Plagiarism

What has been scene can not be unscene.

Who will speak for the breeze?

(The borax?)

Who will speak for the fleas?

Peace out.

Blew Cross

I'm pretty sure I didn't get the internship offer at Independence Blue Cross because I told the interviewer that I didn't think health insurance companies should exist.  Oops!

Peace out.

A Math Dream

I had a dream the other night that got pretty feisty as it got toward the end.  At some point, someone said something along the lines of, "Math isn't an art!"  As I'm sure pretty much anyone reading this knows, I am pretty gung-ho about math being an art.  Anyway, Michael S (the RA from the fourth floor that I played Scrabble with one time) was there in my dream as well, and for some reason he was extremely on my side, which was awesome.  So he sort of laughed at the person and then said something to the effect of, "Oh come on!  Believe math isn't art is like believing that the elephant population is multiplying, or that the planet isn't getting warmer!"  I remember stopping in my dream for my brain to cycle through things to say.  It was kind of surreal.  Anyway, later he continued, "Of course math is an art:  you need to do exercises to communicate effectively through the art."

I'd never thought of that sentence before, and that was the last thing that happened in the dream before I woke up.  It was amazing.  I wish I had thought of that consciously.  I think that's a pretty effective argument of why math is an art.

Peace out.

Compassionate Release

This is why we should have compassionate release:

"JLWOP stands for Juvenile Life Without the Possibility of Parole.

"This means going to adult prison for the rest of your whole life without even the slightest possibility of ever seeing a parole board. For children.

"This is very significant because even someone doing "straight life" (life with the possibility) at least has some date in the future where he will be eligible to go to a parole board. So a straight-lifer has an incentive to do his programs, do his restitution, whatever he needs to do- because those walls close in on you, you know; and even the hardest dude starts thinking about those words "life in prison" after a while. That's how they break gang leaders and get them to debrief, you know. Give them the hope that maybe one day they will get the chance to plead their case in front of a parole board.

"That maybe one day- far in the future- they will have a slim, fighting chance to get paroled.

"They know that they will be old men at that point but there is at least a glimmer of hope that they will be able to look at clouds without razorwire in the way. To eat that home-cooked meal from their elderly wife instead of getting a postcard in their cell that she died alone. To sleep in a real bed for a little while until the end. To go to a park and look at ducks and kites and pretty girls.

"To hold their grandchildren in their lap, and look at the pictures they drew with their crayons, and maybe go and buy a toy the grandkid will cherish forever. Maybe even be able to see the little tyke open the Santa present under the Christmas tree one last time.

"To die with a modicum of dignity in a hospital bed with flowers and loved ones and cards and painkillers and a TV instead of succumbing in agony while shackled to a prison hospice bed in a 5-day old dirty diaper being abused by a prison nurse."

(Taken from HidingFromGoro on the SomethingAwful.com forums)

(The part about the ducks and kites and pretty girls really gets me)

Peace out.