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Claire Temple, RN
A rare and oft-overlooked "Marvel Team-Up" comic from the early 70's. (Pen and ink with grey shading, 6.625" x 10.5")
Claire Temple, RN
A rare and oft-overlooked "Marvel Team-Up" comic from the early 70's. (Pen and ink with grey shading, 6.625" x 10.5")
Happy Birthday Henry. Acrylic on canvas, 16 in. x 20 in.
GETTING STUFF THE FUCK DONE: a Henry Rollins Motivational Approach
Originally posted at sizemore.co.uk
Step 1
Find a picture of Henry Rollins looking angry (this is very easy; see above painting)
Step 2
Print and cut out the picture of Henry Rollins looking angry.
Step 3
Keep the picture of Henry Rollins looking angry with you at all times.
And that’s it.
Henry is a guy who gets things the fuck done. He sings, he writes, he acts, he tours, he hosts TV shows, he goes to war zones, he lifts very heavy things... In fact he NEVER FUCKING STOPS. If there's ever a Romero-style undead uprising then the Rollins zombie will be easy to spot. He'll be the one making like a Zack Snyder deadite while the rest of us lumber around the wrong way on the escalators.
Every single second of every single day he gets things the fuck done. And he HATES people who don't.
GETTING STUFF THE FUCK DONE: a Henry Rollins Motivational Approach
Originally posted at sizemore.co.uk
Step 1
Find a picture of Henry Rollins looking angry (this is very easy; see above painting)
Step 2
Print and cut out the picture of Henry Rollins looking angry.
Step 3
Keep the picture of Henry Rollins looking angry with you at all times.
And that’s it.
Henry is a guy who gets things the fuck done. He sings, he writes, he acts, he tours, he hosts TV shows, he goes to war zones, he lifts very heavy things... In fact he NEVER FUCKING STOPS. If there's ever a Romero-style undead uprising then the Rollins zombie will be easy to spot. He'll be the one making like a Zack Snyder deadite while the rest of us lumber around the wrong way on the escalators.
Every single second of every single day he gets things the fuck done. And he HATES people who don't.
Happy Independence Day, my fellow renegades. Keep your powder dry and remember that this day is about challenging your government --not obeying it. If we as Americans ever lose that inherent tendency to subversion, then we've lost everything. Remember that as you light the fireworks.
I hope you enjoy my story.
I hope you enjoy my story.
I've got some damn good friends
Jul. 10th, 2013 10:45 pmWas really starting to slip into a funk there these past couple of months --I've been accumulating a sizeable pile of rejection slips and assorted other forms of "Thanks but no thanks" communications lately and the prospect of my 43rd birthday dawned with quite a bit of gloom alongside. Sustained grey skies and an apparently never-ending rain is also certainly a contributor to the bleak mood. But regular check-ins from closest friends and faraway friends and sorely-missed friends over the entire course of the day really did help.
The day finished out with my daughter making us a wonderful vegetarian quiche for dinner, then all of us sauntered out for ice cream and a bit of a whimsical run-around at Newbury Comics for some impulse-purchasing. At the tail end of the day there is mead.
The day finished out with my daughter making us a wonderful vegetarian quiche for dinner, then all of us sauntered out for ice cream and a bit of a whimsical run-around at Newbury Comics for some impulse-purchasing. At the tail end of the day there is mead.
That infuriates me...
May. 16th, 2013 11:48 amI support anywhere between 4 to 8 charities at any given time. As in, worthy organizations that legitimately help people in need, that get either my time or my money or both. And yet there's always someone who happens along that seems to think you're not being supportive enough of their particular cause, someone who chastises you for not "liking" their Facebook page or adding your name to a [fill-in-the-blank]-a-thon and won't hesitate to lay the guilt trip on you --in earshot of all your co-workers-- for obviously not "caring" enough.
Long story short: a particular local charity just lost all hope of ever receiving another dollar from me. This group is not an organization that in the least deserves to be snarled at, marginalized, or dismissed, but don't f**king try to emotionally blackmail me in public.
