fell further and further behind on my blogs and became bogged down with the frustration of seeing my progress slipping away. I tried moving it had been working on other blogs but still my mind was drawn back to this particular one as an unfinished assignment. It is that of severe thorn in my side for weeks. I really wonder at this point if I will be able to make up for lost time that I spend trying to make sense out of this poem and then make an analysis of what was left.
I spoke with several other people about the same poem to see if they had the same difficulties. Their solution was much different than mine, they simply let it go; I could not. So day after day it drummed through my mind until I decided I simply had no choice but to put in writing just how difficult I found this piece of literature to comment on. Sure I could have just walked away and not let the points of this assignment affect me. But I cannot willingly give up a challenge and consider myself defeated, so I stayed at it. I was not expecting some miraculous revelation to fall into my lap. In the end the main points I found
Time and Space Were Simply Not Enough-
--we have all felt this since our first crush
No Words Can Express His Love Adequately
-- I've written hundreds of letters while being deployed for months at a time and no words seem to
Togetherness and Relaxation
these two words go hand-in-hand in a positive relationship
Even the End of the Earth Could Not Alter the Love He Felt
His Love of Her physical and Emotional Self
he describes her body and the time it would take to take in its beauty
Captivated by Her Beauty
He Mentioned Her Heart Last
Giving a Strong Sense of It Being the Most Important (for many reasons)
The poem about a Coy Mistress was a very difficult piece of literature to translate. I spent a great deal of time analyzing each word in compiling the meanings sentence by sentence. If it wasn't for the in class analysis I really wouldn't have gathered much from it. I found it very frustrating and not at all to my liking. I struggled for many many hours to make sense out of this unfamiliar use of words. Poetry is supposed to be the language of love but to love gets lost when you struggle to gain an understanding of what the author is trying to say to the point where you have to deconstruct each and every line word by word and then the fluidity and rhythm are gone and no amount of rehearsal rating can bring it back.
To try to form a blog from this piece of writing was the most difficult (English) assignment of the semester. I lost a great deal of time analyzing and trying to put into my own words what the deeper meaning of this poem was. I spent days going over in my mind in the meantime I fell further and further behind on my blogs and became bogged down with the frustration of seeing my progress slipping away. I tried moving it had been working on other blogs but still my mind was drawn back to this particular one as an unfinished assignment. It is that of severe thorn in my side for weeks. I really wonder at this point if I will be able to make up for lost time that I spend trying to make sense out of this poem and then make an analysis of what was left.
I spoke with several other people about the same poem to see if they had the same difficulties. Their solution was much different than mine, they simply let it go; I could not. So day after day it drummed through my mind until I decided I simply had no choice but to put in writing just how difficult I found this piece of literature to comment on. Sure I could have just walked away and not let the points of this assignment affect me. But I cannot willingly give up a challenge and consider myself defeated, so I stayed at it. I was not expecting some miraculous revelation to fall into my lap. In the end the main points I found
Time and Space Were Simply Not Enough-
--we have all felt this since our first crush
No Words Can Express His Love Adequately
-- I've written hundreds of letters while being deployed for months at a time and no words seem to
Togetherness and Relaxation
these two words go hand-in-hand in a positive relationship
Even the End of the Earth Could Not Alter the Love He Felt
His Love of Her physical and Emotional Self
he describes her body and the time it would take to take in its beauty
Captivated by Her Beauty
He Mentioned Her Heart Last
Giving a Strong Sense of It Being the Most Important (for many reasons)
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Analysis
Analysis
What Were the Challenges of Writing and Analysis Essay? To begin with I found it very difficult to choose a topic that met the criteria and got approved. I spent a great deal of time trying to find a topic that I'm felt comfortable talking about but at the same time could benefit from any research needed to fill in my gaps of knowledge. Originally I wanted to do something along the lines of a scientific analyses. When scientific topic fell through I turned my attention to writing about an aphorism. I chose a topic that I had some personal connection to. I thought I was off to it a good start basing on personal experience, but the peer-to-peer review revealed I didn't meet the criteria so a major rework was needed.
I went to the writing center to get experienced help assessing my draft. Together we made minor changes that seemed improve the structure of my essay by removing any ambiguous statements. After approximately an hour I left with a strong sense of direction. I reviewed my paper later that day to make my corrections, as has happened many times on the other papers it underwent a complete rework. Although it certainly made the paper stronger it increased the possibility of errors creeping into the writing.
During my editing I found many instances where the term they had crept into the writing as a way of not repeating the proper name of the person performing the action. I grabbed a pen and maliciously crossed off all instances of he, she, they and so forth. That was the easy part, now I have to find a way to rewrite the sentence without continuously repeating the person performing the actions that I was referring to in the previous sentence. I was very concerned about finding justifiable evidence to support my claims and at the same time I didn't want to alter what I was saying to a point where it became plagiarism. That became a very challenging situation each time I wanted to say something but yet prove its merit I had to verify and yet not allow others words to co-mingle with my own.
I had personal examples that I really wanted to use but the structure of the paper made it difficult so I chose to remove them which left a void that needed support. It always seemed to be a fine line between academically correct and technically or literally correct. With each paper that I've written I've learned many things and try to employ them from that point forward. I felt a thesis statement was a little one line that hooked the audience and that led from point-to-point to conclusion. But on the analysis paper I tried to expand my thesis to cover the different topics that would be explained logically in the flow the paragraphs.
In the end I believe I was able to breathe new life into an age old aphorism and draw a solid conclusion by using a solid chronological step-by-step approach. My goal was to give my audience a different viewpoint of something they know so well.
What Were the Challenges of Writing and Analysis Essay? To begin with I found it very difficult to choose a topic that met the criteria and got approved. I spent a great deal of time trying to find a topic that I'm felt comfortable talking about but at the same time could benefit from any research needed to fill in my gaps of knowledge. Originally I wanted to do something along the lines of a scientific analyses. When scientific topic fell through I turned my attention to writing about an aphorism. I chose a topic that I had some personal connection to. I thought I was off to it a good start basing on personal experience, but the peer-to-peer review revealed I didn't meet the criteria so a major rework was needed.
I went to the writing center to get experienced help assessing my draft. Together we made minor changes that seemed improve the structure of my essay by removing any ambiguous statements. After approximately an hour I left with a strong sense of direction. I reviewed my paper later that day to make my corrections, as has happened many times on the other papers it underwent a complete rework. Although it certainly made the paper stronger it increased the possibility of errors creeping into the writing.
During my editing I found many instances where the term they had crept into the writing as a way of not repeating the proper name of the person performing the action. I grabbed a pen and maliciously crossed off all instances of he, she, they and so forth. That was the easy part, now I have to find a way to rewrite the sentence without continuously repeating the person performing the actions that I was referring to in the previous sentence. I was very concerned about finding justifiable evidence to support my claims and at the same time I didn't want to alter what I was saying to a point where it became plagiarism. That became a very challenging situation each time I wanted to say something but yet prove its merit I had to verify and yet not allow others words to co-mingle with my own.
I had personal examples that I really wanted to use but the structure of the paper made it difficult so I chose to remove them which left a void that needed support. It always seemed to be a fine line between academically correct and technically or literally correct. With each paper that I've written I've learned many things and try to employ them from that point forward. I felt a thesis statement was a little one line that hooked the audience and that led from point-to-point to conclusion. But on the analysis paper I tried to expand my thesis to cover the different topics that would be explained logically in the flow the paragraphs.
