Saturday, March 29, 2008

Hillary Ono

I wish I could give credit to whoever came up with this analogy, as it makes its point beautifully.

If Hillary Clinton should be credited with White House and national security experience, we have to accept that Yoko Ono was one of the Beatles.

Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.

Stunned silence, and I was almost dragged out of church. How the hell did I get here?

Ah, yes. Early in the week, there was a simple, happy time. As I work for the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, I was to have paid days off on Holy Thursday and Good Friday. For the record, I still contend that calling Good Friday good in the context of what happened on that day is disrespectful on a grand scale at best, but I digress.

There I was, a nice, easy half week ahead of me. Then it happened. One of our networking crew had an unfortunate death in the family, and could not make it to that department's scheduled Cisco training. Out of the blue, I was asked if I would like to go. Hmm, a $3,000 Cisco class... that I will need long term anyway... sold! So much for those two days off, but the trade off was well worth it.

A little detail was left out in all this. This class was the latter class for CCNA prep. This class was not for people who do not do networking on a regular basis. This was sending a white belt in to spar with UFC contenders. This was akin to taking Spanish 1 in high school, and then taking Spanish Lit in college, taught entirely en espanol.

Each day I left class a little dumber, and I'm not sure I spelled my name right on the sign in sheet on Friday. Since then, I've gotten my hands on the materials for the class I should have been in, and some things are falling into place. I would also like to add parenthetically that whoever decided on Base 2 instead of Base 10 for IP addressing... if you are still alive, I hope you slip in a puddle of AIDS.

My poor wife was as understanding as one who was not in that class could have been. My IQ had been quartered. I had post traumatic shock. 30 minutes before we had to be in church, I realized that she meant for us to go to the Easter Vigil Mass, and I should probably get ready. I don't doubt that she indicated her preference clearly, my addled brain just wasn't processing anything very well.

It had been a while since I had attended Mass. As I approached, flames roared higher in the church, eerily flickering through the stained glass. Fortunately, it was not my presence, as I first thought. A piece of paper fell onto the display of Paschal candles, and one of the ushers immediately handled it in the vestibule. Innocuous, but off-putting from the outside. Easter Vigil... Easter Vigil... Ah, yes. This is the one Mass where the Catholic church makes up for the general lack of scripture reading by reading the ENTIRE FREAKIN OLD TESTAMENT.

Sorry. I exaggerate, it only felt like the entire Old Testament. On top of my brains, sanity, and patience being at dangerous lows, a few things happened in church.

The priest sing-songed every syllable. Nice touch for an Alleluia, but it gets to be a bit much.

At some point, a wannabe movie announcer guy joined our parish. His delivery was complete with the long, unnecessary dramatic pauses every 4 to 7 words. "the water was as a wall............... on the left.......... and on the right............ " For someone who talks as fast as I do, this is physically painful.

I think it was in the 5th or so reading when critical mass was achieved. The standard creation tale was given a politically correct Cliff's Notes treatment. God made man, male and female... I'm pretty sure there should have been something about a rib instead of the way it was read, but I was out of sorts, and correcting someone at the pulpit just would not be taken well. In the midst of Abraham preparing to use his son as a holocaust (yep, PC approach for Creation, but why not use one of the most provocative words in the language instead of saying "sacrifice"?) when it happened.

My wife sensed my ill ease, and looked up at me quizzically. All I could do is look down and try to convey my feelings cleanly, and quietly. Apparently, this came out of me in a half growled, half whispered "whiskey tango foxtrot". There was a moment of quiet as she processed it. There was a stunned silence, and this is about where this post began.

Monday, March 03, 2008

Best. Headline. Ever.

The Force is stong in these writers.

Sunday, March 02, 2008

A polite huh?

Ok then, UC Berkeley is negotiating with a Saudi university. Is fair to say that this never would have happened with a South African university not all that long ago?

I just don't get it. Of course, the list of things I don't get is staggeringly long and varied.