ADDENDUM: I've been trying to locate the interview --I wanna say it was in Playboy-- where Harrison Ford was asked what charities he supported. He said he wasn't going to list them, because as soon as the list saw print, there would be people upset about it: either because a) they were directly opposed to one of the charities, or b) they resent Ford supporting a particular cause because one of their causes was obviously so much more worthy of his time and money. I'm starting to think that the subject of a person's preferred charities should, socially speaking, be as much in the "none of your business" category as their personal finances, religious beliefs, or 99.9% of their politics.
Essentially, it's yet another variation on a truism originally driven home to me by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bronxelf_ag001; that you do not get to tell someone --anyone-- what their priorities ought to be, or what they should be caring about the most.
Long story short: a particular local charity just lost all hope of ever receiving another dollar from me. This group is not an organization that in the least deserves to be snarled at, marginalized, or dismissed, but don't f**king try to emotionally blackmail me in public.
ADDENDUM: I've been trying to locate the interview --I wanna say it was in Playboy-- where Harrison Ford was asked what charities he supported. He said he wasn't going to list them, because as soon as the list saw print, there would be people upset about it: either because a) they were directly opposed to one of the charities, or b) they resent Ford supporting a particular cause because one of their causes was obviously so much more worthy of his time and money. I'm starting to think that the subject of a person's preferred charities should, socially speaking, be as much in the "none of your business" category as their personal finances, religious beliefs, or 99.9% of their politics.
Essentially, it's yet another variation on a truism originally driven home to me by
bronxelf_ag001; that you do not get to tell someone --anyone-- what their priorities ought to be, or what they should be caring about the most.
Quick update
Aug. 5th, 2011 12:31 pmIn Virginia Beach with mama_hogswatch, her family, and both my kids. Weather's been great, surf has been phenomenal, just an all-around good week. Trying mightily to cherish every morsel. Tomorrow we're all splitting up onto various solo adventures --in my case, headed to Pennsic where I dearly hope to meet up with a list of truly awesome people, some of whose company I haven't enjoyed in far too many years. Only thing I'm a little ambivalent about is the weather forecast --things don't look very pleasant for the Slippery Rock, PA area in the next few days. Just thought I'd check in and keep my Tens Of Fans up to speed on my actions and reactions. --grin--
(Shout-out tobronxelf_ag001; I am at last about to hand-deliver your gift to meadwench, as per your instructions!)
Lotta life-changing difficulties going on, on my friendslist these days --I hope y'all can soon arrive at a place equally as happy and complication-free as it presently appears to me.
mama_hogswatch, her family, and both my kids. Weather's been great, surf has been phenomenal, just an all-around good week. Trying mightily to cherish every morsel. Tomorrow we're all splitting up onto various solo adventures --in my case, headed to Pennsic where I dearly hope to meet up with a list of truly awesome people, some of whose company I haven't enjoyed in far too many years. Only thing I'm a little ambivalent about is the weather forecast --things don't look very pleasant for the Slippery Rock, PA area in the next few days. Just thought I'd check in and keep my Tens Of Fans up to speed on my actions and reactions. --grin--(Shout-out to
bronxelf_ag001; I am at last about to hand-deliver your gift to meadwench, as per your instructions!)Lotta life-changing difficulties going on, on my friendslist these days --I hope y'all can soon arrive at a place equally as happy and complication-free as it presently appears to me.
Inception lives up to the hype, first and foremost. Deserves every award for which it's been nominated. The pacing was tight, the character development was phenomenal, even the soundtrack was damn near perfect. Solid storytelling and A-list performances from every single cast member.
This is a thinking person's action-adventure movie, by the way. In fact I'll even go as far as to call it a critical thinker's action-adventure movie. It's not gonna spoon-feed you a damned thing. You are dropped into the story and you're just plain gonna have to accept a couple of plot points without explanation. In other words, nevermind the how, the director needs to get you straight to the what and the why. So, no convenient recaps or setup scenes --this movie starts out already assuming your IQ is sufficiently high to be able to process more than one person's viewpoint in 2 hours' time.
