An addition to the
Digital Photo Tips section
by the western half of Internet
Brothers titled Step One
looks at some obvious and immediate differences between traditional film and
digital technologies. Make sure you understand before investing your hard-earned
dough. Speaking of Dave, he's off to the Utah desert this weekend. Should have some
great pics when he returns.
:::::
A new project is underway at
jenett webthings called
Ageless. Says Joe, "I realize now that what
I really wanted to do is show that the personal, creative side of the web is diverse
and ageless and the way to do that is to get as many of you personal website
builders to freely share your date of birth with me so that there's ample data to
show I'm right." The best thing? Now I know when
Faith's and
Kitty's birthdays are (both soon). Nyah-nyah.
Better get yours in too.
Oh Jann. Thought you might want to know your
ISP is bouncing email sent your way. Looks like it's in the routing between
Mindspring and Primenet. Of course, if it's intentional, as you were. I can
take a hint ... I think, maybe, perhaps ... Woe is me.
Lynn and I were supposed to be in Mentor, Ohio
visiting our daughter for the holiday weekend. A conspiracy has definitely been put
in place to prevent that from happening. I've been promising this visit to Anna for
months. If Anna's husband is reading this, get off the friggin' Internet so I can
call Anna and apologize. No more MP3 and porn for you bud.
Add Some Confusion
"I need to find a different door of perception
somewhere, a place where people talk about not just now, but then and never and
the future passed and always, often." — from
Ann
Stretton's thought-provoking essay on web culture.
The Council of Europe's Cybercrime Convention will
meet "to define cybercrime offenses and address such topics as jurisdiction,
international cooperation, and search and seizure." But is a new cure for cybercrime
worse than the disease?
Big Brother wants to watch.
Zeldman
and Powazek have web design books
coming out very shortly, but they aren't the only ones. Looking for some Web-directed
inspiration? NewMedia
highlights many recent book titles that showcase the meeting of new technology and
Web artistry.
Disgusting search of the day: "naked boys young
armpit." It ain't here, trust me. Move along.
Going
Home. Perhaps the most important day of my life.
Amy Kim, an undergraduate at Cal Berkeley,
is doing sociolologic research about the Internet and its influence on people's
every day lives. As a part of this project, she is
conducting a survey aimed
toward people who own at least one personal homepage/website. She decided to ask
bloggers to participate in this survey because they are fairly active in updating
their webpages and are relatively familiar with the Internet. Why not
go put in your 2¢ to
give Amy a hand and help with research. It only takes about 15 minutes and is
completely anonymous.
Sorry
Kitty. It all
makes me want to zone out too. Maybe you're on to something though. I'm spending so
much time trying to research what's wrong with me that I'm frying my brain with
esoteric scientific hypotheses. I kinda like my three year old grandson's plan
— play all day then take a nap.
Thoughts and prayers for
Tiny Ray Grier would be appreciated.
He is home from the hospital recovering from a bout with pneumonia, not a good thing
with his severe asthma.
The therapist wants me to use a "grow light."
It seems the pineal gland
originally had a role as a light-sensitive organ. This smallish gland
receives signals from regions of the brain directly affected by the signals
traveling down the optic nerves, which control the the night/day cycle of hormonal
activity and the sleep/wake cycle, the body's so-called
circadian rhythms.
It is known to secrete a hormone called
melatonin.
The amount of melatonin released by the pineal gland can be measured in the blood.
Under normal conditions, melatonin levels are low in the daytime, and rise gradually
at night, peaking at two or three in the morning, and gradually decrease until it is
time to wake up. Through our daily cycle of alertness and tiredness, the biological
clock affects our moods and our performance. Superimposed on the daily cycle, there
are other biological cycles of various periods, in humans and animals, such as
oestrus and winter hibernation.
