Something in the Air

I recently wrote an article about the platypus species being the most primitive of all mammals. Funny that only a couple months later there is now a news story about this vary same thing. The news story is originally from Livescience.com here. There is new interesting information about the fact that although the platypus has the X and Y chromosomes, these are not the sex chromosomes for the platypus. Instead, the platypus has about 10 other chromosomes for that purpose. Strange animal, this platypus

It's Starting Again

Something is stirring in Silicon Valley again. I drive around and still see a lot of empty commercial lots in the industrial area where I work. Even still, larger new buildings are being built around me. Even weirder, the lunch crowd is becoming larger. I've been noticing this slow change over the past 6 months or so. Where lines at the local Togos and Subway used to be easy to get through, they are now extending well out the shop door. More people are starting to work in the area. The job market looks like it's starting to pick up.

The old days of semi-conductor giants springing up over night are gone. The new industries of the valley are Biotech and Solar. Solar is starting to take off so fast that a new nickname for the valley might end up being Solar Valley. Biotech is growing rapidly too. It's contribution is a little more dispersed thoughout the San Francisco Bay Area. Either way, you cannot throw a rock without hitting someone that is currently working in either of those fields.

Another thing I've noticed is that the Ward Cleavers are back. These are the slightly older guys that wear slacks and shirts that make them look like they just stepped out of a Leave It To Beaver episode. I guess they think they are dressing up. Or maybe their wives are picking out their clothes thinking that the old rules from the 50's still apply. Either way, they are filling the lunch lines with their open discussions of confidential information about their new jobs.

Late last year, I overhead this one group of younger guys. They were not the Ward Cleavers, but they were dressed up a bit in the way that younger guys dress up (all name brand clothes, but not well coordinated). Anyway, they were going into very exact detail about the technology of their start-up Biotech company. Let's just say I understood what they were talking about. I heard so much that the only piece of information I needed to make the information useful would've been their company name. I tried and failed to catch a glimpse of their door badges. I think they figured out I was eavesdropping at that point, so they smartened up. They really shouldn't have been talking about the proprietary matters in line at a sandwich shop in the first place.

The lull in the crowds and traffic was nice while it lasted. It looks like we have another boom cycle getting ready to take off and soon as the economy turns more favorable.

It's about me

It is easy to think one’s life has not measured up to the expectations one’s own heart and mind. Accomplishments made diminished are held low. Even the proud braggart is ultimately over compensating for feelings of inadequacy. Yet each person must face the truth that we are here for a reason. Accomplishment is not measured by comparison to others, but on the merit of the deeds and thoughts of the inner person. Each person must admit to themselves that they are worthy; worthy of love, joy, and peace; worthy of that which we earn. In this, life is a calm excitement. It is the excitation of living in which having a calm spirit brings success.

We are blessed with our time here on Earth. This blessing is a chance to us. But extension, our responsibility here is for our self. We earn more than each of us can possible know in one life. Many lives must be experienced to gain the full value of our being. We reside beyond existence, yet held in stasis within this world, within this Universe. It is more than what we can see, but much less than our lifespark. The universe cannot be held equal to the value of my life, or the lives of any other. Yet, somehow we are all contained within its ether.

It’s about me. Each of use can say this for our self. It is about me. This world is not so random. It is intertwined, full of incidents, but never accidents. The world revolves around me. At the same time it revolves around each of us equally. Our paths lead one place; that which is beyond the infinite. In this, the minor day to day living, the rut, and the daily grind are nothing less than us inching towards our ultimate destination.

Even though each of us is on our own journey, we are collectively moving together. Each of us a cell in the greater organism; a piece of the whole that so much greater than what we can possibly see. It’s not our need to know full extent of things. Knowing would hinder and distract too much. We must focus upon the task laid before us. Life; its purpose is to live. Me; this is my purpose, to live my life. Is it really so simple? The answer to that is up to me.

Thank you to the Cosmic Consciousness for the time and worlds in which to speak. Enjoy.

Nice Weekend, Nice, Three Days a week

I know I talk about my weekends more often than any other day. I may have mentioned before that to me there's like three days a week. Monday through Thursday is just one blur that counts as a single day. Friday is Friday. And the Weekend, which consists of Saturday and Sunday.

This weekend, Allie and I had a nice relaxing afternoon. We like to head up to Burlingame's downtown area on nice weekend days, though this weekend I think we actually ...you know what, I can't even remember now. Man oh man. I believe we did go to Burlingame last weekend, which is why I think my memory is confused. Oh well.

On Friday, we had dinner with her folks. Her mom cooked yet another tasty Chinese dinner. We had to leave around nine to catch an independent film called The Visitor. I enjoyed the movie and was rather impressed with the quality. Sunday night we watched Lars and the Real Girl, which blows the lid on the Real Doll website that both revolts and entices, often OCT. It was another good movie, though it didn't surprize me. The one similarity between the films is they both had a lack of closure to varying degrees, while still having good endings.

It was a relaxing weekend. In fact, it was another weekend we didn't do nearly all we should have around the house. ::sigh:: There's always a plan, but when the weather turns nice, Spring Fever onsets.

GenPets, what are they?

Someone just sent me a link for this new product that is due on the shelves very soon! It's call Genpets.




So, I wonder if they are editable? If so, you can donate them to a local food bank after they die and get a tax write-off for their amortized value.

Works of Art (Part 2 of 2)

To continue on from my previous discussion, I had two other surviving shoe polish on card stock paper works from my time spent bored working in a mall shoe store when I was a kid. This one can have a multitude of meanings. The title Faeryland Coitus only reflects one interpretation. I believe I did this one as contrast to my shear boredom. I created excitement from nothingness. There are many objects in the painting (or should I call it a polishing?). In some views, it could be seen as a lot of different fairies doing naughty things. From another perspective, it could be a hands smashing something between them as they clap together. It could also be two figures engaged in acts of carnal lust with tornado like movement. It ultimately represents my desire to be freed from my imprisonment.

The long evenings would wear on. So much so, it felt like I could turn to dust and melt away into the wind.This is what my last surviving work depicts. This is why this work is titled Blown. Here I am a disappearing face that is dissolving, even as I grin outwardly. The image could also been seen as my acceptance of futility, like the rock battered by ocean tides. The colors show my despair and anguish. Are there other figures in the background mocking me? Is that my blood polluting a body of water?

Of course, I've not touched this medium since that time. It represents a very specific period in my life in a form of expressed that was based directly on the experience itself. It would be like a gardener making works of art out of garden tools instead of the flower arraignments or garden features. I couldn't make works out of the shoes themselves, so I used the next best medium available. For me, this is how art is. Something that represents a moment in time, but not only that, it is also derived directly from that moment, created to record the moment from the very material that makes the moment what it is. These moments are somewhat spaced out in my life. It's just when something strikes me a certain way; that's when this part of my nature materializes.