tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21513463721092086662024-03-13T11:48:22.747-05:00Muggsy's BrainThoughts, dreams, opinions & storiesMuggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.comBlogger113125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-39139291863593022462015-08-06T10:55:00.000-05:002015-08-06T10:55:57.441-05:00Against the Will of the CreatorI took part in an amazing event this past week on Madeline Island in Wisconsin: my dear friends, Amanda and Stacy, got married. I've known Stacy for over 20 years, and Amanda over 10 years, and both of them are truly amazing women. The ceremony itself was mostly private (a group of us watched from a distance) at the request of the Happy Couple™, but the amount of love and acceptance expressed at the reception was an amazing thing to see.<br />
<br />
It's kind of odd to find a destination wedding that also features a pot luck supper, but that's what they did, and no one was turned away, even if they weren't a wedding guest. By the end of the night, most of the food was gone, and I saw a lot of Native Americans from the local reservation walk by me with filled plates. Feeding the poor, that's a pretty cool thing to do.<br />
<br />
Strangers offered their best wishes to the Happy Couple™, and no one judged them because of their gender -- not one person. That is the way it should be.<br />
<br />
It took the Supreme Court to make it legal for Stacy and Amanda to get married in Wisconsin, a state which had a law on the books making it illegal for them to do so. Equal Rights means <i>Equal</i> Rights, and there is no good reason to keep two people who love each other from marrying, even if they're both of the same sex.<br />
<br />
Unless you're religious.<br />
<br />
Despite the love and support from dozens of friends and well wishers, despite the generosity of the Happy Couple™, despite the loving acceptance of everyone from the oldest to youngest person in the room, they're broken. That is the term used by a person I know: broken. Why? Because their love goes against God's Law®™.<br />
<br />
By following God's®™ that way, you are intentionally blinding yourself to the full spectrum of humanity, and you're willfully ignoring Jesus' second greatest law: Love others as you love yourself, AKA the Golden Rule of "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."<br />
<br />
Hate begets hate, and goes against Biblical teaching, as does judging others, ignoring the beam in your own eye, and casting the first stone. And it is so, so easy for these judgmental types to ignore all the other teachings of the Bible while waving their cherry picked portions in your face: eating shellfish and pork, cutting your hair, wearing mixed fabrics, having tattoos, and if you're a woman, speaking in public.<br />
<br />
Jesus apparently came along to correct some of God's mistakes, at least that's what I've heard from a lot of Christians. I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean. Obviously, killing, stealing, lying, and fucking someone else's spouse is still frowned upon, and I guess now it's okay to eat shellfish and pork, to wear mixed fabrics, and, if you're a woman, to speak in public. But the gay thing still means you're broken. For some reason. Honestly, I just don't get it. <br />
<br />
I had originally meant for this post to be a response to my friend's comment that gay people "went against the will of God," but I decided to let it go. She can believe that tripe if she wants to, but I know better. Gay people aren't broken, they're <i>people</i> just like anyone else.<br />
<br />
Jesus supposedly hung out with and helped prostitutes, lepers, and the poor, setting an example of acceptance that I witnessed personally on Madeline Island, and at the other gay wedding I attended in Minnesota last year. I would rather live that kind of life than one that labels people as broken because of who they are.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-2907691686320494952014-02-24T14:04:00.001-06:002014-02-24T14:04:49.208-06:00Bingo!
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<br />
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<ol>
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Where do you get your
morals?</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
To be honest with you, I was
raised Roman Catholic and most of my morals come from there. However,
one doesn't need to be religious, or to believe in some sort of
Divine Punishment to know that killing, stealing and fucking your
neighbor's wife are all shitty things to do. And there are plenty of
cultures that came up with societal rules with absolutely no exposure
to the Judeo-Christian God.</div>
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</div>
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<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You'll grow out of your
rebelious phase.</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
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I'm 50. I've been an atheist
longer than I was Catholic.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="3">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So you want to outlaw
all religion?</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
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Not at all. I'd prefer if
you kept your religion out of my politics, however.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="4">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You're what's wrong
with society.</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
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That is an offensive
statement without any merit.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="5">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
95% of the world
believes in God. Doesn't that say something?</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ah, the old <i>vox populi!</i>
That doesn't prove anything. 95% of the world could believe in
unicorns, but it wouldn't make them real.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="6">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It takes just as much
faith to be an atheist as it does to be a believer!</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Actually, you're wrong. It
doesn't take any faith at all.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
How arrogant.</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
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Another offensive statement.
Arrogance is believing that your religion is the One True Faith and
that anyone who doesn't believe as you do will be cast into a lake of
fire for all eternity.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="8">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You can't prove there's
no God!</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
First of all, no one can
prove a negative. Second of all, you can't prove there is.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="9">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Atheism is a religion,
too!</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No it isn't. There is no
“atheist church”. There are atheist organizations, but they do
not dictate a way of life to other atheists.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="10">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The evidence for God is
all around you!</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I see no evidence of there
being a God. Sunsets and rainbows are well understood events that are
thouroughly understood by science. And I'm confident that any
unanswered questions we may have now about the natural world will one
day be answered by science.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="11">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
God loves you anyway.</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
How nice. This is the same
guy who will burn me for all eternity because I don't believe in him,
right?</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="12">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
What's stopping you
from going on a crime spree right now?</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Are you saying that your
religion is all that's keeping you from going on one yourself right
now? That's truly frightening.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="13">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Pascal's Wager.</div>
</li>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'll give my favorite of the
hundreds of responses to that. Pascal's wager assumes there is one
Judeo-Christian God. What about Odin? Or Zeus? Or any number of Hindu
Gods? Of the hundreds of choices of Gods in this world, how can you
be sure you're worshipping the right one? It's like a big game of
roulette and you're betting on only one square.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="14">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Aren't you afraid of
Hell?</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm not afraid of imaginary places.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="15">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I feel sorry for you,
not having a reason to live.</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Another bit of arrogance
from your camp. You assume I have nothing to live for. For me,
knowing that any day could be my last means that I have to make <i>this</i>
life count. I'm not going to be rewarded in heaven, so I better do
good right now.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ol start="16">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are no atheists
in foxholes.</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tell that to the thousands
of atheists who have served this country on the front lines.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ol start="17">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But you HAVE to believe
in something!</div>
</li>
</ol>
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<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No, I don't. If I have faith
in anything it's my faith in human curiosity and our ability to find
answers.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ol start="18">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hitler/Stalin/Pol Pot
was an atheist, too, you know.</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Really? You're going there?
Andrei Sakharov, Charlie Parker and H.G. Wells were atheists, too. So
is Stephen Hawking. Wanna talk about the Cruscades now?</div>
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<br />
</div>
<ol start="19">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
What are you going to
tell your children?</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
IF I were going to have
children, which I'm not, I'd teach them to believe their eyes and to
never take the easy answer of “God did it.” Ultimately, when they
reached an age when they could decide for themselves what they wanted
to believe, I'd accept whatever it was.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ol start="20">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'll pray for you.</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thanks, but that won't be
necessary. You see, prayer doesn't actually do anything.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ol start="21">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You're doing the
Devil's work!</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Another creature I don't
believe in. Questioning and learning is not the Devil's work, and if
you think it is I pity you.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ol start="22">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you read [religious
text] you'd change your mind.</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You assume I haven't. I've
read the Bible (okay, I skipped a lot of “begats”), and it didn't
change my mind. If anything it reaffirmed my stance.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ol start="23">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You are so
closed-minded.</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because I refuse to believe
in an omnipresent, omniscient being? If you bring me proof of God,
I'll accept it. What would you do if I brought you proof that
there was no God? Also, unicorns.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ol start="24">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Stop being intollerant
of my beliefs!</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
That's ridiculous. Your
beliefs are none of my business. However, your beliefs should not be
the basis of law; your beliefs should not be forced upon me or
others. In the public square there should be no religion, not just
yours.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ol start="25">
<li><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
God doesn't believe in
atheists, either.</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
How pithy of you. And there
you go, claiming to know what's inside the mind of God.</div>
Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-37472666093306984272012-09-04T11:26:00.001-05:002012-09-04T11:27:04.612-05:00Religion and PoliticsI found this in the comments section of <a href="http://wthrockmorton.com/2012/08/31/christian-reconstructionist-takes-david-barton-to-task-for-faulty-history-in-the-jefferson-lies/" target="_blank">this blog</a>, which is devoted for the most part to debunking the claims made by pseudo-historian <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Barton_%28author%29" target="_blank">David Barton</a>, who claims that the Founding Fathers, and Thomas Jefferson in particular, were Christians whose aim it was to create a Christian nation.<br />
<br />
###### <br />
<br />
The Ten Commandments of our Founding Fathers<br />
<br />
1. Your neighbor’s religion is none of your concern.<br />
<br />
“But it does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods or no God. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.”<br />
<br />
Thomas Jefferson, Notes on Virginia, 1782<br />
<br />
“Religion is a subject on which I have ever been most scrupulously reserved. I have considered it as a matter between every man and his Maker in which no other, and far less the public, had a right to intermeddle.”<br />
<br />
Thomas Jefferson to Richard Rush, 1813<br />
<br />
2. You shall not mingle religion with politics.<br />
<br />
And here, without anger or resentment I bid you farewell. Sincerely wishing, that as men and Christians, ye may always fully and uninterruptedly enjoy every civil and religious right; and be, in your turn, the means of securing it to others; but that the example which ye have unwisely set, of mingling religion with politics, may be disavowed and reprobated by every inhabitant of America.<br />
<br />
Thomas Paine, Common Sense. PDF download from “The Lou Frey Institute of Politics and Government.” Pg. 51, Appendix.<br />
<br />
3. You shall not establish any religion above any other.<br />
<br />
‘We the subscribers, citizens of the said Commonwealth, having taken into serious consideration, a Bill printed by order of the last Session of General Assembly, entitled “A Bill establishing a provision for Teachers of the Christian Religion,” and conceiving that the same if finally armed with the sanctions of a law, will be a dangerous abuse of power, are bound as faithful members of a free State to remonstrate against it, and to declare the reasons by which we are determined. We remonstrate against the said Bill…<br />
<br />
…<br />
<br />
“3. Because it is proper to take alarm at the first experiment on our liberties. We hold this prudent jealousy to be the first duty of Citizens, and one of the noblest characteristics of the late Revolution. The free men of America did not wait till usurped power had strengthened itself by exercise, and entangled the question in precedents. They saw all the consequences in the principle, and they avoided the consequences by denying the principle. We revere this lesson too much soon to forget it. Who does not see that the same authority which can establish Christianity, in exclusion of all other Religions, may establish with the same ease any particular sect of Christians, in exclusion of all other Sects?”<br />
<br />
James Madison. Memorial and Remonstrance against Religious Assessments. C. June 20, 1785<br />
<br />
4. You shall not bar your neighbor from public office on the basis of his beliefs.<br />
<br />
“The proscribing any citizen as unworthy the public confidence by laying upon him an incapacity of being called to offices of trust and emolument unless he profess or renounce this or that religious opinion is depriving him injuriously of those privileges and advantages to which, in common with his fellow citizens, he has a natural right.”<br />
<br />
Thomas Jefferson: Statute for Religious Freedom, 1779. ME 2:301, Papers 2:546<br />
<br />
5. All religions shall have equal recognition.<br />
<br />
“The bill for establishing religious freedom, the principles of which had, to a certain degree, been enacted before, I had drawn in all the latitude of reason & right. It still met with opposition; but, with some mutilations in the preamble, it was finally past; and a singular proposition proved that its protection of opinion was meant to be universal. Where the preamble declares that coercion is a departure from the plan of the holy author of our religion, an amendment was proposed, by inserting the word “Jesus Christ,” so that it should read ”departure from the plan of Jesus Christ, the holy author of our religion” the insertion was rejected by a great majority, in proof that they meant to comprehend, within the mantle of it’s protection, the Jew and the Gentile, the Christian and Mahometan, the Hindoo, and infidel of every denomination.”<br />
<br />
Thomas Jefferson, July 27, 1821, Autobiography. ME 1:67.<br />
<br />
6. You shall be religiously neutral.<br />
<br />
“Believing with you that religion is a matter which lies solely between Man & his God, that he owes account to none other for his faith or his worship, that the legitimate powers of government reach actions only, & not opinions, I contemplate with sovereign reverence that act of the whole American people which declared that their legislature should “make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof, “thus building a wall of separation between Church<br />
& State.”<br />
<br />
Jefferson, Thomas. “Jefferson’s Letter to the Danbury Baptists: The Final Letter, as Sent.” The Library of Congress Information Bulletin: June 1998. Lib. of Cong., June 1998. Wednesday, 7 Aug.<br />
2010.<br />
<br />
7. You shall exclude the clergy of any religion from your public schools.<br />
<br />
