Who Watches The Watchmen

Miracles by they're definition are meaningless, only what can happen does happen.

Just got done watching Watchmen again...damn it's good, bloody brilliant...depressing and poignant.

The Christmas Fridge

Merry Christmas

Iron Oxide

Wakey! Wakey!

Quite Cool

Quite cool...surprisingly accurate. View it larger here.

Addiction

came across this today, not sure why it resonates, but it does:

addiction...sad lonely pain shame anger can't look in the mirror can't face myself don't want to
give it up so hard longing wonder aggression embarrassment excuses justifications
unfounded weak empty heartless let me speak soulless shallow meager disgusted with myself
can't let it hold me broken don't break me strong willful demeaning hurtful break the
glass look away leave me alone quiet the voices overcome this survive the mind same
path wrong road going down to hell drag me away from this...addiction
--anon.

Poems

Recently commissioned to write a limerick for Christmas gift tags to accompany bottles of homemade Swedish glögg. Here is the result...

Only sissies will say they like mead,
And wine snobs do follow thy lead,
But glögg is a drink,
For real men who think,
They can drink with the best like a Swede!

...and a completely unrelated Haiku

It is dangerous,
to let the mind go astray,
and know not the path.

Worms In My Ears II

He hadn't noticed before. He examined them closely, the earphones at his work computer. There was a noticeable, and as evidenced by this post, a notable difference between the two. The left one, the one he exclusively used, was significantly more worn from use. The right seemed brand new. After a moment's contemplation, he optimistically hoped that the insides of his ears did not reflect this same sentiment...maybe he should switch things up for a change.

She Says

This is [not] the most important thing you will ever read:
Once upon a time...a woman had something to say, a statement. The words started flowing from her fingers, keystrokes of letters, words, phrases; and her mind, standing idly by, watched with a mixture of fascination and confusion. It was as if her soul had been welling up inside of her and was finally spilling over, taking shape, transfiguring before her eyes and she could do nothing, did not want to do anything but to let it go. It was scary and comforting, lost and found, ugly and beautiful, all facets of the same entity. And when she was done, in the final moment, it was brought to life with her last breath. She would be no more, but those words would live, and in that, her spirit would remain perpetually, eternally, forever.

Baseballs

Someone is obsessed with the new camera...

Self Portrait 2

Self Portrait

Irony

When the soap dispenser at the sink is the filthiest, most infectious looking thing in the room, what's a guy to do?

Haiku

A haiku...

Kayak

Just floating along,
I contemplate to myself,
Why don't I paddle?

Kaydee Ella

There is nothing more commanding of the entire spectrum of human emotion than to have a child. Except maybe for having two.

Happy Halloween

I and Love and You

Best song I've heard in awhile...

Love this song.

A Little Fall

The Siren

Every Monday the siren sounds at 12:00PM. At that exact time, I am usually on my way to the car for lunch. In that moment, there is nothing more impending, nothing quite as imminent as the fear that the sound of that siren makes. As I fumble for my keys, I get this distinct, crippling feeling that one of two things is about to happen: either a commencing nuclear strike or a shambling zombie outbreak. Regardless of the event, both make me walk just a little bit faster.

Homebrew News

Just an update on the latest homebrew: I opened the first of the Pale Ale that I made in September and did a blind taste test a couple of weeks ago with it and a commercial Pale Ale. I had three judges, myself included, and of the three on the panel, each preferred beer number one which I am excited to say was mine. I haven't tried it since. I've been waiting to have it as "new baby celebration" beer, and since it was only a half-batch, I wanted to save all I could. I'm hoping it continues to get better and hits it's peak in a week or two. That will be perfect timing.

Also, I have an oatmeal stout that I brewed about a month ago. I have since transferred it into the secondary and added some bourbon soaked oak chips. It tasted pretty good before the oak, so here's hoping I didn't ruin anything through experimentation. If it all turns out alright, I'll be opening the first of those at Christmas. That's all for the fall brewing season. We'll have to see how busy I get coming up this winter for any more. Cheers!

Fresh Air

Allow me to reiterate a former sentiment: there is little worse for enjoying a nice early autumn afternoon than to inhale the cigarette smoke from the car two places in front of you at the stoplight. Note: not only are you destroying your own lungs with a cocktail of toxic smoke and poisonous tar, but you're infringing on my right to breathe fresh air as well. Roll up your window and choke on it...jerk.

New Artist

Here's some new art from one of my new favorite artists.






Here is the artist at work on the ipod.

Marquette Rodeo

A few pictures from the rodeo.

Pop Quiz

It's the most beautiful Kansas July evening in recent memory, where am I?

a). Mowing my lawn
b). Enjoying a beer on the front porch
c). Kayaking down the river
d). Sitting in my office finishing a proposal

Be careful, I may not like your answer.

Monday

It was Monday. He looked right through her. It was a queer sensation. He blinked a few times in confusion. One minute she had been giving an acceptance speech, and the next she was gone. All he heard was muffled sounds, as if he were being submerged under water. He could clearly make out the cabinets and counter directly behind her. Was she disappearing? Then came the applause around him, quickly at first, then slowed down as if someone were restricting the film. It was muffled too, an echo in the hollow void into which he was sinking. The people around him could seemingly still see and hear. They were still a part of the world, of the world's time. He was not.

