this is effing hilarious!

closed pipeline

I found a really cool Random Word Generator while I was goofing around *ahem* doing some research, and I thought I'd use it to introduce a new series on i was thinking ...

I thought I'd call it Word Of The Day or something, but that seems so vanilla. Then I saw that my random word generator has a Random Phrase Generator, and I thought that might be fun.

So I'll pop in there every now and again and get a random phrase to write about. Sounds like fun, right?

This is a funny phrase since I work with pipelines. It makes me think of the Alaskan Pipeline, which is ludicrously long and prob'ly should be closed, but it's not.

The Trans-Alaskan Pipeline connects oil fields in northern Alaska with the port at Valdez (Yes, that Valdez). It cost $800,000,000,000 to build and 31 workers were killed during construction. It is 48 inches wide, 800 miles long and it has not stopped leaking since it was built.

That's just ridiculous.

A pipeline can carry many things, though, not just oil. Pipelines can carry water, gas, juice, sewage, chocolate milk, even information. In fact, I'm pretty sure the only requisite there is for being a pipeline is that something must be constructed of pipes. In a line.

A Haiku

Hard angles can be

soft when seen through iron eyes.

We cast out our nets.

What I was trying to say earlier was ...

So I started a blog about symmetry the other day and had to stop for some reason. I hadn't really finished it, so I didn't publish it, and it fell into the black hole of drafts that I'm storing here on Blogger. Earlier today I did finish it, but kinda took up the thread in a weird way. I think I was trying to finish my earlier thought, and ended up with this new thought, which is my reflection on why I've been so happy lately.

This next bit is what I think I was trying to say when I started finishing the blog from earlier. Does that make any sense?

(Most of the ellipses are places I've replaced or paraphrased the earlier text. I think I was meant to be an editor.)

... Maybe that's why I've been in such a good mood lately: something happened that reminded me the importance of living in the now, as Garth would put it. I found myself in a situation that never should have been and yet I came out on the other end a completely changed man. For the briefest of moments, I experienced a joy I'd forgotten was possible. I was totally in tune with myself and the world, and most importantly, with another person. It was a fleeting sensation, but when it was over I found myself completely content. I smiled for three days straight after that night and I couldn't tell you why, except that being in that situation was exactly where I wanted to be, and what's more, it was where I was meant to be.

... I've always felt in the back of my mind that somehow, wherever I was, I didn't fit. ... Now I really find myself content and unafraid of the future for the first time in my life. It's a strange feeling - like being young again - and it is wonderful.

I know this can't last. Eventually, I'll slip back into the old habits and thought patterns that eventually lead ... to despair, and that's okay, too. I'm not afraid of returning to my old self because now I know what it feels like to be truly happy.

Somehow, it seems like that's enough.

That last part didn't come across as powerfully as it felt when I wrote it, but that's not surprising. I do think the gist of the communication went across, though.

I don't know how to complete this thought, except to restate the obvious: I feel like I've been charmed. I feel like the world is hopping to my beat, for once; like my song is always playing, and I've always got the right moves. I feel like the lights are always going to be in my favor, and what's really weird is that I feel this even when I'm sitting in traffic.

It could be just the excitement of getting my first public performance under my belt, or bringing trivia across the street (although, I hafta say, I never would've done either of those things if I hadn't already been floating around on a cloud of euphoria fumes). It could be the elation of realizing that I finally feel like I have some modicum of control over my life (famous last words, right?), but I'd never even consider that as an option if I wasn't so stupidly happy these days.

I don't think I'd feel this strongly about it if it was just a case of the giggles (which I am prone to get). Lately I just feel like the laughs are coming easier and more often, and that the bright side is always a little easier to see.

I guess I feel like I'm doing something right, and this is my reward.

Riddle me this ...

I like riddles. They make you think in ways that people today seem to have forgotten, or at least lost the knack for.
Riddles used to be used as teaching tools, and the ability to solve a riddle was a gift to be admired and praised.
Riddles teach people to think around corners, and a well-constructed riddle can be as artistic and beautiful as any poem.
For example:

There is a thing that nothing is,
and yet it has a name.
It is sometimes tall and sometimes short,
it joins our talk and joins our sport
and plays at every game.