Inception is the latest heir to a succession of "reality-or-not-reality?" movies that includes such splendid mindf**ks as The Thirteenth Floor, Dark City, eXistenZ, and of course The Matrix. It goes without saying that the special effects and the cinematography are first-rate, and I'm happy to report that they serve the story and don't become ends in and of themselves.
So with all this praise, what's my beef with the flick? Why, its essential premise: the notion of entering someone else's subconscious and deliberately planting the seed of an idea that is not theirs. So while most folks are raving (justifiably so) about DiCaprio's character and the way he ultimately triumphs over his own personal demons, for me the true hero of the piece is Cillian Murphy's character, the "mark," the guy who's actually being manipulated below three levels' worth of subconscious. A group of total strangers has barged their way into this guy's head, honed in on his latent Daddy Issues (inwardly I cringe at the notion that Pete Postlethwaite's swansong role is in fact a dying man in a hospital bed), and plugged in an idea that isn't his, but one that he believes he came up with on his own.
In other words, the entire arc of the story is a long, drawn-out act of deliberate gaslighting. And anyone who reads this blog certainly knows my views on that.
So... by all means see it. It's tremendously rewarding, is visually brilliant, and I guaran-damn-tee it'll trigger meaty discussions about the nature of reality, and what it means to be human, and what dreams can reveal about us, and of course The Triumph Of Intellect And Romance Against Brute Force And Cynicism. Just be aware that, at its core, it's about deliberately tricking someone into accepting a falsehood. And for that alone, I have to stop short of giving it five stars. Call it 4.5.
This is a thinking person's action-adventure movie, by the way. In fact I'll even go as far as to call it a critical thinker's action-adventure movie. It's not gonna spoon-feed you a damned thing. You are dropped into the story and you're just plain gonna have to accept a couple of plot points without explanation. In other words, nevermind the how, the director needs to get you straight to the what and the why. So, no convenient recaps or setup scenes --this movie starts out already assuming your IQ is sufficiently high to be able to process more than one person's viewpoint in 2 hours' time.
Inception is the latest heir to a succession of "reality-or-not-reality?" movies that includes such splendid mindf**ks as The Thirteenth Floor, Dark City, eXistenZ, and of course The Matrix. It goes without saying that the special effects and the cinematography are first-rate, and I'm happy to report that they serve the story and don't become ends in and of themselves.
So with all this praise, what's my beef with the flick? Why, its essential premise: the notion of entering someone else's subconscious and deliberately planting the seed of an idea that is not theirs. So while most folks are raving (justifiably so) about DiCaprio's character and the way he ultimately triumphs over his own personal demons, for me the true hero of the piece is Cillian Murphy's character, the "mark," the guy who's actually being manipulated below three levels' worth of subconscious. A group of total strangers has barged their way into this guy's head, honed in on his latent Daddy Issues (inwardly I cringe at the notion that Pete Postlethwaite's swansong role is in fact a dying man in a hospital bed), and plugged in an idea that isn't his, but one that he believes he came up with on his own.
In other words, the entire arc of the story is a long, drawn-out act of deliberate gaslighting. And anyone who reads this blog certainly knows my views on that.
So... by all means see it. It's tremendously rewarding, is visually brilliant, and I guaran-damn-tee it'll trigger meaty discussions about the nature of reality, and what it means to be human, and what dreams can reveal about us, and of course The Triumph Of Intellect And Romance Against Brute Force And Cynicism. Just be aware that, at its core, it's about deliberately tricking someone into accepting a falsehood. And for that alone, I have to stop short of giving it five stars. Call it 4.5.
River trek
Aug. 30th, 2010 10:33 amPretty amazing weekend, all told, and not just because the weather decided to bless the Upper Valley. Saturday nomoretoast and I biked the Northern Rail Trail from Lebanon to Enfield and back (a distance of about 14 miles give or take). Beautiful views, just enough shade to keep it from being brutally hot, and nary a slope the entire distance! The next day she, myself, riverspirit54 and mama_hogswatch (and of course Jellie, our Shar-Pei mascot) kayaked/canoed from Bradford all the way down to Orford (a distance of about 12 miles give or take).
