I don't like Monster.com. I had a feeling I didn't like Monster, but it was thoughts from Scott Adams that helped me pin it down exactly. Basically because it casts a net so wide, unless you're the cream of the crop you're pretty much boned trying to land a job with any employer that advertises there.

See, before Monster (and arguably the internet), I could conceivably get a job in IT because it came down to a small range around the company that could be searched for employees. Maybe nobody else in range of the newspaper has better qualifications than I do and they need someone to start fairly soon. I might land the job because I'm not the best ever, but I'm the best that could be found. Works for me!

But with Monster around... well... you can comb through applicants from all over the nation! How can I compete with someone on the east coast that has a degree, five years experience and will pay their own relocation because they always wanted to soak up the sun on the Pacific Coast? Small fish like me pretty much disappear once they're dropped into a huge pond like that.

Fur Affinity is no different. It's a nexus point for all kinds of artists and talent. But let's face it: Unless you're a visual artist and you are pretty damn good (and draw adult images from time to time) then you are lost in the muddle. How do I compete with the likes of or ? And those are just the ones that I think of off the top of my mind. What about or ? I sit and look at how many comments can get from just his prompt writing, or watching as gains momentum (and watchers) with his recent stories. And how am I supposed to feel when someone like , who I have always admired for his artistic talents, tells me that he feels inferior to some of the artists on here?

I'm knocking shoulders with the giants and pretty much getting bruised and battered. Just like on Monster.com, only the very best cream rises to the top here. Once that's been skimmed off, everything else is just thrown out without a second glance.

I had a little flash of realization a last week. I don't normally respond to comments people leave on my submissions, and I wondered... is that a reason people might not leave comments in the first place? After all, everyone wants to know someone is on the other end listening.

Thing is, Fur Affinity's comment system is really pretty clumsy. Sure it's no problem to reply to comments when you have a handful of them, but what about some people here who can easily lay down 50 comments in two hours? Do you respond to all of them? Only a select few? How do you decide who gets a response and who doesn't? And if you do reply to a lot of comments, I feel it kind of clutters up the comment section, not to mention inflating your comment count.

Furthermore, I think I'm just not a fan of threaded comments. It pretty much forces you to respond to everyone individually if you want them to know you've responded to them. Make note of this moment, because I don't have a lot of good things to say about Facebook. But they know how to do comments. Un-threaded and once you comment, you get notified of all new comments that are added. It's a lot more like a forum post.

This would work a lot better for me. I'd love to just lay down a comment that says 'Thanks everyone, I appreciate your feedback' and then maybe call out some individual shots. And I can do that here, but nobody who has commented before would have any clue I had said anything. The only way to notify the people who have already left comments is to comment on everyone's comment, and that's cumbersome and looks funny (at least to me).

So I guess what I'm trying to say to all my watchers who still read my journals... I always welcome and enjoy your comments. I may not be so sure how to show it, but I'm always happy to get comments and hear from all of you and what you think of my submissions. I'll see what I can do to maybe make it better known... but in the mean time, please remember I'm happy all of you are watching. Hopefully now and then I provide you with something you like.

Cheers.

"Futures made of virtual insanity.
Now always seem, to be governed by this love we have,
For useless, twisting, of our new technology.
Oh now there is no sound for we all live underground."

forwarded me an excellent, excellent, excellent piece that theorizes on why we haven't met any other advanced races in the universe. And the long and short of the idea is that instead of reaching out, they turned inwards. They got so fascinated with collecting the shiny pennies in their civilization that they forgot about everything else.

Essentially, our bodies have indirect cues that we use to judge our fitness levels. Not anything as concrete as physical fitness like weight or cholesterol levels. Call them social fitness indicators. But there are so many, our brains have created shortcut maps of what leads to fitness. Want reproductive success? Well, good food and good mates tend to lead that way.

Society has figured out how to feed us these cues without really properly satisfying the need. Simulations that are much easier and convenient than doing the actual work, but still press all the right buttons to make us think we're staying socially fit. Can't get good food and good mates? How about fast food and pornography instead? It'll feel just as good...

It's so much easier to round up a group of guild mates and team up to take down a huge monster than to get a real group together to play over the line at the local park. It's also a lot less physically taxing (think you could really run around as much as you do in your favorite MMO? I'm sure I couldn't). And yet, I bet you get the same high and celebrate just as hard with the guild mates after felling the monster as you would with your team when you hit that home run.

Need met. Your brain doesn't care how it happened, just that it feels good. Calling EverQuest "EverCrack" was probably closer to the scary truth than any of us really want to admit. Because how many people do you know whose lives consist of work and World of Warcraft? WoW (or EverQuest or Second Life) has become their entire social existence. Their brain thinks they have a perfectly healthy social system while they spend hours in front of a monitor, rotting away physically.

(I know two, with a possible third, by the way. And that's just WoW. Because the ones that have succumbed to SL don't even hang out on the MUCKs or IMs anymore)

Reading this theory seems to have filled in a piece of my mind, one of those things that I could never put my finger on. But now I think it explains perfectly why I'm so wary of things like Second Life or even Facebook. Millions of people every day pretend to talk to all their friends (sometimes hundreds of them) but are you really talking? Or are you telling them what's going on (or posting witty sayings or sharing links) and moving on to the next thing in your busy, busy life?