In the end I believe I was able to breathe new life into an age old aphorism and draw a solid conclusion by using a solid chronological step-by-step approach. My goal was to give my audience a different viewpoint of something they know so well.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving
After reviewing the slides set the first time I really had no idea of what the point author was trying to make. The slide seemed to break the rules of good argument because if your audience doesn't know what you're arguing for how can they support your point of view. I
The author’s question: is there some inherent value to that way of life that we have lost, I'm completely lost what way of life is he referring to. The questions just seemed to come out of nowhere. How can there be an argument when the reader cannot discern the authors meaning?
The fabric of our lives is found in the food that we in the way we sit down to eat it. What's going on now? The author is entering a question with a question that leaves no clear understanding of what is being is being said. I can see that the author wants us to try organic food are getting back to nature. But the authors point seems to be slip-sliding around when in one breath, shows a picture of organic vegetables and then questions the dress of the chef with a statement of sponge pajamas and eating cut liver oil. If you're trying to entice an audience to try organic carrots you shouldn't show them in a sink with dirt, but just completely destroys any appetizing effects of their healthiness.
Free range chickens and young children working/wandering together in the fields sounds like a perfect balance of nature, however, chicken manure is the cause of many diseases including blindness.
The children working and eating together is an absolute positive experience, and I couldn't help but agree that the world could use all of this that we as parents could provide. When they're finished they clean up after themselves this is just another form of teamwork and once again creates a positive atmosphere.
In many ways the argument the author is trying to make seems discredited by the characters and situations and the informal language scribbled on the slides. How can the audience be expected to take the point of view seriously when the presentation seems so unrefined.
What is the point the author is trying to make about the woman looking at one tree after the next? Is she in fact out of her mind, or is she a tree lover or perhaps an animal lover looking for a bird or some such. The author leaves you questioning without providing answers.
Now the author has across the country again. No point was made on the initial trip across the country? Returning to your point of origin to start over seems like a person without a purpose. I say this because you should of made the initial discoveries before you left instead of traveling across the country and returning to the same place before making your discoveries. The author seems like an aimless wanderer in thought and deed.
Now I've gone through the slideshow twice I see no firm clear point of view.
Organic farming is a niche operation that can not support the growing needs of the world population, however it should be given the same subsidies and protections as the larger farmers so the population will benefit from cheaper prices and a larger selection of natural products.
After reviewing the slides set the first time I really had no idea of what the point author was trying to make. The slide seemed to break the rules of good argument because if your audience doesn't know what you're arguing for how can they support your point of view. I
The author’s question: is there some inherent value to that way of life that we have lost, I'm completely lost what way of life is he referring to. The questions just seemed to come out of nowhere. How can there be an argument when the reader cannot discern the authors meaning?
The fabric of our lives is found in the food that we in the way we sit down to eat it. What's going on now? The author is entering a question with a question that leaves no clear understanding of what is being is being said. I can see that the author wants us to try organic food are getting back to nature. But the authors point seems to be slip-sliding around when in one breath, shows a picture of organic vegetables and then questions the dress of the chef with a statement of sponge pajamas and eating cut liver oil. If you're trying to entice an audience to try organic carrots you shouldn't show them in a sink with dirt, but just completely destroys any appetizing effects of their healthiness.
Free range chickens and young children working/wandering together in the fields sounds like a perfect balance of nature, however, chicken manure is the cause of many diseases including blindness.
The children working and eating together is an absolute positive experience, and I couldn't help but agree that the world could use all of this that we as parents could provide. When they're finished they clean up after themselves this is just another form of teamwork and once again creates a positive atmosphere.
In many ways the argument the author is trying to make seems discredited by the characters and situations and the informal language scribbled on the slides. How can the audience be expected to take the point of view seriously when the presentation seems so unrefined.
What is the point the author is trying to make about the woman looking at one tree after the next? Is she in fact out of her mind, or is she a tree lover or perhaps an animal lover looking for a bird or some such. The author leaves you questioning without providing answers.
Now the author has across the country again. No point was made on the initial trip across the country? Returning to your point of origin to start over seems like a person without a purpose. I say this because you should of made the initial discoveries before you left instead of traveling across the country and returning to the same place before making your discoveries. The author seems like an aimless wanderer in thought and deed.
Now I've gone through the slideshow twice I see no firm clear point of view.
Organic farming is a niche operation that can not support the growing needs of the world population, however it should be given the same subsidies and protections as the larger farmers so the population will benefit from cheaper prices and a larger selection of natural products.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Karting
Karting
When I was sixteen I got a job at McDonald's burning hamburgers. My newfound wealth played a key role my childhood dreams. I bought a go-cart and began for the first time in my life to take an interest in mechanics. We would take it to the park and cruise for hours or until it broke down. It was nothing fancy but we enjoyed it. I paid for the parts while my brother did most of the fixing.
One while we were racing on the track some other people showed up with a few karts of their own. The motors on theirs were much smaller so we thought we had the race in the bag. We got quite a shock when they fired the engines and we heard the whine; it sounded like a chainsaw. It had the same snappy acceleration; it didn't take long to realize we had a snowballs chance in hell of winning. From that day forward we became friends we even went to the kart races to watch the professionals.
It was very exciting watching the karts scream around the track at speeds that were double that of a Corvette. I found it so hard to believe that something so small could go so fast and maneuver so well. Soon I too bought a professional Kart with aspirations of running on the track. I made one small mistake, I bought the card from an unsavory character and it didn't have an engine. So I began scouring the papers for an engine. I found them 22 hp snowmobile engine for the right price, so I thought I'd make a go of it. The kart I had wasn't designed for such a beast, so I began my own design modifications. Fortunately for me I worked at a small engine shop and the boss took an interest in what I was doing. I cooked it up and he put it together. It was quite a contraption but not as bad as the monsters automobile. It had a muffler off of Yamaha motorcycle and an ignition coil from an old style Chrysler so it needed a small lawn mower battery to run. And run it did, I never time that on the track but I'm sure it went close to 100 mph. It was extremely low to the ground, very fast and exciting. But it wasn't without its problems the extreme weight of the snowmobile engine flexed the frame and caused a chain to derail the clutch.
It was one of these exciting moments when I passed a cop car on the city streets headed to my old stomping grounds. As I flew around the corner the chain popped off; I was a nervous wreck as I jumped off and tried to restart it. The whole time I was sure a cop would be there at any second. But for some unknown reason my brother showed up first saw the gravity of the situation in my panic stricken face. I jumped in the seat and he fired it up. I blasted down the road and never looked back.
When I was sixteen I got a job at McDonald's burning hamburgers. My newfound wealth played a key role my childhood dreams. I bought a go-cart and began for the first time in my life to take an interest in mechanics. We would take it to the park and cruise for hours or until it broke down. It was nothing fancy but we enjoyed it. I paid for the parts while my brother did most of the fixing.
One while we were racing on the track some other people showed up with a few karts of their own. The motors on theirs were much smaller so we thought we had the race in the bag. We got quite a shock when they fired the engines and we heard the whine; it sounded like a chainsaw. It had the same snappy acceleration; it didn't take long to realize we had a snowballs chance in hell of winning. From that day forward we became friends we even went to the kart races to watch the professionals.