(For the record: both biking AND canoeing would appear to be better in real life than on the Wii Sports Resort. This merits further study.)
I will confess there were a couple of difficult moments there when it was well-nigh impossible NOT to think of Bob and what this particular stretch of river meant to him (and to all four of us).
On the happier side, one particular discovery (if you can call it that) that delighted us on this trip was a small, unlabeled island pretty much right in the center of the river just south of the ox-bow. There were some campsites on the island (but no mysteriously abandoned Dharma Initiative stations) and the universal consensus was, we have GOT to head back there for a gathering of some sort --hell, there's enough tent space to hold a mini SCA event fer cryin' out loud. This island positively cries out for tankards of mead 'round the fire (and some after-hours skinny-dipping). Anyone know what this island is called and how (or even IF) one arranges to make use of it for a weekend?
A good couple of days. Good company, good exertion, good weather. And, as one might expect, a VERY good night's sleep.
nomoretoast and I biked the Northern Rail Trail from Lebanon to Enfield and back (a distance of about 14 miles give or take). Beautiful views, just enough shade to keep it from being brutally hot, and nary a slope the entire distance! The next day she, myself, riverspirit54 and mama_hogswatch (and of course Jellie, our Shar-Pei mascot) kayaked/canoed from Bradford all the way down to Orford (a distance of about 12 miles give or take). (For the record: both biking AND canoeing would appear to be better in real life than on the Wii Sports Resort. This merits further study.)
I will confess there were a couple of difficult moments there when it was well-nigh impossible NOT to think of Bob and what this particular stretch of river meant to him (and to all four of us).
On the happier side, one particular discovery (if you can call it that) that delighted us on this trip was a small, unlabeled island pretty much right in the center of the river just south of the ox-bow. There were some campsites on the island (but no mysteriously abandoned Dharma Initiative stations) and the universal consensus was, we have GOT to head back there for a gathering of some sort --hell, there's enough tent space to hold a mini SCA event fer cryin' out loud. This island positively cries out for tankards of mead 'round the fire (and some after-hours skinny-dipping). Anyone know what this island is called and how (or even IF) one arranges to make use of it for a weekend?
A good couple of days. Good company, good exertion, good weather. And, as one might expect, a VERY good night's sleep.
Saw the teaser for next week's episode. Looks like there really is going to be a green Dalek. Guess I need to change my username.
Well, it was a reasonably original idea for 24+ years. Not a bad run for a nickname.
Well, it was a reasonably original idea for 24+ years. Not a bad run for a nickname.
One "can't" too many
Jun. 29th, 2008 02:10 amInside of a week, an individual (I won't call her a co-worker even though we work for the same employer) has given me:
That's eight "I can't"s in five days. I counted. That's just too many. I'm not going to make conversation with this person anymore or chat with her on the bus. Not going to be rude or discourteous, I'm just penciling her out of my life. I'll sit elsewhere or take a different bus. Her nonstop defeatism is frankly starting to suck me down with her. I frequently need to cue up Rollins Band's "Up For It" after associating with this woman.
I think on this in the aftermath of Bob's life celebration --I swear there must have been 200 or more people in there --folks whose lives had been touched by Bob in some way. I look at that and reflect on how much Bob accomplished in his life; asnoelfigart put it, fully rounded and leaving nothing incomplete. There was so damned much to celebrate. I contrast that with a tale once told to me by moonstaff's mom --about a relative (I want to say an aunt, although I may have it wrong) who as a teen managed to work up enough courage to head to New York City to try out a new career path. The first week in the city, her apartment got robbed and it devastated her, sent her flying back to her rural hometown, and she never set foot out of it again for the next 60 years. moonstaff's mom told me that there were perhaps 15 people at this woman's funeral and none of them really had much to say or reflect upon --that her life had essentially been a day-to-day process of sitting around complaining, and waiting to die.
