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The new world record, a 98.4-foot drop, courtesy of Tao Berman. Read the story here.

From 2001: A Space Odyssey: "Amy man who had ever worked in a hardened missle site would have felt at home in Clavius. Here on the moon were the same arts and hardware of underground living, and of protection against a hostile environment; but here they had been turned to the puposes of peace. After ten thousand years, Man had at last found something as exciting as war.
Unfortunately, not all nations had yet realized that fact."
Disturbingly prescient, I would suggest.

This is the oldest map of America, drawn by the Turkish Admiral Piri Reis in 1513. This site offers a an interesting look at the man, an Ottoman-era seaman who "was not content to secure for his country more powers and victories but left written works on the science of navigation, which have survived to this day." The guy was quite prolific and made stunning voyages, most of which have obviously been overshadowed by the more westernized mythos of European domination of the sixteenth-century seas. The site suffers a bit in the translation but it fascinating otherwise. From Reis' observations:
I. There is a kind of red dye called vakami, that you do not observe at first, because it is at a distance . . . the mountains contain rich ores. . . . There some of the sheep have silken wool. II. This country is inhabited. The entire population goes naked. III. This region is known as the vilayet of Antilia. It is on the side where the sun sets. They say that there are four kinds of parrots, white, red, green and black. The people eat the flesh of parrots and their headdress is made entirely of parrots' feathers. There is a stone here. It resembles black touchstone. The people use it instead of the ax. That it is very hard . . . [illegible]. jPe saw that stone.

Gimmickry redux

Well in the interest of continued tinkering of the site, I have created a "favicon" that appears next to the URL when you load the page. Also, it appears beside the link when you save it to your Favorites file, so try deleting the old link and updating your Favorites file. Why? Well, I can't really say.

I pity the fool

The T-inator is well, really stupid. Just what every site needs.

If only Huck Finn had been a kayaker...

Ah, a day on the river. The sun was just shining all over the whole place today, so I moseyed down to the river and set up shop in the sand, Scout trotting along with me. The water wasn't as high as I'd like, but it was playable. And nice and cold. So cold that me and this fellow Mike I'd just met decided we'd try and bodysurf the wave, instead of the more traditional method of using our boats. Well, if the Mulberry Fork was the gene pool, I deserved my dunking. I walked out into the current and tried to wade towards the shallow spot right in front of the wave, but for some reason I got pushed downstream. Go figure! I ended up getting tossed into the wave and washed out of it toward some rocks. Hardly the body surfing experience I'd envisioned. Luckily I had my lucky Snickers bar wrappers with me, so I wasn't hurt. Maybe I should just stick to this?

The thing we must remember, every day of our waking lives, is that it is an incredible blessing to be alive. I'm glad all of you could make it.

Camping, tonight

It's probably too late but anyone who wants to go camping at Devil's Den Falls tonight, meet at my house shortly after 5:00 p.m. Bring a bathing suit and a tent.

1 parsec = 19,173,514,177,205.12 miles

Do you remember the scene in Star Wars when Obi-Wan and Luke are in that bar in Mos Eislee and Han is trying to convince them the Millennium Falcon is fast enough for them? He says, with only slight modesty, "She's done the Kessel-run in just 8 parsecs." Or something like that. Luke and Obi-Wan are visibly impressed and/or sceptical, and ever since I've wondered just what in the hell a parsec was. Well, now I know. Thanks to onlineconversions.com, you can convert feet to meters, pints to hogsheads, and jiggers to drams. Anyone for a peck of beer?

Happy Birthday, Shakespeare!

Adam reminded me that the bard was born today, 438 years ago. A toast to the greatest playwright this world has ever seen. Cheers!

