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LAST POST OF THE YEAR !

Fri, 21 Dec 2007 21:49:04 GMT

From the point of Light within the Mind of God
Let light stream forth into the minds of men
Let Light descend on Earth.

From the point of Love within the Heart of God
Let love stream forth into the hearts of men
May Christ return to Earth.

From the center where the Will of God is known
Let purpose guide the little wills of men
The purpose which the Master knows and serves.

From the center which we call the race of men
Let the Plan of Love and Light work out
And may it seal the door where evil dwells.

Let Light and Love and Power restore the Plan on Earth.

ISN'T THERE ANYONE?

Fri, 21 Dec 2007 21:18:34 GMT

Isn't there anyone who knows what the meaning of Christmas is about?

(Clearing throat....In my best Linus Van Pelt voice)

"I'll tell you the meaning of Christmas, Charlie Brown."

"And there were shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night, and lo the angel of the lord came upon them and the glory of the lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid, and the angel said unto them, fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people."

"For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a savior who is Christ the Lord. And suddenly there was with the angels a multitude of the heavenly hosts, praising God and saying, Glory to God in highest heaven and peace on earth god will to men."

That's the meaning of Christmas, Charlie Brown.

*****************************************************************

WISHING ALL THE BEST, AS ALWAYS ~TRACY~

I LOVE THIS COUNTRY

Sat, 08 Dec 2007 12:17:40 GMT

Candle Power

By LUCETTE LAGNADO

MY family came to America from Egypt in 1963. We arrived during Hanukkah, and I remember being unable to take my eyes off the electric menorahs glowing in the windows of houses in Brooklyn, where we set out to hunt for our first apartment.

Even as a child I was struck by how open religious practice was in this country. Christmas decorations were everywhere — this was, after all, Bensonhurst. But what astonished me most was that Jews could be as affirmative and demonstrative as their Christian neighbors about their faith.

After we had settled upstairs in a “two-family,” I tried to persuade my parents to buy an electric menorah. I loved how the soft orange light could illuminate even the darkest winter nights. And having a public menorah was, well, American. After all, our Italian neighbors competed to set up ever more elaborate holiday displays — trees, Santas, elves, reindeer, sleighs, lights and crèches with figurines of Jesus and Mary. Our Jewish neighbors responded by prominently displaying their electric menorahs.

Despite what to me were obvious virtues, my parents steadfastly vetoed my holiday display plans. At our house, Hanukkah remained a low-key, intimate affair, observed behind closed doors — as it had been back in Egypt.

For a menorah, my mother would do what she had done in Cairo; she would take several ordinary juice glasses, fill them with water and oil and then insert a floating wick. Each night, we would light the wicks in the glasses, which we arranged in a semi-circle and placed on a tray. The flames were reflected in the oil and in the water.

My mother was always so delighted when one or two lasted through the night. “Nes,” she’d exclaim, Hebrew for “a miracle,” and cover her eyes with her hands to whisper a short prayer in the direction of the flames.

Not surprisingly, my parents, both of whom were raised in old Cairo, were overjoyed and bewildered by our new home. Jews were welcome here, and it was clearly so easy to be Jewish. Yet to them there seemed so little rigor, so little interest in the small details that defined their faith: when to pray, what foods to eat and not to eat.

My parents came to feel considerable despair at the secular society that surrounded them. The social worker assigned to help with our transition seemed particularly troubled by my dad, by his insistence on tradition and his refusal to assimilate. She disliked his habit of crying out “God is great,” a fact that she noted in her meticulous case file.

I imagine it was this ambivalence that led them to resist my menorah entreaties for so many years. In the end, however, they did relent. Perhaps it was because we were better off; perhaps it was because they wanted to feel more American. At any rate, I was overjoyed. My mother, though, continued to persist in lighting her glasses of oil.

It was only recently that I understood my parents’ insistence on observing the holiday as simply as possible. I was in the Museum of Jewish Heritage in Lower Manhattan, wandering around its gift shop, which was filled with dozens of the most dazzling menorahs imaginable, some costing hundreds of dollars. A few were sleek and modern; others were more modest and traditional, constructed by artisans. There were some electric models. Customers were milling about, trying to make their selections.

I left the shop and wandered upstairs. In a nearly deserted part of the museum, I came upon an exhibit on resistance during the Holocaust; one of the forms of resistance, it turned out, was prayer. There, behind glass, were frayed prayer shawls and yellowed synagogue tickets and Sabbath candle-lighting schedules and — this is what caught my eye — a couple of menorahs.