Wow. Facebook is fast-food conversation. Cheap and easy, just as satisfying as the real thing, but empty of anything truly good for you. We're far too busy to actually sit down and have a real conversation with our friends and family.

Hell, I've been uneasy since the days of Livejournal. Seriously, when Livejournal was booming, did you ever ask someone how they were doing and they looked at you incredulously and asked if you had read their Livejournal. I know I got it plenty of times, and every time I did, it made me sad. It was a message loud and clear that they did not have enough time to sit down and actually talk to me about what was going on; to have a real conversation.

And now the next logical extension is being able to hit these social networking sites from everywhere else. Look at Vizio's new web-enabled TVs that let you access Facebook from your living room. Or the Motorola Backflip, specifically made to keep you in tune with Facebook, Twitter and instant messaging in real time. You never have to be alone again, no matter where you are! How's that for making sure you feel good all the time?

And before you warm up your keyboard to ask me what kind of life I'm living... well I'm not perfect. MUCKs have become a big social replacement in my life. I haven't really reached out much to meet new people since moving, and I think a very big part of that is my online social system. Why should I go out and meet new physical people when all my old friends are still here with me? And yes, I spend my Thursday evenings with Booth and Brennan or Bailey and Karev instead of talking or playing games with the friends down the street.

I've come to understand some things about the world, and frankly now I'm a little frightened at my new understanding. Things that I wish I could post for discussion, but I dare not because I don't have asbestos underwear strong enough to survive the resulting flamewar. Suffice to say, I'm one of many on the Titanic jumping up and down shouting 'ICEBERG!' while the rest of the people keep on dancing. It's just that some of us are shouting a lot louder than others.

"They don’t need Sentinels to enslave them in a Matrix; they do it to themselves, just as we are doing today. Once they turn inwards to chase their shiny pennies of pleasure, they lose the cosmic plot. They become like a self-stimulating rat, pressing a bar to deliver electricity to its brain’s ventral tegmental area, which stimulates its nucleus accumbens to release dopamine, which feels… ever so good."

So there I was last weekend, standing on a platform at the ninth turn of an internationally renowned street circuit, flagging professional drivers in a national series race that was being broadcast live on TV across the country. And somehow, I felt right at home, like it was business as usual.

Which on further consideration, I thought was kind of sad. This isn't exactly something everybody does in their everyday life. It's not even something I do in my everyday life. And certainly there are those out there who think it's incredible and would jump at the chance to do it (just like me three years ago).

The point of this journal is maybe it's time to re-examine our lives and look at what has become boring and routine that really is anything but. I can't tell you how many artists I see (of every type of media) that show something and say it's crap, or it was a quick sketch, or it's not very good because they were rushed. When really it's quite amazing by my standards. It's like they have become numb to what they do because they do it regularly and they're used to it.

Why don't we all stop, take a breath and really look at what we do. I bet some of us do some truly amazing things that others can only wish they were able to do. Business as usual might just be anything but.

Let me tell you how it will be;
There's one for you, nineteen for me.
'Cause I'm the taxman,
Yeah, I'm the taxman...

Ah, April. When one's thoughts turn to the government and how much they're going to give or take from your wallet. There's nothing better than a nice, fat tax return from Uncle Sam, right? Must be, since that's what all the tax preparers seem to emphasize. Time to buy a nice little present.

Except for one thing. It's your money.

That's right. When you do the form and find out you're getting $1800 back? That's not a magical gift from the government. That's $1800 extra they took from you over the course of the year. Imagine what you could have done with an extra $150 a month, and you're just getting it back now.

The way I figure, the ideal situation (one that the self-employed are all too familiar with and one you probably can't do if employed by someone else) would be to have no withholding from your paycheck. The government takes nothing, but now you need the incredible self-discipline to put aside money for taxes. Let's say... $100 a month, $1200 total. What if you put that $100 a month into a savings account? Or put the entire $1200 into a one-year CD up front? Now the money that the government is going to get is working for you while you have it.

(Yeah, it was a lot better back in the salad days when my savings account was making 4.25% instead of 1.50%... but you get the idea. And any interest is earned money.)

As this tax season draws to a close, all I'm saying is remember: That nice fat return isn't found money, it was your money all along. You just didn't have access to it until the government gave it back to you.

I keep seeing ads on TV for Battlefield Bad Company 2, and I really can't believe what I'm seeing. Between that, The Show, and Final Fantasy XIII, game graphics just keep getting better.

(For Christ's sake, you can see the Alpinestar logos stitched into the driver's gloves in that last shot)

These games make reality look dull. The world I live in doesn't have eye-popping colors or these kinds of details. You can't get these great views and angles without putting yourself in harm's way. And in this world, I'm an unemployed, frustrated adult. Wouldn't it be so much better to be a soldier on the battlefield, or a race car driver or a player on an MLB team? Why sit around on the couch when you could be going hand-to-hand with a fantastical army of evil?

What happens to people when Second Life gets graphics like F1 2010, or Final Fantasy XIII? Do they ever leave the house? Do they ever leave the computer chair? Does the computer ever get turned off? Do people quit jobs so they can exist full-time in Second Life? Or do people find ways to support themselves so they can live there instead? They just have to take those pesky breaks to attend to their biological needs (something which I'm sure will be solved too in short order).

