Trolling around Barnes & Noble

I managed to waft back into my own, local Barnes & Noble, just to see just how anemic my choices are.  And for the most part, I was right.  They had not a single title I was looking for, even though not a single thing I was asking about was in any way, obscure. At least they have my own personal biases covered nicely: IMG_5162-0They also have a rather huge selection of bibles.  This  also echoes my first request, The CS Lewis Bible.  It’s the NSRV, which, I don’t know very well, but will at least keep me from having to read the word Peradventure to my kids. I don’t mind big words, but the big words I use are still used today. I know it’s a petty quibble.  Go ahead. Smite me.

Of course, I figure if Barnes & Noble is going to come close to going to the apologetics Superbowl for Christian thinkers in the theological section, I may as well expect someone in the B&N braintrust to sit back with the playbook and figure out how to get Kaepernick out there in the fourth quarter and throw a Hail Mary pass. Go long: IMG_5181My guess is, this is all in the spirit of fairness, equanimity, and the fact that I’m sure tons of people walk in there every day and say “Hey, I’m starting a Coven. Can you point me in the appropriate direction for resources that might help me conjure Belial from the third cardinal point?”

And to top it off–they had two of them.  In case you want to support a losing horse that breaks down as soon as the gate drops.

I am going to blame Satan for Barnes & Noble acting like any of Stant Litore’s books are the equivalent of the early days of Mr. Snuffalupagus on Sesame Street: people have heard of him, but no one can prove any sentient evidence that supports said existence.stant

“Whats the deal?” I ask. “The man that wrote the Zombie Bible series can’t get a leg up in here.”

Neither could they tell me directly why I can’t buy Litore’s’ books on my Nook–bit I CAN on a Kindle.  I don’t want to do that because my Kindle is really my iPad, the backlit, LED thing makes me all nervous and prone to rash behavior, like flying gyrocopters to the Captiol Building in DC.

Now I’m in troll mode.  I point to a really huge display over IMG_5168-0to the right, and say “what’s all this?”

“You mean the Game of Thrones series?” they ask.

“I’ve never played it.  Those rules must be hard to memorize,” I said.

They just looked at me like I was crazy.

“No,” they said. “George RR Martin.”

“Never heard of him,” I said. “Why can’t you cut that display in half and get Stant Litore in here?”

I think something about me saying I had never heard of Game of Thrones in general made them think I was a loon.  But when I asked him to check the availability of Studying Cirrus Clouds for Fun and Profit, he knew the game was on. I then found this:

IMG_5167-0 The Disney motif caught my eye.  I wanted to read it, but the binding was so unwieldy that I had to stand on it to hold it open. Which is okay, but I’m now wearing Power 1x reading glasses.  Those won’t help. In order read it that far away, I need glasses that can accidentally give me a glimpse of Alpha Centauri when I wear them. Then, I’m about ready to walk out, when I see this: IMG_5163-0 I didn’t even read it.  I just let the inspirational potential waft from the inside of it–just looking at it.  Bigfoot’s coming to Redding.  Soon. I can feel it. My birthday is Saturday.  Ape suits, Bibles, fly-fishing, ukuleles. Hmmm . . . .I just don’t know.

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Lennox on deck

 Jazzed am I.

 

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Stomping my Chuck Taylors in the city

IMG_5106 Don’t  let anyone tell you that an excursion to a metropolitan area is going to avail you to a wider berth of commerce.

Because it isn’t. The Barnes & Noble here is as pathetic as the one back home; three inquiries, three strikes.

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Stephen Hawking is not always right (or, should I say, John Lennox is at UC Davis tonight)

533905_478210165579622_1387143925_nJohn Lennox is speaking at UC Davis tonight. And I’m going to see him.

Let me explain why this man is a bona-fide hero to me:

A very popular meme–or I should say a “sub-meme” in the Facebook wars–the wars between the believer and the skeptic, is this idea that “Stephen Hawking is always right.”  The subtext says, “who are you?  You’re not Stephen Hawking.”

UGRsViISomewhere along the line, Hawking, an immensely mentally gifted and talented thinker and scientist–, became synonymous with “infallible” in the pith wars.  He is perhaps second only to Einstein in the collective consciousness of a public that might be asked to name a famous scientist.

Hawking also, until recently, held the Lucasian Professorship seat in Cambridge. Without a doubt a distinguished chair, once held by another name you might know: Sir Isaac Newton.