Soon the others were not moving, or rather, not to the human eye. It was silent. They had slowed to a point that he was able see the individual molecules that made up their being. He walked towards them and with a wave of his hand, as if warding off an annoying insect, was able to brush aside the molecules and phase through the matter. He held one in his hand and observed the complexity of this one tiny block of life, and marveled at it's wonder.

Then a deafening snap filled his ears and he felt as though someone had shoved him violently backwards to his original position. Clapping crescendoed up from an echo and a form began to transfigure in front of the cabinets. "Let's have cake," she said. It took him a real world moment to realize that he was back on earth's time, watching them eat cake.

He wondered what Tuesday would be like.

Firestone

I guess this means I'm moving to California...

The Wall

He didn't see me watching, and I hoped that he wouldn't. Maybe that would be all it would take, him thinking he was alone. For he was standing in front of a brick wall that he had no business being in front of, dressed in clothes he had no business wearing. I desperately wanted him to tap a few bricks, walk through the wall, and not come out the other side, but alas, today he did not. Shame, it would have been neat to have followed him.

Laughter

If laughter is the best medicine,as they say, then he would be the healthiest of them all. He laughs at everything...

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...good, and you ha ha ha."

"Do you have a minute?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...I guess, ha ha ha.

"What are you doing for lunch?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...I'm just staying in, ha ha ha.

...for no apparent reason, as if everything were a private joke that only he understood. At first it is fine, but after 6 months, and he can't say anything without laughing, and he sits behind you, and every time you hear him laugh you make mocking faces at your computer screen, and write things about him on your notepad, and he laughs at everyone else too, and then it gets to a point that you are manic, that you can see yourself laughing as you punch him in the face, and all he does is laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and...ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.


Maybe it's you who has the problem.

Bend Your Ear

If you only knew...you would know why this is noteworthy.

Wedding

My good friend Brad got married this past weekend. It was a really great time, and I got to see some people that I surely don't get to see enough. One friend's dad took a few pictures that I thought turned out really well.

Pictures

The Horse In Motion

To Whom it May Concern:

There you have it. All four of Occident's feet off the ground. Pay up sucka.

Sincerely,
Leland Stanford

Here Comes The Bride

Another Chance

This weekend, I made a third attempt to see the movie Blade Runner.  My wife has made it clear that she has no interest, and I don't blame her, so I've been trying to find a suitable time to watch it.  My first attempt was obviously way too late for this post-collegiate-turned-father as I fell asleep halfway through.  My second attempt was stifled, literally, as I was couldn't hear what was happening due to noise restriction (didn't want to wake the wife).  This past weekend however, I found success.  Amanda was gone, Garrett was asleep, and so I put in Blade Runner for the third time.  It was worth the wait.    It was science fiction at it's best, and I'm actually glad I have waited this long to see it.  I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have liked it in college, and have no doubt that I would have hated it in high school.  But now, there was something about it that was very captivating to me as an adult.  It really reached me emotionally, and blew my mind intellectually.  Love, love, love this movie.      If only you could see what I've seen with your eyes. --Roy, from Blade Runner

Torture

Forget waterboarding...
I walked into Gella's Diner in Hays, KS yesterday only to be instantly engulfed in a wonderfully familiar smell. It wasn't the food though, it was something different wafting in from the back. It didn't even take a second for me to identify it, freshly milled malted barley. Somewhere...they were making beer. I asked to be seated in the brewery section to investigate further. Upon being seated, my suspicions were confirmed. Two guys in the back were busily dumping barley and hops into a boil and creating that wonderful wort. The smell was unmistakable and intoxicating. I looked down the beer list that was so familiar to me, noticed the banners hanging on the wall: GABF Silver medal, Bronze medal, Silver medal, Gold medal, etc., and tried to hold back my enthusiasm. I scoured the menu and spotted the obnoxiously decadent Spicy Redneck, and my mouth began to water. This was going to be great.

However, the waitress came around and I was roused from my fantasy. "I'll have a water and the Brewben sandwich," were the words uttered chokingly out of my mouth. My boss sitting beside me said, "I'll have the same." Pure torture.

Damn the electric fence...

Fun at Work 2

Nothing like a nice lineup of switchgear to make work a little more artistic...just a little.

Not a Rant

I hate to do this, because I swore I was done with it, but if you'll allow me one small minute to point out an...observation. This is not a rant, but a mere suggestion to any restaurateurs out there. I took my wife out for dinner the other night for our anniversary to what I might consider to be one of the nicer restaurants in Wichita. Upon receiving our menus, I began perusing the drink selections. Two whole pages devoted to wine by the bottle and by the glass were sectioned off into red and white, and further partitioned into nice neat categories of Merlot, Cabernet, Pinot Grigio, etc. Then, in the bottom right hand corner, a space reserved for the apparent "step child" of imbibments, was the beer.