It was very exciting watching the karts scream around the track at speeds that were double that of a Corvette. I found it so hard to believe that something so small could go so fast and maneuver so well. Soon I too bought a professional Kart with aspirations of running on the track. I made one small mistake, I bought the card from an unsavory character and it didn't have an engine. So I began scouring the papers for an engine. I found them 22 hp snowmobile engine for the right price, so I thought I'd make a go of it. The kart I had wasn't designed for such a beast, so I began my own design modifications. Fortunately for me I worked at a small engine shop and the boss took an interest in what I was doing. I cooked it up and he put it together. It was quite a contraption but not as bad as the monsters automobile. It had a muffler off of Yamaha motorcycle and an ignition coil from an old style Chrysler so it needed a small lawn mower battery to run. And run it did, I never time that on the track but I'm sure it went close to 100 mph. It was extremely low to the ground, very fast and exciting. But it wasn't without its problems the extreme weight of the snowmobile engine flexed the frame and caused a chain to derail the clutch.
It was one of these exciting moments when I passed a cop car on the city streets headed to my old stomping grounds. As I flew around the corner the chain popped off; I was a nervous wreck as I jumped off and tried to restart it. The whole time I was sure a cop would be there at any second. But for some unknown reason my brother showed up first saw the gravity of the situation in my panic stricken face. I jumped in the seat and he fired it up. I blasted down the road and never looked back.
Move That Boat
Move that Boat
It was Saturday morning when a visitor came by a wanted to look at Pauline’s boat. Pauline had bought a boat several years ago she had found in the newspaper. When we took a look at it we were told that ran, we asked to see it run the owner let it fire once or twice and then shut it off. When we got home we realized why he shut it off so quickly. It didn't actually run it merely fired a few times and died. We spent a great deal of time trying to turn a piece of junk into a boat, but the cost of parts work so expensive and it was so old it was difficult to find anyone willing to work on the or that knew how. So it sat for many years and Pauline decided to let it go for free. So when a prospective customer came by be set it was more work than he was willing to invest. It was in the backyard and this seemed to be one of the main drawbacks. So we (Pauline) decided to move it, so I was pressed into service. It had two flat tires so that was the first-order of business. I turn on the air compressor I drug out hundred feet of hose and attempted to air up the tire. The bead is broken the tire would take no air, so I knew I was in for a long day. I grabbed the impact sockets, the air ratchet and heavy-duty roll around floor jack; and hauled it all to the backyard. I checked the boat and pulled the wheel off, clean the mud off the tire and tried once again to get the tire to seek to the rim. I tried strap clamps, I tried squeeze clamps, I tried everything but head stands, but nothing worked. So I aired up the spare and slap it on. I down jacked that side and began on the other. Fortunately for me that tire took air and I thought I was on the road.
Next we moved all the vehicles so we could begin to tow it out to the street. It took several maneuvers to get the bumper hitch aligned with the trailer tongue. I down jacked it but it just wouldn't fit into place. Soon I discovered we had the wrong ball hitch on the truck, but it was a convertible style; I just needed to change it over. The ball was seized solid I tried a hammer, I tried an impact screwdriver, I tried WD-40 to break it loose. No way was it going to come off, so I grabbed a three-quarter inch ratchet and a 4 foot bar and began tugging on it; the three-quarter inch steel handle began to bend. I knew enough was enough and called it quits.
Pauline called a gas station and they said, “We can get it off.” I said, “sure you can if you have a torch.” They tried their best tools but in the end, they cut it off with a die grinder. Now I have to go out and buy a new one, and the boat still sits.
It was Saturday morning when a visitor came by a wanted to look at Pauline’s boat. Pauline had bought a boat several years ago she had found in the newspaper. When we took a look at it we were told that ran, we asked to see it run the owner let it fire once or twice and then shut it off. When we got home we realized why he shut it off so quickly. It didn't actually run it merely fired a few times and died. We spent a great deal of time trying to turn a piece of junk into a boat, but the cost of parts work so expensive and it was so old it was difficult to find anyone willing to work on the or that knew how. So it sat for many years and Pauline decided to let it go for free. So when a prospective customer came by be set it was more work than he was willing to invest. It was in the backyard and this seemed to be one of the main drawbacks. So we (Pauline) decided to move it, so I was pressed into service. It had two flat tires so that was the first-order of business. I turn on the air compressor I drug out hundred feet of hose and attempted to air up the tire. The bead is broken the tire would take no air, so I knew I was in for a long day. I grabbed the impact sockets, the air ratchet and heavy-duty roll around floor jack; and hauled it all to the backyard. I checked the boat and pulled the wheel off, clean the mud off the tire and tried once again to get the tire to seek to the rim. I tried strap clamps, I tried squeeze clamps, I tried everything but head stands, but nothing worked. So I aired up the spare and slap it on. I down jacked that side and began on the other. Fortunately for me that tire took air and I thought I was on the road.
Next we moved all the vehicles so we could begin to tow it out to the street. It took several maneuvers to get the bumper hitch aligned with the trailer tongue. I down jacked it but it just wouldn't fit into place. Soon I discovered we had the wrong ball hitch on the truck, but it was a convertible style; I just needed to change it over. The ball was seized solid I tried a hammer, I tried an impact screwdriver, I tried WD-40 to break it loose. No way was it going to come off, so I grabbed a three-quarter inch ratchet and a 4 foot bar and began tugging on it; the three-quarter inch steel handle began to bend. I knew enough was enough and called it quits.
Pauline called a gas station and they said, “We can get it off.” I said, “sure you can if you have a torch.” They tried their best tools but in the end, they cut it off with a die grinder. Now I have to go out and buy a new one, and the boat still sits.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Reading Attention Test
Reading Attention Test
When I was a kid my father told me this story. He told me to pay careful attention because he would ask me some questions when he was finished. Because this story is written if you decide to take the challenge to be fair you should only read it once and try to memorize as much as you possibly can. Beware you must pay very close attention to the smallest details. You may have a pencil and paper to take notes.
You're driving a bus down Main Street in a very busy in Kansas. It's a cool clear early morning and there is dew on the grass. The first stop of the day is a mere one block from the bus terminal. Two passengers board the bus headed North on Main St. at the next stop an elderly man and his dog take a seat at the rear of the bus. Moments later the bus drivers forced to slam on brakes as a small child darts across the street. The next stop is at fourth and Main there a mother and daughter get on the bus for a shopping trip. The bus is now passing all the busy shops such as the bakery the dry cleaners and the butcher shop. The passenger seem content to window shop as they enjoy the ride. The next stop is much further down the road further down the road, there two young boys join the occupants of the bus, as one of the first passengers departs. The bus turns right and heads downtown on a pothole laden street. The ride is bumpy and the passengers are jostled from side to side but nobody seems to mind too much after all its public transportation. The bus driver another stop at the request of the elderly man and he and his dog walk casually down the street. The next step is only moments away and the mother and daughter now leave the buses as well. The bus seems empty but there is another stop around the next corner. Soon three more passengers take advantage of the convenience and file orderly onto the bus. The sun is beginning to warm the seats and glisten off the chrome grab bars; it's going to be another beautiful day remarks one of the passengers as he boards the bus. The bus is now on the outskirts of town and there the stops are farther apart so it begins to pick up speed. And the shady bus stop in front of an old family-owned furniture store awaits two more passengers for the long ride back to town.
I hope you're paying close attention. What color is the bus driver's eyes? It's unfair to go back and reread the paragraphs because as a child it was a verbal story although I was allowed to have a pencil and paper to write down notes it was really meant to be a distraction. This story is certainly a lot easier to decipher than the Ernest Hemingway story about white elephants.
