Happy Father's Day

I leave you with this thought on Fatherhood, from Louis CK:
http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=6600481n

Tomorrow: The God Experience

Cheerleaders Rock!

Why do cheerleaders rock?

Do you realize that Cheerleaders have more sports related injuries than all other school sports put together? Cheerleaders are most definitely athletes. But, is Cheerleading a sport? By law, NO.

Why? Because some feminists from the 70s thought it was good for women.

Should it be? By every Moral and Ethical standard as well as the Hippocratic Oath, apparently so!

First I would like to thank Penn and Teller's BullSh*t! show on Showtime for bringing this up. I thought I'd watch it to see what nonsense they threw out there, just a few minutes of some fun. What I saw horrified me. Not the beautiful, fit girls being athletic, but the horrors these children experience on a regular basis with out the support and safety standards required by sports.

Okay, they did what the needed to, for the 70s! But it needs to be updated because what these girls are doing now a days is so far beyond "dance" that they are dying, being paralyzed, permanently injured and traumatized on a regular basis.

The 1972 Title 9, the Minx" Bernice. A good idea, that needs to be updated. Do Title IX proponents think more about their image than cheerleaders safety?

What do The National Cheer Safety Foundation and Varsity Brands Incorporated have in common? Varisty Brands sells more cheerleading equipment than anyone else. They fund the NCSF [7/27/2010 - author retraction, the NCSF is not indicated as being funded by Varsity in this episode of Bullsh*t! Thanks to Tiffany for that clarification.].

I don't know, but something, seems just wrong here and our daughters and suffering for it.

Peppered Vodka, Bond style

Ian Fleming, author of the notorious James Bond books, wrote in one of them, that Bond liked to put pepper in his vodka. He said it was because during the (second world) war, Russian vodka had tiny amounts of contaminants in it, so he put pepper in it to absorb those and he just got in the habit.

So that years later, he still liked to sprinkle pepper into his vodka, only now he would drink it too as the contaminants were no longer an issue. I tried it years later after reading that and I loved it, too. When I eventually tried Stoli's peppered Vodka (Stolichnaya Pertsovka) it was a marriage made in a Bond book, in Ian Flemming's mind, or in WWII.

I always wondered what Bond was trying to absorb in using the pepper and in looking around I find two possibilities. One, vodka could also be used as a fuel for vehicles, in which soldiers, or opportunists, could have taken from one depot to use in another. That is, they could drink it even when it might have some other substances in it being around vehicles that were using it for fuel when petrol ran sparse.

Someone once said, to create a "dry" martini (with little vermouth), you should spritz the vermouth in the air and wave the martini through it. Someone else said, simply show the martini the vermouth from across the room.

Wikipedia says of it, that "Ethanol, also called ethyl alcohol, pure alcohol, grain alcohol, or drinking alcohol, is a volatile, flammable, colorless liquid. It is a powerful psychoactive drug, best known as the type of alcohol found in alcoholic beverages and in modern thermometers. Ethanol is one of the oldest recreational drugs. In common usage, it is often referred to simply as alcohol or spirits. Mixtures of ethanol and water that contain more than about 50% ethanol are flammable and easily ignited."

It goes on: "Alcoholic proof is a widely used measure of how much ethanol (i.e., alcohol) such a mixture contains. In the 18th century, proof was determined by adding a liquor (such as rum) to gunpowder. If the gunpowder still burned, that was considered to be “100 degrees proof” that it was “good” liquor — hence it was called “100 degrees proof”." - Wikipedia

Another possibility is that pepper can absorb water, which is the part and parcel of what Proof is about. Whereas, 80 proof has more water and 100 proof the least amount of water. Using pepper, could make a "dryer" vodka. Its almost a kind of joke. But if that water were impure, that could also be a reason.

So I still don't know why Bond put pepper, originally, into his vodka. But it makes for an interesting bit of speculation. Either way, I do like my peppered vodka. Now, if I could only find a bottle of Stolichnaya Pertsovka (its not on Stoli's web site any longer).

What is erotic? What is sensual?

We all have preconceived ideas on what we find erotically or sexually arousing. Some of those things are so deeply seated there is little one can do about it other than, perhaps, alter it a little. In some cases however, those deeply seated desires and erotic considerations can be enhanced, added to, or completely changed in a single moment of heat and desire.

My hot, little girlfriend (okay, at 5'9" maybe not little) through my college years was full German. First allow me to say that she was blond haired and blue eyed; a very bright, tall, leggy, woman with a runner's physique. Did I say quite attractive? Her mouth was forever in a somewhat downturned pouty frown that made you want to cuddle and please her whenever you looked at her.

Admittedly, her appearance and our relationship may have affected me in the end.

