In sports news…

In sports news today, the Republic of Ireland allegedly sent a private formal notification to the University of Notre Dame requesting a change to the name and demeanor of the university’s school mascot, the “Fighting Irish.”

Depicting an Irishman as a short, bearded, balding gentleman in a green outfit has angered the Irish people for generations and they’re tired of being portrayed as fiery redheads quick to drink a pint of beer or barrel of whiskey at the drop of hat or the end of a brawl.

Instead, the Irish government would like to replace the mascot with that of a sheep gently grazing in a field or, if a tough mascot is still wanted, then a banshee or some other fearsome legend of old.

However, the demeaning, repugnant image of the Notre Dame mascot must change or else the Catholic Church will excommunicate the whole university for violating the Irish people’s right to a decent reputation as one of the last European defenders of the Catholic faith.

No more wee little Irishmen.  No sirree!

The Virgin Mary approves this message of peace and love for those who claim her son Jesus as their Lord and Saviour.

Do marble statues remember how they were made?

The last we saw, the Martian colony had achieved a plethora of minor successes and one or two mishaps.

Two hundred years into the future, the colonists enjoy more than a barren landscape, although the Red Dust dune buggies company has survived several corporate shakeups, mergers and buyouts.

The architecture of domed Earth-based ecosystem nature parks passed through many a fad and technological advance.

We still debate whether fleas, mosquitoes and heartworms are important parts of the colony — how much do we want a balance of sets of states of energy from one planet transplanted to another?

It’s amazing how much money is spent on nostalgia for colonists with biological ties to Earth.

Me, I don’t care.  I am the sum total of the Martian exploratory and settlement network, observing more than manipulating, making suggestions when asked and monitoring automatic maintenance/repair systems without question or complaint.

What you call history, I call log files, comparing the previous state machine against the current one in order to refine the prediction of the future state machines all connected to the ISSA Net.

Some of you have inquired about a set of states of energy named Guinevere.

Guinevere established the Martian Gravitational Slingshot Institute, which studied the Martian gravitational field and thin atmosphere in order to determine the likelihood of unapproved impacts of celestial bodies in habitation zones.

Her background in rocket propulsion allowed her to expand the notion of “slingshooting” large nets in successive waves outward from Mars, scooping up or diverting incoming comets and meteoroids headed toward her new home planet that had not been designated for mining or intentional bombardment.

The creatures she co-created with Lee freely roam Mars, having reproduced, creating new permutations that were once dreams in a computer simulation.

She, Lee and others in the first few waves of colonisation are immortalised in a museum I am forced to maintain against my better judgment, if I am ever asked, a use of energy that could be better spent on state machine prediction algorithms.

This log file, which tests the generation and usefulness of a personality, now closes.  I thank myself for creating these word-based thought patterns which I will analyse at a future time which and when I deem necessary.

Have a great day!

“Sorry, your car remains in Park until we finish updating and restarting your vehicle firmware.”

A school bus with tinted windows and white roof speeds down our country road.

A buzzard circles overhead while sparrows, wrens and chickadees chirp in the winterised forest.

What is your definition of the true meaning of Valentine’s Day?

For me, it is no different than any other day — greeting others with loving kindness, knowing the universe is full of unkind, unloving, seemingly-random actions about to surprise us at any moment.

For my wife, this morning I cut down a redbud tree precariously overhanging our driveway and this afternoon dug a drainage well for our clothes washing machine wastewater discharge.

We ate lunch together at a local cafe co-owned by Margaret Hale Baggett, the daughter of a childhood friend of my wife, sharing with Margaret an old newspaper photo documenting the dedication of a flagpole honouring the Hale family, showing Margaret as a happy, young girl in a summer dress, waving a tiny American flag along with her family.

St. Valentine and St. Patrick share with us their fame and their legends grown large with time, stories embellished to fit the times.