When I was a kid my father told me this story. He told me to pay careful attention because he would ask me some questions when he was finished. Because this story is written if you decide to take the challenge to be fair you should only read it once and try to memorize as much as you possibly can. Beware you must pay very close attention to the smallest details. You may have a pencil and paper to take notes.
You're driving a bus down Main Street in a very busy in Kansas. It's a cool clear early morning and there is dew on the grass. The first stop of the day is a mere one block from the bus terminal. Two passengers board the bus headed North on Main St. at the next stop an elderly man and his dog take a seat at the rear of the bus. Moments later the bus drivers forced to slam on brakes as a small child darts across the street. The next stop is at fourth and Main there a mother and daughter get on the bus for a shopping trip. The bus is now passing all the busy shops such as the bakery the dry cleaners and the butcher shop. The passenger seem content to window shop as they enjoy the ride. The next stop is much further down the road further down the road, there two young boys join the occupants of the bus, as one of the first passengers departs. The bus turns right and heads downtown on a pothole laden street. The ride is bumpy and the passengers are jostled from side to side but nobody seems to mind too much after all its public transportation. The bus driver another stop at the request of the elderly man and he and his dog walk casually down the street. The next step is only moments away and the mother and daughter now leave the buses as well. The bus seems empty but there is another stop around the next corner. Soon three more passengers take advantage of the convenience and file orderly onto the bus. The sun is beginning to warm the seats and glisten off the chrome grab bars; it's going to be another beautiful day remarks one of the passengers as he boards the bus. The bus is now on the outskirts of town and there the stops are farther apart so it begins to pick up speed. And the shady bus stop in front of an old family-owned furniture store awaits two more passengers for the long ride back to town.
I hope you're paying close attention. What color is the bus driver's eyes? It's unfair to go back and reread the paragraphs because as a child it was a verbal story although I was allowed to have a pencil and paper to write down notes it was really meant to be a distraction. This story is certainly a lot easier to decipher than the Ernest Hemingway story about white elephants.
Sherlock Holmes
Sherlock Holmes
My wife and I watched Sherlock Holmes last evening so I thought it would be good subject for critique. The first thing I noticed was when the movie began was that the backgrounds seem to be overlaid. This nonrealistic setting for me was a bad way to set the stage. I was disappointed very early on with what seemed to be poorly adapted visual effects. Soon after, I became bored with the long drawn out scenes of no particular value. I was so bored in fact I got up from the movie a couple of times to get a drink or possibly a snack. Eventually the movie began to draw my interest some. I often found the storyline difficult to follow partly due to the fact it was difficult to hear Robert Downey Jr. speaking his lines. The fact that I seem to be a loss for words to describe this movie just seems to me to be more evidence that was not a movie that I would recommend to others. The acting seemed mediocre at best, and the action unrealistic. It felt like I was watch get cheap remake of Angels and Demons. The scenes were always set at night which seemed to be designed to cover-up the fake scenery and did nothing except to cheapen the movie. Sherlock Holmes ran from scene to scene doing a sniff check to determine the chemicals involved, each time I had to ask myself is he a bloodhound or was that the best thing that could come up with. I realize the scene was set in the 1800s but the inconsistencies of technology were many. Sherlock Holmes was picking locks with instruments suitable for an operating room. The pre-played out fight scenes just seemed to lengthen an already boring scene.
The final scene of the movie where the heroine disable the machine and ran away with the poison cylinders just seemed to make no sense at all. She was right by the waterfront but instead of throwing the cylinders away she instead carry them high atop an incomplete bridge to try to make the scene more perilous. Once again the sense of phoniness of this scene just completely deflated and a sense of realism. The audience must've realized this was absolutely not real and gave no sense of excitement. As I watched this scene I just felt like saying come on get it over with. Although the bad guy met his demise in a fitting way it still wasn't much of an ending.
I am trying to do my best to recall the things that I found interesting, exciting, or funny. There was one scene but I really can't remember what it was at this moment. It had an interesting twist on an old theme. I like the concept that all the evil that was supposed to be magic was explained away using simple tricks and chemistry. If I had to choose my favorite part of the movie it would have to do with the set design; the furnishings and the architecture.
My wife and I watched Sherlock Holmes last evening so I thought it would be good subject for critique. The first thing I noticed was when the movie began was that the backgrounds seem to be overlaid. This nonrealistic setting for me was a bad way to set the stage. I was disappointed very early on with what seemed to be poorly adapted visual effects. Soon after, I became bored with the long drawn out scenes of no particular value. I was so bored in fact I got up from the movie a couple of times to get a drink or possibly a snack. Eventually the movie began to draw my interest some. I often found the storyline difficult to follow partly due to the fact it was difficult to hear Robert Downey Jr. speaking his lines. The fact that I seem to be a loss for words to describe this movie just seems to me to be more evidence that was not a movie that I would recommend to others. The acting seemed mediocre at best, and the action unrealistic. It felt like I was watch get cheap remake of Angels and Demons. The scenes were always set at night which seemed to be designed to cover-up the fake scenery and did nothing except to cheapen the movie. Sherlock Holmes ran from scene to scene doing a sniff check to determine the chemicals involved, each time I had to ask myself is he a bloodhound or was that the best thing that could come up with. I realize the scene was set in the 1800s but the inconsistencies of technology were many. Sherlock Holmes was picking locks with instruments suitable for an operating room. The pre-played out fight scenes just seemed to lengthen an already boring scene.
The final scene of the movie where the heroine disable the machine and ran away with the poison cylinders just seemed to make no sense at all. She was right by the waterfront but instead of throwing the cylinders away she instead carry them high atop an incomplete bridge to try to make the scene more perilous. Once again the sense of phoniness of this scene just completely deflated and a sense of realism. The audience must've realized this was absolutely not real and gave no sense of excitement. As I watched this scene I just felt like saying come on get it over with. Although the bad guy met his demise in a fitting way it still wasn't much of an ending.
I am trying to do my best to recall the things that I found interesting, exciting, or funny. There was one scene but I really can't remember what it was at this moment. It had an interesting twist on an old theme. I like the concept that all the evil that was supposed to be magic was explained away using simple tricks and chemistry. If I had to choose my favorite part of the movie it would have to do with the set design; the furnishings and the architecture.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Pizza
Pizza
By now I'm sure everyone knows I'm from New York. I would imagine that most people know that New York has a very large Italian population. Niagara Falls; where I'm from is no exception. Italian food was a staple of my upbringing. We ate spaghetti all the time and even to this day I can really put away a plateful. Pizza on the other hand was a treat that we would probably have about once a month. When I was a kid we would stop at the local grocery store and buy a slice of cold pizza wrapped in Saran wrap and a bottle of pop instead of candy bars. I was told many years later that olive oil was used to keep the pizza moist.