“Ministers of the Gospel are excluded [from serving as Visitors of the county Elementary Schools] to avoid jealousy from the other sects, were the public education committed to the ministers of a particular one; and with more reason than in the case of their exclusion from the legislative and executive functions.”<br />
<br />
Thomas Jefferson: Note to Elementary School Act, 1817. ME 17:419<br />
<br />
8. You shall not disturb the religion and peace of other nations with missionaries.<br />
<br />
“I do not know that it is a duty to disturb by missionaries the religion and peace of other countries, who may think themselves bound to extinguish by fire and fagot the heresies to which we give the name of conversions, and quote our own example for it. Were the Pope, or his holy allies, to send in mission to us some thousands of Jesuit priests to convert us to their orthodoxy, I suspect that we should deem and treat it as a national aggression on our peace and faith.”<br />
<br />
Thomas Jefferson to Michael Megear, 1823. ME 15:434<br />
<br />
9. You shall not ban any books.<br />
<br />
“I am really mortified to be told that, in the United States of America, a fact like this [i.e., the purchase of an apparent geological or astronomical work] can become a subject of inquiry, and of criminal inquiry too, as an offense against religion; that a question about the sale of a book can be carried before the civil magistrate. Is this then our freedom of religion? and are we to have a censor whose imprimatur shall say what books may be sold, and what we may buy? And who is thus to dogmatize religious opinions for our citizens? Whose foot is to be the measure to which ours are all to be cut or stretched? Is a priest to be our inquisitor, or shall a layman, simple as ourselves, set up his reason as the rule for what we are to read, and what we must believe? …. for God’s sake, let us freely hear both sides, if we choose.”<br />
<br />
Thomas Jefferson to N. G. Dufief, 1814. ME 14:127<br />
<br />
10. You shall question the Bible.<br />
<br />
“The whole history of these books is so defective and doubtful that it seems vain to attempt minute enquiry into it: and such tricks have been played with their text, and with the texts of other books relating to them, that we have a right, from that cause, to entertain much doubt what parts of them are genuine. In the New Testament there is internal evidence that parts of it have proceeded from an extraordinary man; and that other parts are of the fabric of very inferior minds. It is as easy to separate those parts, as to pick out diamonds from dunghills.”<br />
<br />
Thomas Jefferson, letter to John Adams, January 24, 1814<br />
<br />
“And the day will come when the mystical generation of Jesus, by the supreme being as his father in the womb of a virgin will be classed with the fable of the generation of Minerve in the brain of Jupiter. But may we hope that the dawn of reason and freedom of thought in these United States will do away with this artificial scaffolding, and restore to us the primitive and genuine doctrines of this most venerated reformer of human errors.”<br />
<br />
Thomas Jefferson, Letter to John Adams, April 11, 1823<br />
<br />
I do not believe in the creed professed by the Jewish church, by the Roman church, by the Greek church, by the Turkish church, by the Protestant church, nor by any church that I know of. My own mind is my own church.<br />
<br />
The Age of Reason. Thomas Paine. Chapter I – The Author’s Profession of Faith.<br />
<br />
EVERY national church or religion has established itself by pretending some special mission from God, communicated to certain individuals. The Jews have their Moses; the Christians their Jesus Christ, their apostles and saints; and the Turks their Mahomet; as if the way to God was not open to every man alike.<br />
<br />
Each of those churches shows certain books, which they call revelation, or the Word of God. The Jews say that their Word of God was given by God to Moses face to face; the Christians say, that their Word of God came by divine inspiration; and the Turks say, that their Word of God (the Koran) was brought by an angel from heaven. Each of those churches accuses the other of unbelief; and, for my own part, I disbelieve them all.<br />
<br />
Ibid. Chapter II – Of Missions and Revelations.<br />
<br />
IT is upon this plain narrative of facts, together with another case I am going to mention, that the Christian mythologists, calling themselves the Christian Church, have erected their fable, which for absurdity and extravagance is not exceeded by anything that is to be found in the mythology of the ancients.<br />
<br />
Ibid. Chapter IV – Of the Bases of Christianity.<br />
<br />
Whenever we read the obscene stories, the voluptuous debaucheries, the cruel and torturous executions, the unrelenting vindictiveness, with which more than half the Bible is filled, it would be more consistent that we called it the word of a demon, than the Word of God. It is a history of wickedness, that has served to corrupt and brutalize mankind; and, for my own part, I sincerely detest it, as I detest everything that is cruel.<br />
<br />
Ibid. Chapter VII – Examination of the Old Testament.<br />
<br />Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-66009851561055510552012-05-19T14:53:00.001-05:002012-05-19T14:53:26.934-05:00RIP Marty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5mEiuShzG_xSwK-uVQUnCYHkm9DMGiSXFXSRemR-mp70HFFiNlw-_wC6tVmsZyA8YvTMITnfua-tSEX8TH5ZIGpOe_6fS8_ud7Ieha8xiwNHKH7kB7WsMhdZP08P1Q3B6slz6Cg6jg/s1600/martoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5mEiuShzG_xSwK-uVQUnCYHkm9DMGiSXFXSRemR-mp70HFFiNlw-_wC6tVmsZyA8YvTMITnfua-tSEX8TH5ZIGpOe_6fS8_ud7Ieha8xiwNHKH7kB7WsMhdZP08P1Q3B6slz6Cg6jg/s1600/martoon.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Marty Sundvall (12/12/1965 - 5/13/2012)</div>
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red;">WARNING: Some of this post may be too graphic for some readers. </span></b></h3>
<br />
My friend Marty was looking pretty bad back in February. His legs and feet got so swollen he couldn't even tie his shoes and his skin and eyes were taking on a sickly yellow hue. In his words:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I had been feeling weird for a couple weeks. In that time my energy was
zapped, I was very disoriented, my abdomen and feet started to swell and
my eyes were an ugly shade of yellow. </blockquote>
Being a stoic Minnesotan, he ignored it and continued life as usual, teaching classes at SCSU and the Minnesota School of Business, and having a few cocktails at the White Horse. But his Saturday and Sunday sojourns to the bar left him feeling sick and he was in bed by early Sunday evening. <br />
<br />
Monday morning he could barely walk.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I got up in time to catch the bus to St Cloud State and opted to tough
it out. Well, the bus stop is probably 500 feet from my office and I had
to stop 4 times to bend over a garbage can or retaining wall before
stumbling into my office. My department chairman took a look
at me and immediately drove me to the hospital. Once there the admitting
nurse looked at me and said, "liver disease."</blockquote>
He was admitted to the hospital where they pumped him full of fluids, did ultrasounds of his innards and took a lot of blood samples. He didn't sleep at all that night.<br />
<br />
On Tuesday he got a visit from a worker from the Chemical Dependency Department of the hospital who asked him when he'd had his last drink. He told her that it had been on Sunday. She told him that when he came in on Monday his blood-alcohol level was .22 -- almost three times the legal limit. Marty started to cry.<br />
<br />
They stuck a tube into his belly and drained a liter and a half of liquid which they sent to the lab for analysis. Tuesday night he slept, but it was one of the longest nights of his life.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I just had no answers.</blockquote>
Wednesday: more ultrasounds, more IVs, more blood samples... then some good news: the fluid they took showed no signs of cancer, all his hepatitis tests came back negative, all the veins and arteries to his liver were open and flowing, and although his liver was inflamed, there were no clots and it showed no signs of cirrhosis. That was the best news he'd gotten in days.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, however, his blood refused to clot, his magnesium levels were low and a few other items, so they kept running IVs and testing his blood. His arms were black and blue from all the attention they'd been getting.<br />
<br />
A couple of CAT scans showed no other damage. A scope down his stomach and a colonoscopy showed no signs of varicose veins, which sometimes occur with liver disease. The doctor said that with time, maybe 6 months or so, Marty's liver would regenerate itself.<br />
<br />
The rest of the week was spent getting his hemoglobin count up so that his blood would begin to clot again. By Monday all his levels were in the green and he was discharged.<br />
<br />
But...<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Now the hard part starts. I cannot drink. Cannot. Cannot. Cannot.
Cannot. I drink; I die. And I am limited to 2 grams of sodium a day. So a
complete lifestyle change, and day one and two have been a success. </blockquote>
The next time I saw him he looked a little gaunt. He'd lost 70 lbs. off his 300 lb. frame and he looked like a man who had seen a ghost. But he improved, and those of us who know him would probably all agree that he kept improving and it looked like he was going to make a complete recovery.<br />
<br />
He quit drinking completely, he cut sodium from his diet and actually started cooking for himself, rather than eating fast food, he started riding his bike again and his doctors said he was showing improvement. In fact, one day I saw him wearing a Buddha-like smile and he told me that his doctor had given him the okay to eat a Reuben sandwich, "It was <i>delicious!"</i><br />
<br />
That was that, Marty was supposed to make a full recovery in time. But that's not what happened.<br />
<br />
The week before his death, Robert, his roommate, noticed that he was spending a lot of time lying down in his room, he was moaning to himself, which he would stop doing when he knew Robert was in earshot. He started doing little else than walking between the bathroom and his bedroom, a trip of around 10 feet. Robert had a few conversations with him through his bedroom door. On the Friday before his death, Robert asked him if he was okay and if he should call anyone, Marty replied through the closed door, "I'll be fine, I'm a hard-headed son of a bitch." As far as we know, those were the last words he spoke to anyone.<br />
<br />
Several people tried calling him on Saturday, but got only his voice mail. More people tried texting him and received no reply. Robert was one of the ones who called. He tried again on Sunday, Mother's Day, still no answer.<br />
<br />
Robert called Knuckles and asked if he could look in on Marty since he hadn't heard from him. Knuckles called me as I sat on my porch on a beautiful Sunday morning<br />
<br />
"C'mon, man, it's Marty," I said, "he'll do what he always does on weekends: sleep until 2 PM. We'll see him at the White Horse tonight playing poker. Like always."<br />
<br />
Then I got a call from Robert. Kate and I were out of the house and walking down the street to Marty's before we even hung up (their house is a block from ours).<br />
<br />
When we got there we found Knuckles, a little frantic and very concerned. The house is a rambler that was built somewhere in the 60s, just like the house I grew up in, and they're not very difficult to break into if you have to. We found a basement window open with a loose screen and Kate, being the skinny one, was able to shimmy through and let us in the side door of the house.<br />
<br />
All three of us approached Marty's bedroom door, I think we all expected what came next... we found Marty lying on the floor, face up, naked as the day he was born.<br />
<br />
"Oh, my god! <i>MARTY?!"</i> Knuckled shouted.<br />
<br />
I knelt down and was going to feel for a pulse in his neck. There was no need, he was cold.<br />
<br />
We called 911 and waited for the police to show up. They took statements from each of us as we called person after person, friend after friend, to give them the bad news. Brad came over, as did Rebecca Rose, some other friends showed, too. We all stood there in shock and sadness.<br />
<br />
A huge number of people gathered that night at the White Horse to remember our friend. We drank, we laughed, we cried, we stood in silent thought, we sang.<br />
<br />
On Monday a group of us gathered to meet his mother and brother and to help them clean up his house.<br />
<br />
On Thursday there was a memorial service, the best I've ever been to. People shared stories and memories of Marty. They spoke of friendship and kindness and told amazing and hilarious stories. He touched more lives than I'll bet he knew. Personally, I don't think I've ever met a kinder man.<br />
<br />
At this point you may wish to stop reading as the following details may be too much.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
... <br />
<br />
I discovered that he died of a ruptured vein in his stomach. Judging by the position his body was in when we found him, I assume that he had gone to the bathroom and was on his way back to bed when the vein burst. He had an instant drop in blood pressure and passed out. He bled to death internally.<br />
<br />
That's better than a lingering cancer, I guess, or a million other more nasty ways to die. He passed out and never woke up, and I suppose that's not so bad.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
He's the first of my current circle of friends to die and that really puts my own mortality in a harsh light. I'll die, too, one day, but I'm trying my best to make that day be a long time off. I'll miss his laugh, I'll miss his jokes, I'll miss how he genuinely cared and how well he listened. And I'll miss hearing him say whenever he saw me, in his best Mel Blanc gangster voice, "Mugg-say!"<br />
<br />
RIP, Martoon. You were truly on of a kind.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-67673993582006440562012-04-12T12:43:00.000-05:002012-04-12T12:43:47.218-05:00Risky BusinessHave you ever heard of "lane splitting"? Some motorcyclists believe that their small size and agility makes driving in between cars on multi-lane highways an acceptable behavior, especially during traffic jams and slowdowns. In most states such action is illegal, and for good reason. In other states, however, it is perfectly legal. I think it's dangerous and stupid.<br />
<br />
The risks are plentiful, any bicycle rider who has gotten "doored", any pedestrian who has been (or nearly been) hit by a driver who looked one way but not the other, any highway driver who has been nearly sideswiped by someone changing lanes can tell you that drivers, for the most part, don't pay attention to things unless they're right in front of them -- and there are a lot of drivers who don't even do that. Any motorcyclist who engages in this behavior is putting their very lives into the hands of other drivers.<br />
<br />
Why is lane splitting dangerous? Because of this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/w5Bci82yjyA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Granted, you can search YouTube and find all sorts of videos of people lane splitting successfully, but this one video is all I need to convince me that it's a stupid, risky behavior. If you engage in lane splitting and you get hit, you're asking for it, and I have no sympathy for you.<br />
<br />
That goes for all kinds of risky behavior: play Russian roulette and lose? No sympathy. Use explosives as toys and lose some fingers or a limb? No sympathy. Throw blood in shark infested water, go swimming and get bit? No sympathy. Reach into a fire and then complain that you got burned? No sympathy.<br />
<br />
Now, should my lack of sympathy be regarded as advocating the death, dismemberment or injury of motorcycle riders, gun enthusiasts, ocean biologists and campers? No. Not at all. Not even a little. My point is that if you engage recklessly in risky behavior you need to be prepared to accept the possible consequences of your action. The thing with lane splitting is that it's not only the rider who is effected, the driver has to live with it too.<br />
<br />
The best thing for motorcyclists, in my opinion, is to stay off the freeways whenever possible. Drivers on the Interstates are idiots and you should minimize your exposure to them. Take back roads whenever you can, monitor your speed, keep your eyes open at all times and don't engage in the risky business of lane splitting. You'll still make it home in time to watch Surviving With The Dancing Stars Factor.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-3735024127354872242012-03-06T12:08:00.000-06:002012-03-06T12:08:48.243-06:00Skeptical Questions That Need To Be AskedThe following is an adaptation of a list from the Rational Enquirer (Vol. 6, No. 4 if you can find it), a now defunct skeptic magazine as near as I can tell. Regardless, it sums up my way of thinking about "mystic woo," such as dowsing, numerology, telekinesis, ESP, UFOs, homeopathy, and any phenomenon that uses the word "psycho" as its prefix, such as psychokinesis and psychoenergetics.<br />
<br />
Adherents to the above mentioned pseudo-sciences and their followers will often claim that they have some sort of "proof" of their claims. However, much of what they present is anecdotal at worst or just bad science at best.<br />
<br />
These questions need to be asked before a claim can be given any consideration:
<br />
<ol>
<li>Has the subject shown progress?
</li>
<li>Does the discipline use technical words such as "vibration" or "energy" without clearly defining what they mean?
</li>
<li>Would accepting the tenets of a claim require you to abandon any well established physical laws?
</li>
<li>Are popular articles on the subject lacking in references?
</li>
<li>Is the only evidence offered anecdotal in nature?
</li>
<li>Does the proponent of the subject claim that "air-tight" experiments have been performed that prove the truth of the subject matter, and that cheating would have been impossible?
</li>
<li>Are the results of the aforementioned experiments successfully repeated by other researchers?
</li>
<li>Does the proponent of the subject claim to be overly or unfairly criticized?
</li>
<li>Is the subject taught only in non-credited institutions?
</li>
<li>Are the best texts on the subject decades old?
</li>
<li>Does the proponent of the claim use what one writer has called "factuals" - statements that are a largely or wholly true but unrelated to the claim?
</li>
<li>When criticized, do the defenders of the claim attack the critic rather than the criticism?
</li>
<li>Does the proponent make appeals to history (i.e. it has been around a long time, so it must be true)?
