Friday, September 21, 2007
Microsoft Server Down?
Interestingly as of about 10min ago both myself and all of my colleagues have been unable to reach any Microsoft server at all.
When I say any I meant any, this includes, Windows Update, MSN.com, hotmail.com, and microsoft.com.
They are also not responding to any attempts at ping. Is this an attack?
More later.
When I say any I meant any, this includes, Windows Update, MSN.com, hotmail.com, and microsoft.com.
They are also not responding to any attempts at ping. Is this an attack?
More later.
Monday, July 09, 2007
30 minutes of 80's cartoon Openings
I found this on YouTube. It rocks. All of the crazy cartoons I watched when I was a kid. Its just the openings but it sure does bring it all back.
Anyone Else remember these? Make sure you keep watching because you get to GIJoe and the Transformer after about 20min.
Umm I Should Write
I just keep having the thought that I should be writing on the blog more. However, when I sit down to do it. I got nothing. Those of you who have been disappointed over the past 6 months by my lack of posts are likely not surprised.
I cleaned the garage on Saturday. I had to work very early in the morning, and I ran with my friend Tom on Sunday at the forest preserve park. My wife cracked me up every time I turned around this weekend. I went swimming with my kids, and grilled twice. I should get a new computer sometime this week and I've gotten to play with an iPhone. Not a bad week I suppose. Man this boring stuff. I've gotta get some inspiration going.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Thinking as I’m driving
Prompted by a song on the radio, Air1 to be exact the song went something like:
Please tell me how far the east is from the west.
(and then a bunch more lyrics, and then)
From one scarred hand to the other…
I started thinking as I walked in from the parking garage. (thoughts in quotes)
"I visited a church one time where they were teaching people to be good, and to be honest and to treat other people well. They even had hymnals and a weekly service. They used the Bible as one of their texts and had pictures of Jesus scattered around the building. But it was clear that they missed it. Sin was not a problem to be solved. Morality was the nail they were hammering. "
I started to feel sad and create fake conversations in my head whereby I could gently expose the problems therein to these very fine mislead people. "Sin is the issue!," I argued to myself. "Don't you see that without sin the cross is a cruel joke? Even worse than that if you are inventing a morality with lipservice to the cross but denying its real essence!" I just about had myself convinced, when the pang of conviction raised the question in my mind.
"What about you?"
"You know the essence of the cross and the gospel of the completely changed life. Of an inheritance that you don't deserve and aren't really in line for. But how is your heart any different? In fact they are probably more moral than you. They are kinder and gentler and more thoughtful to others than you are. Their families are stronger and more loved than yours. So do you get it? Or did you just get a flash of it once. A taste.."
I then arrived at the office typed this blog and told myself to shut up so I could get some work done.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Bear's Blog: Man Vs Wild ...Season 2!
Even though I don't have cable TV this is my new favorite show. Bear is amazing and he has a great story too. Check out his blog. I think he actually writes his own blog which I really think is cool.
Bear's Blog: Man Vs Wild ...Season 2!
Bear's Blog: Man Vs Wild ...Season 2!
Monday, June 04, 2007
I like this....
Portrait of a Greek Teacher
Edmund Wilson, The Triple Thinkers: Twelve Essays on Literary Subjects (London: John Lehmann, 1952), p. 224:
I have found out from later experience that it requires a rare blend of qualities for a man or a woman to teach Greek well: he must have a real taste for Greek (which seems rarer than a taste for Latin), a real feeling for its luminosity and subtlety, its nobility and naiveté, a lively imaginative picture of the civilization behind it; and he must, at the same time, be capable of insisting on the high degree of intellectual discipline that is needed to keep the class up to the effort demanded by the difficulties of the subject--difficulties which do not consist merely of the more or less automatic application of formulas one has learned, but involve, along with accurate memory, a certain precision of feeling, in which one can be trained by an adept but which cannot be learned by rote. Mr. Rolfe was the perfect Hellenist. He made you get everything exactly right, and this meant a good deal of drudgery. But one was also always made to feel that there was something worth having there behind the numbered paragraphs and paradigms of Goodwin's Greek grammar, the grim backs and fatiguing notes of the Ginn texts 'for the use of schools'--something exhilarating in the air of the classroom, human, heroic and shining. The prospect of knowing this marvellous thing lent the details excitement--and so it did the daily contest between Mr. Rolfe and you, which eventually became quite jolly. You felt that he was not unkind, that he merely wanted people to learn Greek, that teaching people Greek was an exalted aim to which he had devoted his life, and that he only became really unpleasant with students who did not want to learn it.