But the pizza of old was not the pizza today. In fact I'm willing to bet that most people who might read this have no idea what I'm talking about. To begin with pizza in New York has a completely different flavor than a does in Kansas. From start to finish the ingredients are different. The crust is based on Italian bread dough, which is soft and moist on the inside and crispy on the outside. It has a totally different flavor than the Italian bread sold at Dillons. I never made the pizza but I've been told they sweeten the deal with sugar and use olive oil to make it moist. Because the dough is sweetened when it's rolled in flour the flour on the crust is also sweetened; which adds a unique flavor. The tomato sauce is the heart of the pizza and the ingredients are different and better tasting than the best I have had in Kansas. The tomatoes grown in New York are a rich red color and the flavor is different because of the minerals extracted from the soil. By comparison homegrown tomatoes in this region seem mostly to come from Texas and they are pale orange/red in color and lack distinct flavor. I have to laugh when I hear Papa John's commercial about better ingredients that are pizza. If he is ever been to in the New York, he has never tasted better ingredients. For people who love fresh garden tomatoes I hope you get the opportunity to try some grown in New England. Tomatoes make the sauce but Italian spices are what set of New York pizza apart from any other. I can't remember the last time I tasted pizza that had oregano and the sauce. Add mozzarella cheese was absolutely never put on a pizza when I was growing up. Mozzarella was the ingredient used by frozen pizzas that have the flavor of a Frisbee. In case you're wondering its Parmesan cheese that belongs on a pizza. I remember the first time I had a pizza with mozzarella I thought somebody must've ran out or tried to make a lasagna with pizza dough. It just plain tasted weird.
I was 19 years old and joined the Air Force before I ever ate a pizza from Pizza Hut or any other fast food pizza joint. It wasn't good. Each time I get the opportunity to go to New York I call in advance to have an old-fashioned pizza made from the best pizza place in Niagara Falls, the Pizza Oven
By now I'm sure everyone knows I'm from New York. I would imagine that most people know that New York has a very large Italian population. Niagara Falls; where I'm from is no exception. Italian food was a staple of my upbringing. We ate spaghetti all the time and even to this day I can really put away a plateful. Pizza on the other hand was a treat that we would probably have about once a month. When I was a kid we would stop at the local grocery store and buy a slice of cold pizza wrapped in Saran wrap and a bottle of pop instead of candy bars. I was told many years later that olive oil was used to keep the pizza moist.
But the pizza of old was not the pizza today. In fact I'm willing to bet that most people who might read this have no idea what I'm talking about. To begin with pizza in New York has a completely different flavor than a does in Kansas. From start to finish the ingredients are different. The crust is based on Italian bread dough, which is soft and moist on the inside and crispy on the outside. It has a totally different flavor than the Italian bread sold at Dillons. I never made the pizza but I've been told they sweeten the deal with sugar and use olive oil to make it moist. Because the dough is sweetened when it's rolled in flour the flour on the crust is also sweetened; which adds a unique flavor. The tomato sauce is the heart of the pizza and the ingredients are different and better tasting than the best I have had in Kansas. The tomatoes grown in New York are a rich red color and the flavor is different because of the minerals extracted from the soil. By comparison homegrown tomatoes in this region seem mostly to come from Texas and they are pale orange/red in color and lack distinct flavor. I have to laugh when I hear Papa John's commercial about better ingredients that are pizza. If he is ever been to in the New York, he has never tasted better ingredients. For people who love fresh garden tomatoes I hope you get the opportunity to try some grown in New England. Tomatoes make the sauce but Italian spices are what set of New York pizza apart from any other. I can't remember the last time I tasted pizza that had oregano and the sauce. Add mozzarella cheese was absolutely never put on a pizza when I was growing up. Mozzarella was the ingredient used by frozen pizzas that have the flavor of a Frisbee. In case you're wondering its Parmesan cheese that belongs on a pizza. I remember the first time I had a pizza with mozzarella I thought somebody must've ran out or tried to make a lasagna with pizza dough. It just plain tasted weird.
I was 19 years old and joined the Air Force before I ever ate a pizza from Pizza Hut or any other fast food pizza joint. It wasn't good. Each time I get the opportunity to go to New York I call in advance to have an old-fashioned pizza made from the best pizza place in Niagara Falls, the Pizza Oven
Chemistry
Chemistry
Chemistry is my favorite class, if you believe that I got some damp land in Florida I would like to sell. I haven't had chemistry since about 1977 so when I signed up for chemistry I had a completely different idea of what to expect. I studied everything on the PowerPoint slides and the chapter and I was prepared for a comprehensive test. It was quite a shock when I took the first test and realized it was nothing but a glorified math test. My math skills were nearly as rusty as my nonexistent chemistry skills. I came in to chemistry knowing full well that I did not understand it and more so I didn't like it. In fact I quite despise it, but nevertheless I give it my all. Each and every day I try to pay attention and gain an understanding of what is being said. Then I go home and read the chapter, do the homework and study for the quiz. When I think I finally understand it and I take a quiz or test I get quite a shock with the results. I try to keep a positive attitude and keep applying my best efforts but somehow it just doesn't seem to matter. I refuse to give in and withdraw. Who knows I may pay for that decision later. But if I give up I'll never know if I could've made it, besides I have to have it I might as well do it the first time as opposed to doing it over. Chemistry reminds me of plumbing when it comes to tubing sizes there is no rhyme or reason because it's based on so many different standards in the old adage we've always done it this way. I got the biggest kick out of it when I went for tutoring and the tutor could not apply common sense to the problem but merely regurgitated what the professor had said. I feel the best way to understand something is to understand why something is the way it is or how it works but chemistry is kind of like electricity you really can't see it you can only see the results. And when it comes to explanations the professors seem content to say you just need to memorize this as opposed to explaining how. I guess I'm a visual learner and memorizing a bunch of numbers and letters to me is just mumbo-jumbo. But I know I'm not alone because each day the class gets smaller and smaller and the frustration gets higher and higher. I guess I'm very thankful that chemistry teachers are not math teachers because their methods leave a lot to be desired. Can you just imagine a math class without any form of chalkboard to explain the problems. That's the everyday routine in chemistry. I wish chemistry class focused on chemistry and the mathematical portion was taught by a math teacher with an understanding of how to best explain the problems. Word problem seem to be the most difficult in math and that's the principle form of chemistry problem.
Chemistry is my favorite class, if you believe that I got some damp land in Florida I would like to sell. I haven't had chemistry since about 1977 so when I signed up for chemistry I had a completely different idea of what to expect. I studied everything on the PowerPoint slides and the chapter and I was prepared for a comprehensive test. It was quite a shock when I took the first test and realized it was nothing but a glorified math test. My math skills were nearly as rusty as my nonexistent chemistry skills. I came in to chemistry knowing full well that I did not understand it and more so I didn't like it. In fact I quite despise it, but nevertheless I give it my all. Each and every day I try to pay attention and gain an understanding of what is being said. Then I go home and read the chapter, do the homework and study for the quiz. When I think I finally understand it and I take a quiz or test I get quite a shock with the results. I try to keep a positive attitude and keep applying my best efforts but somehow it just doesn't seem to matter. I refuse to give in and withdraw. Who knows I may pay for that decision later. But if I give up I'll never know if I could've made it, besides I have to have it I might as well do it the first time as opposed to doing it over. Chemistry reminds me of plumbing when it comes to tubing sizes there is no rhyme or reason because it's based on so many different standards in the old adage we've always done it this way. I got the biggest kick out of it when I went for tutoring and the tutor could not apply common sense to the problem but merely regurgitated what the professor had said. I feel the best way to understand something is to understand why something is the way it is or how it works but chemistry is kind of like electricity you really can't see it you can only see the results. And when it comes to explanations the professors seem content to say you just need to memorize this as opposed to explaining how. I guess I'm a visual learner and memorizing a bunch of numbers and letters to me is just mumbo-jumbo. But I know I'm not alone because each day the class gets smaller and smaller and the frustration gets higher and higher. I guess I'm very thankful that chemistry teachers are not math teachers because their methods leave a lot to be desired. Can you just imagine a math class without any form of chalkboard to explain the problems. That's the everyday routine in chemistry. I wish chemistry class focused on chemistry and the mathematical portion was taught by a math teacher with an understanding of how to best explain the problems. Word problem seem to be the most difficult in math and that's the principle form of chemistry problem.