Hawking became more or less a household name with the publishing of his book, A Brief The_grand_design_book_coverHistory of Time.  And while Hawking attempts to put into lay terms, the sometimes-convoluted language of physics, he explores–and really attempts to trace the origin of the universe.  A noble pursuit it is. Especially when these pursuits are engaged in from the confines of a wheelchair, in the throes of Amiotropic Lateral Sclerosis–Lou Gherig’s Disease–a disease over which has also defied the survival odds by many, many years.

Fait accompli says that the consideration of a Creator would at least be brushed upon, and Hawking does.  In the closing salvos of the book, Hawking states that if we can find the “Theory of everything,” that we would ultimate know the “mind of God.”

The books ends, and the door of possibility–at least in his mind, appeared to be open.

Cut to Hawking’s most recent book, The Grand Design, which, upon reading it is paradoxically named, because Hawking ultimately tosses God out completely as any possibility, and rather submits that that we experience has been brought about by gravity.

So on came the Facebook memes.  I mean, certainly, if Hawking’s impressive I.Q. arrived at some conclusion that God didn’t exist, that must certainly end the debate right there.

Here’s where Lennox enters the picture with me.  First of all Lennox quite handily debates Richard Dawkins, and approproately separates the scientific wheat from the philosophical chaff.  His debates with Dawkins, as well as the late Christopher Hitchens, are not only fun to watch, but heartening–because it obliterates the “smart atheist/dumb Christian” stereotype.

In fact, it shows one thing: Both the believer as well as the atheist can perform wonderful science, and have competing worldviews–because the debates aren’t about science–it’s about philosophy.  It’s about what is extrapolated from the data that causes all the bickering.

Lennox has responded to Hawking’s book with his own, God and Stephen Hawking. In 51lJhrxmOXL._SY344_BO1,204,203,200_short, he addresses the following questions from Hawking’s book:

  1. How can we understand the world in which we live in?
  2. How does the universe behave?
  3. What is the nature of reality?
  4. Where did all this come from?
  5. Did the universe need a Creator?
  6. Why is there something, rather than nothing?
  7. Why do we exist?
  8. Why this particular set of laws and not some other?

One will notice, that one of those questions has been put into bold lettering by me.  This is for contrast.  Question number 2 IS–a scientific question, one that has some measurable data to work with, or at any rate, an assumed source from which to start gathering.

Look at the other seven questions.  Not one of them is anything other than a question of philosophy.

Lennox points out that Hawking makes a very grave error in his book, by stating “Philosophy is dead,” given the lie by the fact that nearly all the questions in The Grand Design are themselves philosophical questions, but also because the phrase “philosophy is dead,” murders itself in the attic by being an overt, philosophical statement.

So in short, Lennox, with great respect to Hawking as a fellow scientist, simply addresses the philosophical intrusion on what is supposed to be science, and simply shines a light on the difference.

Tonight’s lecture–and its subject arc, is anybody’s guess.  But I cannot wait. And my guess is, he’s going to tell me he wishes Hitchens were still around–as I do.  I didn’t agree with him, but I loved his writing, speaking,and ability to convey both.

 

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Watch me do a card trick

So, tomorrow . . . I’m on the road to Sacramento.  I’m going to see Professor John Lennox at UC Davis with a friend.  I’ll explain more about him in the morning, before I head out.

Until then, watch my finely-honed skills in prestidigitation.  Filmed in the kitchen fifteen minutes ago by my daughter, Clara.

Forgive me for the recalcitrant hair.  I wore a hat earlier.

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The tie-dye mouse

So I need to explain this for a minute.  Most of you won’t realize this, but this is a horribly-wound version of a mouse.  I discovered that it was going to run off the rails when I started tying this with regular sewing thread–something way too thick and clubby for this.

Anyway, this was going to be a tutorial.  I tried filming it, but the qualitative mass delivered by Filmic Pro made my file so big, that I ran out of space before I had concluded.

So now, I have to delete a whole bunch of other stuff . . . apps, pics, movies,and such, to make enough room to shoot six minutes in that kind of definition.

That’s what I get for settling for a 16 gig iPhone 6.  I could use my Ipad2, but the camera quality is not as good . . . at least I think . . . hmmmm, maybe.