Look, I'm not saying that games with stunning graphics are the end of the world. I'm just amazed at how far they've come in my lifetime (stay tuned for that journal). I have played an actual Atari 2600 VCS. Look at a screen from a 2600 game, then look at one of the examples from the first paragraph.

Seriously, look at The Show again. Can you really tell reality from fantasy?

Remember the joke about how when Virtual Reality becomes good enough and cheap enough that guys can go on a virtual date, then the human race is doomed? Are we there yet?

Because with games like these, who needs reality?

On January 18th, 2004, Strictly Kev (aka DJ Food) premiered a masterpiece mix of music taken from the latter half of the 20th century. Titled 'Raiding the 20th Century - A History of the Cut-up', it aired on XFM in London and was a 40-minute mix-and-mash from all corners of the aural landscape. It became so popular that the demand for it caused a complete server crash at boomselection.info when they hosted a copy of it after airing.

It's an amazing piece of work, more than just a mix, more than just a mash-up... sometimes with several layers all working together. Will Smith on top of The Who, with a dash of Black Sabbath makes for a tasty sonic dish! And just when you think it's all music and mixes, it slows down, takes a breath and lets us listen to interviews and stories before ramping back up into mania.

After the release, Strictly Kev read 'Words & Music' by Paul Morley and was surprised to see how the book mirrored many sections of 'Raiding'. Not to mention that Morley had coined the phrase 'Raiding the 20th Century' nearly two decades ago for a future Art of Noise project.

What was left to do but collaborate with Morley and make the definitive document on the history of the cut-up? And thus, 'Raiding the 20th Century Redux' was born. The new version was re-mixed, re-arranged and expanded to a full hour with passages from Morley's book read by the author and more in-depth interviews from prominent 20th century music-makers. Exactly one year after the original version aired on XFM, the redux became available to the public. It has a lot more of a documentary feel, but is no less energetic or engaging.

I hope you enjoy them both, they're much-loved staples of my music collection. They're long pieces, but think of them as a sonic journey where you sit back and enjoy the scenery.

(Background information on both pieces gathered from ubuweb:sound)

This one goes out to all my unemployed and underemployed homies. Better days are out there... we just gotta survive until we get to 'em!

---

Well don't have no money cause I don't have a job,
Don't have a job cause I ain't got no skills.
Ain't got no skills 'cause I was not trained,
I was not trained 'cause I didn't go to school.
Didn't go to school 'cause nobody told me,
Nobody told me 'cause nobody knew $#!+.
Nobody knew $#!+ 'cause nobody knows nothing,
Nobody knows nothing and that's just it.

What can you do?

Cars do more and more these days. They do so much more than just get us where we're going. It's almost as if even the most basic models can get you where you're going so now manufacturers need to pepper their cars with crazy new technology to make them stand apart from rivals. Actually, I'm sure of it, but that's another journal for another time.

I used to sneer at features like stability control, because let's face it, you should know your car well enough to not push it over the limit. Or if you do, you should know how to recover when you get into trouble. But we're not all race car drivers with fine-tuned senses and fast reflexes. And I'm sure all my SoCal friends can agree that the freeway is hundreds of times more dangerous than the track, even when you're doing 110 at the track at 65 on the freeway, You all know my enthusiasm for racing, but even I've been saved by anti-lock brakes and the R32's stability program has reeled me in from trouble now and again.

What I absolutely cannot accept are safety features that make up for basic defects in driver skill or sense. I'm not thrilled with the latest round of ads from Mercedes-Benz touting the features of their car. The reminder to stop and take a break every two hours isn't a bad one, but it's something any of us should keep in mind while on long-distance drives. I can give that one a pass.

But I have always been bugged by cars that have an alert for when you're drifting out of your lane. Anyone who is distracted enough that they can't keep their car in their own lane should not be driving! I don't care if it's a phone call, the kids in the back seat or a Victoria's Secret model on a billboard. You drift out of your lane, you're not paying enough attention. End of story. Sure, I'm guilty of drifting out of my own lane. I'm not a perfect driver. But I don't need something in my car to remind me about it. I start paying attention again, realize my mistake and correct it.

And they go on to tout how the car will help you come to a stop if you're going to rear-end someone or something. They show the Benz at what can't possibly be more than a car-length behind a tanker-trailer. And of course the tanker has to brake for something, and the people in the Benz are "saved" by the wonderful new safety feature. Yeah, guess what? Maybe if you weren't riding the tanker's ass you'd have more time to react and safely stop!

The bigger issue I have is I'm afraid these safety features that intervene on behalf of the driver make people think they're invincible. They're good to have when you get in an unexpected jam (like a wild animal or a wild lunatic behind the wheel), but you can't drive around doing whatever you like because you know the system is going to save you. And is it me, or is that the vibe I get in the latest round of ads for Ford's AWD vehicles? That with their AWD, you can master the elements! Tell me this isn't encouraging people in Ford AWD vehicles to drive "normally" when it's pouring rain? AWD is fun and makes a car handle better, but it does not make you invincible or give you a free pass to drive like a hoon.

One of the features I like about VW's ESP and ASR systems is that a light flashes on the dash to let you know it's saving your ass. If you have some sort of stability program that quietly does it's job, how are you ever going to know you're over-driving the limits of your vehicle? I doubt you will... until you step into a new vehicle that doesn't save you. And then what are you going to do?