A Rocky Start
A Rocky Start
Have you ever had one of those days when you just don't know what to write about? This is one of those days, I have no subject, and no idea what I'm going to talk about. Good thing I have Dragon NaturallySpeaking that well I have to do is talk until the ideas come to mind. Now all I have to do is think of something to talk about, and that's the hard part. It was a long unusually hard day: I struggled with my algebra homework must have hit a rough spot because I normally don't have that much problem with it. Today was the exception, I struggled for hours to accomplish just five problems and I'm still not sure I have them all right. In fact I believe that at least one is incorrect. So that in itself is put in less than desirable mood. But I have to write a blog so here I am about ready to be my head on the desk trying to shake loose some ideas. Who knows maybe something will come to me. Not so far. So just to break up the monotony I tapped on the wind chimes for some entertainment but it didn't last long. I must be bored, just think of on board it's got to be terrible trying to read this. But as I looked out the workout it won't take long hobby halfway there. I'd like to talk about TV shows or anything but I been so busy with homework I haven't had a chance to watch the movies that have piled up either on the DVR or just the store-bought DVDs. Then again there really hasn't been a single it out in the while it seems. I keep waiting for some action movies.
I've been racking my brains for days about what to write my analysis paper on and every time I think I have it, I guess I just don't understand I need to do. When I think of analysis I think of analyzing pieces whether it's information or physical parts and describing them in detail. But it seems the paper is more philosophical than analytical. I'm trying to stay away from the opinionated and focus on the factual and the technical. Something I feel I'm more accustomed to writing about. I looked up several aphorisms most are thought-provoking but can you really write a five page paper based on one clever line of text. That would certainly require a lot of analytical thought. You'd really need to delve deep into your soul and take many avenues to generate enough ideas that can be elaborated into a meaningful whole. When we are asked to analyze the photographs I chose one with many many details because I felt the more details I had the more subjects were available for the choosing. It seemed to work out well and I actually enjoyed it. I enjoyed the challenge of trying to look deep into the picture and see what may be on the subjects mind.
Now I need to channel that same energy into my analysis paper.
Have you ever had one of those days when you just don't know what to write about? This is one of those days, I have no subject, and no idea what I'm going to talk about. Good thing I have Dragon NaturallySpeaking that well I have to do is talk until the ideas come to mind. Now all I have to do is think of something to talk about, and that's the hard part. It was a long unusually hard day: I struggled with my algebra homework must have hit a rough spot because I normally don't have that much problem with it. Today was the exception, I struggled for hours to accomplish just five problems and I'm still not sure I have them all right. In fact I believe that at least one is incorrect. So that in itself is put in less than desirable mood. But I have to write a blog so here I am about ready to be my head on the desk trying to shake loose some ideas. Who knows maybe something will come to me. Not so far. So just to break up the monotony I tapped on the wind chimes for some entertainment but it didn't last long. I must be bored, just think of on board it's got to be terrible trying to read this. But as I looked out the workout it won't take long hobby halfway there. I'd like to talk about TV shows or anything but I been so busy with homework I haven't had a chance to watch the movies that have piled up either on the DVR or just the store-bought DVDs. Then again there really hasn't been a single it out in the while it seems. I keep waiting for some action movies.
I've been racking my brains for days about what to write my analysis paper on and every time I think I have it, I guess I just don't understand I need to do. When I think of analysis I think of analyzing pieces whether it's information or physical parts and describing them in detail. But it seems the paper is more philosophical than analytical. I'm trying to stay away from the opinionated and focus on the factual and the technical. Something I feel I'm more accustomed to writing about. I looked up several aphorisms most are thought-provoking but can you really write a five page paper based on one clever line of text. That would certainly require a lot of analytical thought. You'd really need to delve deep into your soul and take many avenues to generate enough ideas that can be elaborated into a meaningful whole. When we are asked to analyze the photographs I chose one with many many details because I felt the more details I had the more subjects were available for the choosing. It seemed to work out well and I actually enjoyed it. I enjoyed the challenge of trying to look deep into the picture and see what may be on the subjects mind.
Now I need to channel that same energy into my analysis paper.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
When does a Bronco kick like a mule?
When does a Bronco kick like a mule?
It was in the middle the winter and the coldest day of the year it seems when Pauline came in and told me the truck broke down. Where is it, I asked? It's in the driveway, she said, “it restarted.” So began a long painful journey of troubleshooting. I asked several leading questions; did it miss or stumbled before it stopped, did it lose power or die instantly. After several questions I narrowed it down to a faulty ignition, or a failing fuel pump. We had changed the fuel pump out just a couple years ago, so I didn't believe it had failed again so soon. The first-order business was a complete tune-up.
I changed; the Distributor cap and rotor, the spark plugs and plug wires, even the air filter, fuel filter, and ignition coil. When she took it for a ride it flew down the road smooth as glass. I thought for sure I had it but just a few days later the problem reared its ugly head once again. Now what, I thought, could it be the fuel pump. The fuel pump was at least a couple hundred dollars and there is no return if it didn't fix the problem. I would need a fuel pump pressure gauge to verify whether or not it producing adequate pressure.
This problem persisted but it seemed only when I was in the car. I tried and tried to get it to fail so I could check the ignition and see if it was getting in the spark. I hooked a visual spark tester to the ignition coil while she drove the truck. This went on for weeks and I could not get to fail so I could check the status of the ignition. Soon Pauline discovered if you shifted the truck into neutral it seemed to start consistently. Now I have another avenue to investigate, perhaps it's a faulty neutral safety switch. I soon discovered it doesn't have one it has what's called a range selector and it too was quite expensive. But this problem seem consistent in the range selector had been changed once before so we bought a new one and tried again. Once again the problem was fixed but only for a short time, and now you couldn't shifted into neutral to get it to start again.
Back to the old drawing board. Once again, was the fuel pump, or the ignition module? It seemed to fail when the truck got hot, and the ignition module was equipped with cooling fins, hum? It started to make perfect sense, so I replaced it. It ran better, it didn't break during the usual situations, I finally got it fixed. Before long on another very cold day it broke down once again. Pauline had enough and who could blame her. I had one other ignition part left to change but it required removing the distributor from the engine, and that's no small undertaking. So one fine day in December I grabbed a timing light set to work. I marked the number one cylinder on the distributor and remove the cap, lo and behold it was set perfectly a number one top dead center! That was truly one of the million chance. I pulled the distributor out disassembled it and removed the ignition triggering module. I noticed the wires were distorted as if overheated and some of the insulation was bare. I closely examine the module and found tiny metal strands magnetized to the Hall Effect. I surmised this was shorting out the ignition at random times. I replaced the module, and reassembled and reinstalled the distributor. Now I was sure I had the problem. Pauline drove it for weeks and weeks it was never seen or heard from again.
It was in the middle the winter and the coldest day of the year it seems when Pauline came in and told me the truck broke down. Where is it, I asked? It's in the driveway, she said, “it restarted.” So began a long painful journey of troubleshooting. I asked several leading questions; did it miss or stumbled before it stopped, did it lose power or die instantly. After several questions I narrowed it down to a faulty ignition, or a failing fuel pump. We had changed the fuel pump out just a couple years ago, so I didn't believe it had failed again so soon. The first-order business was a complete tune-up.