One, from the Lodz ghetto, was portable and minuscule, the kind you fold in your pocket so no one can find it. The other wasn’t even a menorah at all — just a photograph of one being lit in 1943 in a transit camp in the Netherlands. Like those glowing menorahs I remember from my first visit to Brooklyn, this one held my eyes. And not because it was ornate or dazzling, but because its very existence was simple and miraculous, like those glasses of oil and water my mother would light during the longest nights of the year.

EVEN DOGS GET CRUMBS....

Wed, 28 Nov 2007 14:14:30 GMT

When Bankei held his seclusion-weeks of meditation, pupils from many parts of Japan came to attend. During one of these gatherings a pupil was caught stealing. The matter was reported to Bankei with the request that the culprit be expelled. Bankei ignored the case.

Later the pupil was caught in a similar act, and again bankei disregarded the matter. this angered the other pupils, who drew up a petition asking for the dismissal of the thief, stating that otherwise they woudl leave in a body.

When bankei had read the petition he called everyone before him. "You are wise brothers," he told them. "You know what is right and what is not right. You may go somewhere else to study if ou wish, but this poor brother does not even know right from wrong. Who will teach him if I do not? I am going to keep him here even if all the rest of you leave."

A torrent of tears cleansed the face of the brother who had stolen. All desire to steal had vanished.

TODAY'S PARABLE

Sat, 17 Nov 2007 16:56:09 GMT

The Yaqui Curandero

as told by Mrs. Carmen Garcia

A poor, old Yaqui man had twelve sons. When the thirteenth son came along no one wanted to take him as a god-son. Yaquis believe that the god-parents are obligated to christen three children in a row from that family, and thirteen sons was just one too many.

The father became very angry. "I go now," he said, "and the first person I meet shall be my compadre."

He went toward the mountains and saw a man coming toward him. He was a tall and distinguished-looking person, muy simpatico.

"Where do you go?" the stranger asked the father of the thirteen sons.

"Anywhere."

"You go in search of someone to serve as your compadre?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I am the devil, and I will serve as your compadre."

"I am but a poor man," said the father. "You are for the rich who can make deals with you. Vete." And the devil went off in a whirlwind, which is how he travels, in those dust devils.

The father of the thirteen sons went on traveling and met a second man. This man was tall, slender, and dressed all in black. In his hand he held a sword. This one said to the father of the thirteen sons, "And where do you go, my good man?"

"I go in search of someone who would be my compadre."

"I will serve you, if you give me your son when I ask. He will grow up to a very good healer, the best curandero of all."

The father asked him, "And who are you?"

"I am Death."

"Well, as you take from the rich as well as from the poor, and make all equal, you shall be my compadre." This the father said, "Be at the church this coming Sunday for the Christening."

Thus it was that Death appeared at the thirteenth christening.

When the boy reached his thirteenth birthday, his god-father appeared and said to the father, "I told you I would make this boy into a great healer. Leave him to me for instruction, as you promised."

Since that was the agreement, the father had to let his son go. The boy and his god-father entered into a hill in the forest, and into a large room. There were other rooms, all as big, and in each room there were flowers and rows upon rows of candles burning.

These candles were the lives of all people, the boy's god-father said to him. If the candle was tall, and just beginning to burn, that person had a long life to live. If the candle had burned half-way, that person had only half his life left, and if the candle was nearly gone, that person was going to die soon.

Death showed his god-son an herb. "This herb is used for curing." Death taught the boy: "Each time you visit a sick person, I will be there. When you see my form at the head of the sick one, you will use this herb to cure him. But when you see me at the foot of the sick one, then you know he must die. Give him no medicine."

So the boy went out to cure, and in a short time he was a good curandero, the best. Word of his skill went out and since he always asked a great deal of money, he was rich by the time he was thirty years.

Finally, it happened that a very rich man who was very sick called the curandero and said that if he could cure him, the curandero could marry his daughter.

When the curandero saw Death standing at the rich man's feet, he knew what he must do. But then he looked at the young daughter and, infatuated by her beauty and the thought of being her husband, he quickly turned the rich man about so that Death now stood at his head. The curandero administered the medicine, while his godfather looked on -black and angry.

The rich man got well, and the young girl was very happy. "Now, let us go to the church," she said to the curandero.

The wedding was held, complete with Pascolas, but before the fiesta could start, Death appeared at the door of the church. To his godson he said, "Well, I see that you got yourself married."

"Yes," replied the godson, and he thought within himself, "What can he do to me? After all, I am his godson."

"Come with me," said Death and he held his godson so firmly that the young man could not resist. They went back to the cave of the candles. Some of them were just beginning to burn, others were half-gone;. still others flickered weakly or lay about, extinguished on the ground.

