Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Lost and found

February has been a really good month for me, and I thought today might be the day to try to recover some lost data. See, my laptop was stolen last month, which wouldn't have been so bad if I had been better about backing up my data-- but I haven't been.

I have an external hard drive, and I used to use it to back up my stuff. But last summer, I transferred all the backups back to my laptop so my brothers could use it to transfer files. I always meant to do another backup, but I didn't. And although I started moving my old backups back to the external hard drive, I never finished. Long story short, I lost a lot: all my dissertation work, all my BYU teaching stuff, years of photos, letters, journals, personal records, fiction writing, etc.

It's sucky, but I'm dealing. I mean, I wish I hadn't lost it, and I pray every day that a miracle would happen and I would get my laptop back. Actually, I pray that I will get my bag back, because it also had my scriptures in it, which I have had since my mission. Also a scarf and hat that my mom knitted for me for Christmas. January was a real loser month for me. But it's okay. I've rebooted my dissertation with a new topic, and it's rising like a phoenix from the ashes. Awesome!

So anyway, today I downloaded four or five free data recovery programs and went through the external hard drive with a fine-toothed comb. It was a lot of work, and it didn't go quickly, but I got some of my stuff back and that felt great. Mostly it was old pictures, but but I also got some dissertation notes and some records. So it's not like the stuff itself was super-awesome, but it just felt so sweet to get something back after all that loss.

--S.P. DAVIDSON

Sunday, February 22, 2009

A final lesson

I don't want to be one of those guys who can't stop talking about his last relationship, but it's only been a month since the breakup. So I think I'm still in the window. And I do have something I've been thinking about for the last few days. So as a follow-on to my previous post, I'm going to share a fourth and final lesson that I have learned from contemplating my relationship with "Jem."

4: I regret not trying much more than not succeeding. This is true for all parts of my life. When I give something my best effort, I can always feel good about having tried, even if I fail in the end. And when I don't put in the effort, I always regret it.

Right after Jem broke up with me, I looked back for missed opportunities-- chances to save the relationship that I had blown. And I couldn't see any. But in the last week, I have seen one: the night she officially broke up with me.

It had been a week and a half since she had left my home to go back to her home, and in that time all our attempts at conversation had been brief and unpleasant. I knew that something was wrong, but I didn't know what. My dating experience told me that I was about to be dumped, but I still hoped that we might be able to last it another few days until we were both back in Boston and could sit down and really talk. But that's not what happened.

One night she called me up, and after a few curt sentences she paused. I thought to myself, she is trying to figure out how to tell me that she wants to break up, but she can't figure out how to start. So I asked her if there was something she wanted to tell me. And she said yes, and in another few sentences she broke up with me and then we hung up.

I now think that that conversation was a missed opportunity. It was a time where I failed to try. In that long pause, I could have told her what I was feeling. I could have said that in the last few weeks I had seen that she was not happy and that something was wrong in our relationship. More importantly, I could have said that I wanted to know what she was feeling and thinking, and that I wanted to make our relationship work. Instead of seizing the opportunity to try to make things work, I prompted her to break up. It was a cowardly act.

That was my last chance, I think. And at this point, I certainly don't see any chance of us getting back together. (In fact, some time in the last few days she took me off her list of Facebook friends. So I'm officially persona non grata.) I know that, and I accept that. But in that conversation, I had a chance. I don't know how she would have reacted, and maybe it would have made no difference in the end. The choice was ultimately not in my hands. But I'm sorry that in that moment, I didn't cowboy up and do everything I could to try to win back the woman I loved. Next time I am in that situation, I am not going to chicken out. I'm going to toss the dice. Lose or win, succeed or fail, I will try.

Okay, so now I'm done posting about this. Thank you, imaginary readers, for enduring a little melodrama. We now return to our normal schedule of posting about politics and comic books.

Hooray!

--SAN GIOVANNI UMILIATO

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Schroedinger's Valentine

Since it's Valentine's Day, I thought I might talk about my love life. As many of you, my imaginary readers, are no doubt aware, my girlfriend of four months broke up with me about three weeks ago. I would have talked about it before, but the breakup kind of messed me up. This week we sat down and talked things through, though, and I feel a lot better now.