Mareli, I should add, was also most emphatically NOT an “I can’t” person. A situation might have been difficult, or challenging, or not solvable right away, but it was never a flat-out “I can’t.” That's ninety years' worth of living without those two words ever escaping her lips. Think on that.
I think I just need to just cut more of that kind of thing out of my life path. I'm way too close to 40 to expend energy on Special Little SnowflakesTM who seem only to be able to define themselves in terms of what they can't do --boasting about it, even. What a cop-out. Worshippers at the altar of self-pity. You have a medical condition, you take steps to fix it. You have a handicap, you adapt to it. Something's impeding your forward motion, you figure out a work-around.
(And y'know something? I find that the more years go by, the more I hear a "But I caaaaaan't" out of someone, the more it actually sounds like a "But I don't waaaaana.")
I guess I really just need to delete the "I can't" folks from my day-to-day roster, and work instead on associating more with the sort of folks who can do, no matter how many difficulties arise. The change really does start with me.
"I'm allergic to that."
"Oh, but that makes me dizzy."
"My hip won't let me do that."
"My back hurts."
"I'm allergic to that too."
"But I can't sit like that."
"I could never do that, it would make me so dizzy."
"It's too cold in here."
That's eight "I can't"s in five days. I counted. That's just too many. I'm not going to make conversation with this person anymore or chat with her on the bus. Not going to be rude or discourteous, I'm just penciling her out of my life. I'll sit elsewhere or take a different bus. Her nonstop defeatism is frankly starting to suck me down with her. I frequently need to cue up Rollins Band's "Up For It" after associating with this woman.I think on this in the aftermath of Bob's life celebration --I swear there must have been 200 or more people in there --folks whose lives had been touched by Bob in some way. I look at that and reflect on how much Bob accomplished in his life; as
noelfigart put it, fully rounded and leaving nothing incomplete. There was so damned much to celebrate. I contrast that with a tale once told to me by moonstaff's mom --about a relative (I want to say an aunt, although I may have it wrong) who as a teen managed to work up enough courage to head to New York City to try out a new career path. The first week in the city, her apartment got robbed and it devastated her, sent her flying back to her rural hometown, and she never set foot out of it again for the next 60 years. moonstaff's mom told me that there were perhaps 15 people at this woman's funeral and none of them really had much to say or reflect upon --that her life had essentially been a day-to-day process of sitting around complaining, and waiting to die.Mareli, I should add, was also most emphatically NOT an “I can’t” person. A situation might have been difficult, or challenging, or not solvable right away, but it was never a flat-out “I can’t.” That's ninety years' worth of living without those two words ever escaping her lips. Think on that.
I think I just need to just cut more of that kind of thing out of my life path. I'm way too close to 40 to expend energy on Special Little SnowflakesTM who seem only to be able to define themselves in terms of what they can't do --boasting about it, even. What a cop-out. Worshippers at the altar of self-pity. You have a medical condition, you take steps to fix it. You have a handicap, you adapt to it. Something's impeding your forward motion, you figure out a work-around.
(And y'know something? I find that the more years go by, the more I hear a "But I caaaaaan't" out of someone, the more it actually sounds like a "But I don't waaaaana.")
I guess I really just need to delete the "I can't" folks from my day-to-day roster, and work instead on associating more with the sort of folks who can do, no matter how many difficulties arise. The change really does start with me.
Ba weep grahna weep ninnebong
Nov. 9th, 2007 12:26 pmRemember my post about time moving on? Featured a picture of a guy at a Halloween party in '85?
Well...
Perhaps it's a generational thing. Offspring #1 constructed this amazing freakin' ensemble which was on display at a party last weekend withmoonstaff and the gang:
The child built LIGHTS into the darned thing. High-beam headlights AND amber marking lights. Just astounding.
And here's that picture from '85, just for yuks:
Well...