"See, these are the Yaqui men's lives," Death said. His godson begged to be shown his own candle.

"This is your candle," said Death, pointing to one burned not even halfway down.

And Death blew it out.

TODAY'S PARABLE

Thu, 15 Nov 2007 14:49:38 GMT

A mother who had lost her only son went to the man of religion in her village and said: "Is there anything you can give me to reduce the pain that I feel?" "Yes," he said. "There is a wonderful thing you can do. I want you to go and get me a mustard seed from a home that has no problems. Such a mustard seed can ward off all problems. When you find it, bring it to me and I will use it to relieve your pain." So the mother started out and came to a big mansion. Nothing could possibly be wrong here! She knocked on the door, told what she was looking for, and they answered, "You've come to the wrong house." And then they told her all their problems. As she was listening to their problems, she thought, "I know something about problems... Maybe I can help these people with theirs." So she listened to them; and this helped people. She kept on searching for her magic mustard seed. But no matter where she went, she could not find that seed. Everyone everywhere had some kind of troubles. But she really did find the magic mustard seed, because in trying to help others solve their problems, she forgot all about her own.

SUGGESTIONS PLEASE

Fri, 09 Nov 2007 16:26:26 GMT

Since Instspot is getting a facelift, I think my wrinkly old blog needs one too. Nothing too drastic. I would like to get my name off the header. I would like to replace it with a name for the blog. I am not the blog, the readers who comment are! I'm thinking of calling this "KANSAS MEDIOCRITY", in support of my never ending quest for the perfection of mediocrity. But of course I need YOUR input. ~Thanks, Tracy

PANTIES FOR PEACE

Thu, 08 Nov 2007 16:06:51 GMT

SHORT YOUTUBE VIDEO (FAMILY FRIENDLY)

LIFE....BE IN IT!

Wed, 24 Oct 2007 19:14:05 GMT

Dust If You Must

Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better to paint a picture, or write a letter, bake a cake, or plant a seed. Ponder the difference between want and need. Dust if you must, but there is not much time, with rivers to swim and mountains to climb! Music to hear, and books to read friends to cherish and life to lead. Dust if you must, but the world's out there with the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair, a flutter of snow, a shower of rain, this day will not come round again. Dust if you must, but bear in mind, old age will come and it's not kind. And when you go, and go you must, You, yourself, will make more dust!

LOST DOGS AND MIXED BLESSINGS

Sat, 20 Oct 2007 14:43:03 GMT

I Want That One! - As Related By Charles Stanley

I heard a story once about a farmer who had some puppies for sale. He made a sign advertising the pups and nailed it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was nailing the sign to the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down to see a little boy with a big grin and something in his hand. "Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies." "Well," said the farmer, "these puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal." The boy dropped his head for a moment, then looked back up at the farmer and said, "I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?" "Sure," said the farmer, and with that he whistled and called out, "Dolly. Here, Dolly." Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy's eyes danced with delight. Then out from the doghouse peeked another little ball; this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid and began hobbling in an unrewarded attempt to catch up with the others. The pup was clearly the runt of the litter. The little boy pressed his face to the fence and cried out, "I want that one," pointing to the runt.

The farmer knelt down and said, "Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you the way you would like." With that the boy reached down and slowly pulled up one leg of his trousers. In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe. Looking up at the farmer, he said, "You see, sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands."

TODAY'S PARABLE

Tue, 16 Oct 2007 10:35:15 GMT

Who Is The Rich Man?

One day a wealthy father took his son on a trip to the country so that the son could see how the poor lived. They spent a day and a night at the farm of a very poor family. When they got back from their trip, the father asked his son, "How was the trip?" "Very good, Dad!" "Did you see how poor people can be?" "Yeah!" "And what did you learn?" The son answered, "I saw that we have a dog at home, and they have four. We have a pool that reaches to the middle of the garden; they have a creek that has no end. We have imported lamps in the house; they have the stars. Our patio reaches to the front yard; they have the whole horizon." When the little boy was finished, the father was speechless. His son then added, "Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are!"

TODAY'S PARABLE

Fri, 12 Oct 2007 19:00:35 GMT

Make a Difference

Once upon a time there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work. One day he was walking along the shore. As he looked down the beach, he saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself to think of someone who would dance to the day. So he began to walk faster to catch up. As he got closer, he saw that it was a young man and the young man wasn't dancing, but instead he was reaching down to the shore, picking up something and very gently throwing it into the ocean. As he got closer he called out,"Good morning! What are you doing?" The young man paused, looked up and replied, "Throwing starfish in the ocean." "I guess I should have asked, why are you throwing starfish in the ocean?" "The sun is up and the tide is going out. And if I don't throw them in they'll die." "But, young man, don't you realize that there are miles and miles of beach and starfish all along it. You can't possibly make a difference!" The young man listened politely.