# posted by Michael Gilleland @ 3:27 AM
Edmund Wilson, The Triple Thinkers: Twelve Essays on Literary Subjects (London: John Lehmann, 1952), p. 224:
I have found out from later experience that it requires a rare blend of qualities for a man or a woman to teach Greek well: he must have a real taste for Greek (which seems rarer than a taste for Latin), a real feeling for its luminosity and subtlety, its nobility and naiveté, a lively imaginative picture of the civilization behind it; and he must, at the same time, be capable of insisting on the high degree of intellectual discipline that is needed to keep the class up to the effort demanded by the difficulties of the subject--difficulties which do not consist merely of the more or less automatic application of formulas one has learned, but involve, along with accurate memory, a certain precision of feeling, in which one can be trained by an adept but which cannot be learned by rote. Mr. Rolfe was the perfect Hellenist. He made you get everything exactly right, and this meant a good deal of drudgery. But one was also always made to feel that there was something worth having there behind the numbered paragraphs and paradigms of Goodwin's Greek grammar, the grim backs and fatiguing notes of the Ginn texts 'for the use of schools'--something exhilarating in the air of the classroom, human, heroic and shining. The prospect of knowing this marvellous thing lent the details excitement--and so it did the daily contest between Mr. Rolfe and you, which eventually became quite jolly. You felt that he was not unkind, that he merely wanted people to learn Greek, that teaching people Greek was an exalted aim to which he had devoted his life, and that he only became really unpleasant with students who did not want to learn it.
# posted by Michael Gilleland @ 3:27 AM
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Riding the Bus
I like riding the bus to work for a lot of reasons. I can sit and stare off into space and ignore everything. I can watch people. I can listen. Sometime I should take a microphone with me on the bus. The sounds are the best part of the ride.
Today, there were two men sitting behind me speaking beautiful Spanish. If I had to guess I would say one was from Spain and the other from Latin America. The one that I imagine is from Spain looks like a professional soccer player to me. He is tall, with very dark hair and eyes, and he has a 5 o'clock shadow at 8:00am. He appears to be very fit. Also he often wears soccer jerseys, which helps the image. The other fellow is shorter with broad shoulders and nose, and has a similar shadow to his face. He has the legs of a soccer player, but not the jersey. He seems to pronounce his "s" sound differently too. Still in a clear elegant fashion, but not with the "th" hint that speakers from Spain and southern France have. As they spoke it seemed as if they were singing a secret to one another. A whispered melody, kept secret by my ignorance of their vocabulary.
Their's was not the only song I heard today. In back of the bus a black man was recounting some exciting news to a friend. I couldn't hear his content but I recognized the tune. It was spiritual. Had the words been foreign I would have thought he was singing. His cadence started low and landed with emphasis on the punctuation of his sentence. Each time he arrived at the same tone. I was staring off out the window when I first heard it and I honestly thought someone was singing. Then I realized what it was and I was more delighted than if it had been a song.
There are other sounds too. Like the relieved report of the rear door when it opens for someone getting off the bus after a long day at an awful job. There is a humble groan to the hydraulics when they kneel to accommodate a man in a wheelchair or to ease old knees out of the coach. I like the bus for all these sounds and for a dozen more.
Today, there were two men sitting behind me speaking beautiful Spanish. If I had to guess I would say one was from Spain and the other from Latin America. The one that I imagine is from Spain looks like a professional soccer player to me. He is tall, with very dark hair and eyes, and he has a 5 o'clock shadow at 8:00am. He appears to be very fit. Also he often wears soccer jerseys, which helps the image. The other fellow is shorter with broad shoulders and nose, and has a similar shadow to his face. He has the legs of a soccer player, but not the jersey. He seems to pronounce his "s" sound differently too. Still in a clear elegant fashion, but not with the "th" hint that speakers from Spain and southern France have. As they spoke it seemed as if they were singing a secret to one another. A whispered melody, kept secret by my ignorance of their vocabulary.
Their's was not the only song I heard today. In back of the bus a black man was recounting some exciting news to a friend. I couldn't hear his content but I recognized the tune. It was spiritual. Had the words been foreign I would have thought he was singing. His cadence started low and landed with emphasis on the punctuation of his sentence. Each time he arrived at the same tone. I was staring off out the window when I first heard it and I honestly thought someone was singing. Then I realized what it was and I was more delighted than if it had been a song.
There are other sounds too. Like the relieved report of the rear door when it opens for someone getting off the bus after a long day at an awful job. There is a humble groan to the hydraulics when they kneel to accommodate a man in a wheelchair or to ease old knees out of the coach. I like the bus for all these sounds and for a dozen more.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Monkey Business
http://totebo.com/mko.php?c=pEorrrosrotBForFBoUBoUEoqUpto.O7YosrFr
The Glove is down... Beat that whipper snappers!