</li>
<li>Does the subject display the "shyness effect" (sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't)?
</li>
<li>Does the proponent use the appeal to ignorance argument ("there are more things under heaven … than are dreamed of in your philosophy …")?
</li>
<li>Does the proponent use alleged expertise in other areas to lend weight to the claim?
</li>
</ol>
If an idea fails to come out of that list unscathed it isn't worth considering, in my opinion, and should be rejected. Continued belief in such things is nothing but fooling one's self, and that's not the way I want to live.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-85024096615060126582012-01-10T13:16:00.002-06:002012-01-10T13:16:18.648-06:00Energy and Toxins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4uae-Z2AyJFMEehyLQNm8zm2TfNO7BFu5hyM4W4KiWzTaLXVrtO_jW7-M4dJjEi1wmi6RDc3_uu58hdPi0EP_thLxE1LKwQsZA6J82qoJike1cGptnMpcqWoZFchYyNeCULRE67rDBQ/s1600/woo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4uae-Z2AyJFMEehyLQNm8zm2TfNO7BFu5hyM4W4KiWzTaLXVrtO_jW7-M4dJjEi1wmi6RDc3_uu58hdPi0EP_thLxE1LKwQsZA6J82qoJike1cGptnMpcqWoZFchYyNeCULRE67rDBQ/s320/woo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
One of the things that has always bothered me in the world of "woo" is the bandying about of the terms "energy" and "toxins." Energy, in the world of "woo" is a positive or negative influence, it can effect one's emotions and health, and can have an effect others. A bad day can be attributed to "having bad energy," an illness can be caused by "a blockage of energy flow," and getting picked last for the kickball team can be blamed on either your own "bad energy" or that of the people doing the picking (losing the game could be blamed on "bad energy" on the part of the whole team). I'll address "toxins" later.<br />
<br />
In science, specifically physics, energy is:<br />
<blockquote>
...the capacity of a physical system to do "work," the product of a force times the distance through which that force acts. In physics, energy is a term to express the power to move things, either potential or actual. Energy is not a thing itself, but an attribute of something...<br />
-- <a href="http://www.skepdic.com/energy.html" target="_blank">the Skeptic's Dictionary</a></blockquote>
Energy is not a substance any more than "mass" or "volume" are, and
nothing can be "made of" energy any more than something can be "made of"
mass or "made of" volume. <br />
<br />
In physics, energy can be measured, calculated and even manipulated and harnessed and it is <i>not</i> measured in terms of "good" or "bad." In the "New Age" world there are no measures, no joules, no footpounds, no volts or calories and it <i>is</i> classified as either "good" or "bad." Also, "New Age" adherents claim that such energy can be "channeled" or "influenced" by such things as crystals, sounds, pyramids and even colored lights.<br />
<br />
Let's say that someone goes to a New Age healer and they are subjected to a series of soft, colored lights while they are told to lay motionless with their eyes closed and relax. At the end of the "treatment" they may feel more rested, perhaps more energetic and they get the sense that their "energy" has been "cleansed" or "redirected." But laying down motionless and relaxing with one's eyes closed for a half-hour can elicit the same relaxed and energetic feeling with no colored lights required, it's called taking a nap. The feeling that one's "energy" has been "cleansed" or "redirected" can easily, and more likely, be attributed to both the placebo effect, confirmation bias and good old ignorance -- one believes that colored lights will help so they do. There is no scientific basis for believing that colored lights will do anything, positive or negative, for a persons well being, likewise for crystals, pyramids, and a myriad of other so called "treatments."<br />
<br />
"But," say the woo-meisters, "the subtle energies of the universe cannot be measured." Then how do they know they're there? How do they know they are manipulating them? How do they know that it is the manipulation of these "subtle energies" that bring about their desired results and not something as simple as the subject/customer just took a nap? If they want to use terms like "energy" and borrow terms from quantum physics then they have to adhere to the terms and measures defined by quantum physicists.<br />
<br />
The subject of "toxins" takes less time to debunk. There are a number of "New Age treatments" that are supposed to "remove toxins from the body." Ear candeling (the burning of hollow candles that are placed, obviously, in the ear), cupping (glass cups are placed on the skin and the air inside is heated), and even foot pads are said to "remove toxins" from one's system. Unfortunately, the exact toxins are rarely or never named nor are they measured, exactly how the candle/cup/foot pad "removes" said "toxins" is never explained and where the supposed "toxins" go is never clarified.<br />
<br />
The only way to ascertain whether these "New Age" practices were effective or not would be to first define exactly which "toxins" are going to be removed, to confirm the presence of said "toxins" and their quantity and then to measure them again once treatment was completed. Since no one takes these steps, the claims that the treatments are effective is anecdotal at best.<br />
<br />
There <i>is</i> a perfectly sound way of removing toxins from your system however, it's called your liver, kidneys and urinary tract.<br />
<br />
"What's the harm?" you may ask. People spend millions of dollars every year on quack cures like ear candeling, light therapy and crystals, and that's their prerogative, but if one person gets sicker or even dies after believing they have been treated by a "New Age" cure, when all they've actually done is waste their money and ignore the actual cause of their illness... well, that's harm a-plenty. Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-29464006817109108832011-11-21T13:03:00.001-06:002011-11-21T14:41:56.563-06:00I Ain't Scared of No Ghost<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/the_data_so_far.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="305" src="http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/the_data_so_far.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Around Halloween ghost stories come out of the woodwork and get told and retold, news organizations send reporters out to the area’s “most haunted” places and do fluffy, one-sided “news” reports about the ghosts that people have “seen” or “experienced.” I saw one recently that took place at one of my favorite venues in St. Cloud, the <a href="http://ppfive.com/index.php" target="_blank">Pioneer Place Theatre/Veranda Lounge</a>. Now I hear tell that there is going to be a “documentary” made about the so-called “ghosts” that “haunt” the place.<br />
<br />
The theatre’s artistic producer and all around great guy, Dan Barth, was interviewed and he stated that the theatre had hired four different psychics to come in and each of them said that, yes, indeed the place was haunted. One of them said there were four ghosts, I don’t know if any of the others came up with a specific number, but four has become the accepted number.<br />
<br />
Now, I will say nothing bad about Dan, he is one of my favorite people in the world, but I will say something about supposed psychics. Of course the four people hired by the theatre are going to come in and say they “feel” something, that’s how they get paid, so right away I am dubious about their motivation and their findings. No psychic in the history of their profession has ever been shown to actually have psychic abilities (Don't believe me? Look <a href="http://skepdic.com/randi.html" target="_blank">here</a>), their methods are unproven and using a unproven method to measure an unproven phenomenon is of little scientific value.<br />
<br />
Everything else about the supposed haunting of the Pioneer Place is based on stories (anecdotal evidence), feelings and other equally unmeasurable, ambiguous and non-confirmable phenomenon. Flickering lights, cold spots and things that go bump in the night can be caused by a thousand different things, especially in a building that’s 100 years old.<br />
<br />
A few years back I worked downtown, two doors down from the Pioneer Place, and I once saw movement out of the corner of my eye at 3:30 AM and another time heard strange thumping noises coming from the floor above. Some would cry “ghost” if they had the same experiences. Not me, I’d require proof and there is none.<br />
<br />
The question I like to ask people who have had “ghostly” experiences is, “how do you <i>know</i> it was a ghost?” People who believe in ghosts will take a spooky, unknown thing and turn it into a ghost in their mind, “what else <i>could</i> it have been?” they ask. Well, it could have been some other equally fictitious creature like a leprechaun, a fairy, a unicorn or Santa Claus. It could have been Harry Potter wearing his Invisibility Cloak or someone doing a Jedi Mind Trick. Bring that up and you’ll usually get, “but I <i>know</i> it was a ghost!” Sorry, that’s not evidence, it’s an appeal to ignorance and it’s one of the oldest logical fallacies in the book (I don’t know what it was, so it must have been a ghost). Where does a True Believer draw the line between what they believe is real (a ghost) and what is patently ridiculous (Harry Potter)?<br />
<br />
Ultimately I have a problem with the “documentary” that is going to be made because it will take a narrow, one-sided view of the Pioneer Place “haunting” and will not look at the other side, the skeptical side. Stories, anecdotes and the findings of so-called psychics will be held up as the only evidence and no one will bother to look into more plausible explanations of the experiences that are based on science. An unbalanced view is not a documentary.<br />
<br />
I fully understand that “sex sells,” and a scientific response is like a cold shower to a nice sexy ghost story, but I think that accepting the “evidence” as it is delivered and believing that something unconfirmed is responsible is doing a disservice to critical thinking, and it ultimately makes us more ignorant and more open to the type of chicanery that is practiced by psychics, those who “speak to the dead” and people who “channel” 45,000 year old warriors from Atlantis.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-83569721093354901342011-11-13T19:11:00.001-06:002011-11-14T15:14:12.102-06:00Awesome ChiliNo two of my chili recipes are the same, they are variations on a theme, but this one I just had to share. You will have to take it as given that the peppers are all fire roasted, skinned, peeled and diced.<br />
<br />
Ingredients:<br />
<br />
1 poblano pepper<br />
1 cherry bomb pepper<br />
1 serrano pepper<br />
1 jalapeño pepper<br />
1 medium onion, diced<br />
2 cloves garlic, chopped<br />
<br />
1 can chili beans<br />
1 can red kidney beans<br />
1 can diced tomatoes<br />
1 cup whole kernel corn<br />
<br />
1/2 cup cashew nuts<br />
<br />
1 lb. 80/20 ground beef<br />
1 slice bacon, diced<br />
<br />
1/2 tbsp chili powder<br />
1/2 tbsp ground cumin<br />
1/2 tbsp cilantro<br />
1 tsp salt<br />
1/2 tsp black pepper<br />
1/4 tsp turmeric<br />
1/8 tsp cinnamon<br />
<br />
2 bay leaves<br />
<br />
1/2 can (6 oz.) Coca Cola<br />
<br />
Heat a large, deep pan and add the bacon, fry it until the fat just starts to melt.<br />
Add the peppers, onion and garlic, sauté until the onions start to turn translucent.<br />
Add the ground beef and bay leaves, brown the beef.<br />
Add the dry ingredients (chili powder, etc.) and stir.<br />
Add the cashew nuts and stir.<br />
Add the canned ingredients (beans, etc.). Don't bother draining them, you're going to want all that moisture.<br />
Add the Coca Cola. Make a mixed drink with the rest.<br />
<br />
That's it. Heat it and eat it. The cashews add a little crunch, the cinnamon adds a little wonder and the Coke adds a little sweetness.<br />
<br />
It's one of the best chili recipes I've ever done.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-15287633225194909612011-10-25T12:54:00.000-05:002012-01-12T11:55:24.213-06:00Mystical Woo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I ran into an old friend recently, back "in the day" I wanted badly to be her boyfriend but that never worked out. I hadn't seen her in years and she's still as pretty as she was then. She's also still a big proponent of what I call "mystical woo" and that just doesn't sit right with a skeptic like me.<br />
<br />
Let's start with the so-called "Law of Attraction," wherein a person thinks of something and that thing happens, or a person thinks of someone and then sees that person for the first time in years. Obviously, that subject came up, especially the second part.<br />
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The first thing you need to know about the "Law of Attraction" is that is was made up around the turn of the century by William Walker Atkinson, an attorney, merchant and publisher -- you will notice a profound lack of the word "scientist" in his list of occupations. Like many people, he looked for some divine or mystical principal that drives something as simple as coincidence and "found" it (easy to do when you know what you want your outcome to be and you cherry pick your results).<br />
<br />
The second thing you should know about the "Law of Attraction" is that it has never been independently verified or confirmed in any way.<br />
<br />
To be considered a "Law" an observed phenomenon must be consistently repeatable and invariable. Let's take Newton's Third Law as an example: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Row a boat into the middle of a lake, stand on the edge and dive into the water... you'll do a belly flop because the force you apply as you jump pushes the boat in the opposite direction. And it will happen every time you try it.<br />
<br />
If the "Law of Attraction" were a true Law a person would just have to think of something to make it happen. Hungry? Think of food. Thirsty? Think of water. Poor? Think of money. Lonely? Think of company. Ridiculous! If something is going to be a law, the expected outcome has to happen every time, if it doesn't it's no law.<br />
<br />
Now, an adherent to mystical woo would probably suggest that only thoughts of "True Merit" would manifest themselves, but to me that implies that there is someone or something that is weighing the relative morality of each thought. If so, that entity is an evil son of a bitch. You can't tell me that a starving person doesn't think of food, and to deny a starving person food is an immoral act.<br />
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Or they might say that the person doing the thinking didn't "do it right" which directly flies in the face of the "Law of Attraction" being an actual physical law. That also sounds an awful lot like "you pray wrong," one of the main reasons wars have been fought.<br />
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Next on her list was the Mayan calendar. Dozens of Mayan scholars have figured, and they all agree, that the end of the Mayan calendar will fall on December, 21, 2012, but there are a few who think it's actually October 28, 2011, and those are the ones she listens to. I'm positive that her interpretation was extremely flawed because she was talking about levels and triangles, yet every Mayan calendar I've ever seen is disc-shaped. <br />
<br />
Somehow, one of these people has figured that the Mayans knew the exact age of the universe and that it is 16.5 billion years old. However, current estimates based on actual observable science estimate the age at between 13 and 14 billion years. That's a rather significant difference. Thankfully, she doesn't believe that the world will end, but that the human race will enter a "new level of consciousness" -- another unmeasurable phenomenon.<br />
<br />
There was some other stuff in which she told me about a "scientist" who is finding that the Power of Thought can affect the outcome of experiments. I looked him up, his methods are scientifically flawed -- he is out to prove something instead of experimenting and recording his findings, his findings cannot be replicated or verified by other scientists, and he has published no peer reviewed papers in any scientific journals. But that doesn't stop her in believing that what he is reporting is valid because he is supposedly on the "cutting edge" of science. No actual scientists think so.<br />
<br />
When she got on the subject of "water memory" (a big part of homeopathic "medicine") I had to stop her because that's one thing I've done some reading about. Water doesn't have memory and they guy who claimed it did had all of his findings falsified by actual scientists. <br />
<br />
So why the burr under my blanket? It was the pitied pat on the arm she gave me while being accusing me of denial of something Bigger Than Us. I wouldn't take that from a religious person who believed in God and the Bible and I won't take it from a friend who believes in mystical woo.<br />