Then bent down, picked another starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves and said, "It made a difference for that one."

TODAY'S PARABLE

Tue, 09 Oct 2007 19:51:45 GMT

Carrying and Leaving

Once upon a time, there were two monks who went on a pilgrimage across the country together. One day, they came to a river bank and saw a beautiful girl who was unable to cross the river.

Seeing her difficulty, the elder monk volunteered to carry her across the river on his back while the younger one looked on in consternation.

When the sun went down, the monks came upon a dilapidated shack and decided to stay there for the night. The elder monk quickly fell asleep while the younger one twisted around, unable to calm his mind. Finally, he woke up the elder monk and reprimanded him for what happened during the day, "As monks, we are supposed to keep away from women. I am really ashamed and troubled by what you did today!"

The elder monk looked at his friend and a smile broke up on his face, "Oh, so that has been bothering you! Brother, I have left the girl behind by the river bank, why are you still carrying her around?"

HELLOOOO....IS ANYBODY OUT THERE?

Wed, 05 Sep 2007 09:40:41 GMT

The Mix Tape of the Gods

By TIMOTHY FERRIS San Francisco

THIRTY years ago today, the Voyager 1 space probe — a one-ton robotic craft whose long antennas make it look rather like a spider the size of a school bus — was launched from Cape Canaveral, Fla., on a mission to reconnoiter Jupiter and Saturn. To succeed, Voyager would have to survive five years in the vacuum of space, where it would encounter cosmic rays, solar flares, the hurtling rocks and sand of the asteroid belt, and Jupiter’s intense radiation bands.

The probe did all that, transmitting back reams of scientific data and memorable color photos: of the sputtering red and yellow volcanoes of Jupiter’s moon Io; of the shimmering blue ice that shrouds Io’s fellow satellite Europa, beneath which a liquid ocean is suspected to dwell; of Saturn’s myriad rings and the murky mysteries of its orange satellite, Titan, whose hazy atmosphere is thought to approximate that of the early Earth.

Having accomplished its mission, Voyager 1 might have quietly retired. Instead it remains active to this day, faithfully calling home from nearly 10 billion miles away — so great a distance that its radio signals, traveling at the speed of light, take more than 14 hours to reach Earth. From Voyager’s perch, the Sun is just another star, south of Rigel in the constellation Orion, and the Sun’s planets have faded to invisibility.

Like its twin, Voyager 2 — which dallied behind to examine the outer planets Uranus and Neptune and is departing the solar system on another trajectory — Voyager 1 is approaching the edge of the solar system. That limit is defined by a teardrop-shaped bubble called the heliosphere, where the solar wind (particles blown off the Sun’s outer atmosphere) comes to a halt.

If all continues to go well, Voyager should pierce the heliosphere’s outer skin by around 2015. It will then depart into the void of interstellar space, where it is destined to wander among the stars forever.

Mindful of this mind-boggling fact, the astronomers Carl Sagan and Frank Drake persuaded NASA to attach a gold-plated phonograph record to each of the Voyager spacecraft.

Containing photographs, natural sounds of Earth and 90 minutes of music from all over our world, the record was intended to preserve something of human culture beyond what an intelligent extraterrestrial, encountering the craft at some far-distant time and place, might infer from the spacecraft itself.

The information etched into the grooves of the Voyager record is expected to last at least one billion years. That’s a long time: A billion years ago, life on Earth was first venturing forth from the seas.

Over the past three decades, the gold record has become an article of international curiosity. Spirited discussions continue about what we might do differently if we were making it today. (Having produced the record, I answer that I wouldn’t change much.) At the time, though, the record almost didn’t make it.

NASA officials, worried that Congress would ridicule the record as a waste of public money, had tried to play it down. Press-release photos of the spacecraft almost invariably showed the side opposite to where the record was bolted on, literally hiding it from view.

And after the record was completed, NASA rejected it on technical grounds. Late one night in a New York sound studio, when we’d finished cutting the master, I inscribed the words, “To the makers of music — all worlds, all times,” in the “takeout grooves” next to the label. (The Voyager record is a metal version of the 33 1/3 vinyl records of the day, recorded at half-speed to double its data content. Etching an inscription between the takeout grooves was a trope I’d picked up from John Lennon.) A NASA quality-control officer checked the record against specifications and found that while the record’s size, weight, composition and magnetic properties were all in order, its blueprints made no provision for an inscription.

So the record was rejected as a nonstandard part, and the space agency prepared to replace it with a blank disc. Sagan had to persuade the NASA administrator to sign a waiver before the record could fly.