A while ago I was looking through Craigslist for job opportunities and I found an advert for an IT networking position. It was the usual fare, except in the middle, it said "If your experience with networking is at LAN parties or home networking, don't even bother to apply."

Now don't get me wrong, I understand why they said that. They don't want every two-bit yahoo that can plug LAN cables into a switch and the switch into a router to think they can do the job. That's fair. I think they could be less snarky about it, but it's fair.

But as I sat at my desktop system, telnetted into my Debian server trying to troubleshoot a problem with the RSA key used between the remote name control client and BIND so that the init script would finally work right, it just struck me as funny. And as I sat there, troubleshooting the auto-update between the DHCP server and BIND so that it would store and resolve local addresses on my dual-subnetted network, it made me chuckle

Sure, my home network is probably the exception and not the rule. Hell, I know it is. It just frustrates me and aggravates me that I have such a wealth of hands-on knowledge with what could be considered advanced Linux networking... but because it's not in a work environment, I am completely unsuitable for employment.

Someday, I hope this discrimination against the self-taught is overcome.

I liked the look of Repo Men from the teasers. Repossessing artificial organs? Creepy! Now that it's two weeks out and the trailers are hitting the TV (and the plot is revealed) I like it even more. I'm resigned to the fact that I'm going to like the concept a lot more than the execution... but I still want to see it. Never has a Volkswagen Touareg looked so badass!

The creepiest thing of all about it? The verification page on the website for the red-band trailer. It's knows me. It *@&#ing KNOWS ME! This is not unbridled paranoia!

The site asks for first name, last name, ZIP code and DoB. Okay, that's a lot of information so why don't we feed it just the ZIP code and DoB. Nuh uh, "We are unable to verify your identity". Hmmm... it must know I'm leaving the name fields blank. I feed it first initial and last name. Bzzzt! Still can't verify my identity, so I give it full first name... still no dice.

Well, now what? Is it broken? I'm giving it everything it wants and it still says it can't verify my identity. A ruse? On a whim, I change the ZIP code to my old SoCal address... and it accepts it and launches the red-band trailer. o_O Holy cow, it actually verified who I was and where I used to live, so it has access to _some_ kind of on-line database that had a previous billing address.

The hacker mindset kicked in and I beat up the verification a bit more. First initial with full last name works, but it definitely ties it to the ZIP code. The DoB seems to be independent... it checks the date range first and then goes after who you actually are. So you can verify who you are and then punch in a bogus DoB that makes you seem older than you are... but if they know who you are, don't think it's not all being logged somewhere. If there is a complaint in the future, they have proof that a verified person was there forging the birth date. I suppose if you get a hold of someone else's information you can get in.

Go ahead, try to spoof it with bogus information. Let me know if you do it, too. But apparently enough of your information is out there to verify who you are, and it's easy enough to access (not necessarily meaning easy to get, but easy to buy the rights for) that they're using it for movie trailers.

Creeeeepy!

"They tell me life is beautiful.
Life is beautiful.
They tell me life is beautiful.
Life is a beautiful thing..."

---

"I gave you all of my experience,
I can't predict the end result of my love.
If you're assuming there's a silky sweet ending,
I'm not exactly what it says on the tin.

I caught you looking for a list of my ingredients,
Saw you waiting for your change.
And now you're searching on my sell-by,
Checking if I'm the top of the range..."

---

"Overtaken, I left you far behind.
So mistaken, you were totally blind.
Farewell beautiful, there is something you should know:
You're face to face with the man who let me go..."

---

"You can jump up and follow me,
Like a piper of love for humanity.
And I'll show you the things that you've never seen,
We are all in and out of this world.

You can hold back, stay where you are,
Let the world go by, view from afar.
And you'll miss all the places you've never been,
We are all in and out of this world.

And we sing!"

---

"I remember the future
(I remember the future)
Keep reminding myself to keep love
'Cause love can slip away.

And it waits for no man,
And it waits for no woman,
And it craves no war, turn back the clock,
Just like we were before.

I remember the future..."

---

"Making small talk till there's nothing left to say,
Make believing that it's just another day.
My heart keeps telling me that come what may,
There's something going wrong.

People smiling in their usual vacant way,
As if implying that everything's okay.
I'll be a fool you can lead my heart astray,
There's something going wrong..."

---

"Everything... begins... and ends... at exactly the right... time..."

---

"My delicious confusion,
The solution, journey with no end in sight.
Desecrated by angels and men,
Bodies linger in the morning light.

I live in fear,
Of the things I desire.
I should surrender,
To the terrible wonderful world that lies...before me..."

---

"If this second was your life, what would you do?
If this second was your life, I would love you.
If this second was your life, would you love it?

If this second was my life, I would love it.
If this second was my life, I would love you.
If this second was my life, I would happily die..."

---

"All the unsuspecting faces gaze up to the sky,
Roll out the red carpet, open your arms wide.
Line up with your welcome smiles,
Expectations guaranteed to fail.

Safe to say they didn't come in peace, what will you do now?
The truth is slowly dawning, no more where or when or how.
Once I would have killed for this,
Now it's here, we'll die for this.

Oh why, should I laugh or cry?"