This is my favorite part of Henry IV part I, where Falstaff, a fat, bawdy carouser is playing roles with England's Prince Hal in a tavern in Cheapside, London. Hal has been neglecting his princely duties to run with ruffians for a while, but he and everyone else knows that one day he must forsake his rapscallion friends and assume his princely duties. In this fake interview, Falstaff is pretending to be the king asking his son, Prince Hal, why he is wasting his time with these degenerates (except for Falstaff, of course). Hal, playing himself, puts up with Falstaff's trumpeting of his own virtues for a while, but ends the silly dialogue with a sobering coda. FALSTAFF And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility. Hostess O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith! FALSTAFF Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain. Hostess O, the father, how he holds his countenance! FALSTAFF For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen; For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. Hostess O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry players as ever I see! FALSTAFF Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain. Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion, but chiefly a villanous trick of thine eye and a foolish-hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point; why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall the sun of England prove a thief and take purses? a question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in drink but in tears, not in pleasure but in passion, not in words only, but in woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man whom I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. PRINCE HENRY What manner of man, an it like your majesty? FALSTAFF A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye and a most noble carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r lady, inclining to three score; and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month? PRINCE HENRY Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and I'll play my father. FALSTAFF Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a poulter's hare. PRINCE HENRY Well, here I am set. FALSTAFF And here I stand: judge, my masters. PRINCE HENRY Now, Harry, whence come you? FALSTAFF My noble lord, from Eastcheap. PRINCE HENRY The complaints I hear of thee are grievous. FALSTAFF 'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle ye for a young prince, i' faith. PRINCE HENRY Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace: there is a devil haunts thee in the likeness of an old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing? FALSTAFF I would your grace would take me with you: whom means your grace? PRINCE HENRY That villanous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. FALSTAFF My lord, the man I know. PRINCE HENRY I know thou dost. FALSTAFF But to say I know more harm in him than in myself, were to say more than I know. That he is old, the more the pity, his white hairs do witness it; but that he is, saving your reverence, a whoremaster, that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, God help the wicked! if to be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know is damned: if to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant, being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. PRINCE HENRY I do, I will.

As heard on NPR

"Fifty years ago this week, a one-page report published in the British science journal Nature revolutionized science. In it, James Watson and Francis Crick described the three-dimensional structure of DNA..." You can read the paper, published April 1953, here.

I am now... employed

Indeed I am now wandering in the land of the wage-earners, the bread-winners, the rent-payers. After registering with four head-hunting agencies, I was finally offered a job with a very large concrete company, helping their European divisions develop a plan to come into accordance with the Kyoto Protocol (this means they pollute). Today was my second day, and did you know that the production of cement (which is different from concrete) releases thousands of pounds of CO2 into the air? The cement itself isn't bad, but the burning of coal to make the stuff is. Now you know. I, too felt empowered upon hearing this. However, the heady physics have subsided for the moment and now I'm making calls to places like the National Association of Homebuilders, the Home Builders Institute, the Association of Builders and Contractors, and (lo and behold) the Concrete Foundation Association of America (!!!) for new and amazing tidbits of knowledge. This is profound stuff here, folks. According to my boss, it was very important that I found how much concrete goes into a typical American home -- 13.97 tons (!!!!) -- and he was really excited and even gave me a high-five. If my name had been on the bulletin board, I would've gotten a gold star, too. I was just glad to know that there's an association for people who lay concrete foundations. I don't know where we would be without one. Onward and upward! (!!!!)

Ernie Pylish

Here is a really good essay on the ground war in Iraq, written from the front lines. A quality piece about the good 'ol foot soldiers who must do the work "smart" bombs cannot do.

Help this little guy...or else

This is from tha S-A dog, or Sally-Anne as her whitebread friends know her. Cough up a fiver, yo.

"The following message is from my good friend in Abilene, whose 10-year-old (see photo below!) is the reigning national Tae Kwon Do champ in his age category and is quickly headed for world domination. If you want to throw a fiver their way and get your name on his t-shirt so you can later say that you knew -- and sponsored! -- the famous Alex Hollibaugh back in the day, let me know and I'll give you the address... Ok folks, you have one shot to support the Texas Taekwondo Team! Since Alex is now a team member, you are being given the opportunity to show your support of this athlete by sponsoring him. Any donation of $5 or more will get your name on his sponsorship T-shirt and any donation of $40 or more will get you, the sponsor, an "I sponsored a Junior Olympian -- 2003" T-shirt. Also, if you think you can find others to assist with these fund-raising efforts, I'll send your a sign-up sheet! Any checks should be written out to Keith or I since we opened the team account. Oh, and make sure to include your address so the kids can write thank you notes later (and a T-shirt size if applicable)! Thanks everybody!"

Hangin' on

Oh lord, this is funny. It's supercat!

Will work for food

I cannot believe how hard it is to find a job right now. I have sent resumes to several companies adverising positions I would be perfect for, yet they all seem to fill up right before I get there. I'm signed up with four personnel agencies! I guess I knew what I was getting into when I decided to be an English major, but I wasn't expecting this. And the thing is, it's only going to get worse. I should have stayed in Spain..