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I am a skeptic. I refuse to accept things that cannot be measured, predicted or verified by actual observable phenomenon. Things like the Law of Attraction and water memory have been discredited by science, yet people still believe in them. I cannot, I <i>will not</i> do so. I come to this decision with as much passion as the most fervent and devout worshipper of the divine or mystical.<br />
<br />
Show me a new estimate about the age of the universe based on science and I will accept it, "figuring" that the Mayans "knew" the "actual" age of universe won't suffice. And if the science comes in that puts the age at 16.5 billion years it will mean that new, observable information has come to light, it won't mean that the people who figured the Mayan thing were right -- it will mean that they <i>guessed</i> right.<br />
<br />
(Let's take a jar filled with marbles. I can state that there are 120 marbles in the jar. If we take them out, count them and find 120 it doesn't mean I knew how many marbles were in the jar, it means I guessed correctly.)<br />
<br />
I love science fiction and the Jedi Mind Trick, telepathic communication or the Vulcan Mind Meld are fun things to imagine, but I don't believe in any of them any more than I'd believe in a "Law of Attraction" -- they are all equal ideas, having been dreamed up by someone. And just because something <i>sounds</i> believable doesn't make it real.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-10048687697962165492011-08-12T12:41:00.001-05:002011-08-12T12:44:03.686-05:00Okay, Calm DownBack in 2009 I wrote about a guy in <a href="http://muggsysbrain.blogspot.com/2009/07/why-hell-do-i-care-what-some-idiot-from.html">Florida</a> who is a member of the same online forum as I. He was young, arrogant and had a chip on his shoulder the size of Gibraltar. Later he mellowed out, became a thoughtful if not a bit snarky person and became one of my favorite posters. That all changed again recently when the subject of "lane-splitting" on a motorcycle came up. <br />
<br />
Lane splitting is when a motorcyclist weaves in and out of traffic congestion by driving between lanes and between vehicles. Any space they see is fair game. I see the practice for what it is: stupid and dangerous. Any motorcyclist who engages in this practice is asking to get side-swiped, hurt or killed. Any motorcyclist who engages in this practice and <i>is</i> side-swiped, hurt or killed is getting exactly what they asked for.<br />
<br />
Dude in Florida believes that he is entitled to lane-split merely because he is driving a motorcycle. "Why should I be stuck just because you're all stuck in your cages?" he asks.<br />
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Because you're driving a motor vehicle, you stupid fuck. You don't get special treatment because you happen to be on a motorcycle. There aren't a separate set of rules for you and you aren't entitled to anything.<br />
<br />
I hate people who think they are entitled to something just because of who they are or what they own. That's selfish and childish and I can think of no worse kind of person except maybe a serial killer. There is no difference between a lane-splitting motorcyclist and a jerk in a BMW who thinks he can go 90 mph because he has money. Fuck them both and their sense of entitlement.<br />
<br />
Reckless behavior endangers everyone, not just the guy on the bike. The driver who kills the lane-splitting motorcyclist has to live with that death for the rest of their life, even if it was the idiot on the bike's fault.<br />
<br />
There is no good reason for lane-splitting and I have no sympathy for the person who does it and gets hurt or killed.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-35265447107344678482011-07-30T13:31:00.002-05:002011-07-30T13:34:24.138-05:00Latest Roaster SagaI had a gig down in Rochester on Monday of last week so I didn't make it in to work. On Tuesday morning I fired up the roaster, waited an appropriate amount of time and went to check on the pre-heating process only to find that the temperature was holding at 350 degrees. I need between 415-450 to roast beans so I had to figure out what was wrong.<br />
<br />
Looking at the burners I saw that several of them weren't firing at all, so I cleaned them all off with a wire brush and tried again. No dice.<br />
<br />
I started thinking that maybe the thermometer was wrong, since it was cracked (has been for some time) and a little bent. It hadn't been wrong in the past, but I wanted to make sure so I ordered a new one. It came on Wednesday, I installed it, preheated the roaster and got 350 degrees again. I tired contacting Probat, but no one called me back.<br />
<br />
Thursday I called them again and they suggested that maybe there were some gas valves that were acting up, which happens sometimes to a roaster with as many hours on it as mine. So I order the two they suggested, one was $18, the other was $130. I didn't want to pay a ridiculous amount for over night shipping, but I asked them to send it the next fastest way.<br />
<br />
Friday I knew I wouldn't see them. Monday I expected them, but they never showed. A call to Probat for a tracking number was met by a voice mailbox and no returned call.<br />
<br />
Tuesday I sat around until 11:30 and called them again, got the voice mailbox again. I called again an hour later and was told that everyone was out to lunch, but that the guy who I had been leaving messages for would call me back when he got back. At 2:10 my parts showed up. At 2:35 the guy called and told me that the package had been delivered and signed for. Fucking jerk.<br />
<br />
Wednesday the plumber came and installed the one of the new valves (the expensive one), he looked at the other and said it was fine. When we fired the roaster up again we had the same problem and that's when we determined that the gas jets were clogged.<br />
<br />
It took a little doing, but we were able to remove the entire burner assembly. I took it apart and brought it to Ickler Co., a local machine shop that does incredible work, and they said they could clean them up no problem.<br />
<br />
So another Thursday came and I got the parts back. They were beautiful! I had no idea they were made of anodized zinc and were gold in color, they'd always been black to me. I put the burner back together and with the help of the plumber (AAA rocks!) re-installed it. When we fired up the roaster it came back to life like it was ready to work hard. The flame was good, clean and strong and -- most importantly -- adjustable.<br />
<br />
I was able to catch up with all my roasting and I'm back running at 100%, in fact the roaster is behaving better than it has in years!<br />
<br />
It figures that the $50 fix would be the one to do it after I'd already spend hundreds on other things.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-76818473411845147872011-04-24T11:31:00.001-05:002011-04-24T11:31:52.290-05:00Pork Chop Qapla!The cast of characters:<br />
<ul><li>A big ol' bone-in pork chop</li>
<li>Jerk Rub </li>
<li>Apple-Raisin-Pepper Salsa</li>
<li>Parsnip puree</li>
<li>Bourbon-brown sugar reduction </li>
</ul>The salsa is a mixture of finely diced jalapenos, Serranos, poblano, orange bell pepper, red onion, garlic, Fuji apple, raisins, salt, pepper, sugar, cilantro, cumin, white vinegar and lemon juice.<br />
<br />
The parsnip puree contains a couple of medium parsnips, a small potato, butter, white pepper and chicken stock.<br />
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The bourbon-brown sugar reduction contains pork drippings, brown sugar, salt and pepper, white vinegar and flour.<br />
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I rubbed the chop with my homemade jerk rub a couple of hours before dinner to let it really set up in the meat. The jerk rub is as follows (this makes a LOT more than you need, but then you have some around for other meals):<br />
<ul><li>1/4 cup brown sugar; light is best</li>
<li>1/4 tsp ground cumin</li>
<li>1/4 tsp ground cinnamon</li>
<li>1/4 tsp ground cloves</li>
<li>1 tsp red pepper flakes</li>
<li>1 tbsp allspice</li>
<li>2 tsp Kosher salt</li>
<li>1 tsp freshly ground pepper</li>
</ul>First I preheated the oven to 350 degrees F. <br />
<br />
The pepper part of the salsa was put together a while ago when I made a mess of burritos that I freeze for a quick dinner, I just added a half a diced apple and a handful of raisins to it. I cut a small slit in the side of the pork chop and moved my knife around until I created a large pocket with a small opening. I then stuffed the chop with the salsa until no more would fit.<br />
<br />
Then I peeled and cut into small pieces the potato and parsnips for the puree and put them in a small pan with salted water.<br />
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I took a large cast iron pan, added a little olive oil and let it get good and hot. I then seared one side of the pork chop for about 2-3 minutes until it got a nice, brown crust. I flipped it over, put my handy-dandy meat thermometer into the thickest part and stuck the whole pan into the oven. Then I started the puree a-boiling.<br />
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When the meat thermometer read 150 degrees F, I removed the pan and put the pork chop on a plate to rest. About this time the potato and parsnips were nice and soft so I strained them and tossed them into the blender with a tablespoon of butter, some white pepper and a couple of tablespoons of chicken stock, set the whole thing on "puree" and turned back to the pan with all the delicious pork drippings in it.<br />
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Over medium high heat I whisked in about a 1/2 tablespoon of flour into the drippings until it was nicely mixed and then added about two ounces of bourbon, a 1/2 tablespoon of brown sugar, a tablespoon of white vinegar, some salt and pepper and a little bit of lemon juice. I kept whisking it until it reached a gravy-like consistency.<br />
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The parsnip puree went down first, then the pork chop on top and I drizzled the bourbon mixture over the whole thing.<br />
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Served with green beans on the side it was possibly the best composed dish I've ever made. It was sweet, savory and hot at the same time and super tasty! Too bad I was cooking for myself. I can't wait to make it for Kate.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-46552028729729785122011-04-04T12:42:00.001-05:002011-04-04T12:44:00.407-05:00First Homemade Pie Crust<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/205474_10150137919793837_620283836_6552844_7292651_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/205474_10150137919793837_620283836_6552844_7292651_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I found a blog called <a href="http://cookingforassholes.blogspot.com/">Cooking for Assholes</a> that has some pretty good recipes in it, but can be way too snarky. If you're not into being insulted as you try new recipes you probably should avoid clicking the link. Seriously, the guy has this "if you can't do this you're too fucking stupid" attitude that gets old pretty quick. Too bad, because the guy knows food and his recipes are, for the most part, pretty awesome.<br />
<br />
Anyway, reading one of his posts the other day got me thinking about making another quiche, so I looked at his crust recipe, which I am going to reproduce here without all the profanity and only about half the snarkiness.<br />
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<b>Ingredients:</b><br />
1-1/4 cup all purpose flour<br />
1/2 tsp salt <br />
(If making a sweet crust add 1 tbsp sugar)<br />
1 stick (1/2 cup) cold butter, cut into small cubes<br />
3 tbsp COLD water<br />
<br />
Use your food processor -- don't have one? Get one. If you don't have one you're on your own for the rest of the recipe. All I know for sure is that if you're not using a food processor you should use your finger tips to mix everything so that you don't melt the butter. <br />
<br />
Use your food processor, put in the flour and salt and pulse it a couple of times to mix it all together. Add the cubed butter and pulse a whole bunch of times until the dough looks something like oatmeal. Add the three tablespoons of COLD water and pulse until the whole thing forms into a cohesive mass.<br />
<br />
Flour your work area, form the dough into a ball and then roll it out with a rolling pin until you get your desired thickness.<br />
<br />
That's all there is to it.<br />
<br />
Use the rolling pin as a tool to pick up the crust and place it in your pre-greased pie pan. Fill with your favorite ingredients and bake at 375 F for 40 minutes or so.<br />
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My quiche had bacon, asparagus, roasted Serrano peppers and a multi-cheese blend.<br />
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<b>My mistakes: </b>I didn't see "salt" in his recipe (it was there, I just didn't see it) and I used unsalted butter so my crust came out tender, golden, flaky and bland. I also didn't let the quiche cook long enough, funny because the knife test came out clean. I let it sit for almost a half hour and when I cut into it I got runny eggs in the middle. Fortunately, eggs are pretty forgiving and I was able to put it back in the oven for about ten minutes and they solidified up real nice.<br />
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The crust recipe is so easy, and, by the way, it is about a million times cheaper than buying pre-made crusts, that next time I'm going to try making my own pot pie. <br />
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Oh, and don't give me that "real men don't eat quiche" crap. That book was a parody.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-29535122702314239552011-02-16T11:15:00.001-06:002011-02-16T11:15:28.504-06:00I'M ENGAGED!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g235/spanier88/3915ae01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g235/spanier88/3915ae01.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Kate and I have been dating for four years now. I have never known anyone like her and I love her deeply. I proposed before, but she has never accepted before now and I wanted to record how it happened.<br />
<br />
We have been volunteers for a 50-hour trivia marathon on the local college radio station, <a href="http://www.kvsc.org/">KVSC-FM</a>, for years (the contest itself has taken place annually for over 30 years), I record song parodies with the <a href="http://www.shakeahamsterband.com/">Shake a Hamster Band</a>, she works the phone bank where the competing teams call in their answers.<br />
<br />
Across the hall from the phone bank is the food station (we are very well fed throughout the whole contest) and this year they had a big bowl of <a href="http://www.necco.com/ourbrands/default.asp?brandid=8">Necco® Sweethearts</a>, which I love (I know a lot of people who don't). Sometime during the weekend, it had to have been Friday or Saturday, I grabbed a handful and wandered across the hall to the phone bank to say "hi" to Kate and give her a kiss on the top of her head. As I walked I would read a heart and eat it, read and eat, read and eat... I found one that said "Marry Me" and I put it in front of her, kissed her and went back down to the recording studio.<br />
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I was certain that she would ignore it, seeing as it was a silly way to ask.<br />
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Monday after Trivia Weekend is a day of recovery. During the weekend sleep patterns get thrown in the trash and bedtimes of 4 AM or later are not uncommon. This year it also happened to be Valentine's Day. After laying around on the couch for most of the day we decided to start making dinner, but first she presented me with a card.<br />
<br />
"Shit!" I thought to myself, "I didn't get <i>her</i> a card."<br />
<br />
Inside the envelope, inside the card was another candy heart that said "Yes Dear." I asked her, half jokingly, if that was a response and she said, "Yes."<br />
<br />
"Really?!" <br />
<br />
"Yes."<br />
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I leaped to my feet -- I felt weightless. We hugged, we kissed... I cried. I am the happiest I have ever been! I am so in love with that girl and I am looking forward to making her my wife and of building a life together.<br />
<br />
That's the story, it's silly, it's romantic and I wouldn't change a single moment of it.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-74225498014129015922011-02-04T12:22:00.000-06:002011-02-04T12:22:46.102-06:00Cooking ErrorI got all the ingredients I needed to make spaghetti last night -- almost. I got meat, onion, garlic, mushrooms, a red pepper and a can of diced tomatoes. Notice that I didn't get any sauce, which I realized when I was getting ready to start cooking. I didn't feel like running to the store just to get a can of sauce, so I decided to reduce the recipe size and use the can of diced tomatoes as the sauce.<br />