Some people, perhaps as many as one in ten of the
population suffer from
Seasonal Affective Disorder or SAD, a form of depression
characterised chiefly by its seasonality, by depressed moods, decreased energy, a
tendency to sleep too much and to feel excessively tired. The therapist thinks this
may be going on with me. What is remarkable about this form of depression is that
exposure to bright lights alleviates the symptoms. Depending on the light intensity,
as little as half an hour each day causes the worst of the symptoms to pass. The
mood lifts, and energy returns. Again, it is light through the eyes which matters.
For some, bright lights mainly work by strengthening
the setting of the circadian cycle. For others, the lights affect a mechanism in
the brain known as the
serotonin pathway, because drugs which are known to increase
the amount of the hormone serotonin in the brain appear also to alleviate SAD
symptoms. So we're going to try light instead of more serotonin.
:::::
Alwin makes a compelling argument about treatment
and coverage issues related to
health economics. Just a couple years ago I approached my primary care provider
about a heart stress test, even though I had nothing wrong. Both my grandfather and
father had their first heart attacks in their early fifties. I am high risk. As I
approach that age, I argued my first attack might be prevented by early maintenance.
If I had arterial blockage, wasn't it better to know now rather than after permanent
damage?
My physician tended to agree, but said he was
stymied by the insurance companies. We concocted a plan to tell a few little white
lies (Do you have chest pain? Why yes, I do.), and eventually the stress test was
approved. The results were good, my arteries were clear and flowing nicely. The
doctor and I have planned one of these tests every five years whether indicated or
not. Call it fighting back.
I wondered last week about serotonin and alcoholism.
While not responding directly to that query, Framboise sent some information about
hormone therapy after hysterectomy. Since SSRI anti-depressants are used extensively
among women who cannot take hormones, she has done some research there as well.
Framboise has compiled an extremely comprehensive web site about
Surviving Surgical Menopause.
"A jump in circulating blood alcohol causes a
several hour corresponding jump in circulating estrogens. Yes, even in men (it's
responsible for the feminizing effects you see in old alkies). SSRIs are used in
surgical menopause because they occupy estrogen receptors in the brain, thus tending
to help with some of the same depression, memory and mood things that estrogen
itself does."
"There was evil karma in
that darn
thang." Lynn too Kitty (smirk).
:::::
I like to mention people who have been kind to
me. One recently was jennyb. She probably
doesn't even have any idea what it was. Jennifer has some very interesting
stories to tell and a clever grasp of the telling. Go see.
Had my hat handed to me on a plate over at
MetaFilter for my
overenthusiastic comments about Tiger Woods. Even got threatened bodily harm with
a nine iron. Most of it in good fun, I suppose, but geez some people take themselves
way too seriously. I guess we have to solve all the world's weighty problems first.
Me? I'm just going to continue having fun. Oh, and heartiest congratulations to MeFi creator
Matt Haughey
for making the cover of
Brill's Content. This publicity may REALLY put the noise ratio over the edge.
Personal Plea. Would all you people over there in the linky-list on the left
please refrain from writing such wonderful prose and poetry just for a few days?
You're making it exceedingly difficult for this rank amateur to keep up with the
emotional and thought-provoking quality. I love reading your words, but you're all
making me feel woefully inadequate. That is all.
A determined march to history. There are perhaps
only a handful of moments in anyone's lifetime that truly create an historical
perspective. In mine, man setting foot on the moon, maybe even the invention of the
microchip qualify. Some may say it unpalpable to consider a triumph of sport in the
same category, but I believe it happened yesterday
amid the tradition-filled Augusta, Georgia pines. A very young man accomplished
something all the greats of golf never achieved. The feat has only been equaled once
in the game of tennis. A few Olympians have propelled performance beyond what was
considered humanly possible. In the games of individual success no man or woman has
ever been the holder of all golf's major titles
concurrently. It's called the Grand Slam. Young
Tiger Woods marched into eternal lore yesterday — April 8, 2001 — it is
etched in my memory forever.
Probably everyone on this planet is the best in
the world at something. A key to success is discovering your something and using it
to your advantage. I'm still looking, but haven't given up.