So that's where he went..

Prices are getting cheaper, apparently

um..

well, I have in fact always wanted to fly.

Got art?

It's Artomat! Get your instant art here (exact change required).

Want to buy a satellite photo of your house or property? You can do it cheap here.

... an Irish Palm Pilot ...

"Mr Sahaf's (the Iraqi information minister) apotheosis came on Monday April 7th. With American tanks occupying the Baghdad parade ground, he stood calmly a couple of hundred yards away, on the roof of the Palestine Hotel, to tell reporters that none of this was really happening. Smiling extra-wide, he said: 'Don't repeat the lies of the liars.'"

Here's a good article on my favorite thing about this war, the "minister of misinformation" himself, and another one on his hilarious overly-optimistic reports.

eChess

This site is interesting if any of you play chess or want to learn about the masters. The site has famous games in javascript that you can follow play-by-play and read commentary on each move. I need help, though. This game ends with what I would consider a very strange move, yet critic Anne Sunnucks says "Many respected critics consider this stroke to be the single most amazing move of chess ever actually executed on a chess-board." Really? See if you can figure out why. Also, learn to play here.

Bush Regales Dinner Guests with Impromptu Oratory on Virgil's Minor Works

from the Onion WASHINGTON, DC—President Bush delighted an intimate gathering of White House dinner guests Monday, regaling the coterie of dignitaries, artists, and friends with a spirited, off-the-cuff discussion of the Roman poet Virgil's lesser-known works. "Ah, W. was in top form tonight," Spanish foreign minister Josep Pique Camps said. "We were all held captive by his erudition and charm. First, a brief history of the opium trade, then a bit of Brahms on the piano, then a rousing discussion of Virgil. That boy is a wonder, isn't he?" According to guests, the subject of Virgil arose serendipitously when a servant opened a window in the Red Room, to which the group had retired for after-dinner drinks. Noticing the breeze, Bush raised his glass and delivered a toast to the changing of the seasons. He then apologized to "lovely Winter," explaining that he "meant no slight against her." "The first blush of Spring always reminds me of Virgil's words," Bush said. "In early spring-tide, when the icy drip / Melts from the mountains hoar, and Zephyr's breath / Unbinds the crumbling clod, even then 'tis time / Press deep your plough behind the groaning ox / And teach the furrow-burnished share to shine." "Book One of The Georgics, of course," Bush added. Bush arranged the small, informal dinner in honor of Camps' unexpected arrival in the U.S. "It had been too long since I'd heard one of W.'s anecdotes, so I simply got on a plane," Camps said. "I showed up at his doorstep with a watercolor by Ignat Bednarik, whom I know he adores, just to make sure he'd let me in." Bush confessed that he has "long held a fascination with the classical world," noting that his love of Roman history influenced his decision to enter politics. "Virgil was born in the year 70 B.C.—let's see, that would be during the consulship of Gnaeus Pompeius The Great and Marcus Licinius Crassus, if I'm not mistaken," Bush said. "It is said that while Virgil's mother was with child, she dreamt she gave birth to a laurel branch, which, upon touching the ground, sprang up into a full-grown tree, its branches laden with ripe fruits and flowers. The next morning, she gave birth to Virgil. The legend goes that Virgil was born without crying, so mild was his countenance." According to White House regulars, it is not uncommon for Bush to engage guests in discussions of whatever subject strikes his fancy, from the symphony playing in the background to the history of a style of jewelry a guest happens to be wearing. "I love to hear George hold court on this or that," said Bush family friend and world-renowned physicist Norberta Münter. "I tell him he is such a spoiled brat, the way he demands our attention, but I must confess I can't take my eyes off him when he does." As the group sipped apple martinis and, in Bush's words, "recovered" from the Chilean sea bass, the president continued. "Most primarily associate Publius Vergilius Maro with The Aeneid, " Bush told guests. "Yet so much pleasure is to be found in his lesser-known works—The Eclogues, completed in 37 B.C., and The Georgics, in 30 B.C., both of which praise the idyllic rural life." "You have to remember I'm a bit of a farm boy myself," chuckled Bush, referring to his 1,600-acre ranch in Crawford, TX. "The Bucolics are my personal favorite," Bush said. "They were basically a thank-you to Asinius Pollio for preventing the seizure of Virgil's land by the Triumvirate when they ordered the lands on the far banks of the river Po distributed to veterans of the victory at Philippi. They are so sublime, so inspirational. But why should I speak, when Virgil can do so himself? And far more eloquently, I might add." Bush then recited a selection from The Bucolics in the original Latin, pausing occasionally to translate into French out of respect for his friend Amélie du Maurier, a young Parisian concert violinist in attendance. Earlier in the evening, a blushing du Maurier admitted to Bush that she did not know Latin. Bush eased the young woman's embarrassment with a joke. "I wouldn't be surprised if your father forbade you from learning Latin, out of sheer distaste for res publica," said Bush, alluding to du Maurier's ancestors' place in the ousted French aristocracy. Despite urging from guests to continue his Bucolics recitation, Bush declined. "I have already taken up far too much of your valuable time with my classical natterings," Bush said. "I dearly wish I could give you back this hour during which you so graciously indulged my dilettantism, but, as Plautus said, 'Factum est illud, fieri infectum non potest.' Done is done, it cannot be made undone."