---

"In my school the freaky one,
My hands were sore, my fingers numb.
From making rhythms on my desk,
My heart was banging in my chest.

So it came to pass my beats,
Were broken by the other kids.
They make stronger, make me deeper,
So my path is getting steeper.

I love my syncopated city.
This is my fascinating rhythm.
I need my syncopated city.
I love my mindless repetition."

---

(Big big ups to DJ Finny who first introduced me to London Elektricity. I then went out and purchased all four albums at once)

In 2008, NFL Films and Intersport released a fantastic documentary called "Truth in 24".

It's 2008 and Audi has won the 24 Heurs du Mans for four years in a row. They're coming back with the aging R10 TDI prototype, hoping to make it five. But there's trouble in the works: Peugeot has their own diesel prototype racer and it has been faster than the R10 at every race they've run leading up to LeMans. The calculations are coming up that it is going to be three seconds faster per lap for that race. Never mind that eight of their nine drivers are former Formula One drivers.

Can Audi possibly pull off a fifth consecutive win in the face of such overwhelming odds?

You know what the most wonderful thing about this documentary is? That I can wholeheartedly recommend it to absolutely anyone, from the die-hard petrolheads to people who wouldn't watch a race if you strapped them down to the couch. Because this is not a racing documentary. This is a documentary about racing, about a racing team, about the machines and what intense hard work and training has to be done to prepare for a 24-hour race. This is a documentary about people with a single-minded focus, training to better themselves, to shorten pit stops by mere tenths of a second by drilling over and over and over, weeks before the race will actually happen.

Yes, the last third of the film concentrates on the 24 hour race, but there are interviews, there are stories. There is watching how the team engineer tries to stay awake through the whole ordeal. The absolute exhaustion on the faces of the garage crews. The view when going over 200MPH in the dead of night. And in the end, the stunning realization of how a single decision can make the difference between victory and defeat. And that even if it looks wrong when you're in the cockpit, you have to trust your engineer to make the right decisions.

Please, do yourself a favor and check out Truth in 24. It's a free download on iTunes, or you can get the DVD for only $8 from Audi (at least, once it's back in stock). Trust me, you'll never regret it. And that's the truth.

We've all been to those movies that are based on real life events right? They always say they're based on a true story... because odds are the true story isn't cool enough to make a thrilling movie experience.

Back when it came out in 2004, I went to see The Aviator, the bio-pic about Howard Hughes. I loved it, of course, but that's probably more because of my love of airplanes. It's a great movie and I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone. Even if you're not an airplane nut, Hughes was a fascinating man, in and out of an airplane.

In the middle of the movie, they had a sequence where Hughes did a test-flight of the XF-11 aircraft. And I remember sitting in the theatre, thinking, "Okay. This part they definitely punched up a bit. I mean, c'mon: twin-contra-rotating props on piston engines? Twin boom design like the P-38? That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think? And then he goes out on a test flight, it gives him trouble and he wrecks it in the backyard of a house in Beverly Hills? Pretty damn convenient. Isn't all this a bit much to swallow?"

I vowed to go home and look it up. Imagine my surprise to find it's true!

Hughes took the XF-11 out for a test flight. It was supposed to be only 20 minutes, but he amended his flight plan once he was in the air to go up and fly around Southern California. Then an oil leak caused the rear prop on the starboard side to go into a flat plane, causing an imbalance in thrust. He fought the thrust difference, not knowing exactly what was wrong (the props were still spinning, after all). He eventually tried to land it at the Los Angeles Country Club golf course, but fell short and hit two houses in Beverly Hills before wrecking it in the backyard of a third. The XF-11 exploded on impact.

Hughes fought his way out of the cockpit with broken ribs, a crushed collarbone and third-degree burns on his hands. He collapsed beside the flaming wreck, unable to move any more. It was Master Technical Sergeant William L. Durkin, visiting across the street, that ran over and dragged Hughes away from the wreckage.

And this entire affair is detailed brilliantly by Scorsese in the movie.

Sure, there's probably still some artistic license taken in the details of the scenes. We probably don't know exactly what Hughes said while flying. Or what the people in the houses were doing at the time of the crash (although the couple in the second house was in their bedroom as the XF-11's wing cut through the house). But the major parts of it that I was most skeptical about were all true-life events.

I guess some people's lives are dramatic enough that they don't need punching up. ^_^

Those of you who have been talking to me (and perhaps reading the sporadic comments I've posted) have found I'm not exactly... enthusiastic to go see Avatar. I've hemmed, I've hawed, I've beaten around the bush and given excuses... and I think maybe I told one person close to the real reason why I'm warily keeping my distance.

I kept quiet, because I was afraid I was nuts, and that everyone would think I was funny in the head. That I was the only one that felt this way.

I was wrong!

Let's face it: Those of you close to me know that some of the artwork here on FA is enough to bring me down in short order. Yeah, schmexy furries aren't supposed to depress you ordinarily, but I want what's on the screen so bad that not able to have it just destroys me inside.

Dropping me into an immersive 3D environment of such beauty as Pandora is a recipe for complete and total disaster. And I think on some level my mind knew this, which is why from the very first time I saw a preview of Avatar, I was on high alert. Don't get me wrong, it was fucking beautiful. But even the quick tastes of the first teasers caused such a longing in me like nothing I've felt before.