Still this is a good example of how things you thought were rock solid, could be so altered without a moment's notice.

In our intimate discussions around that time, I had always indicated a partiality to certain French erotic motifs, as banal or common though they might have been.

For instance, I found intriguing, such slightly fetishistic thoughts as the ubiquitous male fantasy of a woman in a French maids outfit; or having sex with a girl while she is Frenchly whispering soft "sweet nothings" in my ear. Or, well anything softly whispered in French for that matter. Actually, she could have been excoriating on the French penal code for that matter and it still wouldn't have had any negative affect on me. Let's face it, a hot looking woman, speaking French, coming on to a guy...obvious attraction.

The poor sweet girl had listened to my own foolish understandings of my own lame preferences until she had finally gotten fed up with those rather pedantic attitudes of mine. So she was after all a proud German girl and decided to made it a "thing" to prove to me that her German culture wasn't so bad compared to the French. In hindsight, perhaps rubbing that particular nationalistic wound wasn't the best idea around.

So one evening she took me to a very good German restaurant. I didn't know there was such a thing. She ordered for me what she considered to be "good" German dishes. And I had to admit, it was indeed pretty tasty, even though I'm more partial to Japanese, Thai, and Viet-French cuisines.

That night she had also decided to prove that the German language could indeed be a "romance" language. I had discussed with her earlier, how German was described as a "guttural" language and not one of the "romance languages". A traditional academic stance.

At that time we were taking Linguistics at the University. Our very energetic and sweet, old Linguistics Professor was from an Eastern European, Slavic country, and spoke Germanic languages himself. He received a best teacher of the year award the year we graduated.

She told me that she had wanted to object in class when the Professor had described German as a "guttural" language. The term "guttural" merely refers to the fact that the language is spoken mostly from the back of the throat; whereas most romance languages are pronounced more toward the front of the mouth. Therefore making them appear softer, more gentle, and thus more, Romantic. The short trip to erotic is not a big leap to take, and the history of the French culture for romance and eroticism certainly adds to that understanding.

My girlfriend had decided to keep her feelings to herself that day in class. Until that night, that is. That evening, she proceeded to come on to me to prove her point. We were seated on the couch next to each other, she had her feet tucked beneath her with her knees toward me, one hand playing with the hair on the back of my head and she was staring intently at me from inches away.

In this kneeling, seated position, she was slightly looking down upon me and began to move in more closely. It was a very sexy and provocative approach for her to take. She leaned in and began to aspirate typical sweet nothings with her breath hot and heavy in my ear, but all in German. I found my blood pressure rising, my skin flushing and a desire to move to action overtaking me.

Still she held me in place with one hand on my chest as she continued her verbal and slightly physical foreplay. Until finally, I could take it no longer. Needless to say, this proceeded to a very pleasurable experience for both of us, lasting most of the night; wherein I could no longer fathom any difference of having been spoken to in either German OR French. To make a long pleasant story shorter, in the end I fully recanted my former position without any further consideration to demur, left in my mind.

So, should you ever have similar thoughts about how you feel regarding what turns you on, what is a prominent erotic ideal in your own mind, consider this: what you might think is a solid eroticism for you, what you may even consider to be your sensual fantasy, may not be as founded in concrete as you might think.

If you simply keep an open mind, and should you be lucky enough to have the right person to lead you down a more open and enlightened path than the one you've chosen, you may just find that there is a much wider spectrum of desire available to you than you had ever before considered possible.

Nuclear Proliferation

Queen Noor of Jordan, a Chairwoman on The King Hussein Foundation, was on Bill Maher the other day. She indicated that today there is a nuclear threat to the tune of 25,000 nuclear weapons that are in the hands of nine States and a few others. Its more those few others that chill my skin. For more information and a way to put things in perspective, Queen Noor, pointed out the documentary, "Countdown to Zero", a film depicting this post cold war foolishness. Its done by the same people that did "An Inconvenient Truth".

http://www.takepart.com/zero

From their site area, "Demand Zero":

"When the Iron Curtain fell, the bomb became a symbol of another era. But in recent years, the threat of nuclear proliferation has grown more urgent, and the political will to eliminate nuclear weapons is greater than ever. The Social Action Campaign for Countdown to Zero will provide the tools and actions for becoming part of the global movement to demand total nuclear disarmament."

At any one time, 2,200 nukes are on alert around the globe, ready for use in minutes. Speaking from the point of view of someone whose job it once was to support and deploy these things, this is a bad state of affairs. Always has been always will be. Should we destroy all nuclear weapons? No. Should we take them down from being available as a first response, or reply tactical response? Mostly likely.