Perhaps it's a generational thing. Offspring #1 constructed this amazing freakin' ensemble which was on display at a party last weekend with
moonstaff and the gang:The child built LIGHTS into the darned thing. High-beam headlights AND amber marking lights. Just astounding.
And here's that picture from '85, just for yuks:
Corny but I like it
Nov. 8th, 2007 12:14 pmNote new default icon. Am feeling tremendously capable and (dare I say it?) powerful at the moment, and I want to share that with one and all. May everyone in sight of this entry now find in themselves the gumption/wherewithal/moxie to seize the day, get creative, and decisively solve their current most pressing problem.
Go get 'em and don't be tempted to put it off until after dinner. Do it now.
Go get 'em and don't be tempted to put it off until after dinner. Do it now.
All reminiscy and stuff...
Sep. 19th, 2007 08:40 amLast night our mighty warrior cats brought down their first mouse in a very long time --sounded as though it was quite a long and drawn-out battle. The prize was not offered to any of the two-legs in the house for a post-mortem, though.
Learned a lot this week. Very rewarding in a hell of a lot of ways. Yet while FL is, in many respects, every bit as laid-back and It's-All-Good as VT and NH, there are a few things about this state that make me realize I could never live here (and it ain't just the amazing proliferation of critters with > legs). Very much looking forward to being back in the Upper Valley, and, just as importantly, very much looking forward to having riverspirit54 and her partner back there as well.
Go Gators!
riverspirit54 and her partner back there as well. 
Thirty-five... sheesh...
Jul. 3rd, 2005 10:37 pmExactly one week from today I shall turn 35. Not necessarily any more or less of a milestone than is any age that ends in a zero or a 5, but still, it's got me seriously thinking. I still don't freakin' FEEL like an "adult" a lot of the time, if that makes any sense.
Long day. Trying to get my online galleries launched in time for my birthday. The hard part's getting the thumbnails properly inserted just so; adding PayPal buttons is actually the easy part. Hopefully there will be some triumphant noises coming out of this corner in the next few days.
Happy Independence Day, my friends.
Long day. Trying to get my online galleries launched in time for my birthday. The hard part's getting the thumbnails properly inserted just so; adding PayPal buttons is actually the easy part. Hopefully there will be some triumphant noises coming out of this corner in the next few days.
Happy Independence Day, my friends.
This weekend I had an absolutely wonderful visit in the 'burbs of Boston with longtime LJ-friend dietrich and the love of her life imlad; much drinking, scrutinzing of the inscrutable, and all-around merriment ensued. I also dropped off some illustration samples with a fantasy gallery in the nearby town of Burlington in the hopes of attracting a publisher or ten.
However this weekend was also significant to me as it involved a return to my childhood hometown: Arlington. Was very eerie to be driving up and down Massachusetts Avenue past old and extremely familiar landmarks. Virtually all of the storefront names are of course greatly changed from the last time I was in that town (1986), but those are about the only differences. The streets of my old neighborhood remain as they always have, the exterior paint color of the house where I spent my first 16 years, the grounds of my old elementary school are exactly as I remember them, even the strangely peaceful atmosphere of my old church were very familiar. Of course there's nobody left in the town that I knew or cared about much, yet the locale was quite haunting. I made not a single wrong turn the entire time I was there; it was reassuring to know my teenage sense of recall wasn't playing me false half a lifetime later.
(Ironic that there was an honest-to-goodness time-travellers' gathering in Cambridge that same evening; this particular time traveller only missed it by one town over.)
Anyways: can memory energies be poured into a physical location with such intensity that they remain, able to be called up again at will, even though the actual personalities who put them there are long since gone? I'd be skeptical but for the fact that one of the most rational, logic-worshipping people I know has experienced distinctive memories of deceased soldiers on a Civil War battle site.