Being Furry doesn't help matters, I'm sure. 10-foot tall blue felinoids with tails? And glittering yellow eyes? Heaven.

Roger Ebert wrote:And Cameron and his artists succeed at the difficult challenge of making Neytiri a blue-skinned giantess with golden eyes and a long, supple tail, and yet--I'll be damned--sexy.
Yeah, if Roger Ebert finds Neytiri sexy, what hope do we have? Unless Roger has something he needs to tell us... ("Supple tail"?!?)

We're going to see what happens though. I inadvertently agreed to possibly go and see it in IMAX, and I might as well get it over with. After all, Ebert was probably right when he said you have to see it because if you don't, you won't have anything meaningful to contribute to conversations for the next six months.

Lord help me...

I've been going to the gym on a regular basis now and in the cardio room, they have exercise cycles that will not only read out how many watts you're generating, but some can be set to force you to produce a certain amount of wattage. Which is weird, because the slower you pedal, the harder it gets...

I think we have no idea how much energy a watt is! I can pedal a steady 100-110 watts, but it's work. And it only takes 150-160 watts to put me at my target heart rate (150 BPM). And believe you me, I am sweating it out at that point. 200 watts would be completely unsustainable for me. And I'm not the strongest bicyclist that ever lived, but I'm no slouch either. My legs have always been strong.

So when we go talking about 500/600/800-watt computer power supplies, or 400-watt video cards... I think we have no idea how much energy that really is. Find one of those exercise cycles (for those of you who have access to them) and see what it takes to pedal out 100, 150 or even 200 watts. The idea of hooking your TV to a pedal-generator to force you to exercise while watching might just fly out the window.

Now for the petrolheads in the audience, let's tie this all together: 1 horsepower is about 550 watts. I DARE you to go into the gym and cycle out 550 watts. I know I sure can't. But that is a single horsepower, and here we are driving around in cars that put out hundreds of them without a whimper. Mine does 240 horse. So 240x550 is 132,000 watts! And that's a 'modest' performance car. Do you even want to get into the 500+ horsepower sports cars?

By that calculation, the Bugatti Veyron's glorious quad-turbo W16 lays down 550,550 watts.

That is a LOT of Watts!

I'll take a quiet life
A handshake of carbon monoxide

No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
Silent, silent

And you know what? I don't think I fit here in the United States either. There has always been this frustration because what society seems to want me to do is not what I want to do at all. And that frustration has been growing pretty strong over the last few years, to the point it feels like I'm chafing in clothes that just don't fit. Maybe they used to fit, I don't know. But now, they certainly don't.

All it takes is a little time in front of the TV to see the advertising presented for the general public. You need a new car. You need new clothes. You need a new phone. Oh, but you need a Verizon Droid phone instead of an iPhone, don't forget that. You need a diamond engagement ring for your fiancee-to-be. You need a Mac so you can be a smirking jackass that looks down on the rest of the computing world. You need a PS3 because it only does everything. But you need an XBox 360 Elite CoD:MW2 Special Edition because it has HDMI and does 1080p. And don't forget all the games you need, at $60 a pop. And you definitely need to get maintenance insurance for your car, because Lord knows you might need to replace your entire engine and that costs $4000 or more.

I think as a society, we're far too concerned with the shineys. You know what it is? We've got such a cushy first-world life that all we can concern ourselves with anymore is the shineys. We have no worries larger than getting the latest app for our iPhone that makes it look like we're drinking a beer. We don't have to worry about growing our own food. We don't have to worry about finding shelter, or keeping predators away. We have vehicles that always start and are capable of taking us hundreds of miles in just a few hours with no more effort on our part than operating the controls.

And it kills me! The job I used to have was so amazingly unfulfilling at the end. I'd go in and sit in front of a screen for 8 hours and come home beat. Why? What did I do all day that would make me tired? If I'm going to come home tired, I'd much rather it be because I was hauling boxes in a warehouse, or farming up vegetables or digging trenches. Come home tired but have something to show for it, and feel like I'd actually accomplished something, that I'd sweated and done an honest day's work.

Funny thing though... blue-collar jobs here are almost always looked down upon. Like if you have to actually go do manual labor instead of sitting behind a desk shuffling papers, you're a sub-class citizen. Why is that? Who do you think makes sure the food gets to the stores so you can buy it? Who do you think makes sure the power lines stay up, the water keeps flowing and who hauls away your trash every week? What if all the blue-collar jobs just disappeared? How quickly would this society collapse on itself?

Moving away from Los Angeles probably helped some (although I'm not sure I fit in the PNW either), but I'm beginning to worry that the only real cure will be moving to some second-world or third-world country where I have to physically work for a living. And I think if had to do that, I'd be truly happy there. Because there's got to be more to life than new cars. And new clothes... and new phones... and new shoes... and new computers...

You look so tired and unhappy
Bring down the government
They don't, they don't speak for us

Neither am I feeling like I fit in with the IT/computer-geek crowd. The crowd drools anxiously, awaiting the next awesome step in technological upgrades. For me, I'm always dragged into upgrading kicking and screaming. The system before my current one lasted me over five years. I know that for a fact, because I had a 9800XT in it and had the coupon for the free copy of HL2. And when did HL2 come out?