I changed; the Distributor cap and rotor, the spark plugs and plug wires, even the air filter, fuel filter, and ignition coil. When she took it for a ride it flew down the road smooth as glass. I thought for sure I had it but just a few days later the problem reared its ugly head once again. Now what, I thought, could it be the fuel pump. The fuel pump was at least a couple hundred dollars and there is no return if it didn't fix the problem. I would need a fuel pump pressure gauge to verify whether or not it producing adequate pressure.
This problem persisted but it seemed only when I was in the car. I tried and tried to get it to fail so I could check the ignition and see if it was getting in the spark. I hooked a visual spark tester to the ignition coil while she drove the truck. This went on for weeks and I could not get to fail so I could check the status of the ignition. Soon Pauline discovered if you shifted the truck into neutral it seemed to start consistently. Now I have another avenue to investigate, perhaps it's a faulty neutral safety switch. I soon discovered it doesn't have one it has what's called a range selector and it too was quite expensive. But this problem seem consistent in the range selector had been changed once before so we bought a new one and tried again. Once again the problem was fixed but only for a short time, and now you couldn't shifted into neutral to get it to start again.
Back to the old drawing board. Once again, was the fuel pump, or the ignition module? It seemed to fail when the truck got hot, and the ignition module was equipped with cooling fins, hum? It started to make perfect sense, so I replaced it. It ran better, it didn't break during the usual situations, I finally got it fixed. Before long on another very cold day it broke down once again. Pauline had enough and who could blame her. I had one other ignition part left to change but it required removing the distributor from the engine, and that's no small undertaking. So one fine day in December I grabbed a timing light set to work. I marked the number one cylinder on the distributor and remove the cap, lo and behold it was set perfectly a number one top dead center! That was truly one of the million chance. I pulled the distributor out disassembled it and removed the ignition triggering module. I noticed the wires were distorted as if overheated and some of the insulation was bare. I closely examine the module and found tiny metal strands magnetized to the Hall Effect. I surmised this was shorting out the ignition at random times. I replaced the module, and reassembled and reinstalled the distributor. Now I was sure I had the problem. Pauline drove it for weeks and weeks it was never seen or heard from again.
Brutus
Brutus
When I was about 16 years old someone gave us a pure white French poodle, named Bridget. But the story is about Bridget, or about Bridget's daughter, Henry. It's about Bridget grandson. We don't know who the father was, but he was a German Shepherd. When Henry had her litter my youngest brother had his pick. The story was; he chose the ugly duckling. When it came time for a name he was given a Brutus because it seemed to fit him so well. It is barely four weeks old and his temperament was evident.
But as he grew he displayed a different set of qualities. He once got hit by a car and learn very quickly. He was extremely intelligent and would follow us (me and my four brothers) all over the city without a leash. My older brother trained him to walk at your heel and many other things. When the dog pound picked up one of our other dogs years earlier my father threatened if we didn't keep him on a leash than the SPCA could keep him. So from Brutus's earliest days we trained him to jump fences and return home. It started with very small wire fences no more than 12 inches high. I would jump over and he would try to follow, little by little we increase the height. Soon he was jumping over a 4 foot fence. But when he came to a six-foot fence he crouched down and sprang to the top, and from there he leaped to the ground. We didn't think much more of it until we found a taller fence. We challenged him once again; I climbed over the fence, he whined, whimpered, wagged his tail, and even barked. This went on for a while until we were ready to give up, and just then he crouched down and sprang up as high as he could and began climbing the fence. He climbed all where the top and leaped to the ground. Now we weren't sure no fence to keep them. But we still trained him every time we seen a fence be merely pointed and said, “Brutus over.”
The dog catcher tried many times to get him, but he disliked people in uniforms from his earliest days and he knew his mission was to return home. One day the dog catcher picked him up off the front step because he could not get in the into the house. Somebody seen it happen so my parents went down to get Brutus from the clink. When they arrived and asked for them, the attendant went to get him but he was already gone. Without a doubt be scaled their six-foot fence and was on his way before they could sit down at their chair. This frustrated for dog catcher so he became more determined than ever. Several days had passed and once again they pulled the same stunt. They weren’t going to be made fools of twice so they locked him in a covered cage with many other dogs. This time they called our house with a smug attitude stating they had our dog. Once again, my parents went down to get him and when they went to retrieve him he was gone the cage was empty, and they were furious. They threatened to charge my parents for the recapture of all the other dogs. My mother in turn threatened them for endangering our dog and saying how can you prove that he let those dogs out. This went on for quite a while and by the time my parents got home Brutus was already there.
This story still brightens my day after all these years and they never again attempted to take Brutus to the Big House.
When I was about 16 years old someone gave us a pure white French poodle, named Bridget. But the story is about Bridget, or about Bridget's daughter, Henry. It's about Bridget grandson. We don't know who the father was, but he was a German Shepherd. When Henry had her litter my youngest brother had his pick. The story was; he chose the ugly duckling. When it came time for a name he was given a Brutus because it seemed to fit him so well. It is barely four weeks old and his temperament was evident.
But as he grew he displayed a different set of qualities. He once got hit by a car and learn very quickly. He was extremely intelligent and would follow us (me and my four brothers) all over the city without a leash. My older brother trained him to walk at your heel and many other things. When the dog pound picked up one of our other dogs years earlier my father threatened if we didn't keep him on a leash than the SPCA could keep him. So from Brutus's earliest days we trained him to jump fences and return home. It started with very small wire fences no more than 12 inches high. I would jump over and he would try to follow, little by little we increase the height. Soon he was jumping over a 4 foot fence. But when he came to a six-foot fence he crouched down and sprang to the top, and from there he leaped to the ground. We didn't think much more of it until we found a taller fence. We challenged him once again; I climbed over the fence, he whined, whimpered, wagged his tail, and even barked. This went on for a while until we were ready to give up, and just then he crouched down and sprang up as high as he could and began climbing the fence. He climbed all where the top and leaped to the ground. Now we weren't sure no fence to keep them. But we still trained him every time we seen a fence be merely pointed and said, “Brutus over.”
The dog catcher tried many times to get him, but he disliked people in uniforms from his earliest days and he knew his mission was to return home. One day the dog catcher picked him up off the front step because he could not get in the into the house. Somebody seen it happen so my parents went down to get Brutus from the clink. When they arrived and asked for them, the attendant went to get him but he was already gone. Without a doubt be scaled their six-foot fence and was on his way before they could sit down at their chair. This frustrated for dog catcher so he became more determined than ever. Several days had passed and once again they pulled the same stunt. They weren’t going to be made fools of twice so they locked him in a covered cage with many other dogs. This time they called our house with a smug attitude stating they had our dog. Once again, my parents went down to get him and when they went to retrieve him he was gone the cage was empty, and they were furious. They threatened to charge my parents for the recapture of all the other dogs. My mother in turn threatened them for endangering our dog and saying how can you prove that he let those dogs out. This went on for quite a while and by the time my parents got home Brutus was already there.
This story still brightens my day after all these years and they never again attempted to take Brutus to the Big House.
Snake
Snake
A couple years ago our house roof was leaking, and we decided it would be cheaper to do it ourselves than to hire someone. So I set to work turning off all the old shingles and replacing the roof deck as needed. I found that the roof was in bad shape so I resheathed and reshingled the entire roof. By the end of the job I had aggravated my herniated disc and was unable to clean up the shingles. Months passed and we had attempted to clean up the piles of discarded shingles that lie around the edges of the roof. We even called several companies and were unable to get someone to clean up the mess. It was a big job and no one wanted it. Little by little we gathered all the shingles up in a wheelbarrow, and condensed them into one pile, and still we couldn't get anyone to all away the mass shingles.