This is an older riddle that is one of my favorites because of its simplicity. There are thousands of riddles out there, maybe more. Some of them are easy, others are fiendishly difficult. Some are funny (What has four wheels and flies?) others are more than a little disturbing:

What's stronger than God and more evil than the Devil?
Dead people eat it always and live people who eat it die slow.

Today you can find riddles on every subject from English (What's the difference between a cat and a compound sentence?) to Mathematics:

What row of numbers comes next?
1
11
21
1211
111221
312211
13112221

The common thread in all riddles, though, is logic. Solving a riddle requires you to think a certain way - like tying a cherry stem in a knot requires you to make funny faces.
... Okay not exactly like that.

It's more like those "hidden picture" posters you see in doctor's offices where you have to stare into it and kind of relax your eyes and eventually a sailboat materializes. Once you see the sailboat, it's always there. It's kind of the same with riddles: once you relax your mind to the point that you can think around a corner to find the answer, it becomes much simpler.

The point of all this is that I want to get people thinking, and riddles are a good way to do that. I'm thinking of incorporating some riddles into Happy Hour Trivia (provided that catches on - the Hummingbird's trivia debut is tomorrow at 6, so swing by if you like trivia!).

So if you can think of a good way to work riddles into a trivia contest (or have suggestions on how to handle the whole trivia thing) then drop me a line here or via email (whcowart3@gmail.com) or on MySpace (http:www.myspace.com\wilcowartmusic).

If you're curious about the riddles I've included up there, I'll post the answers on Thursday. If you have a guess, leave a comment.

What the hell is GIS, anyway?

GIS stands for Geographic Information Systems (the "S" can also stand for "Sciences", which is more or less the same thing in a more snooty-sounding package). The short answer to the question "What is GIS?" is that GIS is the software that makes Google Maps work; the navigation system in you car is built on a GIS, and those cool interactive maps on CNN and the Weather Channel come directly from a GIS.

Specifically, GIS is a type of software that links database information with a geographic
representation of an area. In other words, it stores and
accesses data about an area (say, a simple table of addresses) and links that data directly to a map of the area in question.

GIS is built on a special type of database - known as a geodatabase. A geodatabase is literally an "Information System for Geography": a structured database that describes the world in geographic terms.

GIS is a series of intelligent maps and views that display things on the earth's surface, and more importantly, relationships between things on the earth's surface. A properly built map can give you a visual representation of the numbers in a table that help to bring that information into a more real-world context.

GIS is also a set of data transformation tools. These are processes that go into the geodatabase and do stuff: taking a set of information and deriving a totally new set of information that may help illuminate some not-so-obvious factors in the relationships between features in the map.

By combining data and applying some analytic rules, you can create a model that helps answer questions about geography. In the example below, GPS (Global Positioning System) and GIS were used to accurately model the expected location and distribution of debris for the Space Shuttle Columbia, which broke up upon re-entry over eastern Texas on February 1, 2003. Learn more about this project.

So, there you have it: the long-winded, technically grandiose version of what I do. If you want me to get more specific, it'll have to be in a different post, or in a message, or not at all.

Thanks for listening, and I hope you learned something.

A Haiku

A tall frosty glass
Many nights, my only friend
Crisp, golden beauty

Symmetry and Disparity

1x1=1
11x11=121
111x111=12321
1111x1111=1234321
11111x11111=123454321
111111x111111=12345654321
1111111x1111111=1234567654321
11111111x11111111=123456787654321
111111111x111111111=12345678987654321

Talk about symmetry, huh?

Symmetry is something that I don't tend to dwell on all that much, mostly because there seems to be so little of it around.

Think about the disparities in life: people rarely get what they pay for, and they almost never get what they deserve; the good ones are never rewarded, and the bad ones always seem to get away clean. What's right is never easy and what's easy is usually wrong.

The more we learn about the world the more we appreciate it, but then we realize that every move we make deforms the world in some way. Every act of exploration becomes an act of destruction (if not outright aggression) and our sad attempts at reparation invariably make things worse.

The smallest percentage of people on the planet are in possession of the vast majority of its resources. The continent that supports the largest population has the fewest options for feeding them all. The nation that produces the most food on the planet throws most of it away.