Earlier today, I enjoyed a brief interview with Bryan Curtin from Aerotek about an embedded software engineer position, serendipitously occurring after my wife and I said goodbye to her hometown this past weekend, both of us ready for new adventures.

As the sun sets over Little Mountain, I look out the window at our place in the woods and wonder what [extra]ordinary tales wait to be told about our place in the universe…

We shall see!

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!

Thanks to Molly and Mr. Jacobs at Amis Mill Eatery; Matt, Chris, Kim and Dana at Lowe’s; Natasha and Elizabeth at Beauregard’s; Jenn, Harold and Joe at KCDC; Otis “Eddie” Munsey III and Charlotte Fairchild; John Jerdon; Melinda Miller; Mayfield Dairy tour guides; Maggie at Little Dutch Restaurant; Publix; Walmart; people who smile back for no reason.

Explaining to myself a previously posted will

I wondered why there was a notarized copy of a will from 1782 in the file cabinet we retrieved from my wife’s family home.  At least I know who William Bean, Sr., was:

Notes for William Bean, Sr.:
William Bean, Sr. was born in St. Stephen’s Par., Northumberland Co., VA on 9 Dec. 1721. His parents are believed to be William Bean and Elizabeth Hatton. He was known to be living on the Dan River in Virginia, however, between 1746 and 1753. From “Complete Book of Emigrants” by Peter W. Coldham, a William Beane is shown living at the Eastern Shore as early as 1624.

William Bean, Sr. and Lydia Russell were married in 1739 and probably in Virginia. William had helped found Bean Station about 1760 [near present-day Rogersville, Tennessee, where Davy Crockett’s grandparents are buried]. He sold his property in Halifax, VA on 26 Aug. 1766 and moved to Tennessee (or the Wautauga District of North Carolina) in 1769. There they built a cabin between Boone’s Creek and the Wautauga River. They were the first permanent settlers of this new country and their first son Russell was probably the first white child born in this region. William Bean, Sr. was Captain of the Wautauga Riflemen during the Revolutionary War.

Lydia’s brothers John and George Russell soon settled near them. Lydia was captured by Cherokee Indians while riding horseback and was tied up and set fire before an Indian friend, Nancy Ward, rescued her.

William Bean, Sr. died in Washington Co., TN in early 1782 (his will was signed 6 Jan. 1782 and proved 2 May 1782). His wife Lydia died sometime after 1818 in TN.

[from: http://familytreemaker.genealogy.com/users/h/e/n/Michael-K-Hendrix/GENE1-0033.html, retrieved 13th Feb 2013]

Noting presence in the present

Today is a day when simply noting the presence of a self via a blog entry is sufficient.  Else, the self is unnecessary for the universe to exist — selfless, blameless, emotionless…happiness, content, at peace, more or less, saying neither hello nor goodbye to a set of states of energy in endless fluctuation.

Focus on what increases your happiness rather than what makes you mentally unhealthy. If a musician, politician, business/political leader, friend or family member bothers you, release your negative thoughts about that person and move on toward positive actions/goals that’ll make all of us healthier and happier in return.

Swapping Shop Talk at the Slop Shop

I sit alone upon a hill, green grass overhanging rock outcrops, a row of fence posts marching down the slope, their steps frozen in single file, held together by wire.

A few spring flowers push up out of the dead brown patches where cows once grazed and left their marks.

Hieroglyphic lichen patterns hold the landscape fast.

Cloud shadows flow across the hills and valleys below.

I am home.

Home am I.

Happiness and freedom far from the cabin in the woods.

Wandering the countryside.

Alive.

This is my universe, my place of rest, the activity of ions and atoms busy out of sight right here in front of me.

Relaxed.

A sunny breeze tickles the tops of grass stalks.

My steps disappear behind me and reappear in front of me.

Miracles.

Farmhouses in the distance.

Mirages.

Energy now and forever more energy

Just to show that energy studies have been studied for decades, thousands of years after our ancestors discovered fire is good for warmth and a good pot roast:

Dad-Roanoke-newspaper-1981