Feeling a tad underappreciated? Rub your chihuahua's
belly then look at that tiny face...
The unexpected weekend visit from my parents was
delightful. No great words of wisdom about health matters, they are after all not
doctors. They did, however, provide support and relief from one of the symptoms of
depression I have been feeling — missisng my family. Just being with them for
a few days picked up my spirit considerably. Now to use it as a steppingstone.
Now [04.07.01 entry] y'all know why I said
trust me. God bless
you Jann.
Alwin says
Pushing A Camel Through A Bar
Straw is nothing profound. Perhaps, but it surely tackles one of the largest
drawbacks of online community. Simply put, it isn't face to face. Nearly every time
I sit down to write lucid words that come out confused, I'm conjuring someone in
particular in my mind. Many are the times I've wished it was much more than a
mental picture. I want to put my arms around a suffering friend (see above). I want
the dear one who said just the right thing when I needed it to see my smile and share
the aura. I wish to hike through the woods with the nature lovers and compose lasting
images with the photographic artists or talk content management with the geeks. I
want to meet all of you, every last one.
Sunday means Bluzz of the Week. Through this feature,
I'm searching for the brightest, funniest, most controversial or otherwise intriguing
comments from the previous week's forums, journals and blogs. Spring has sprung in
the northern hemisphere and love is in the air. Or maybe it's just the pollen, ragweed
and spores. Whatever, it sure beats ice and frost. If you find a true treasure you'd
like to nominate for future Bluzz of the Week, even if you wrote it yourself,
please let me know.
Meg Pickard says she's
not.so.soft. I don't know about that,
but I've discovered from reading her
weblog for a couple months that she is nice, kooky, witty, can blow air through
her tear ducts — she's a friend in need and a friend indeed. Meg is a very
well-educated world traveler presently parking her duds in northwest London. She is
Executive Producer for a large Internet company and just happens to be a prolific
writer. Some of that writing caught my eye the other day and is this week's Bluzz.
Meg was standing at a bus stop waiting to go home when she overheard a conversation
between two young men. Here are a few excerpts from
Prelude to a
kiss?
"Just kiss her," he said, gesticulating
passionately, "if you want to kiss her, you should do it."
"We were standing at the bus stop, waiting for the
number thirteen to drag us up the hill and homewards. Well, they were standing at
the bus stop. I was opposite them, outside a newsagents, standing, eavesdropping
with a bag of vegetables in one hand and a bunch of bright pink and orange gerberas
in the other - my present to myself for surviving Wednesday. They were only a metre
away, deep in earnest conversation, and I was transfixed."
"It's like bungee jumping, you know? You just have
to put your feet together, clench your fists and do it. You can't worry about what
will happen. You should just go for it," he enthused.
"He was tall and lanky, with small round glasses
and a close cap of thick curls. His hands moved quickly when he talked, and he
shuffled from one foot to the other, as if dancing. His thick Israeli accent sounded
loud in the Swiss Cottage air - pungent and appealing and strange, like Balti spices
in the Pennines. He rolled his Rs and made "go for it" sound like gohferrrreeth. I
wrapped my mouth silently around his pronounciation of the word. It felt funny..."
"His friend laughed. He was shorter, shrugged
inside a baggy outdoorsy jacket, propped up on one bent leg against the bus shelter.
"I can't," he began. He was Canadian - you could tell by the accent, and then, with
the benefit of hindsight, it all clicked into place - the short cropped hair. The
jacket. The good teeth and the knapsack. "I want to, I think she wants me to, but I
just don't think it's time..."
"I realised I'd missed so many opportunities,
because I waited too long. I wanted to kiss her forever, and as soon as I realised
I'd waited a week to kiss her, I realised it would always be forever" forever with
a double f: foreffah, "minus a week. I lost a week of forever because I waited.
Don't lose a week, man."
"The bus came quickly and I lost them in the crowd.
But I thought about them the whole way home."
— Meg
Pickard