<br />
So I got out the blender, poured the can of diced tomatoes into it and hit "liquefy." Everything was going just fine until I noticed that some of the liquid was leaking out of the bottom of the pitcher.<br />
<br />
"Oh, you're bleeding," I said, and started to remove the pitcher from the blender's base. The bottom came off completely covering the blender and the counter with tomato sauce.<br />
<br />
I cleaned up the mess and ordered a pizza.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-47846167729274005082010-12-30T12:25:00.001-06:002010-12-30T13:43:26.156-06:00More Work StressThe saga of the drive chain continues.<br />
<br />
I listened to one of my coffee roaster's main drive chains buck and kick for months before finally biting the bullet and getting it replaced. The owner's manual for the machine says that the chain could be lengthened or shortened at any bike shop. I assumed that meant the chain was a standard bicycle chain. Turns out that's not the case.<br />
<br />
Yesterday while I was preheating the roaster I heard a loud "CLUNK!" and feared the worst, I have had the drive shaft from the flywheel snap off twice before, but that wasn't it, the upper drive chain had slipped off its sprocket. So I threaded it back on, oiled it and returned to pre-heating.<br />
<br />
A few minutes later I heard another loud "CLUNK!" and ran in to look. The chain had slipped off again and was nowhere to be found. I felt around, poked around, looked... it was as if the chain had never existed. I posted this fact on Facebook and a friend suggested that maybe it had wrapped itself around the drive shaft. I felt around again and sure enough it was tightly wound around the shaft on the back side of the sprocket. I pulled it out with some effort and decided the problem couldn't be with the new chain, but must lie with the old, worn sprockets.<br />
<br />
I removed two of the sprockets and brought them over to a local machine shop to see if they could manufacture some new ones for me, but the shop foreman said they were fine and suggested that it might be using the wrong size chain. He told me to go to a local store that sells industrial chain, and not the bike shop again. So off I went.<br />
<br />
In the meantime I had tried contacting Probat, the manufacturer of my roaster, to see if they could just tell me what kind of chain I needed. I got a busy signal (I didn't even know those still existed!) a couple of times and finally got through to their voicemail, I also left a message through the contact form on their web site. Finally someone called me around 4 PM and told me that I needed #36x1/8" chain.<br />
<br />
I called the chain store again and he had to look deep into his catalogs to find #36 chain listed. It turns out its a non-standard size and that he'd need to special order it. I told him to go ahead, he took my number and told me he'd call me back. A little while later he calls back, "I had a heck of a time getting a hold of anyone there! Finally a security guard answered the phone and told me that everyone is out for the rest of the week due to the New Year holiday." He will order it on Monday and he told me that my best bet would be to put the original chain back on. It might be a little stretched out, but at least it's the right size.<br />
<br />
So this morning I came in and started putting my machine back together only to find that the original chain was one long length, instead of a loop. The guy at the bike shop had taken it apart so he could measure the length when he sold me the new one. Off to the bike shop to get the chain put back together, but wouldn't you know it, they don't open until 10 AM. Back to my shop to kill a half hour, back to the bike shop to re-loop-ify my old chain, back to my shop to install it and I'm back up and running.<br />
<br />
Next week I'll get the new chain and install it. A couple of other adjustments and I should be good to go for the new year.<br />
<br />
This is just another example of the stresses that I have to deal with at my day job. I got into the business because I wanted to roast the best beans possible, I never wanted to be a bookkeeper and a mechanic and a delivery boy and all the other things I have to be. I know, the tiny violin you have is playing just for me right now, and I do consider myself blessed to be able to have a job in the first place, and to be doing what I love. But stress sucks no matter who you are or what you do and it seems like stress is all I've been feeling about this for weeks now.<br />
<br />
<i>C'est la vie.</i>Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-49725165484629985682010-11-25T23:45:00.001-06:002010-11-26T00:09:15.902-06:00Thanksgiving Head-On CollisionI was coming back from my brother's house and Thanksgiving dinner. <br />
<br />
Young dude in an Audi heading south suddenly swerved about a half a car-width into the oncoming lane. The other driver in a green minivan or SUV (it was dark) swerved to miss him, they hit drivers side to drivers side. Suddenly I see a car going sideways (the Audi) and he winds up on the shoulder facing north.<br />
<br />
I stopped to see if he was okay, I noticed that someone else was checking on the other guy. He was a little scratched, but he was conscious and seemed fairly coherent. I called 911.<br />
<br />
All sorts of cars pulled off and about a half dozen of us or so made sure everything was okay. One guy grabbed out a snow shovel and started clearing debris, another guy said that his wife, an RN, was attending the other guy.<br />
<br />
My guy is sitting there amongst deflated airbags completely dazed and he starts digging around for his insurance card. His front left tire is completely missing, it just flew off somewhere into the adjacent farm field.<br />
<br />
Another guy who witnessed the event gave me his number in case the cops wanted to talk to him, but he had to get going. Yet another talked to the guy in the Audi, shielded him from the wind (it was 6 degrees F) and waited for the local Fire and Rescue.<br />
<br />
Cops arrived en masse, two ambulances and a couple of wrecking vehicles, too. In less than an hour they had both parties out of their cars and into the ambulances, the wreckers got both cars removed from the road and a few of the cops left.<br />
<br />
Finally a sheriff's deputy talked to me, "You'll want to talk to the highway patrol, I told him you saw it... oh, I guess he's leaving and doesn't need to talk to you. You can go."<br />
<br />
I asked him if everyone was okay, and he told me they were, "This is why we tell people not to text and drive," he said. "The young guy was texting and swerved out of his lane."<br />
<br />
"Happy Thanksgiving," I said, and came home.<br />
<br />
So there's your lesson, kids: <i><b>DON'T TEXT AND DRIVE!!!</b></i>Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-26817606764775476072010-11-05T10:35:00.000-05:002010-11-05T10:35:03.540-05:00Going Once... Going TwiceYesterday Jeff & I had a gig at the St. Cloud Civic Center for an education fund raiser and awards ceremony. We were hired to play from 4:30 - 6:00 PM during the silent auction. Afterward the "regular" auction would begin. Well, either someone forgot to tell the auctioneer or he just decided on his own to start early -- <i>really</i> early, like 4:45.<br />
<br />
He didn't start selling things right away, he interviewed a few people who were looking at the items for sale and a couple of other people from area schools who had booths set up showing processes that had won them the awards they would be given later. Then he started selling things.<br />
<br />
We didn't know what to do at first, so we stopped playing and took a small break. The contact for the gig asked us to keep playing so we got up on stage and got back to work. The auctioneer had started the auction so early and the room was so empty that I watched an Adrian Peterson autographed football go for $75. That same football would have gone for over $500 in Minneapolis or St. Paul.<br />
<br />
He keep auctioning, we kept playing. We found it really hard to concentrate, but we kept going regardless. Finally, with about 10 minutes left on our contract he finished the auction, thanked the audience and said his good-byes. He came up on stage to return the microphone he'd been using to the podium and decided, before he put it on the stand, to interview Jeff & me.<br />
<br />
It wasn't a simple "you've been listening to... what are you guys called?" He added, "which one is which," and "Muggsy's not your real name, is it?" and one more "thank you" to the crowd. By the time he was done, so was our song and so was our time.<br />
<br />
We've played in a lot of different situations for a lot of different clients. We've done everything from playing in a loud room full of people who don't even know we're there to playing at a county fair next to the grandstand while a tractor pull was going on (a one, a two, a one, two, three -- RRRROOOOAAAAARRRR!!!!), this is just another one for the books and another story.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-36261761319722679022010-11-03T10:18:00.002-05:002010-11-03T10:34:31.658-05:00Election 2010I am very depressed about the results of the 2010 midterm elections. With the Republicans in control of so much of the government I feel like all I have to look forward to is the next election when we can remove them from office again. Until then it will be more of the same bullshit thinking that comes from that side of the aisle.<br />
<br />
They deny the science of evolution and global climate change, they want to legislate from the Bible regarding who people can marry, they want to treat big business like they can do no wrong and they will work to repeal Obamacare -- one of the best things to come out of government in my lifetime (although I think that even it didn't go far enough). They will continue to build up the military, gut public education and bring abstinence only sex ed back. We will probably see something akin to the witch hunts of the 50s with every crazy Birther idea (or worse) getting its own investigative committee, too.<br />
<br />
Gone are the days of progress. Every step forward that we've made in the last two years will be either negated with a couple of steps back, or blocked from progressing further. And it's all about politics, not about what's best for the American people. They have an automatic knee-jerk reaction to anything Democratic. Obama could try to pass a resolution saying that puppies are cute and they would block it just because it came from a Democrat. Right or wrong, good or bad -- it doesn't matter, they are obstructionists when it comes to ideas that come from the left.<br />
<br />
I see nothing good coming for the next few years of US governance and I only hope that the Mayans were right and that the world will end in 2012.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-45452726784013888432010-08-28T16:24:00.003-05:002010-08-30T12:25:18.281-05:00Cooking for Many<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRk0kn7UFmHs-ysKDYu9Y5TtbsvQFXstCCHqi6-7rGCAlKGO8hyphenhyphen8yX26fgCIlcMM0_ZQqKwwMxuwMGOJ31B4Pi3gzjtHdi_uobvF1sl0NpkXpa2gCOEK1vq1qEjwD_Emcff1QBK9f6TQ/s1600/carrot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRk0kn7UFmHs-ysKDYu9Y5TtbsvQFXstCCHqi6-7rGCAlKGO8hyphenhyphen8yX26fgCIlcMM0_ZQqKwwMxuwMGOJ31B4Pi3gzjtHdi_uobvF1sl0NpkXpa2gCOEK1vq1qEjwD_Emcff1QBK9f6TQ/s320/carrot.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I have four days to perfect and then multiply a cold carrot soup recipe. I've done a bunch of hunting and research and finally decided on the following recipe for Cold Carrot Soup with Orange and Cumin. <br />
<br />
<blockquote><b>INGREDIENTS</b><br />
1 teaspoon canola oil<br />
1/3 small onion, cut into 1/4-inch slices<br />
2 teaspoons ground cumin<br />
5 medium carrots, diced<br />
6 cups vegetable broth<br />
1 teaspoon sea salt, optional<br />
1 cup fresh orange juice<br />
2 teaspoons fresh lime juice, optional<br />
1 teaspoon grated orange zest for garnish<br />
6 sprigs of fresh dill for garnish, optional<br />
<br />
1. Heat the canola oil in a medium-sized pot set over medium-high heat. Add the onion; sauté, stirring for 2 to 3 minutes or until soft and translucent.<br />
<br />
2. Stir in the cumin; cook for about 2 minutes to bring out the pungent aroma of the spice. Stir in the carrots, stock or broth and salt, if using; simmer partially covered, for 30 to 40 minutes or until the carrots are tender. Remove from the heat and let cool.<br />
<br />
3. Transfer the soup to a blender or food processor, fitted with a metal blade, and process until smooth. Blend in the orange juice and lime juice, if using. Transfer to a bowl or storage container, cover and refrigerate until well chilled.<br />
<br />
4. Serve cold in chilled soup bowls. Garnish with orange zest and dill, if desired.<br />
<br />
Makes 4 servings.</blockquote><br />
In my research I noticed an awful lot of similarities between the recipes and I've started thinking I could do one from scratch with no recipe whatsoever.<br />
<br />
This recipe is very simple compared to many others that called for more exotic ingredients. I've worked with fennel bulb only once before and don't want to try it here. I wanted to avoid the seemingly unavoidable chicken stock as I will be feeding some vegetarians (which also ruled out any recipes involving sour cream or its like).<br />
<br />
The problem I am having at this point is trying to size this recipe up to the Herculean portion that is required. It says it makes "four servings" but it doesn't exactly say what a serving size is. If I go with the industry standard, it's an 8 oz. cup, but I can't see how 6 cups of veggie stock, 1 cup of O.J. and all the moisture from the carrots could reduce down to 32 ounces of liquid. Certainly you will lose some moisture as the stock boils, but I really can't see it reducing down that much.<br />
<br />
Eventually I'll have to size this thing up to make <i><b>3 gallons of soup!!</b></i> That's what I was asked for, and that's what I want to deliver.<br />
<br />
I have come to the conclusion that the only way I can work this out is to make one batch of the soup from the recipe and then measure it. After that is will be a simple matter of multiplying everything up. And no, I don't plan on making all three gallons at once, but will make three one gallon batches. It'll just keep things simpler that way. But I still need to know how many ingredients to buy.<br />
<br />
And as mentioned before, I only have four days...<br />
<br />
ADDENDUM:<br />
<br />
I made the recipe at a party and it came out almost perfect and produced a little over a quart of soup. I am going to add some sweet potatoes because the soup wasn't as thick as I would have liked. I've got a kitchen lined up (mine is a little small) and now all I have to do is buy the ingredients and get cookin'!Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-47550483367277007102010-08-23T13:17:00.000-05:002010-08-23T13:17:58.201-05:00CharactersSt. Cloud has its characters, every town does. I wanted to blog about a couple of guys I saw this week. I'll start with the second guy because it was a very sad thing.<br />
<br />
I was dropping off some equipment at the Pioneer Place on Fifth early on Sunday afternoon and saw a guy rummaging through one of the recycling bins in the alley way behind the Raddison and DB Searle's. He was carefully checking each unbroken bottle, swirling the contents around ... and then drinking them. What a sad thing to see.<br />
<br />
The story of the other guy is one I have told many people already.<br />
<br />
Kate & I were having coffee on my porch on Friday afternoon when we spied a young black man somewhere in his early 20s walking down the street next to my house, he was wearing the modern fashion: baggy pants with underwear sticking a good 4 inches out of the top of his pants. He didn't seem to be in any hurry, he was just sauntering along. He obviously didn't know we were there because he slowed down and started looking down into his pants. He seemed pretty intent on whatever was down there and he suddenly reaches in and with an audible "sploop" he pulls a condom off his pecker, drops it casually on the ground and continues on his way.<br />
<br />