We need nukes, for the simple reason that they are not weapons, unless we choose to use them as such. They are devices, tools. And so we need to differentiate between Good Nukes and Bad Nukes. Its all in purpose, or intent. One need only look to the stars for a single very good reason to have the ability to explode large nuclear devices. The earth is basically a moving target for the unlimited number of asteroids, meteors and debris flying through the universe at unbelievable speeds. Should we ever need to shoot at one, we might want something with which to do that with.

But, they should be kept in a tool box somewhere, not slung on someone's hip like a six-shooter. That, is insanity. That, always has been insanity.

Again from the site: "Collectively, the US and Russia have approximately 14,000 active nuclear weapons, only 200 of which could devastate either country."

Who scares you most in the world right now? Which government? Iran? North Korea? Burma?

"According to documents and photos smuggled out of Burma, the junta-led state has acquired key ingredients and tools to cook up a nuclear weapon." - Adam Trunell

Check out the National Abolition Day website:
http://www.nuclearabolition.org/

Its all something to be aware of. If you are into being "green" and fighting globalwarming, this is a far superior threat to be aware of.

"Nik Knows" - Episode 1

Nik is my son. He is twenty-two now. But when he was say, three, weeell, life was interesting. One never knew what you were walking into with him. But, it was felt, when he turned his attention to something, he got to know it, REALLY WELL.

I could give numerous examples. No. Trust me, very, very, very many.

So many that when he was three, his mother and I discussed the possibility of putting out a cartoon called, "Nik Knows" after our son and his experiences in life. This was because, when he did something, you just never saw it coming. He was brave to the point of insanity, and not so much because he was stupid, as because, it was so damn hard for him to get hurt; and finally, because he always did something that was so unexpected.

When I was still married to his mom, a short, at one time, sweet, at one time, kind of cute, "California-raised-in-Issaquah" kind of (at one time) blond (now a black die job, kind of older, no so young, well, not blond as I said).

He was Mr. ENERGY! Day. Night. Afternoon. Evening. Morning. Night.

When we put him to bed, usually at 7:30pm, hopefully, he would fall asleep by 11pm or so. No, really, let me say it again, 11pm, or SO. Not infrequently, 1am.

Years later, I met and married a sweet, gorgeous woman (no, not just to me, guys would stop and stare), mother to my daughter, babe deluxe, Horse expert and child Goddess (I should say, Child Whisperer) who introduced me to something called, "swaddling". Swaddling. Ever heard of it? Its when you wrap a baby tightly in a blanket. First time I saw her do it I was horrified. But then, the baby zonked out, immediately. IMMEDIATELY. I can only akin it to a chicklet, when you lay it on its side, and push down on it; it will stay there, frozen, unharmed, for up to half an hour. Really, I learned about it in Psychology at the University, tried it out myself years later, and it really works. And apparently it works with children.

Amazing.

But, I didn't know about that with my son. Sadly.

I guess swaddling can be overdone, because I've heard of incidences in the media where parents went beyond swaddling until the child, like, died. So, that's no good. But after a few weeks of no sleep, one can almost understand the overzealousness when once swaddling might be discovered. Take my son, case in point.

I was in the living room one afternoon, studying computers, as I was trying to get a higher paying job (yes, it worked out, but not until a divorce). I heard something, turned around the low and behold, was my son's mother, standing in the doorway, after six weeks of having to feed him every two hours, looking quite insane. She had been cutting food in the kitchen, so she was standing there, holding a large knife, her eyes were, insane, she said, "Do something with him. Do something with him. I can't take anymore. Do something...."

I weighed my options, having been in the middle of some deep computer architecture book, and decided, if I ever wanted to finish said computer book, I had better make an affirmative response to what she was asking. He was a trial to raise.

Years ago, I can remember my own mother saying to me, during periods of extreme frustration, and yes, because of me, she had said that she so very hoped, one day, that I, "will have a child JUST LIKE YOU!" I was only a kid when she said that. I was lucky, for my older brother, she had a cartoon on the wall of the kitchen which read:

"Sometimes I wish abortion were legal before you were born." Said by a mother to a teen son.

"And may you live in interesting times." A Chinese curse. I was a Chinese curse. It had been passed on to me. I was passed on to me.

Hmmm..."just like me". I had to think about that one.

Hey, I was pretty cool, really. I mean, NO one was as cool as me. If I could find someone like me, why, I'd have the best time possible. It would be, well, wonderful. How fun am I anyway. VERY fun. I LOVE to do fun things. Of course, my mother disagreed, but then, she never did those cool things, she only organized things after I was done, frequently putting them back in the radio, TV, or microwave.

