For those interested in blood spatter....

There is an interesting tutorial by Slemko Forensic Consulting here. Don't ask.

Science fiction - so yesterday!

If you don't follow him regularly yet, click through and start

Quote of the day

", when preceded by itself in quotes, is unprovable.", when preceded by itself in quotes, is unprovable.

(A Quine)

Quote of the day - quoting myself

A girl should have a hot ass and a cool head.
- me, to a girl who was runnin a fever (no, I did not personally check the temperature of either end)

Before my time?

As long as I'm exhuming old writings, might as well put up a bit of prose...back from high school. You can see that well before Obama, I was concerned about energy independence (of course, since this was not long after the oil embargo, so was everybody else in the USA at the time).
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Smelly feet

Smelly feet are one of the few resources in the United States that are as yet unexploited.

The essence of smelly feet should be collected, concentrated, and bottled. In the bottled state, the scent would be a formidable non-lethal self-defense - we would be as safe in our persons as the skunk is. Crime in our cities would be quickly extinguished. Naturally, the scent would have to be used judiciously, or the law-abiding citizens might flee into the country as well.

Because some of the gases released by our feet are flammable, if those gases can be captured, they might provide a new fuel source. Wouldn't it be worth exploring whether our foot odor could make us independent of the Arabs?

So harness foot odor for a better world!

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On more mature reflection, the energy content of stinky feet is probably inadequate for our nation's needs. Also, the scent might not be "non-lethal", judging by my wife's after a long day at work in pantyhose.

Last Testament

That's really all the poems that I ever put on the web before. The others would probably be best forgotten, as far as art is concerned. But they might provide some insight into a young man's pouting and pretensions, so I'll inflict them on you anyway.

This next can be said to have been written before its time...mostly because "emo" really wasn't in style yet. Nevertheless, as maudlin as it is, I'm happy with the way it flows.

Last Testament

As the coffin slowly lowers
Do not weep to see me part --
The gentle hands of death assuage
The ruins of my heart.

You never wept to see me go
Those days I strived to win your hand;
And then, as now, I would not leave
Without some faint command.

At MY command I flee today
To beg the shadows' grace
My only music, light, or warmth
Are visions of your face:

Let my death now not torment you
Nor my passing draw your sighs
For the darkness that enfolds me
Frames the brilliance of your eyes.

That is my pride....

One of my favorite works isn't an original work at all - I translated a poem by Hermann Hesse from the German. My translation managed to preserve not only the meaning, but also the meter and the rhyme scheme. I haven't been able to do that with a German poem since!

THAT IS MY SORROW

That is my sorrow, that I learned to play
In all too many painted masques, to sway
But all too well the truth as seen
By others and myself. No gentle feeling
Stirs in me, no music reeling
Whose ways and ends are not routine.

I must call that my lament
Myself to know my innermost intent
Foreknowing every pulse's toll
That not a nightmare's admonition
No joy's nor grieving's precognition
Still manages to touch my soul.

Hermann Hesse (trans. J. Fiederer)

In

This one was Professor Ramsey's favorite. He had criticized one of my short stories as having too many adjectives. It irritated me - I had been trying for a Lovecraftian style, so this was no accident. I asked him, "Well, what parts of speech do you like?" He answered "I've always been rather fond of prepositions."

I wrote this for him...he loved it, and encouraged me to publish it, but I never did.

In

under before

 

from before

around before

to before

to:

on after

 

at before

to:

in after

through after

of after

 

over during, during, during, during

Been gone for a while! Time for some poems....

A couple of friends of mine have never seen any of my old poems, and I haven't put them in this blog yet (although I did on Myspace), so let's start with "Puzzle".

This was written back in college thinking about Lynn, a girl in my Physics class, who was a sophomore when I was a freshman. She worked as a "Programming Assistant", helping other students with their programming problems. If I hit an especially difficult snag, I would ask her...she'd just say that if it was difficult for me than she certainly couldn't help, she was there for less advanced students - but maybe I could help her with the crossword puzzle she was doing!

PUZZLE

always interrupted by those who come for help

your attention analysis and bottomless eyes

that drain their efforts of their errors

 

your concentration dissolves in the arch of your neck

your body edging forward to examine closer

your velvet blue jeans frame the motion of your thighs

and then your pencil beacons their mistakes

 

that crossword puzzle something I can do with you

seeking words the papers want also finding how I want

to meet your eyes again and chill your thigh with feather hand

and count your hair with my caresses introduce allseeing tongues

and feel the head accumulate between us join us

 

why do I not touch I know you will not curse

or start at me and backhand my devotion

what stops me but the threat of gentle explanation

syrup dipped rejection loving you are not enough

please understand I do not wish to hurt you

 

I find the words not that I need but satisfy

the vacant squares you fill with what I say

but my silence is unknown unheard unfilled

and more come needing your assistance

 

aside again I watch your lips glide from your teeth

I need your guidance so much more than they

but no right to demand it's not your job