I would really love to know the back story there. Did he just have a fully clothed quicky? Why would he keep that thing on? Was he with a mistress when her boyfriend just came home? Why wasn't he hurrying? Why would anyone want to keep one of those things on while walking around in public? It's a mystery that will remain unsolved, I'm afraid.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-49238593103256138222010-08-08T20:57:00.002-05:002010-08-10T13:43:38.374-05:00A Debate: Natural Selection v. Intelligent Design<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1imAfzTGgeVL-SHCoLE8MjQSVPkTPDrLYagVrJwdUpoPyTnpAo0DT_jJiFXKOa44OUdAy6t_uOUQGnuaF6TcZSs_N6j8acFxT-L_mXVArb3NrfK3wAOA8JWrZB20ZsdV84vZZb83_Kg/s1600/intelligent-design-funny-cartoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1imAfzTGgeVL-SHCoLE8MjQSVPkTPDrLYagVrJwdUpoPyTnpAo0DT_jJiFXKOa44OUdAy6t_uOUQGnuaF6TcZSs_N6j8acFxT-L_mXVArb3NrfK3wAOA8JWrZB20ZsdV84vZZb83_Kg/s320/intelligent-design-funny-cartoon.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<b style="color: red;">NOTE: THE FOLLOWING IS PRESENTED FOR PERSONAL ARCHIVAL PURPOSES ONLY. IT IS NOT HERE TO CONTINUE THE DEBATE. THIS POST IS NOT OPEN TO COMMENTS. THANK YOU.</b><br />
<br />
The following is a debate between a dear friend of mine who lives in Texas and I regarding Natural Selection vs. Intelligent Design. He is of the opinion that the concept of Intelligent Design should be taught as an "alternative theory" to the evolution of species. I think that Intelligent Design, or ID, belongs in the philosophy classroom if it belongs anywhere. The following is a little debate we (and some others) had online, and I wanted to save it in my blog before it gets lost into the constantly changing pile of useless data that is <a href="http://www.facebook.com/">Facebook</a>.<br />
<br />
I need to acknowledge a couple of websites that helped immensely in forming my arguments: The <a href="http://www.theskepticsguide.org/">Skeptic's Guide to the Universe</a> and <a href="http://rationalwiki.org/">Rational Wiki</a> (which is rather snarky, but full of valuable information).<br />
<br />
He says:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>I can't force anyone to believe in or love God any more than I can tell them how to love their own wife. But I will tell you this, there is more evidence for intelligent design than there is for the vertical transition of any species within the theory of evolution.<br />
<br />
I'm sure you've heard the argument for the intelligent design of the eye within multiple species. It just can't happen within the odds of evolutionary chance. Monkey's banging on typewriters. Those kinds of odds. But if that is easier to swallow, I understand. Been there.<br />
<br />
Anyway, any decent classroom will teach you the pros and cons of both, of which we do, in Texas.<br />
<br />
Pure Liberalism is a failure. Pure Capitalism is a failure. Why? Because greed and power will corrupt them both, and there are but mere men at the helm of either. I just refuse to follow mere men.</blockquote><br />
I reply:<br />
<br />
But ID isn't science, not by any stretch of the imagination. All the so-called "evidence" presented by the IDers ...is not evidence at all, but an argument called False Dichotomy: I can't explain it, so it must have been God. It relies on only two possibilities and that's not science.<br />
<br />
Take the game of Bridge, any hand of 13 cards dealt comes to you with the odds of less than 600 billion to one. Bringing the ID argument to the card table would state that "since the likelihood of being dealt any hand is less than 600 billion to one, my hand must have been created by a supernatural force." That's an Argument from Personal Incredulity (I cannot explain or understand this, therefore it cannot be true), but it's not science.<br />
<br />
Science is rooted in the physical world, we observe, we report, we test, we repeat. ID is rooted in the supernatural and has one argument, "I believe it, so it must be true" -- another logical fallacy called Ad ignorantiam and that's not science.<br />
<br />
The main problem with ID is that its believers start with the premise that God exists and they will not waver from that stance regardless of the mountains of actual scientific evidence presented to them. Scientific theories change if the evidence points in a different direction, ID is stagnant and forever unchanging. It starts with a gigantic assumption that it will not dismiss and that's not science.<br />
<br />
Finally, the burden of positive proof falls on the person making the statement. Evolution does this by offering scientific evidence gathered by thousands of people. ID makes a very bold statement with no actual evidence to back it up, but instead relies on a string of logical fallacies. That's not science.<br />
<br />
ID fails every scientific test, it is based on beliefs and nothing else. If ID must be in schools, it should be placed in the Philosophy classroom and not the science classroom.<br />
<br />
I am all for alternate SCIENTIFIC theories being presented in a science class. ID isn't science, it's religion.<br />
<br />
A friend of his says:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Muggsy, may I suggest you read John Polkinghorn, Professor of Mathematical Physics at Cambridge University, regarding the science of intelligent design.</blockquote><br />
I reply:<br />
<br />
I have. It's philosophy, not science regardless of his credentials. See my statement about the burden of positive proof, Polkinghorn offers none and falls into some of the same logical fallacies as I mentioned.<br />
<br />
Look, I am not saying "don't ...believe in a God creature." If that's what gives you peace and fulfillment then have at it. But don't go putting your non-scientific creation myth into the science classroom. It doesn't even fit the definition of "science" and the only way to make it do so is by redefining the word. That's called moving the goalposts.<br />
<br />
He says:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Intelligent Design should remain in the science classrooms, and here’s why.<br />
<br />
Let’s say you’ve never met my wife, which is true, and I bring to you a plate of muffins. You eat a few of them and comment on how great they taste. I say “Thanks.” and then offer you a challenge. My challenge is this, by using science and these muffins, prove to me that Mandy exists.<br />
<br />
You will be able to call in anybody from all the realms of the physical sciences, such as forensics, microbiology, molecular biology, chemistry, you name it. You can run all the tests for as long as you wanted, but all of your evidence must conclude that she exists. Sounds easy. They are only muffins.<br />
<br />
But my wife is amazing with her baking. Everything is from scratch. She buys nothing from stores that you could trace, she’s imported some of the ingredients from the most remote places around the world. Every detail is purposely determined. She has even grown her own wheat for the flour and grinds it from a stone found only in the Lhagba Pool, the berries are from Floreana in the Galapagos.<br />
<br />
She leaves no physical DNA on them, her kitchen is spotless, a clean room as it were. And she takes careful care to keep everything pure. Every detail is about her muffins, and their passionate perfection.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Finally, after many tests and tons of research, you realize that you cannot discover the answer to my question. So all of your evidence can only conclude, actually force you to conclude that she must not exist. The muffins just are.<br />
<br />
Since your view of science can neither prove or disprove even a physical creator in this or any creation universal instance, you by no means have the authority to make the call if it should remain in a science classroom or not. If proof of evidence then becomes our task, I present to you the muffin itself. Or, in this instance, the universe itself.<br />
<br />
But you take the problem deeper by assuming the “ingredients” actually assembled themselves. Sounds foolish looking at a plate of simple muffins. Sounds even more-so looking at the 1.8 million named species that currently populate the earth. So let’s go way back to where the “ingredients” of the evolutionary theory originated from.<br />
<br />
I’ll start with the “scientific” conclusion that is accepted by those who only believe in that which can only be proven by science. Summated: “From out of nothing, everything came.” That itself a dichotomy of mythic proportions. I don’t think I can overstate the absurdity of this cornerstone to which it all resides. But maybe we can shake logic by adding in some numbers.<br />
<br />
So over 4.6 billion years ago, everything sprang from a hot dense mass that exploded. Agreed. (I am pretty much with you on big bang, and old earth) But where did the hot dense mass come from? Who made the muffins?<br />
<br />
But evolutionists don’t like to spend much time beyond the hot dense mass from nowhere, somewhere, that just was.<br />
<br />
What was the force compressing all of this? What was there 1,000,000,000 billion years ago? Mathematical infinity is a proven scientific fact. Why do evolutionists only want to deal with 4.6 billion of those years? How did the ingredients of the hot dense mass assemble?<br />
<br />
Within this hot dense compressed mass, which is under so much immense pressure – because it’s going to have the power to explode out into light years worth of space– is the impossibility of sustaining even a bacterial microbe. It is nothing but a geological dead mass. All of it is non-living matter.<br />
<br />
Kaboom! Then about 1.1 billion years later, spontaneous generation occurs. Though it’s not called that anymore because that theory has been proven wrong, but still, this is an important moment.<br />
<br />
A dense non-living mass that has exploded with Universal force has just spontaneously spawned, prokaryotes. But since “spontaneous” has been proven false, it’s replaced with “Abiogenesis” (which itself is just spontaneous generation wrapped in a theory within a theory within a new package) to cover for the unprovable. So who made the prokaryotes? Let’s just say they did just appear (which sounds like creation) from non-living matter, like the microbes they have found in glaciers. You’re just starting over with a new set of ingredients. Who made the muffins?<br />
<br />
Now, at this point an actual law of science has to be set aside. That pesky Second LAW of thermodynamics. (ie: things of a lower order cannot generate things of a higher order). Can a law be thwarted by single cell bacterial microbes? Shouldn’t we have perpetual energy by now if over-coming this law was possible?<br />
<br />
But let’s come back to the present for some physical evidence, since you insisted that from me.<br />
<br />
I’d like to see the actual mountains of evidence you are siting. I’m sure there is stuff I haven’t been exposed to. I’m assuming it’s ...the lab dish experiments where microbes are reported to be evolving. They are changing in the adaptive sense, not migrating to a higher order. Can we duplicate billions of years in the lab to see it through to our conclusion? It’s like an illogical stream. Like the beaks of the finches in the Galapagos.<br />
<br />
Within a species it’s adaptation, to a new species is evolution. To which again, I state the Second LAW of Thermodynamics. Order to chaos, not chaos to order.<br />
<br />
And how about the fossil record not having and evidence of the vertical transition of ANY species. Out of how many that have existed? (1.8 million + all the extinct ones) Darwin himself admitted that this was his weakest argument. But he “had faith” that the fossil record would bear him out. 150-some years later...still practicing faith. Sounds kind of religious.<br />
<br />
So if you want me to prove the existence of God to you by only using science, all I can say is “Who made the muffins.” You’ll never find Him within the ingredients He is using. But what he has created IS the evidence. And that is why the evolutionists want the question of His existence to remain within their control and end here. Where they know they won’t find Him.<br />
<br />
So if the burden of proof falls on me, I submit to you the trees, the ocean, this giant ever-expanding time-piece we live in, the vary microbes the evolutionists are trying to use to prove He doesn’t exist, and even you and our relationship. Oh, and the muffins.<br />
<br />
So why is ID in science classrooms? Because the evidence is the muffin. Since science can’t prove the existence of a physical Mandy, it doesn’t have the authority to say which theory should be disallowed. And us IDers are open to what science is learning, but not the agenda of the evolutionists. It’s blurring their objectivity...need I site the Global Warming e-mails? Tell me the truth. Don’t mix it with your agenda.<br />
<br />
My body is made up of many things, but it isn’t the true me. You could discover all the physical and biological things and make a scientific list of my chemical make up, where I came from, what I ate too much of, why I have blue eyes and such – my ingredients. But my family would say that wasn’t who I was. The real me cannot be discovered by science either, and I’m not supernatural. Nor am I Omnipotent. There’s the word. It’s easy to laugh at supernatural, it sounds like a magic show. Omnipotent, that’s what drives the evolutionists to not want to find Him anyway. The desire to be our own god is a powerful motivator. I can give you mountains of proof for that from the world, daily.<br />
<br />
To tell you the truth, I’d rather start with muffins as my evidence anyway, because it’s the simple observations that bear that question out. Variations on a theme prove there is a single designer present. Like eyes, flight, pollination, reproduction, energy, the cycle of life, relationships, love. Actually, variations on a theme can be used to identify any designer, or an artist, such as my self. It reveals our style. And I recognize His style.<br />
<br />
It’s like listening to a Muggsy deep and rich hollow body solo at Jazz Night through a warm retro amplifier. Without even seeing you play, I would recognize it was you by it’s tones, it’s similarities, it’s variations on theme, how you approach your scales, your passion, your art, your creativity. Expressing yourself, your love for music and the friends around you through the science of your guitar and sound. From just these few little things, I’d know it was you. Science is just the ingredients you used to express yourself.<br />
<br />
Or, I could make your music cold and lifeless by just describing the cycles of vibration and the effects of air temperature on a classic amp when heard by a tone deaf drummer. I’d rather talk about the Muggsy behind it all. That’s the guy I know. So, I know.<br />
<br />
About 10 years ago, a good friend of mine named Andy Hastings challenged me to name the 5 foundational facts of science. Of course, I didn’t know them off hand, so I had to look the up on the internet. Once I found them, I read aloud. “Time, Force, Action, Space, Matter.”<br />
<br />
Andy then opened his Bible to Genesis 1:1 and read aloud. “In the beginning, (Time) God (Force) created (Action) the Heavens (Space) and the Earth. (Matter). I sat there amazed. That has been there for 4000 years since Moses scribbled them down and as we believers say “inspired by God.” Scientist Herbert Spencer didn’t state this observation as science until 1867. Ahead of the curve, baby!<br />
<br />
Those words prove nothing scientifically unto themselves, other than that they are the opening words that have introduced million of people the Greatest Scientist of all. The one who shares that science with us, but also invites us to participate His passion, his solo as it were.<br />
<br />
Just a second...<br />
<br />
Mandy’s wondering why you never just read the journal she left on the table. It would have told you everything you wanted to know about her, and then you would have understood why she made the muffins.<br />
<br />
Oh, and your card analogy is lacking. You’ve stated a static. What you receive isn’t amazing odds, it’s if you would have called the exact hand you were going to receive 4.6 billion times in a row, as the deck was constantly changing and appeared from out of nowhere. At what point the impossibility?<br />
<br />
But if you’re willing to bet, I’ll take it. Easy money.</blockquote><br />
I reply:<br />
<br />
Your examples are flawed in every case. We KNOW that muffins, jazz solos and the rest are all created by human hands (Mandy's first attempts at muffins, and certainly my first jazz solos, were probably failures). There is no argument on tha...t point. However, if we were presented with a muffin, but had never seen one before, we could take two roads to determining its origin: study, measure and experiment on it, or we could simply say, "Someone must have created it," but offer no actual proof.<br />
<br />
Your entire thought process revolves around one idea and one idea only: God exists. It is based solely on faith and nothing else. You can point to amazing thing after amazing thing and say, "look at the consistencies, look at the complexities! Nothing in the natural world can explain it, so it must have been God." Take God out of the equation and your claim crumbles like a building with no foundation and it cannot recover. That's not science.<br />
<br />