Thoughts? Or is this just woo-woo stuff and I need to get a freakin' life?
dietrich and the love of her life imlad; much drinking, scrutinzing of the inscrutable, and all-around merriment ensued. I also dropped off some illustration samples with a fantasy gallery in the nearby town of Burlington in the hopes of attracting a publisher or ten.However this weekend was also significant to me as it involved a return to my childhood hometown: Arlington. Was very eerie to be driving up and down Massachusetts Avenue past old and extremely familiar landmarks. Virtually all of the storefront names are of course greatly changed from the last time I was in that town (1986), but those are about the only differences. The streets of my old neighborhood remain as they always have, the exterior paint color of the house where I spent my first 16 years, the grounds of my old elementary school are exactly as I remember them, even the strangely peaceful atmosphere of my old church were very familiar. Of course there's nobody left in the town that I knew or cared about much, yet the locale was quite haunting. I made not a single wrong turn the entire time I was there; it was reassuring to know my teenage sense of recall wasn't playing me false half a lifetime later.
(Ironic that there was an honest-to-goodness time-travellers' gathering in Cambridge that same evening; this particular time traveller only missed it by one town over.)
Anyways: can memory energies be poured into a physical location with such intensity that they remain, able to be called up again at will, even though the actual personalities who put them there are long since gone? I'd be skeptical but for the fact that one of the most rational, logic-worshipping people I know has experienced distinctive memories of deceased soldiers on a Civil War battle site.
Thoughts? Or is this just woo-woo stuff and I need to get a freakin' life?
October 31, 2003
Oct. 31st, 2003 08:28 amHappy Halloween and Blessed Samhain (or should that be, "Happy New Year?") to one and all. Been one bizarre year, I can tell you. Made some truly boneheaded mistakes with more than a few regrets, but also enjoyed a couple of triumphs. Cultivated many new acquaintances, made a few new friends. Been playing music again, have gotten another 30 credits smarter, had an article published. Didn't get fired, arrested, or evicted. Got an unsolicited request for sample artwork from Marvel Enterprises. Seen the kids through a few more once-in-a-lifetime milestones. Re-established communications with my father, after a silence of some 3+ years.
Last night the Vermont night sky treated us to a truly spectacular display of greens, blues, and reddish-pinks. I think I'll choose to interpret that as a good sign.
Much candy and happiness to you all.
Last night the Vermont night sky treated us to a truly spectacular display of greens, blues, and reddish-pinks. I think I'll choose to interpret that as a good sign.
Much candy and happiness to you all.
A Friday uplift: Hack yourself!
Apr. 18th, 2003 02:22 pmThanks to ladytabitha and kitiara for steering me to this, then reinforcing it.
In keeping with the various leadership styles I've been studying, this little essay certainly seems to back up the recurring themes of "Try it," "Don't fix blame, fix the problem," "Don't waste time beating yourself up about it," and my favorite, "It's not failure, it's a successful way of finding out how something doesn't work." This is emerging as a mindset in an ever-widening list of admired leaders: from Harry Truman to Jimmy Carter, from Robert E. Lee to Colin Powell, from Julius Caesar to Lech Walesa, from Maria Montessori to John Moses Browning, from Walt Disney to Preston Tucker, and from Bill Gates to Ben & Jerry.
Okay, enough namedropping. The original source for this essay is: http://www.bloodletters.com/hackyourself.shtml
( I shall now post the article, as per the author's wishes. )
ladytabitha and kitiara for steering me to this, then reinforcing it.In keeping with the various leadership styles I've been studying, this little essay certainly seems to back up the recurring themes of "Try it," "Don't fix blame, fix the problem," "Don't waste time beating yourself up about it," and my favorite, "It's not failure, it's a successful way of finding out how something doesn't work." This is emerging as a mindset in an ever-widening list of admired leaders: from Harry Truman to Jimmy Carter, from Robert E. Lee to Colin Powell, from Julius Caesar to Lech Walesa, from Maria Montessori to John Moses Browning, from Walt Disney to Preston Tucker, and from Bill Gates to Ben & Jerry.
Okay, enough namedropping. The original source for this essay is: http://www.bloodletters.com/hackyourself.shtml
( I shall now post the article, as per the author's wishes. )