We are capable of acts of supreme goodness and beauty, and yet we can't seem to help falling into patterns of wanton violence and ignorance bordering on evil. Our capacity for love seems to be eclipsed by our capacity for hatred and intolerance. The line between truth and dishonesty has become so blurred that we'll settle for a maybe on almost any issue.

...

Amid all the discrepancies, though, there are symmetries - we must never forget that there are happy endings (they aren't as common as we'd like, but they are out there), there is still the occasional snippet good news.

Into every darkness some light must shine, and even the faintest glimmer of hope can be a beacon. The smallest shimmering star can shed light and lead us back into the light. I try to keep this in mind in my life and I don't want to sound sanctimonious, but I do try to lead by example. I don't lie (if I can help it), I'm rarely wasteful, I give freely of my time, my money, my blood and my music.

I instruct those who would take instruction by not being an obnoxious drunk, by not being an unsafe driver, by listening to other peoples' stories and laughing at their jokes (especially the lame ones - lame jokes are my favorite). I am polite, kind and thoughtful. I hold the door open for others; I say please and thank you.

I do all those things because that's how I was raised and because I've come to believe that those are good traits and because I really do think that my tiny little actions can somehow make a difference.

I fell into that old cliche about how God's plan truly does include each of us on a deep and personal level, and I really do want to believe it. My mind is inescapably drawn to the idea of serendipity, symmetry and eventuality that links all of us with all of our random, stupid actions.

I want to believe that somehow, from some mind-witheringly distant vantage point, looking back on everything we have will start to make some sense. I want to believe that with all of my heart, but I find myself falling just short of it.

I look around and see both symmetry and dissonance; I see truth, lies, beauty, hatred, love, kindness and neglect in unequal proportions, I suppose because my perspective makes everything seem a little canted. I've always wanted there to be a true middle road, a safe track for me to walk that wasn't too hard or too easy, that was neither dangerous, nor overly safe and the farther I go, the more it seems like there's no such thing. But, that's my perspective talking. From far enough away even the most winding path is straight. Heard at the correct frequency the monotonous ticking of the clock can be the most beautiful note ever uttered.

It all comes back to perspective: over a long enough time frame all the anger and hatred, and even the love and hope and desire all wash out into fading images held together by memory. From up close, we believe these are the only things in the world, and their absence or presence determines everything in our lives, yet with or without them, through maddening droughts and floods of emotion that threaten to sweep us off our very feet, we're still here. Our lives, pitifully short and disconnected from themselves, go on.

Maybe that's why I've been in such a good mood lately: something happened that reminded me the importance of living in the now, as Garth would put it. I found myself in a situation that never should have been and yet I came out on the other end a completely changed man. I had experienced a joy that I'd forgotten was possible for the briefest of moments, I was totally in tune with myself and the world, and most importantly, with another person. It was a fleeting sensation, but when it was over I found myself completely content. I smiled for three days straight after that night and I couldn't tell you why, except that being in that situation was exactly where I wanted to be, and what's more, it was where I was meant to be.

I've never felt so correct in a spatial sense (metaphysical or otherwise). I've always felt in the back of my mind that somehow, wherever I was, I didn't fit. No longer. Now I really find myself content and unafraid of the future for the first time in my life. It's a strange feeling, like being young again, and it is wonderful.

I know this can't last. eventually, I'll slip back into the old habits and thopught patterns that eventually lead us all into despair, or something close to it, and that's okay, too. I'm not afraid of returning to my old self because now I know what it feels like to be truly happy.

Somehow, it seems like that's enough.

My mom just got a camper. It's a tow-along type thing, but not collapsible, so it has a shower, a toilet, a stove and a fridge - all the essentials.

Now that she has it, she's all about going "camping", and it occurred to me that there are some fundamental differences in the way people think about camping.

When I think about camping, I think about a clearing in the woods that it took at least an hour or so to find. I think about calculating how much water you'll need for the length of time you want to stay gone, and about coordinating who's gonna carry the trash when you leave.

I think about securing the food against animals and drawing straws to see who carries the liquor bag. I think about catching dinner at least once per trip and then arguing about the best way to prepare "varmint", and I think that usually it's best to wrap it in tinfoil and bury it under the fire.

I think that if you can still hear the interstate, you haven't walked far enough.

I like the idea of bringing my guitar out there, but I'm not too thrilled about carrying it, my sleeping bag and the tent on a five mile stomp through the woods.