For those of you who have not heard this story, I'll give you the Reader's Digest version. To protect her identity, I will refer to her as "Jem." And to protect my own identity, I will refer to myself as "Snake Eyes."

We started going out in September, and very quickly were seeing each other almost every day. I was hesitant at first, but then gave in and let myself be happy. We made plans to visit each other's families over break, which I had never done before, but things were going very well, so it felt like the right call. My visit to Jem's family went very well, I thought, but when she came to meet my parents she seemed very distant. On the first day we talked a little bit about some of her concerns, but that was our last real conversation. She broke up with me a week and a half after the trip, but I knew it was over the day I drove her to the airport.

What killed our relationship? This was very hard for me to understand. Personally, I was very happy-- until January, when it became apparent to me that something was wrong. But things had been wrong for a while. That became clear in this week's little post-mortem discussion. There were lots of little things that were making Jem feel unhappy, unloved, unimportant. I don't want to blame these little things, though, because none of them would have been hard to fix. In virtually every case, they would have required nothing more than a few words and maybe a slight change in (my) behavior. These were not big problems. The big problem, the one that killed the relationship, is that I didn't know about any of the little problems. That's what did us in. The longer we were dating, the more little problems were stacking up without getting fixed. One day she reached a tipping point and had to get out.

Now what? My friend Rachel Van Kirk told me years ago that it's important after a breakup to think about what you have learned from the experience, and what you still need to learn. So here are three things that I think I have learned in the past five months.

1. Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. I thought our relationship was super-awesome because I saw no evidence of problems. But I was wrong. There were problems-- I just wasn't seeing them. And in truth, I don't know that I was looking very hard.

2. Always look for ways to help, instead of waiting to be asked. I had heard that it sometimes takes hard work to keep a relationship healthy and happy. I thought I was willing to put in the hard work, but I always thought that meant making difficult sacrifices and compromises after problems had been identified. It had never occurred to me that I might be required to work hard to find problems to be solved. I thought I was ready to do whatever Jem wanted, but what she really wanted (I think) was to have me actively spend time and attention making our relationship better instead of passively waiting around to be told there was a problem.

3. If something is wrong, holler until you're heard. In January, I knew something was wrong between us. I tried to raise the subject delicately, but I knew it wasn't working. I guess I was afraid that if I pressed the issue too hard, Jem would get upset with me and it would damage the relationship. Boy, that was stupid. Problems usually don't solve themselves spontaneously, and relationships don't stay in stasis like Schroedinger's cat until we can find the perfect moment to really open up and see what's happening. I was right in thinking that something was wrong between us. And it was getting worse every day, every hour. So, next time, I'll be direct. If I'm not happy, I'll raise a ruckus and I won't stop until I know that I am heard.

These three lessons are all I'm sure of right now, but I suspect that there are lots of other lessons I have yet to learn. In fact, I wouldn't have reached 33 as a bachelor if I didn't have lots to learn about women and relationships.

And if any of you, my imaginary readers, have lessons you want to teach me, you're in luck. I'm in a teachable mood. So please feel free to drop me a comment.

Put me some knowledge here, man.

--CASA DE DOLOR

Thursday, January 22, 2009

In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey

A couple of tunes for a Wednesday morning at 3 AM.

Enjoy!

--JUAN PENA



Saturday, December 27, 2008

Do I owe Ron Paul money?
Chapter 2: Their Finest Hour

So, as I have mentioned before, this summer I sublet to a Ron Paul nut. He said that the stock market is going to crash and everyone is going to buy gold to use when the economy collapses and we abandon paper money. That sounded nuts to me.

So we made a bet on whether or not the price of gold and the Dow Jones Industrial Average would converge. The gap in July was about 10,000, and I said if that closed to less than 5,000 in the next year or so then I would make a substantial to Ron Paul's congressional campaign. Or whatever.