It was with great reluctance that I stepped up to my current system (well, except maybe the case. I was excited to get the new case) and once I did, I didn't jump on my social outlets and crow about it. Because even as an upgrade, it's not cutting-edge. And if you're going to crow in this group, you better make damn sure nobody else can beat you. Because if there's one thing I've learned about geek society, it's that the intellectual beat down is even more effective than a physical one.

We're a group of physical weaklings for the most part, so we've replaced the physical punching and sparring with the mental equivalent. You better have your facts straight, or you will get destroyed and ripped apart. It's a game of one-upmanship for the title of alpha-geek, so if you don't have the fastest, the biggest or the newest, don't even bother trying.

It's this whole need for superiority that rules the internet forums. All the snarky, smart-ass responses that can be given to a poor newbie that has the great misfortune of asking a question that has been asked many times before or is in a FAQ. You know what? We all screw up and ask questions that have been answered before. How hard would it be give them the answer, and then maybe gently remind them they could have found it in the FAQ. C'mon, no matter how experienced we are now, we were all newbies at one point.

But instead it's like throwing meat into a pack of wolves. People trample one another trying to post some humiliating response to the poor person who asked the question. You have to stop and ask: on boards that act like this, how do they ever gain new members? Who would ever want to stay after being treated like that? Then again, perhaps that's the whole point. Perhaps it's some kind of way to keep out the people they don't want there.

So this time I don't fit in because I refuse to play the game. I'm kind and informative to people and try not to engage in the contests of superiority. But then, if I refuse to play the game, am I allowed to complain about feeling left out of it?

A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won't heal

I'm starting to feel like I'm out of synch with Furry Fandom. Just this low-level rumble as I drift aimlessly through Fur Affinity. Is it really all about naked dragons and big cocks? The race to collect all of a certain artist's works? Or to drool fanboyishly over everything someone does? If I stand here and say I really don't know if I want to go see Avatar (I have my reasons) will I be disowned by the community?

The times that I happen to stumble over (or more often am pointed to) art of some smoking-hot female form, there are usually dozens upon dozens of comments about how sexy they are, or offers to bed them or how luscious they might be. And while I don't exactly disagree, I'm not sure I understand this fanatical need to comment and let the world know how eagerly you'd have sex with the object of the submission. Oddly enough, the object in question doesn't always have to be something living.

I have no interest in joining Second Life. I understand that you can live out your fantasy of being a Furry right there in a well-done virtual world. I still have no interest in existing there. My standard response is that I can hardly even handle my first life, do I really need a second one?

How many Furries out there spend all their time on SL, learning how to interact online while letting their real-world social skills slowly atrophy? How long before we have a whole generation that has no idea how to relate to each other except electronically? And that's not just limited to Furries or Second Life. I'm talking about people on Twitter, MySpace, Facebook, LiveJournal... even instant messenger services and cell phone texting to a certain degree.

I can go out and pal around with people in the real world. I mean, really sit down at talk. I don't always have to be the center of attention and I can engage in a good give-and-take conversation. I am constantly frustrated by people who refuse to ask questions to keep a conversation going. Here's a hint: When you ask what I did over the weekend and I give you a list of things, the proper answer is not "Cool" unless you're trying to end the conversation.

I've held down plenty of good jobs for reasonable periods of time. I even had a job that required me to show up each day in dress clothes and interact with perfect strangers (both in person and over the phone). Imagine that, a Furry in a suit and tie that can talk to clients without driving them off. Would you ever have thought such a thing possible?

Ah, I think I have discovered the problem. I'm a socially well-adjusted Furry. No wonder I feel so alone and out of place.

I've been having a love/hate relationship with Fur Affinity lately.

I read journals that are nothing more than a URL, and they gather 30+ comments in a couple of hours. People crow about their latest computer upgrades and get several comments on how cool it is or wishes of ownership or jealousy. I know people who could sneeze in their journal and would get 20 comments saying "Gesundheit!" in 30 minutes.

But when I write what I think are thoughtful, informative journals... I'm lucky to get a comment at all. Not that I haven't gotten comments on my journals ever, but... nothing takes off like the above-mentioned journals.

Would it have been different if I had just posted the link to "The Manual" and let people go see it themselves, instead of doing a little write-up about it? Personally, I hate being given just a link with no explanation and tend not to click on them... but that's me. And I am not trying to impress myself here.

I wrote a terribly romantic story and posted it here, and got two comments from two people who had already read it ahead of time and liked it. I was so sure I was going to set the world on fire with that story, but it turned out to be a pack of wet matches.

I tried to appeal to the movie geeks with my spoof of Batty's speech from Blade Runner. I got a comment from someone about how they'd like to see the Redwoods someday. Hey, I'll personally take you there and drive through them with you (and you know how I drive), but what'd you think of what I actually wrote?

For Christ's sake, I spent two months with an avatar that was a QR matrix containing a URL. And nobody, not even one techno-geek said anything about it! And I won't accept anybody saying they didn't know what it was. I recognized it as a matrix when I saw it, and it was just stuck on a page with no explanation. A little Wiki research and I had it decoded in under 10 minutes.

So Know Your Audience. Because it's pretty obvious I don't know mine.