I like tents. I like the idea of a truly portable roof , but as cool as campers are there are just too many places I want to go that you can't really fit one ... They are cool though: I can't tell you how many lame trips I've been on that margaritas would've fixed right the hell up.

For me, the point of camping is to get away from all the things that everyone else seems to want to pack up and bring with them.

I love music. I mean I actually love it. I don't know if I could live without music, but I happen to make music as part of my excretory process, so I got lucky there.

But that's not to say that I have to have it wherever I go. Sometimes I think it's nice to just keep it down for awhile and let the world make its own music. It's hard to hear sometimes, but that music is there. I think we spend so much time surrounded by the cacophony of modern life that we forget what it's like to quiet for awhile. Hell, I know people who are uncomfortable with silence. I would feel bad for those people, but that's not really my thing. Really, I just can't comprehend what life would be like without music, so I tend to hear it everywhere I go whether it's playing or not, and that's how it is out in the world - there may not be a radio playing for miles around, but I promise there is always music.

I read recently that everyone has a song: a personal song that is theirs and theirs alone, and that it plays for them every moment of their life. Sometimes you can hear it like the band is right there in the car with you. Sometimes it's like listening to a radio underwater, but it's always there: the music of your life.

This music is different for everyone: some people live their lives to a constant marching tune with a brassy chorus and a snappy beat. Others have a more sedate theme: something soothing and calm, with long interludes that bring to mind the kind of landscapes that Enya was always going on about.

I think more often it's a combination: we are all capable of towering crescendos and low, slow litanies. At any given moment, we can be in the middle of a snappy chorus-line-type refrain and suddenly slip into a gritty, bluesy, nasty funk where even the major keys seem clash with your roots.

Sometimes you can't hear the tune at all. These are the times when I feel at my least prepared, least connected with the world. Without my song, I have no anchor, no basis from which to explore - and that's scary as hell, even for someone who would rather use a machete than a microwave.

A Haiku

Downstairs for a beer
Everyone was very kind
I miss the Red Eye

The Emperor of the United States

Joshua Abraham Norton was born around 1819 to a merchant family in England. They moved to South Africa in 1821, and upon his parents' death in 1849, Norton took his inheritance to San Francisco.

He promptly bankrupted himself trying to corner the rice market in Chinatown when his entire shipment was lost in a freak storm.

We lose track of Norton for about five years, but in 1859 he returned, issuing this proclamation to several major SF newspapers:

At the pre-emptory request of a large majority of the citizens of these United States, I Joshua Norton, formerly of Algoa Bay, Cape of Good Hope, and now for the last nine years and ten months past of San Fransisco, California, declare and proclaim myself the Emperor of These United States. - September 17, 1859

Emperor Norton continued to issue decrees throughout his reign and was soon a figure of some renown. He corresponded with the Queen Victoria and Abraham Lincoln and appointed Samuel Clemens (aka Mark Twain) the "Official Spinner of Tales and Teller of Stories ... for the duration of his mortal life".

His decrees cover topics from the absurd (he knighted his dogs, Lazarus and Bummer, and demanded they be allowed free entry into all SF eating establishments and theaters), to the strangely prophetic (In 1872 he decreed that a bridge be built to link San Fransisco and Oakland;
he disbanded both the Republican and Democratic parties in 1869; he proposed the formation of a "League of Nations" to meet in SF in order to quell dissent and misunderstanding between countries).

Norton was widely considered a madman and a fool, yet all San Francisco policemen saluted when he passed. He printed his own money, which was accepted in almost all SF restaurants. Stories are told of Norton singlehandedly disbanding an angry mob outside a Chinatown restaurant by reciting the Lord's Prayer until they left.

When Emperor Norton I died in 1880, it's estimated that 10,000 people came to pay their respects. His funeral cortege was over two miles long, and the day was marked by a total eclipse of the sun.

Trivia

The word "Trivia" is from the Latin for "three roads". It can also mean something trifling, useless or unimportant.

The story I heard says that at crossroads in Roman cities there would often be monuments built with inscriptions detailing local points of interest, directions and nearby attractions.

One could either read them or not, so they were considered unimportant ... trivial.

Another version states that people would often gather at crossroads to exchange news and gossip.

Either way, I miss playing trivia, so I put some up here on my blog. Good luck.