The Glove is down... Beat that whipper snappers!
Monday, April 16, 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Lessons from a 1000 year old man
While watching the talks of brilliant people on http://www.ted.com/tedtalks
I came upon a man named Aubrey de Grey. I first heard of Mr. de Grey in an issue of Popular Science magazine about 2 years ago. The bottom line: Aubrey de Grey proposes that humans will and should live to 1000 years and beyond. Hmmm, No thanks. (Gen 6:3)
seriously...
I came upon a man named Aubrey de Grey. I first heard of Mr. de Grey in an issue of Popular Science magazine about 2 years ago. The bottom line: Aubrey de Grey proposes that humans will and should live to 1000 years and beyond. Hmmm, No thanks. (Gen 6:3)
seriously...
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Morninging
You may be wondering why I don't blog so much anymore, or you may not. Events of the last weekend make me think that there are some of you out there that actually read my blog, which I find entirely shocking. Let's just look at the reasons that this blog is not crankin out blather as regularly as it could be.
Setting: It's early a bit after 5:00am. The floor in my kitchen is cold and there is practically no light peaking in the large window overlooking my kitchen table. The coffee pot can be heard gurgling. It smells good. AM 580 is whispering NPR in the background, probably something about why the war sucks, or why eating organic food is good. (I find this comforting.)
After stumbling around to make the coffee, I fire up my, now aging Mac laptop. I click on Cap's blog, Brant's blog and anything that looks interesting on my News-Gazette and BBC news RSS feeds. Usually by the time that I've read what these sources have to say I realize that I have nothing creative or insightful to offer you, my blog reader.
So, as you can see, as with most things... It's not my fault.
Setting: It's early a bit after 5:00am. The floor in my kitchen is cold and there is practically no light peaking in the large window overlooking my kitchen table. The coffee pot can be heard gurgling. It smells good. AM 580 is whispering NPR in the background, probably something about why the war sucks, or why eating organic food is good. (I find this comforting.)
After stumbling around to make the coffee, I fire up my, now aging Mac laptop. I click on Cap's blog, Brant's blog and anything that looks interesting on my News-Gazette and BBC news RSS feeds. Usually by the time that I've read what these sources have to say I realize that I have nothing creative or insightful to offer you, my blog reader.
So, as you can see, as with most things... It's not my fault.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
IRAQ
Ok.. Let's talk about this Iraq thing for just a second. I'm pretty sure that I'm going to get mad about the conversation in one direction or the other, but I'll just deal with that.
Let's set aside the question of whether we should have started this whole thing or not, and talk about: Is it possible that this thing can end well? I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around a way to "win" this thing. Win here meaning that everybody stops killing one another and moves on to living as, at least, psuedo-reasonable people. Again I don't want to here about why we shouldn't have started this... But I do want to hear your thoughts on how to end it.
Some options I think of: (not that any of them are possible or would work)
1. Everybody that's not supposed to be there just leave.
2. Everybody in the free/psuedo-reasonable world sends 100,000 troops in and the craziest marshall law since the Roman world is commenced.
3. Mind controling drugs in the water...
4. Other...
Let's set aside the question of whether we should have started this whole thing or not, and talk about: Is it possible that this thing can end well? I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around a way to "win" this thing. Win here meaning that everybody stops killing one another and moves on to living as, at least, psuedo-reasonable people. Again I don't want to here about why we shouldn't have started this... But I do want to hear your thoughts on how to end it.
Some options I think of: (not that any of them are possible or would work)
1. Everybody that's not supposed to be there just leave.
2. Everybody in the free/psuedo-reasonable world sends 100,000 troops in and the craziest marshall law since the Roman world is commenced.
3. Mind controling drugs in the water...
4. Other...
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Grace
One the of the great things about getting married is... that if you
are really lucky you, get to marry into a grandma or 2 that you didn't
have before you said I do.
One of the great things about the grandma that I married into, is that
she loves to get her family together. Even though we don't all live
close together, in fact, she lives on the the other side of the
country, there's one thing you can be sure of... When grandma is in
town everyone is going to get together, at least once. And at least
once we're all going to share a meal together. Probably at one of
those big ole' all you can eat buffet houses.
And when you get there it doesn't matter if they take checks or
plastic, or if you've got any cash on you. The only thing that
matters is that you belong to grandma. Because if you do, you're in,
and all the graces of that house food are yours. But the best part is not the
meal its the time, what it means, and the way it meshes us together as
family, even if your just married in..
are really lucky you, get to marry into a grandma or 2 that you didn't
have before you said I do.