The Manual (or How to Have a Number One the Easy Way) is a book published by Bill Drummond and Jimmy Cauty. Drummond and Cauty were The KLF, also known as The Justifed Ancients of Mu Mu (furthermore known as The JAMs) and The Manual outlines their process of making their number one hit 'Doctorin' the Tardis' back when they were The Timelords.

Fantastic read. It is at once cynical, tongue-in-cheek and absolutely brilliant. They shoot from the hip, telling it like it is and how it will mostly likely be for you (it is a manual, after all) and what you need to do to game the system to your advantage, or what choices you should consider when they arise.

Talking about such things as there being no magic chord or beat. That it's all been done before using the standard 12-bar blues progression as an example... and look at how many blues songs that's carried! So relax and stop trying to be original, because you'll just strangle your creativity that way.

They also talk about the process and just how on the edge it can be, promising people you'll get them the money and then trying to get the money before the 28-day delayed invoice comes back to your desk. Finally realizing they can ask the record sales company for an advance because all indications are this one is going to be big.

The PDF link above weighs in at 84 pages, which is probably a little long for the short-attention-span group. But I don't think you'll be disappointed at the end. It's as good a ride as any other story. Except it's true. And it has some really amazing gems to think about next time you wonder about the music industry.

Living in the San Fernando Valley ('The Valley', as in Valley Girls and all that) is nothing if not colorful. It's the porn production capital of the nation (I know people in the business, as it were). It gets friggin' hot (104F/40C a few days ago). And yesterday I was reminded of one of its wonderful idiosyncrasies that I have grown to like,

Edwards Air Force Base is located about 50 miles north of The Valley and is now the alternate landing strip for the Space Shuttle when it can't land at the Kennedy Space Center. They used to land at Edwards regularly, but the cross-country trip back to Florida was too costly in both money and time.

When the Shuttle flies (glides?) into the area in preparation for landing, it's still doing well over the speed of sound and it creates two sonic booms that rattle the entire Valley area. Literally! Yesterday my roommate and I were in the living room minding our own business when the whole wall of the townhouse shook like someone was trying to kick in our door. I remember many years ago too, an early morning in a friend's house and it was just a big jolt, as if someone had lifted the house up six inches and then dropped it.

The funny thing is, it's strictly air compression. So yesterday the walls of the building were shaking, but the ground was not. Out here we're all pretty familiar with earthquakes (I don't even get under my desk for anything under a 4 anymore) and somehow, subconsciously I knew this wasn't an earthquake, because the ground wasn't rocking.

I don't think I've ever been outside when the Shuttle comes in and I'd be curious to see what that experience is like. Or if you'd even notice it. I can't imagine you wouldn't... if it's enough to rattle windows and shake walls.

Indoors or out, I think I'm going to miss this unique experience.

This is why I wear safety gear while riding a motorcycle.

That is what happens when a 1.5 lb suspension spring breaks loose from one F1 race car and hits the driver of the car behind him while he's at qualifying speeds. It doesn't take a motorsport guru to see that without that helmet, Felipe Massa probably wouldn't be with us anymore.

There is a 30-second YouTube video detailing the impact and the aftermath. It's pretty obvious (to me) that the spring knocked Massa the #*&$ out. Just look at how his head is bouncing around as the car goes straight into the tire wall at 120MPH.

Massa came away with scull fractures and broken bones. Scary, scary stuff! Thankfully, he is recovering well and hopes to be back at least by the Brazil GP for the end of the season.

I admit when I talk about motorcycle helmets, I think about protecting your noggin in a crash. But as my Dad pointed out to me recently, they also protect you from airborne objects. He told me he's for the helmet law because he doesn't want to get hit by a motorcyclist that crossed over the line because a bug flew into his eye. And I admitted I'd never thought about it from that perspective.

So wear your helmet! If not to protect your head, wear it to keep from getting hit in the forehead by kicked-up rocks or knocked in the chin by tire debris. It's a dangerous world out there!

This is kind of an update journal, mostly because I had a most unexpected occurrence last week.

Right now I'm on a vacation of sorts, up in Oregon visiting my sweetie for a few weeks. The trip up turned into a busy run, first with a plan to stop over and see my friend in Sacramento to break the trip into two parts. Then that was amended to leaving a day early so I could spend Saturday at Laguna Seca with 20 other R32 owners and other VW-heads. And then at the absolute last minute, an invite to Pixar's 9th annual Motorama car show and BBQ. So much for a nice, relaxed trip up to Oregon!

Not long after arriving, my sweetie and I went to Family Camp. It was awesome. Out in the middle of private forest, with a creek (although a city boy like me considers it a river), cabins, meeting halls, campfire circle, swimming hole... it was a really nice place. We elected to bring a tent and sleep in that, so we got the outdoor camping experience. That's something I haven't done in a long time.

There were various activities and workshops throughout the week. I did field biology where we looked for rough-skinned newts and crawdads down at the river, a hike through some new property that the camp acquired, singing, leather working... all kinds of good things. Plus there was quiet time and free time to do your own thing (I mostly napped).

Two of the workshops resulted in things I'm going to post up here: some henna tattooing and (quite unexpectedly) a creative writing workshop. I wasn't sure what to expect in the workshop, but I ended up turning out some stuff I really like, and that I'm going to share. I shared it with the people in the workshop, so why not with my friends here?

I also got some more journal ideas... so keep your eyes open for those too.

Cheers!