Brave New World

The enormous room on the ground floor faced towards the north. Cold for all the summer beyond the panes, for all the tropical heat of the room itself, a harsh thin light glared through the windows, hungrily seeking some draped lay figure, some pallid shape of academic goose-flesh, but finding only the glass and nickel and bleakly shining porcelain of a laboratory. Wintriness responded to wintriness. The overalls of the workers were white, their hands gloved with a pale corpse-coloured rubber. The light was frozen, dead, a ghost. Only from the yellow barrels of the microscopes did it borrow a certain rich and living substance, lying along the polished tubes like butter, streak after luscious streak in long recession down the work tables.

Now that we've almost taken Bagdhad, it seems like a good time to ask ourselves: Why, again, are we invading Iraq? In case you have questions, read this - A Warmonger Explains the War to a Peacenik.

Just in case you've been wondering how the beginning of John Milton's Paradise Lost went, here it is, compliments of ClassicReader.com.

Man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste Brought death into the World, and all our woe, With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, Sing, Heavenly Muse, that, on the secret top Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire That shepherd who first taught the chosen seed In the beginning how the heavens and earth Rose out of Chaos: or, if Sion hill Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed Fast by the oracle of God, I thence Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song, That with no middle flight intends to soar Above th' Aonian mount, while it pursues Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. And chiefly thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer Before all temples th' upright heart and pure, Instruct me, for thou know'st; thou from the first Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread, Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast Abyss, And mad'st it pregnant: what in me is dark Illumine, what is low raise and support; That, to the height of this great argument, I may assert Eternal Providence, And justify the ways of God to men.

Another thing. I've obviously redone my site, in order to simplify it and reduce the time it takes to load and view. Is it working? If you've viewed the site recently, does it load faster now? Slower? Any input would help. Grazie.

Well, back to the grind. There comes a point in any extended trip where you become comfortable with your new situation; you meld into the circumstances, make the strange feel like home. Moving to a new hostel every other night wasn't exactly what I'd call relaxing, but I'd say I got got used to it. Even looked forward to it, the new sights, sounds, views, etc. But it is this ability to quickly get used to one's circumstances that makes coming "home" so very strange. Indeed, I love walking into my apartment after I've been gone for a while. There's this sense of odd familiarity, and the objective feeling of looking at my life from another perspective. It only lasts a while, alas. But I like to just sit in my armchair and look around my place for while, and before long the old self settles in. Only with greater depth.

So now I'm back and, well, I need a job. Anyone know who's hiring? Will reminisce about European travels for money..

Howdy all-- Debbie and I made it back yesterday with no problems other than an intense need for sleep. Our flight was delightfully uneventful, and my brother Jim found us at the airport with no problem. However, the first thing we did upon arriving in Birmingham was eat a big fat Mexican meal at Villa Fiesta in Irondale, and it was soo good. Its funny how after a month tasting European delicacies, the thing we've been craving most was a cheap margharita and a bowl of cheese dip.

Anyway, we have many stories and can't wait to see and talk to everyone. Today Debbie is working at the Hope Lodge and I am trying to figure out how to get a job in a very short peroid of time, but we'll see everybody soon. Thanks for keeping up with us!