One of the great things about the grandma that I married into, is that
she loves to get her family together. Even though we don't all live
close together, in fact, she lives on the the other side of the
country, there's one thing you can be sure of... When grandma is in
town everyone is going to get together, at least once. And at least
once we're all going to share a meal together. Probably at one of
those big ole' all you can eat buffet houses.
And when you get there it doesn't matter if they take checks or
plastic, or if you've got any cash on you. The only thing that
matters is that you belong to grandma. Because if you do, you're in,
and all the graces of that house food are yours. But the best part is not the
meal its the time, what it means, and the way it meshes us together as
family, even if your just married in..
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
A Tuesday
This morning I got up early. No surprises there I get up early
most every morning. Today however is a Tuesday. On Tuesday's I
run. After stumbling out of bed and decidedly not flushing the
toliet (I'll touch on the reason for that in another post) I picked up my cell and called the WCIA Time and Temperature line.
TIME: 5:08
Temperature: 08 degrees
Wind Speed: 14 MPH
Wind Chill: -2
When you're fixin' to go run outside those are not encouraging stats.
I just couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to run today. So I did what anyone might do I got in my nice mostly warm (I'll touch on that later too) minivan and drove toward my friend Scott's house via the route that I knew he would be walking. It's just right around the corner. As I rounded the corner I saw a mid-size sedan performing a perfect drivers ed worthy 3 point turn-about. Could I be that lucky?
Sure enough. I rolled down my window. He rolled down his.
Scott: "Let's go to breakfast."
Me: "Great"
Scott: "I'll meet you at your house."
Breakfast today equaled Merry-Ann's diner on Neil and Kirby. I got the #1. I put lots of salt on my hash browns. I overheard the waitress say that she had run a marathon, and that she wanted to learn Hebrew, but was having a hard time finding a teacher. She found a Russian class but not yet Hebrew. She had a nose ring.
most every morning. Today however is a Tuesday. On Tuesday's I
run. After stumbling out of bed and decidedly not flushing the
toliet (I'll touch on the reason for that in another post) I picked up my cell and called the WCIA Time and Temperature line.
TIME: 5:08
Temperature: 08 degrees
Wind Speed: 14 MPH
Wind Chill: -2
When you're fixin' to go run outside those are not encouraging stats.
I just couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to run today. So I did what anyone might do I got in my nice mostly warm (I'll touch on that later too) minivan and drove toward my friend Scott's house via the route that I knew he would be walking. It's just right around the corner. As I rounded the corner I saw a mid-size sedan performing a perfect drivers ed worthy 3 point turn-about. Could I be that lucky?
Sure enough. I rolled down my window. He rolled down his.
Scott: "Let's go to breakfast."
Me: "Great"
Scott: "I'll meet you at your house."
Breakfast today equaled Merry-Ann's diner on Neil and Kirby. I got the #1. I put lots of salt on my hash browns. I overheard the waitress say that she had run a marathon, and that she wanted to learn Hebrew, but was having a hard time finding a teacher. She found a Russian class but not yet Hebrew. She had a nose ring.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Squirrels in the Ladies Room..
Sometime ago I started a post with the above title. It was the week before Christmas, and a family of squirrels found its way into the 2nd floor ladies room of Mumford Hall. All the screaming and running that you are likely imagining actually happened. In addition they tore up quite a bit of the wood work. My momma told me to never trust a squirrel.
All I want for Christmas.
Forrest Gump's mama didn't quite get it right.
Life is actually like asking a 3 year old, "What do you want for Christmas? You never know what you're gonna get."
We bravely asked this of our little shaver. His answer was as sweet as his tone in saying it.
"I want a Christmas Tree."
He had a look on his face just like Cindylou Who as he spoke.
Last night we put up the tree. Despite being warned about breakable ornaments and having to endure my explanation to him that "Christmas trees are not so much for hugging" he seemed to have a fantastic time.
And then..
This morning he toddled from his room, gave me a big sleepy hug and sat down right in front of the tree
....just to look at it.
"Daddy, can you turn on the lights?"
"Sure sweetie."
Life is actually like asking a 3 year old, "What do you want for Christmas? You never know what you're gonna get."
We bravely asked this of our little shaver. His answer was as sweet as his tone in saying it.
"I want a Christmas Tree."
He had a look on his face just like Cindylou Who as he spoke.
Last night we put up the tree. Despite being warned about breakable ornaments and having to endure my explanation to him that "Christmas trees are not so much for hugging" he seemed to have a fantastic time.
And then..
This morning he toddled from his room, gave me a big sleepy hug and sat down right in front of the tree
....just to look at it.
"Daddy, can you turn on the lights?"
"Sure sweetie."
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