Anyway...my son turned out, just like me. He looked like me, was beefy like I was. No, not...hefty, or husky, but solid muscle, and a lot of it. One day, I put him on my knee, he was an infant. I held his hands over his head so he could stand on my knee, just for balance. But he DID it, standing on his own, his balance was incredible. I had never seen a baby that strong before. A real bruiser. Just like I was.

In the birthing room, the day he was born, the nurses called him, Bruno, because his 8'13" seemed so big up against his mother's diminutive 5'1". When she was pregnant with him, she looked like a beach ball with legs, really. One day, she wore a horizontally large striped sweater to a Japanese garden on a family outing with her parents and grandmother. She really looked like a bumble bee, very oversized, but comical nonetheless. Its true. I have pictures.

I'm going somewhere with this, just wait, because, I want to know where this goes too.

When I was a kid, in third grade, my mother came outside of our house because while she had been inside, she saw something drop from the sky, passing the window she was near, and looking remarkably like her son.

So about the time she got outside, she looked around seeing nothing. Then she looked up, and saw me just about to jump off the roof of the house, again. I got yelled at. I eventually got down. I didn't do that anymore. But I didn't understand, because, as I told her when she said, "WHY are you DOING that?" I said, "Because its so much fun falling."

"Doesn't it hurt when you hit the ground?" She said.

"No, not really." She just shook her head, said I'd break a leg, and told me to get down. What a downer. My type of kid was definitely better.

So, one day, thirty some years later, my own son, playing alone by himself, at about four years old, in our living room, in an apartment above a wine store. You can't make this stuff up, I searched and searched for a dumbwaiter while we lived there, but never found one; soon evaporated were thoughts of late night rummaging in the store for fine wines....

Anyway, I was in the dinning room with his mom, when we heard a large, boom and the floor shook.

We turned around, low and behold, we saw him in the living room, climbing back up on the couch. Wondering, we watched him, he didn't even look at us. He was focused on the center of the rug in the room. He raised his hands apart, leaped up, and flew out into the middle of the rug and descended, boom, hitting square dead center on the middle of the rug.

In a repeat performance, his mother and I watched him climb back on the couch. Incredulous, we saw him raise up off the couch yet again, suspend in the air for a moment, just long enough for us to both us to yell, "NOooooo!"

He didn't flinch, look, nothing, he was into the bliss of the fall. I knew that look. I felt that feeling. The same thing I'd experienced in jumping from the roof of our house, so many years before.

He landed square on his chest, it stunned him briefly, then he jumped up, and saw us looking at him, realized we had responded upset, as we yelled at him, saw that we had reacted with fear to his actions, and basically, that he had freaked out not only Mom, but unflappable Dad, too. He giggled.

We looked at one another stunned. How stupid WAS our son? We were especially stunned when we watched him climb back up onto the couch, in order to DO IT AGAIN. This time, we yelled his name, loudly! Same thing, he got up, did it again, only this time, we plotted. I think the falls on the hard floor were getting to him as when he hit next time, it wasn't quite as hard as before.

We looked at each other, and I said, "whatever you do, don't respond to him this time." She nodded that she was thinking the same exact thing. He flew up again, but when he hit the ground on his chest this time, and looked up at us immediately, he had no audience, we were looking the other way. I could see out of the corner of my eye, that he reacted to our NOT reacting, with great disappointment. He got up. I could see him considering his next move. We took a step off looking at something else.

And it hit him. His fifteen seconds of glory were over. He looked down at the floor. Then found a new toy to abuse, I mean, play with.

It was in this way, that "Nik knew", Stage Performance, audience approval, and the agony of your materiel going stale. But, he never tired of his thrill of, The Shock. A story that continued on, for another decade or so.

I'm only happy, that now...its his turn.

Only, I never cursed HIM. Besides, he's now has a girl. I've raised a boy and a girl now.

I wish him much luck.

What's it like, turning out a blog a day?

I've done what many have done, read an article and then complained about it. That's so stupid. He's such an idiot. How'd he come up with THAT? What kind of a jackass is she, anyway? What Was she thinking?

I can say now from experience, its hard to turn out a quality piece on a daily basis. And so, I'm adjusting to weekends off. I have a job. I have a second job. I have studies and book readings and research to do. I have kids. Okay, one has moved out now.

But its a full time job and then some. Therefore, you have limited time to get everything done in your life, and turn out an article on a daily basis. If it were my only job, I suspect, it would be easier, but then, that would be suspect. Either way, I certainly now have a greater appreciation of the fortitude it takes and the effort required, to pull it all together and turn out a quality piece of work on a daily basis.

On the other hand, it is a drive. A lark. A serious qualm and a pandemonium.
Though I do like it and it can be fulfilling. Although I do have a screenplay to get done.

So, I'm taking weekends off from now on. That okay with you?