So for the last five months, I have been watching both the price of gold and the Dow Jones. August and September were very good months for me. The gap remained at about 10,000 almost the whole time; there were only three days when Bob's predictions were ahead of the curve.

But it's been pretty ugly since then. Here are the numbers:

October 21, 2008
* Dow Jones = 9,265.43 points
* Price of Gold = $795.00
* Difference = 8,470.43

November 21, 2008
* Dow Jones = 7,552.29 points
* Price of Gold = $738.00
* Difference = 6,814.29

December 22, 2008 (no data for 12/21)
* Dow Jones = 8,579.11 points
* Price of Gold = $835.75
* Difference = 7,743.36

It's not been pretty. Bob's predictions were ahead of the curve for 33 of the 63 business days in these three months. But there are two bright spots. First, the price of gold has not risen at all. In fact, it's fallen about a hundred dollars an ounce since this summer. That's good. It means not everyone is a panicky nutjob with an irrational fear of paper money and equally irrational faith in the magical powers of gold.

Second, like the rescue of defeated Allied forces from total annihilation at Dunkirk, bailouts from the Fed have prevented a complete economic collapse and Wall Street has bravely rallied in December to save me from losing the bet and having to donate to Ron Paul.

As my good friend Winston once said:

Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves, that if the American economy and its stock markets last for a thousand years, men will still say, "This was their finest hour."

So, chin up, lads. And until next time, cheerio!

--JOHANN "FNORD" WEISSHAUPT

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Froeliche Weinacht!



Das Bluemelein, so kleine,
das duftet uns so suess;
mit seinem hellen Scheine
vertreibt's die Finsternis.
Wahr'r Mensch und wahrer Gott!
Hilft uns aus allem Leide,
rettet von Suend' und Tod.

--DAS SCHMERZHAUS

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

It's evolution, baby

I was taught that the sex of children is randomly determined. Since each sperm carries with it an X or a Y chromosome, whichever one happens to get to the egg first will determine whether the baby will be a boy or a girl. So each child has essentially a 50-50 chance either way.

But I've always thought that boys run in my family. I have more than twice as many boy cousins as girl cousins. I have one sister and four brothers, two nieces and six nephews. This never looked particularly random to me.

So this guy thinks he has proved that it's not random. In fact, it's an inherited trait passed down from father to son.

"The family tree study showed that whether you’re likely to have a boy or a girl is inherited. We now know that men are more likely to have sons if they have more brothers but are more likely to have daughters if they have more sisters . . . " Mr Gellatly explains.

...

The study suggests that an as-yet undiscovered gene controls whether a man’s sperm contains more X or more Y chromosomes, which affects the sex of his children. On a larger scale, the number of men with more X sperm compared to the number of men with more Y sperm affects the sex ratio of children born each year.


Interesting stuff. And it means that I was right all along. As usual.

--YAHYA AL-RIIFI

Friday, November 28, 2008

Hey America, you're so fine

It's a good day. I spent the morning putting up a Christmas tree with my brother and his family. Then I got online and bought presents on Amazon's Black Friday sale. This afternoon we all went out and threw the frisbee around. And of course, I'm completely full of turkey and cranberries.

Thank you, America, for being awesome. And thank you, God, for letting me be born in America.

--THE HOUSE



PS - I played this game to see how much I love America. I got a 97%. Stupid Roe v. Wade... Can't believe I missed that one. So easy.

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Post Apocalypse

I for one welcome our new insect overlords...

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Apocalypto

Well, I voted this morning. It took me almost two hours of waiting in line, but I cast my ballot against Obama, for Palin, and-- to a lesser degree-- for McCain, and against Biden.

Despite the fact that I have been trying hard not to care about this race, I find myself quite tense. And so in these trying hours, I turn to the words of wiser men than I for solace:

Kent Brockman: Professor, without knowing precisely what the danger is, would you say it's time for our viewers to crack each other's heads open and feast on the goo inside?
Professor: Yes I would, Kent.


Mmmmm! That's good democracy!

--JACQUES LE PEN