So, the pic.  his is colored deer hair, spun onto the hook through a technique called–oddly enough–“hair spinning.”  This hair did not “spin as much as I needed it, thus the segmented look.  I promise, I will not demonstrate the creation of some inferior rodent when I actually do get it up and going.  Plus, many of you might actually want to try it.

.IMG_5088

The uninitiated might balk at this even being viable as trout lure.  But you’re wrong.  because this is skittered along the top of the water, to replicate a mouse swimming.  And the color is almost inconsequential, because the trout see it as a shadowed profile from underneath.

Oh yeah,and most of you probably subtly understood that trout feed on caddis, mayflies, mosquitoes, flies, and ants.  But they also have a nasty, carnivorous streak.  And if a trout hits this thing, you will know it,because the violent, vitriolic reflex-strike is ungodly . . .

Anyway. Click on the pic–if for no other reason than to illustrate the iPhone 6 camera’s qualitative base.

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Guess the character

IMG_4934 

 after which this fly was named by me.   No fair, if you know me well enough to know about this already.

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Video blogging, and strawberry festivals

Not going to try to become the latest flavor on Youtube, but occasionally, I’m going to cover things that interest me.

This afternoon, I’ll do something goofy. I have no idea what it is. But first, I must go to my regular day job.

Maybe I’ll post a magic trick–mainly in commemoration of my now confirmed appearance at the Happy Valley Strawberry Festival, Saturday, May 23rd.

Yes, I’ll be there, standing behind a table, stealing watches, and generally hectoring the passerby against their will.

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Video promo–prototype 2

So now, you can see where my head is at. This stuff CAN BE fun.

Awesome.  I originally uploaded one that had a square aspect ratio. I fixed that, and have since added the right one, and edited this post.  I’ll probably make my own music when all is said and done, but I just wanted to put this up for tonight.

Goodnight all . . . and God bless. . .

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Just pick the Kombucha.

kombucha-bottledFile this in the Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus column.  There’s no way around it:  men and women are on completely different frequencies, when asked to perform the calculus of everyday decision-making conundrums.

So I’m sitting in the living room the other day, working on the prototype video in Adobe After Effects.  My wife, who had just gone on a major purging mission in the garage, walks through to get something to drink. And, as she always does, she offers me something too.

“Would you like some Kombucha, or would you like something else?”

To which I, still fixated on setting a key frame on my complex graphics program, answered,

“I don’t care. Anything is fine, thank you.”

Let me just tell you now, men. This is not sufficient.  This is—from what I now understand—a provocation; the rhetorical equivalent to wearing a red jump-suit in Pampalona, Spain, when it’s time for the “let’s get ourselves gored by a raging bull” festival.

“You’re doing it to me again, “she says.

“Doing what?” I ask.

“Making me choose, when I gave you a choice.”

Let’s look at this supposed “choice” in algebraic terms:

 IMG_4993

See, in order for there to be a choice, the “Y” variable must have an assigned value, or at least one that can be determined with the factors I am given.  And technically it does, but the “Y” variable has been assigned the dubious value of “not being X,” so I am now forced to either:

Break my concentration, and run through my entire life’s chronological rolodex of possible beverages and name one. Or, run through this list of immediate options:

·         Say “no thank you, I’m not thirsty.”

·         Try to be diplomatically convenient by saying “anything is fine.”

·         Pick the Kombucha and shut up.

·         Say no to the Kombucha.

Now, that last one will also land me in the same trouble, because she will immediately say “You don’t like Kombucha? What else would you like, then?” forcing me to the side of the cognitive road I was trying to not to exit.

This scenario is one that is not new, just new in the “X or Y” sense.  I’ve been given this one too:

 “I’m hungry, and feel like eating out tonight.  How about you?” She says.

“Sure,” I respond.

“Where would like to eat?” she asks.

“I don’t care, anything is fine.”

“PICK—a PLACE!”

Again. Diplomacy and the implied contentedness with anything gets me nowhere.  I am a bad, bad man for this answer, despite the fact that the inaugural on ramp to this conversation starts with:

·         I’m hungry.

·         I feel like eating out.

I’m of the opinion that this is not a fixable sector on the matrimonial hard drive.  I’m thinking this is somehow a hard-written bit of code in the Windows, Vista, Wife Edition.

And, as with all computer options that have no effective work around around, update or technological patch, you do what any good tech would do.

Pick the Kombucha and shut up.

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