Science grows and changes. If a scientist finds something that changes or even destroys his theory, he will change his theory accordingly or come up with a new one altogether. ID doesn't do that, it states, in essence, "I believe it, therefore it is true." (Ad ignorantiam.) They examine everything through that lens, ignoring any other possible explanation or theory, and state their opinion as "truth." That kind of thinking doesn't belong in the science classroom, but in the philosophy classroom instead. ID is a crutch, it is a shortcut through the scientific method to an unknown and unprovable conclusion.<br />
<br />
If I could prove to you that God doesn't exist (a logical fallacy, I know, because you can't prove a negative, but let's just go with it for the sake of argument), would that change your opinion about ID? Or would you conclude, through nothing but your faith, that my conclusion was wrong somehow and go on believing?<br />
<br />
On the other hand, if you could prove to me that there is a God and that it created everything, I would accept that, and so would every scientist on earth. Until then it is based on nothing but faith with no actual physical, repeatable evidence to back up such a fanciful claim. The Bible is not a scientific source, it is a book full of parables, teaching lessons and philosophy and ID is nothing but a backhanded way of getting the Judeo-Christian creation myth presented in the science classroom. Any other non-Adam and Eve ideas are rejected without consideration.<br />
<br />
Try telling an IDer the following story, "God created the first person out of clay and baked him in an oven, the first one stayed in too long and came out dark and that's where black people came from. He tried again, but didn't bake it long enough, and that's where white people came from. On his third try he baked it the perfect amount of time, and that's where brown people came from." Your average IDer would foam at the mouth at the mere suggestion, but it offers exactly the same scientific proof -- none -- as their own idea. Yet it is a creation myth from a different (non-Christian) culture, equal in every way to ID.<br />
<br />
So if we used the scientific method and were able to prove beyond a doubt that someone (maybe not Mandy specifically, but someone or something) must have created the muffin, we, as scientists, would accept that conclusion. The IDer would say, "I knew that all along," but they'd be wrong. They didn't KNOW anything, they just guessed right. Until that day ID is nothing but a guess with nothing to back it up. Nothing.<br />
<br />
In short: faith ≠ science.<br />
<br />
His friend chimes in again:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Your premise underscores that everything scientific can be proven, or it is not science. Your premise is incorrect; therefore, your argument that follows is in error. The "science" of Intelligent Design has been deduced using the properties of physics. Whether or not the Intelligent Designer is God is another matter entirely. The faith component comes into play with the belief that the intelligent designer is the God of the Bible.</blockquote><br />
I reply to her:<br />
<br />
With all due respect, you don't know what you're talking about. Science is based on natural, observable phenomena. Nothing about ID has ever been "proven" because you can't prove your biggest statement: God exists. You want to argu...e the mathematical probability of a God? Fine, I'll grant you that, but then you have to grant me the possibility of 100 gods, or a thousand. All are equally likely using only mathematical probability. But when it comes to measurable, repeatable results ID hasn't got a leg to stand on. Sorry, but that IS science.<br />
<br />
He posts:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Alright Muggsy, I got your argument the first time. Now defend your position.<br />
<br />
1. From out of nothing. Everything sprang.<br />
...2. Abiogenesis. (Non-living matter spawns living matter)<br />
3. A LAW of science has to be ignored. Explain how this happens in reference to 1 and 2. PLUS. Why would "Scientists" ignore a law to hold onto a theory?<br />
4. No Physical evidence. Explain the lack of physical evidence if we are to only remain in the seen physical world.<br />
<br />
If you cannot PROVE all of this, beyond a theory, then, on your premise, evolution must be taken out of the science classroom as well. Evolution crumbles.<br />
<br />
Physics tell us that waves carry energy, but not mass. Until instruments of measurement are invented for such waves. (ie: something as common as gravitational waves). Could it not be said that we just haven't discovered the instrument that could detect a more complex living energy force?<br />
<br />
To Melinda's point. You need to stop looking at God from the perspective of a guy with a long beard and white robes. We find God in indisputable laws. But since you are arguing against a Law, the onus is on your viewpoint.</blockquote><br />
And I make my final point:<br />
<br />
1. You want to talk origin of the universe or evolution? When we're talking origin we're on almost equal footing -- neither of us knows for sure, but at least science has natural, measurable, observable data on its side. ID has is a belief... system: "God did it," but can offer no proof whatsoever. Something out of nothing? Are you telling me you're not making that argument, too?<br />
<br />
2. Understand that the Theory of Evolution is not concerned with the origins of life, but how it has grown, changed and evolved.<br />
<br />
3. Your "2nd Law of Thermodynamics" argument is only true in a closed system. The Earth is not a closed system, so no "laws" have been broken.<br />
<br />
4. No physical evidence of evolution? Excuse me, but you don't know what you're talking about. There are mountains of evidence supporting the theory. In addition, evolution was directly observed in the laboratory by Dr. Richard Lenski in 2008 (as part of a 20-year long experiment involving E. Coli bacteria).<br />
<br />
The basic argument here is this: Should ID be taught along side of Natural Selection in the science classroom? And to that end one question must be asked: Is ID science?<br />
<br />
The answer is no. ID begins with an explanation that it is unwilling to alter — that supernatural forces have shaped biological or Earth systems — rejecting the basic requirements of science that hypotheses must be restricted to testable natural explanations. Its beliefs cannot be tested, modified, or rejected by scientific means and thus cannot be a part of the processes of science.<br />
<br />
Instead ID also relies on a string of logical fallacies from false analogy (nothing so complex could have evolved by chance, so it must have been designed), ad hoc arguments (it begins with a made up premise), false dichotomy (either Natural Selection is true, or ID is true, there is no middle ground), negative proof (you can't prove it's NOT God), appeal to ignorance (it can't be proved false, so it must be true), argument from authority (Dr. Polkinghorne says it's true, so it must be true), begging the question ("proof" based on an unsound premise), and cherry-picking (accepting data that proves its hypothesis while rejecting that which does not), all the way up to ad hominem attacks (You know, Hitler believed in evolution!!).<br />
<br />
Natural Selection, on the other hand, adheres to all the rules of science. It is based on natural, observable phenomena, it has been subjected to peer review for the past 200+ years and has changed from its modest beginnings as new data has become available and other data has proved false. Its claims are verifiable and can be replicated. And there is overwhelming evidence -- and even direct observation -- that supports it.<br />
<br />
Simply put, ID is not science and has no place in a public school's science classroom.<br />
<br />
It is obvious to me that I am not going to change your mind, so I am going to stop here. I have made my case based on what science is actually all about. You "grew up" and accepted a non-scientific idea as something true. I think that your understanding of what science is, how it works and many of its concepts is lacking. And I strongly disagree with you about teaching ID in science class.<br />
<br />
That being said, I still have a kidney, half a liver and a bunch of bone marrow for you if you need it.Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-85772398055296390682010-06-29T00:14:00.001-05:002010-07-01T10:08:17.421-05:00What I Did On My Summer Vacation - 2010<span style="font-size: small;">BWCA</span> <br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me & Kate</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">DAY ONE - June 24th, 2010</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Getting to Ely was the easy part. Even getting the canoe into the water was fairly easy (180 r.) compared to what was to come.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Wood Lake has five campsites, all of which were occupied. In an attempt to get us to the portage to Hula Lake I got us turned around and we wound up in the most northeasterly point of the lake, rather than the most northwesterly point. That wasted a good hour or two.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">The seemingly simple 40 r. portage into Hula Lake was complicated by a sudden and rather intense cloudburst that soaked us to the bone.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">There are no campsites on Hula, so we headed north to Good Lake in hopes of finding one of the two sites there. We were running out of daylight, we’d run out of fresh water and the second half of the portage (150 r.) turned out to consist mostly of ankle to shin deep mud puddles. It was the worst portage I’ve ever done to date and Kate and I were literally in tears at points.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">We were very fortunate to find one of the campsites open or we would have been screwed. The next lake, Indiana, is another 100 r. portage, has only two campsites and there was no guarantee they’d be open.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">There was an osprey waiting on the shore at the campsite, I’d like to take that as a good omen.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">We set up camp and proceeded, the two of us, to experience a kind of catharsis. I cried again and had to pull a small leech off my toe. We were so exhausted we couldn’t even eat, which was fine because the fucking camp stove wouldn’t pressurize and was unusable. We’re going to have to cook over open flame now, and fires will be tough to build due to the rain.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzaLvVnFqn3VqAHCZVMy9GlwA_97fXFUmvLduk0GuXB1FfZpvBn6k2XcxwpKagOAbqbiPi0VGjaCAi07YXx8FKsJK5xG1KOWqI4PoLC3Swyt3rhzQXQWmyAtf34v5skYYsoa5jnd29A/s1600/HPIM1151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzaLvVnFqn3VqAHCZVMy9GlwA_97fXFUmvLduk0GuXB1FfZpvBn6k2XcxwpKagOAbqbiPi0VGjaCAi07YXx8FKsJK5xG1KOWqI4PoLC3Swyt3rhzQXQWmyAtf34v5skYYsoa5jnd29A/s320/HPIM1151.JPG" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">DAY TWO - June 25th</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">I got up early enough to wander around the area, gather some wood and build a small fire to boil some water to brew coffee -- there are some things I refuse to do without. Kate got up and by the time we ate a little dried fruit and an oatmeal bar to make up for last night’s lack of food, it started to rain; a light, steady rain, the type that would end a picnic.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">The idea of breaking down camp, repacking everything and, worst of all, portaging in the rain seemed a little overwhelming considering yesterday’s slog through Hell. It was on both our minds, but I suggested it first, “Let’s stay here today.”</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5yqio8cmAU4rrUTh7tr012-wTO8Q8sZBiknzV2S3jIWwBhpE0DLCtfYXVFY7iMT_65i9NQqXvobRJvMm40OORg1D1qn8qq-Xr2pLNEH5OCF2P-rvt_GJSh42iFuaajj9KtoCYhVisg/s1600/HPIM1165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5yqio8cmAU4rrUTh7tr012-wTO8Q8sZBiknzV2S3jIWwBhpE0DLCtfYXVFY7iMT_65i9NQqXvobRJvMm40OORg1D1qn8qq-Xr2pLNEH5OCF2P-rvt_GJSh42iFuaajj9KtoCYhVisg/s320/HPIM1165.JPG" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">The original plan was to portage over to Indiana Lake and see if we could nab one of the two campsites there. One of them is a five-star campsite, we heard tell, and we were anxious to see it. But I’m fine with staying here today, hanging out in the tent and relaxing. A few games of cribbage and a glass or two of wine sounds much better than slogging through the rain and mud.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">LATER</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">And a good day it’s been, all things considered. We laid around in the tent, Kate read, I wrote, we played a game of cribbage (I beat her by a mere 11 points), eventually the rain let up and we were able to venture around the area.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8eek0lY8KU3LTYgAy9RXbojgWOvuD3f1IQyvyTE1Uu5EsO-qJECP98exVDjAD96PoH7K6hQCDeSPVJ0ffPSV4nM0WEMvQXgIKU-va_bx6unZq5_5RUBEVVOfs4kkr9fqD-uVuhcZy0w/s1600/HPIM1129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8eek0lY8KU3LTYgAy9RXbojgWOvuD3f1IQyvyTE1Uu5EsO-qJECP98exVDjAD96PoH7K6hQCDeSPVJ0ffPSV4nM0WEMvQXgIKU-va_bx6unZq5_5RUBEVVOfs4kkr9fqD-uVuhcZy0w/s320/HPIM1129.jpg" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">There wasn’t a lot of wood available to build a fire, but we managed to find enough, supplemented by an ample supply of birch bark.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">It seemed to take forever to cook some red beans and rice (with some sliced up leftover brats that we’d grilled last week added), mostly due to the fact that we couldn’t keep a consistent flame under it.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">A light rain came and went, and came and went but it wasn’t as heavy as it was in the morning.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">After we ate we took the canoe out and explored the lake a little and the hiked the portage to Indiana to see what we’re in for tomorrow, if it doesn’t rain too much.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">If all goes according to plan we’ll get the five-star site, stay the night and take a creek back to Hula Lake, thus avoiding the Hell Slog. Then it’s just a simple 40 r. portage back to Wood Lake. Hopefully we’ll be able to find a campsite there and then we’ll come out Monday, a day earlier than we’d originally planned. Frankly, the sound of Chinese delivery and lounging on the couch sounds pretty good right now.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">THE SUN! BLUE SKY!!</span></div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGPwwbJLj2ms_C3sefvtbK6CNvnPWimigwhth0EHTlOtmqfsFv9cHAto2gCyxVZfWm3M5Ls3jB1_PjvFkcZlOLwjzKbXe3shTyArPkXYI19FBW-ynHTgD4Ko0n1vvxbEJ1gX0tsLfdlg/s1600/HPIM1174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGPwwbJLj2ms_C3sefvtbK6CNvnPWimigwhth0EHTlOtmqfsFv9cHAto2gCyxVZfWm3M5Ls3jB1_PjvFkcZlOLwjzKbXe3shTyArPkXYI19FBW-ynHTgD4Ko0n1vvxbEJ1gX0tsLfdlg/s320/HPIM1174.JPG" /></a></div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">I didn’t think we’d see ‘em! And what a beautiful sight to behold! It’s like an instant battery recharge! Despite the fact that on this dull, dreary, grey, cloudy day, and me thinking that it would probably get dark at any moment, we estimate that it’s actually only about 4:00.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq90P1SwES-VKjL6EV4czJS2GwmhomobapQgTAI5gKJyFP25LuDhpnZAe-nvOblnxszbqsGZSOP83c2qXQRoCb_w8qo13ts7c77fCZmQ1VrBLz3ESZoo4J9fU8hpeyLXQiBWdPIjW1Aw/s1600/HPIM1170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq90P1SwES-VKjL6EV4czJS2GwmhomobapQgTAI5gKJyFP25LuDhpnZAe-nvOblnxszbqsGZSOP83c2qXQRoCb_w8qo13ts7c77fCZmQ1VrBLz3ESZoo4J9fU8hpeyLXQiBWdPIjW1Aw/s320/HPIM1170.JPG" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">I’d like to think that maybe Fate drove us forward yesterday (seems like it was days ago) to this site. It’s not the greatest campsite, it’s well used, there are nails driven into many of the trees and we even found a trio of fishing lures stuck into the trunk of one of the birches near the water (they didn’t look like casting errors, they looked like they were placed there on purpose), and some fuckhead named “Waldo” decided it would be cool to carve his name into one of the bench/logs that all the campsites seem to have.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgll7x-l5e82138QA1_EoS2jDOMmunH-N5rOnnsRcwGzNPz_JVXoJh7MRm4Is0o_OvrySBrPYxkFAKFgBwFY8ZGV9w76LnpBFoSsNWSDdmqDKdundzd13nL2egG_dR_QW1_Og_0yvnw/s1600/HPIM1172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgll7x-l5e82138QA1_EoS2jDOMmunH-N5rOnnsRcwGzNPz_JVXoJh7MRm4Is0o_OvrySBrPYxkFAKFgBwFY8ZGV9w76LnpBFoSsNWSDdmqDKdundzd13nL2egG_dR_QW1_Og_0yvnw/s320/HPIM1172.JPG" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">The landing is wide and shallow and is covered mostly by pea-sized gravel. On a hot summer day it would be a great place to swim! The campsite itself is surround by very dense birch and pine.