With the weather nice Pauline was determined once again to get the shingles on the yard. She called several trash hauling companies and once again no takers, but this time she had leads. We pulled up the classified ads on the Internet and began calling. We had two prospects and one showed up early Saturday morning for an estimate. At first were rather shocked at the price but we decided to go through with it. As the team began the cleanup work I went to work insulating the garage. They were piling shingles on a tarp and hauling them up to the trailer while I was cutting stapling insulation in the walls. This went on for about an hour when I heard a sudden shriek, “snake!” I dropped what I was doing and ran to see what was going on. There in the pile is shingles was a coiled black snake. One of the women was attempting to get out of the pile the pitchfork gingerly lifting the shingles little by little. Because I was installing insulation I had a long sleeved shirt, gloves and a respirator on. I asked people to stand back and reached into you grabbed the snake and flung out of the way. Unfortunately it got hung up on a sapling and it seemed none too happy of its predicament. So this time we left it with a fork and sent it on its way. I went back to work and so did they. In the back of my mind I thought for sure there to run for cover after seeing the snake. It took so long to find somebody to haul away the shingles and now they're frightened by a snake. I guess money is a powerful tool when you need some. They went back to work immediately.
It was hard work and Pauline was concerned about the health of one of the workers so she joined in and as I finished installing a couple sheets of OSB I did the same. We work the rest of the afternoon with them. They found several more snakes but I heard no more shrieks.
A couple years ago our house roof was leaking, and we decided it would be cheaper to do it ourselves than to hire someone. So I set to work turning off all the old shingles and replacing the roof deck as needed. I found that the roof was in bad shape so I resheathed and reshingled the entire roof. By the end of the job I had aggravated my herniated disc and was unable to clean up the shingles. Months passed and we had attempted to clean up the piles of discarded shingles that lie around the edges of the roof. We even called several companies and were unable to get someone to clean up the mess. It was a big job and no one wanted it. Little by little we gathered all the shingles up in a wheelbarrow, and condensed them into one pile, and still we couldn't get anyone to all away the mass shingles.
With the weather nice Pauline was determined once again to get the shingles on the yard. She called several trash hauling companies and once again no takers, but this time she had leads. We pulled up the classified ads on the Internet and began calling. We had two prospects and one showed up early Saturday morning for an estimate. At first were rather shocked at the price but we decided to go through with it. As the team began the cleanup work I went to work insulating the garage. They were piling shingles on a tarp and hauling them up to the trailer while I was cutting stapling insulation in the walls. This went on for about an hour when I heard a sudden shriek, “snake!” I dropped what I was doing and ran to see what was going on. There in the pile is shingles was a coiled black snake. One of the women was attempting to get out of the pile the pitchfork gingerly lifting the shingles little by little. Because I was installing insulation I had a long sleeved shirt, gloves and a respirator on. I asked people to stand back and reached into you grabbed the snake and flung out of the way. Unfortunately it got hung up on a sapling and it seemed none too happy of its predicament. So this time we left it with a fork and sent it on its way. I went back to work and so did they. In the back of my mind I thought for sure there to run for cover after seeing the snake. It took so long to find somebody to haul away the shingles and now they're frightened by a snake. I guess money is a powerful tool when you need some. They went back to work immediately.
It was hard work and Pauline was concerned about the health of one of the workers so she joined in and as I finished installing a couple sheets of OSB I did the same. We work the rest of the afternoon with them. They found several more snakes but I heard no more shrieks.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
A Private Event
A Private Event
I was listening to the radio while I was on my way to school this morning. Perhaps you've heard of the Jan and Phil Show on 104.5. They mentioned they had some big news or more correctly that Phil had some big news to talk about that he had not even shared with Jan. I didn't think much about it I listen to the show now and then as I'm driving to school. I came in the middle of their conversation where Phil said he decided to undergo a sex change operation. They were asking the audience to provide names they could use the new radio show when he became a female. At first I thought I was hearing things or that it was a publicity stunt. But as it wound through I began to realize that perhaps it was not and that he was really serious. This caused so many things to go through my head. First of all, was he gay? Was this a joke? What about his wife; I would've thought he was married. Every time I thought about it the more I thought about the ramifications to his family.
As the reality set in that perhaps this was on the level. I became disturbed by its openness, this was a private matter and yet it was being broadcast to everyone in Wichita to take part in the discussion. The audience was invited to help select a name as though they were naming animal. What next of himself popcorn it sounded like a kernel step right up take a chance and choose a name for Phyllis.
Jan seem to be taking this all in stride and even seemed to almost relish the idea of having a new female partner. I would've much expected her to flip the chair over when she heard the news that someone she worked with for so long was considering such a life altering change. To me it almost seems like a death in the family. Jan was saying the first step in becoming a woman was to get your eyebrows waxed. Is this common knowledge? It certainly isn't to me; I've never heard of anyone that I have known to have a sex change operation; perhaps that's why it was such a shock. I wonder what the average man would think when he heard such a story. To me it seems is painful as when we see someone getting hit in the privates with a baseball; we almost double over in pain and cringe at the thought. That was more than enough information for me.
I decided I didn't want to take part in any of this and from this point forward I would no longer listen to the station and were remove it from the presets on my radio. I don't want to be bombarded with the details of his/her private life. Some things in life do not need to be aired publicly. It's those things that drive today's reality shows and drive the morals of society to an ever decreasing level.
I was listening to the radio while I was on my way to school this morning. Perhaps you've heard of the Jan and Phil Show on 104.5. They mentioned they had some big news or more correctly that Phil had some big news to talk about that he had not even shared with Jan. I didn't think much about it I listen to the show now and then as I'm driving to school. I came in the middle of their conversation where Phil said he decided to undergo a sex change operation. They were asking the audience to provide names they could use the new radio show when he became a female. At first I thought I was hearing things or that it was a publicity stunt. But as it wound through I began to realize that perhaps it was not and that he was really serious. This caused so many things to go through my head. First of all, was he gay? Was this a joke? What about his wife; I would've thought he was married. Every time I thought about it the more I thought about the ramifications to his family.
As the reality set in that perhaps this was on the level. I became disturbed by its openness, this was a private matter and yet it was being broadcast to everyone in Wichita to take part in the discussion. The audience was invited to help select a name as though they were naming animal. What next of himself popcorn it sounded like a kernel step right up take a chance and choose a name for Phyllis.
Jan seem to be taking this all in stride and even seemed to almost relish the idea of having a new female partner. I would've much expected her to flip the chair over when she heard the news that someone she worked with for so long was considering such a life altering change. To me it almost seems like a death in the family. Jan was saying the first step in becoming a woman was to get your eyebrows waxed. Is this common knowledge? It certainly isn't to me; I've never heard of anyone that I have known to have a sex change operation; perhaps that's why it was such a shock. I wonder what the average man would think when he heard such a story. To me it seems is painful as when we see someone getting hit in the privates with a baseball; we almost double over in pain and cringe at the thought. That was more than enough information for me.
I decided I didn't want to take part in any of this and from this point forward I would no longer listen to the station and were remove it from the presets on my radio. I don't want to be bombarded with the details of his/her private life. Some things in life do not need to be aired publicly. It's those things that drive today's reality shows and drive the morals of society to an ever decreasing level.
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