Surprised? No, I wasn't. I expected it. So I was able to move on at that point. What amused me was the two categories of beer listed, Imported and Domestic. Looking down the domestic list, I saw the typical macros, Bud, Coors, Miller. What was laughable were the beers listed as Imported. Fat Tire? Since when have we imported Fat Tire all the way from Colorado? How about Samuel Adams from Boston (a quick aside: that's how they had listed it, "Samuel Adams," as if they didn't have a million beers to choose from), is that "imported"? And Shiner Bock? I'm pretty sure Texas is part of the Union now. Where did they come up with this list?

Apparently I'm hard to please when it come to my beverage of choice. Don't get me wrong, I'm not discounting wine. I do love wine very much. However, once, just once, I would love to open a menu and have two full pages devoted to beer by the bottle and by the (proper) glass that were sectioned off into ales and lagers, and further partitioned into nice neat categories of Pale, Hefeweizen, Porter, etc. Then I would love to hear my waiter say, "India Pale Ale? That will go great with your chicken curry, excellent choice, sir." If anyone knows of such a place, please let me know. Until then, I'll just have to stick to drinking the "imported" stuff. Because everyone knows that if it's not fizzy and yellow, it must not come from here.

The Shoulder

His should was a subject of ridicule. Each day he would walk through the door at 12:57 PM, fresh off of his lunch break. He would walk down the hall to his desk, ignoring the stares. He knew. He smiled a knowing smile though. The other guys had even started a pool, what would it be today? Pizza? Maybe macaroni and cheese? One cried a triumphant, "Yes!" He must have won, for it was actually pizza. Pizza sauce stains had made there way onto his left shoulder. Some days it was clean, some days peanut butter, often it was strawberries, and many times it was chocolate. They thought him a slob though, thought they could tell what he had for lunch that day by what was wiped and left behind on his shoulder. They couldn't have been more wrong.

For every day at 12:50 PM, the man had two little arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and a little face pressed against his left shoulder. His son had eaten pizza that day, and the sauce was there to prove it. And occasional days before that he'd left something else before saying goodbye. The shirts he could wash, and the jeers could be tolerated. He knew that the hugs would stop one day, and he wasn't letting anyone take them away too soon.

College Imagery 4

Wiest Hall...still feels like home.

Beer Ranks

I mentioned that I drank a lot of great beer in San Diego. This is true, and I tried to only drink ones that I knew that I wouldn't be able to get back in Wichita. Below I ranked in order from best to not best (because there was no "worst" if you know what I mean) all the beers I had:

1. Karl Strauss IPA--This was a surprising 1-2 finish for the Karl Strauss brewery. I'll have to admit that I had never heard of their beer before, and was enthusiastically pleased that we went to eat there. Extra points go to them for serving each beer in the proper glass.

2. Karl Strauss Barley Wine--Great hoppy barley wine. Smooth and full tasting. Perfect after-meal beer for me.

3. Dogfish Head 90 min. IPA--Desperately wanted it to be better. My expectations might have been a tad high. It was a great beer though, better than the 60. Bring on the 120!

4. Stone Pale Ale--Head and shoulders better than the Stone IPA, very surprising.

5. Sierra Nevada Pale Ale--I know I can get this in Kansas, but at the bar it was the best option, and come on, it's Sierra Nevada...always a great choice.

6. Karl Strauss Hefeweizen--I only had a drink of this, but it was enough to know that it was a fine beer. Great color as well.

7. Lagunitas Old Gnarlywine--I hate that it has to be down this far, because it was really good. But it couldn't stand up to the others. I like my barleywines hoppier than this one as well.

8. Stone IPA--Reminded me a lot of Dogfish Head's 60 min IPA. It was too thin for my taste, lacked color and body. I was disappointed I couldn't get my hands on the Ruination. I'm curious how they differ.

There were just too many beers, not enough time.

Elbow Room

That's three blown elbows in the past few months.  Two was a coincidence, three has become a pattern.  Something has got to change or I'm going to run out of dress shirts.

Ice & Fire

Movies generally ruin books. At least for me and the books I love. The only way I ever thought it would work is if they could hook some wires up to my brain and project the images and sounds from my imagination up onto the screen. Then I would go see that movie. They are working on making a mini series out of my all time favorite series, A Song of Ice and Fire, on HBO. I have made my decision. I will not be watching, I will not be looking at production photos or casting shots. I will not be watching trailers, I will not even be listening with my eyes closed. The moment I do any of those things, it would mean killing the images I have in my head, and that, for me, would be a disaster. Poor Harry Potter has nearly done it in for me, Eragon, even though I didn't see the movie, has still been atrocious, and I can't read "Legolas" without seeing Orlando Bloom's golden locks. Please don't let them take the images of King's Landing, Tyrion, and The Wall as well.

The Pacific

A few poladroids at the ocean...

San Diego

I took a trip out to San Diego this past weekend to visit my friend Brandon for a few days. I had a really great time and got to do some things that were probably once in a lifetime kind of things. I got to drink lots of great beer, eat lots of good food, and hang out with my friends. That was the best part of all. Here are just a few pictures I took while there.