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">I’ve had a great time today watching some crayfish crawl around the rocks next to the landing and as I write this a pair of loons are fishing not 50 yards away from me. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>This</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> is why we come to the BWCA. It’s quiet here. There are no traffic sounds, no “boom cars,” no jets overhead. Kate let out a “Whoop!” when the sun came out before that echoed across the lake and into the surrounding woods and hills! The time right now is why I like to come here. It’s worth the Hell Slog.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7aw34EjRuU_sw7H_-5lpfAngCc-PQPrAp0K6KGgwEJwKh7PI-DEhbnn8SzGucO1uH9JBrxfJySjxExqaMGnT_A0oea3S7Z1qtjHzrWS_71HBNOL5y6btBH4chrlKDlrPNORgivdgwg/s1600/HPIM1147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7aw34EjRuU_sw7H_-5lpfAngCc-PQPrAp0K6KGgwEJwKh7PI-DEhbnn8SzGucO1uH9JBrxfJySjxExqaMGnT_A0oea3S7Z1qtjHzrWS_71HBNOL5y6btBH4chrlKDlrPNORgivdgwg/s320/HPIM1147.JPG" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">DAY THREE - June 26th</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">The full moon put be to bed last night and a calm, blue day greeted me when I crawled out of the tent this morning. Today’s plan: portage to Indiana Lake (100 r.) and get the five-star campsite.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">LATER</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">The portage was a little tricky, but not really bad. We split the canoe duty because we’re both pretty sore. We realized on the far end that we’d left one of our paddles behind, Kate must have sprinted the distance because it felt like I’d been sitting there for only a few minutes when she got back.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">As I sat there I scanned the far shore to see if I could spot the five-star and my eyes kept falling on this single pine standing there, dead but perfectly intact, its bright red needles standing out in stark contrast to all the lush green around it. Kate arrived with the truant paddle and we made our way around the lake to where we figure the five-star was.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Wouldn’t you know it? A family was already set up there! CRAP! The next site was just a little farther on and that is where we are now. I have to say, if that other site is a five-star this one is certainly a four!</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">A large, solid rock face juts out of the water to a terraced, pine studded site. It’s very open and the southerly breeze we are getting today is blowing through the campsite giving us an opportunity to air out all of our damp gear.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">We made some coffee -- the previous tenants left a generous supply of kindling and small firewood -- and we came down to the water to survey the “beach.” I waded in a short way, when I turned around I was surprised to see that lone red pine I’d been admiring from across the lake earlier! </span> </div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">I hereby dub this campsite “The Red Pine Inn.”</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWYFd6e289C6zqyKbNwwaY-Hy2LYCuCTsI_C1p4LtXooArPXKBCZ0PGLaVpu2HRzPlSC6qJ76Qf5ENyogehUcxYzu1q-FPrgQ4nHG737s0NNMKYM9gUD_PgJkpG_bfDk3OFgOIUkU75g/s1600/Red_Pine_Inn.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWYFd6e289C6zqyKbNwwaY-Hy2LYCuCTsI_C1p4LtXooArPXKBCZ0PGLaVpu2HRzPlSC6qJ76Qf5ENyogehUcxYzu1q-FPrgQ4nHG737s0NNMKYM9gUD_PgJkpG_bfDk3OFgOIUkU75g/s320/Red_Pine_Inn.png" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">LATER</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is the kind of weather you dream about when you’re planning your trip to the BWCA! It’s been warm, breezy, sunny ... perfect.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">We went exploring around earlier and found the portage to Basswood Lake. Talk about a toughie!! We were really glad we were only hiking it and not carrying all our gear. It’s only 90 r. but it goes up, up, up, up, up and then down, down, down, down, down. The view on the far end, though, is spectacular!</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Basswood is one of the biggest, if not <i>the</i> biggest lake in the BWCA. On a calm day like today paddling across it would take quite a bit of time. Crossing it on a rough day would be terrifying!</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">So today is Full Relaxation Day. The hammock is up, we mixed a cocktail <i>(yes, we brought both wine (boxed wine </i></span><i><span style="font-size: small;">sans</span></i><span style="font-size: small;"><i> the box) and vodka (in a Nalgene bottle) -- and more than each of us could possibly drink in the time we’re spending up here, but I figure alcohol is like T.P., you’d rather pack some out with you than run out while you’re here)</i>, and we’re lounging.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhzqbJ1Jhf1kfTRnwFyiM5Bim02Qvq7Iy64lhWv1F577-y1z6mxv4V2cP2a6J6tJpKvhkmL6DSj5PUYVKR34ietxE_KePtg8U2KgiyJ7XtDCSwguYB86uEDqHRgUiD1FPCoxEoRKmmQ/s1600/HPIM1186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhzqbJ1Jhf1kfTRnwFyiM5Bim02Qvq7Iy64lhWv1F577-y1z6mxv4V2cP2a6J6tJpKvhkmL6DSj5PUYVKR34ietxE_KePtg8U2KgiyJ7XtDCSwguYB86uEDqHRgUiD1FPCoxEoRKmmQ/s320/HPIM1186.JPG" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">We took a nice swim before our hike and I must've spent a half an hour lounging around the campsite naked. As mentioned before, </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>this</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> is why we come to the BWCA. </span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJCKnCZoh3JKuPVbJz3mJfPO28LANPlpS33BtLRR_2fPez0TDDmX7YF_aJjdoTJq43GWuc3Bkerjn-wpYe_DY6-gEYH2j2titaeuhoc0a-JKICd-j7F7H0chWob5wSoBZ8P8YoqD8tg/s1600/HPIM1196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJCKnCZoh3JKuPVbJz3mJfPO28LANPlpS33BtLRR_2fPez0TDDmX7YF_aJjdoTJq43GWuc3Bkerjn-wpYe_DY6-gEYH2j2titaeuhoc0a-JKICd-j7F7H0chWob5wSoBZ8P8YoqD8tg/s320/HPIM1196.JPG" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">But all is not total relaxation, one must always keep an eye skyward watching the weather. </span><span style="font-size: small;">We could get rained on tonight, some clouds are moving in, but I'm determined to have a nice fire before it does. And I really would love it if we could see the moon again tonight.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">LATER</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">I took a nap in the afternoon and had a kind of revelation about the camp stove, so I decided to give it another try. I don't think my revelation is what did it, but suddenly the tank started to pressurize! It's amazing what a small victory like that can do for morale! I did a victory lap around the campsite.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5otLkfkGBSt14h5UA6RHYf7RXMkUmUQ7UDYRIRCEaGG-a6LzmaB0pwe4Pkvn1Z-u7fE_rJdzZ260N98HQ8haSLsJmCQGTKLW6VIfSEAeN0FpDDB3BdYJe-p0jggqw-70nyAIDOV_AuQ/s1600/HPIM1143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5otLkfkGBSt14h5UA6RHYf7RXMkUmUQ7UDYRIRCEaGG-a6LzmaB0pwe4Pkvn1Z-u7fE_rJdzZ260N98HQ8haSLsJmCQGTKLW6VIfSEAeN0FpDDB3BdYJe-p0jggqw-70nyAIDOV_AuQ/s320/HPIM1143.JPG" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">We cooked dinner, which took far less time with a functioning camp stove, ate it on the shore and then settled around the campfire until we were just too tired to stay awake.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Day three is by far the best day I've had on this trip, in fact I'd say it was one of the best days I've ever had up here.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">DAY FOUR – JUNE 27th</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's another dull, grey day, but at least it's not raining … yet.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kate is very optimistic about our plan of taking the small stream between Indiana and Hula Lakes, but although I haven't mentioned it to her, I don't share her optimism. Yes, I would very much like that idea to work out, it would eliminate two portages, one of them the Hell Slog, but there are only about a million things that could go wrong: the flow could be too strong and we're going against it, it could be too shallow, it could be blocked by downed trees, etc., etc., and that would mean turning back and going the way we came. But the plan as it stands now is to traverse the stream to Hula, take the 40 r. portage to Wood Lake and hopefully find a campsite there. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">SLIGHTLY LATER</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kate's still asleep and now it's starting to rain. It's a light rain, but it's rain nonetheless. I'm really feeling some pre-moving dread.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">THE REST OF DAY FOUR AND THE END OF THE TRIP</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">If you asked me to pick a worse travel day, I think I'd still pick day one, but this one was very nasty. At least the weather was nice.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">There was a short, supposedly 15 r. portage to the stream, but I'm pretty sure it was longer than that and it went through swamp. Kate dropped the canoe twice because she sank up to her knee in what looked like mostly solid ground. I had the same thing happen to me while carrying the personal pack, I was helpless and pinned under its weight until she came and rescued me.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">The open part of the “stream” was hardly a canoe width across and was surrounded by swamp. Kate went up to her waist in muck and I went balls deep as we tried to push, pull and prod our way to where we hoped the water would open up enough for us to paddle again. But we wound up in an impassable area and, exhausted both physically and emotionally, we had to make our way back to Indiana Lake. Kate pulled several leeches off of her legs. We </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>both</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> hope we never have to spend another </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>second</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> in a swamp again.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">I don't know which was worse, finding that our ingenious plan was a waste of time, or knowing how much time it wasted, but we were faced with but one option: go back out the way we came in. So off we went across Indiana, 100 r. to Good Lake, the 150 r. Hell Slog (only slightly less hellish due to a couple of days with little rain), across Hula Lake, a 40 r. portage to Wood Lake and then a hunt for one of the five campsites there.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Going that distance was particularly tough on me, I think. Kate is so strong. At the end of the 40 r. portage I collapsed in a pile, emotionally wrecked, but knowing that we had to keep moving.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Of course, there were no sites available on Wood Lake. We could travel backwards again, back to Good Lake, but that would be ridiculous considering how hard we'd worked to get where we were and the emotional toll it had already taken, so we worked our way to the exit. On the way I got us turned around again and we took an un-wanted detour down Madden Creek. That was the last straw for me and now I just wanted to get the fuck out of the BWCA.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kate had suggested earlier that we stop and eat and I had ignored her thinking that we wanted to get to a campsite on Wood Lake first. Our only fight on the trip was as we neared the exit. We pulled a couple of Snack Packs out of the food pack and sucked them down like frat boys doing shots and portaged our way back to the car.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">We drove to Ely, found a brew pub and ate bacon mother-fucking cheese burgers and had a couple of beers. Our final night was spent at a $90 campsite with a king sized bed called the Paddle Inn. The lady at the desk said that a lot of her business lately has been from people who haven't been able to find a campsite in the BWCA. It's getting crowded up there these days due to the economy, so anyone reading this and planning a trip up there, consider yourself forewarned.</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">The BWCA is a place to experience a whole pallet of emotions, from the glee you feel when you first get there to the relief that you've made it back out. In between there's fear, joy, anger, elation, giddiness, determination, self-motivation and relaxation. You thank Mother Nature for making clear water, warm sun and beautiful trees and you curse her for making mud, leaches, mosquitoes and deer flies (and those little mother-fucking biting black flies!!). You test your limits and you know that no one can get you out of any situation you might have gotten yourself into but you, and when you get home you look at your tired, sore, sunburned, bug-bitten, scratched and bruised body and you feel </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>good.</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8PwSN1hiRaQWcXXqH0sw4l3n4UZGzXw4KxTdYsdj4WyneXOlh1qjNgWZKu49QjBA4qdOHzMztdiYvLsWBdzZYr0U2SKzILYXgMxb2IQnHrY8pmQQc1XlScahYlZNyOzbaNO9P3UB_A/s1600/HPIM1193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8PwSN1hiRaQWcXXqH0sw4l3n4UZGzXw4KxTdYsdj4WyneXOlh1qjNgWZKu49QjBA4qdOHzMztdiYvLsWBdzZYr0U2SKzILYXgMxb2IQnHrY8pmQQc1XlScahYlZNyOzbaNO9P3UB_A/s320/HPIM1193.JPG" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm glad we went, I discovered that I love Ms. Kate Scamp even more than ever and that we can work through difficult situations together, but next year I want a vacation where all we have to carry around is a towel.</span><br />
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</div>Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2151346372109208666.post-88377563750382577972010-04-19T10:32:00.004-05:002010-04-23T10:07:38.971-05:00Zombies!<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><div align="center"><img src="http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g235/spanier88/blog-stuff/Night-of-the-Living-Dead-1.jpg" style="max-width: 800px;" /><br />
<br />
<div align="left">Several years ago, when I lived on the south side of St. Cloud, my landlord, who lived downstairs from me, enlisted my help moving a china hutch that he had just purchased at an auction into his house. It was an old and unwieldy piece of furniture, it was heavy, but the two of us could move it without too much trouble.<br />
<br />
We wrestled the piece out of the moving truck he'd rented and were taking a short break in the front yard before we attempted to get it into the house when we were approached by a black man somewhere in his 40s who struck up a conversation with the two of us. It started out normally enough, the weather, the fact that the china hutch looked heavy and the like, and then it took a turn into the weird.<br />
<br />
The man started telling us about all the zombies in St. Cloud and how they were going to try to take over the world, and that he was apparently the only person around who knew.<br />
<br />
"They're envious of us," he said, "because we have life and they don't and they want it. They try to be just like us, but I know what they look like."<br />
<br />
Then he told us about his upstairs neighbor.<br />
<br />
"He's one. He stays up all night and sleeps during the day. I don't know where he gets all his money from, but it's got to be the same place that he gets all that pussy."<br />
<br />
He didn't seem agitated or frightened. I know <i>I</i> would be if zombies were out and about. He was very matter of fact about everything. In fact, the only thing that seemed to bother him was the fact that his upstairs zombie neighbor seemed to have a lot of spending cash. And a lot of girlfriends.<br />
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We shortened our break and found that a great work motivator is "getting away from the crazy guy" is, and had that hutch moved into the house in no time.<br />
<br />
That's almost 10 years ago now and I'm still waiting for the zombie apocalypse. <br />
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<div align="center"><img src="http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g235/spanier88/blog-stuff/zombie-cat.jpg" style="max-width: 800px;" /></div></div></div><br />
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<div class="scribefire-powered">Powered by <a href="http://www.scribefire.com/">ScribeFire</a>.</div></div>Muggsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10417425709677143042noreply@blogger.com0