Forty thousand years will elapse before Voyager 1, departing the realm of the Sun at a speed of 38,000 miles per hour, passes anywhere near another star. (It will drift within 1.7 light years of a dim bulb called AC+79 3888.) And 358,000 years will elapse before Voyager 2 approaches the bright star Sirius.

Out there, our concepts of velocity become provincial. The stars are moving, too, in gigantic orbits around the center of the Milky Way galaxy. Voyager, a toy boat on this dark sea, will not so much approach Sirius as watch it sail by, bobbing in its mighty wake.

Contemplation of Voyager’s billion-year future among the stars may make us feel small and the span of our history seem insignificant. Yet the very existence of the two spacecraft and the gold records they carry suggests that there is something in the human spirit able to confront vast sweeps of space and time that we can only dimly comprehend.

If some recoil from the brink of space, others find it liberating. Our perspective was aptly expressed by the 18th-century science writer Bernard de Fontenelle, in his fictional dialogue “A Plurality of Worlds.” “You have made the universe so large that I know not where I am, or what will become of me,” complains a lovely young marquise whom Fontenelle is tutoring. “I protest it is dreadful.”

“Dreadful, Madam?” Fontenelle replies. “For my part, I am very easy about it.”

TOO LAZY TO WIPE YOUR ASS? HELP AT LAST!

Wed, 29 Aug 2007 16:38:17 GMT

YOUR TOILET TISSUE ALLOCATION, MA’AM – by Jim Hightower

It has taken years of secret research, consultations with focus groups, and trial-and-error engineering work –- but, at last, the corporate scientists have come up with the answer we've all been anxiously awaiting: five sheets.

That's the amount of toilet paper that Kimberly-Clark Corporation has determined that its new product –- the world's first-ever, hands-off, fully-automatic, wonderama, electronic tissue dispenser –- should dole out. Wave a hand in front of one of the device's motion sensors and –- zzzt –- out zips your five-sheet allocation.

A Kimberly-Clark spokesman excitedly says that this gizmo will help the corporation capture the $1 billion a year "away-from-home toilet paper market." Pointing out that washrooms in restaurants, offices, airports, and other places already have automatic faucets, flushers, and towel dispensers, he notes, "the one part of the room where there's not an automatic option is toilet tissue."

Oh, great –- as anyone knows who's been to washrooms in those places, the machinery constantly goes on the fritz, and now they're going to extend this same electronic "convenience" to toilet paper. I think the CEO of Kimberly-Clark should have to list his personal cell phone number on each machine, so we know whom to call when it refuses to give us our five sheets.

By the way, what if you want six sheets? Oh, said the enthusiastic corporate spokesman, "People generally in life will take what you give them." So, Kimberly-Clark is betting that America has devolved from the rebellious spirits of the Boston Tea Party and the Declaration of Independence to a people so compliant that we'll meekly accept whatever amount of toilet tissue our corporate providers allow.

I think that Kimberly-Clark's honchos are in for a surprise. My guess is that this corporation is going to find quite a few of its electronic dispensers ripped from the walls of washroom stalls all across America.

DON'T BE ON A LIST

Mon, 27 Aug 2007 19:50:29 GMT

NATIONAL DO NOT CALL LIST HERE:

https://www.donotcall.gov/default.aspx

OUR GRANDFATHER'S WORLD

Sat, 18 Aug 2007 11:27:42 GMT

The year is 1907.

One hundred years ago.

What a difference a century makes!

Here are some of the U.S. Statistics for the Year 1907:
************************************
The average life expectancy in the U.S. was 47 years old.
Only 14 percent of the homes in the U.S. had a bathtub.

Only 8 percent of the homes had a telephone.

A three-minute call from Denver to New York cost eleven dollars.
There were only 8,000 cars in the US and only 144 miles of paved roads.

The maximum speed limit in most cities was 10 mph.
Alabama, Mississippi, Iowa and Tennessee were each more heavily populated than California. With a mere 1.4 million people, California was only the 21st most populous state in the Union.
The tallest structure in the world was the Eiffel Tower.
The average wage in the U.S. was 22 cents per hour.

The average U.S. Worker earned between $200 and $400 per year.

A competent accountant could expect to earn $2000 per year; a dentist made $2,500 per year; a veterinarian made $1,500 per year; and a mechanical engineer about $5,000 per year.
More than 95 percent of all births in the U.S. took place at HOME.
About 90 percent of all U.S. Doctors had NO COLLEGE EDUCATION. Instead, they attend so-called medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press AND the government as "substandard".
Sugar cost four cents a pound. Eggs were fourteen cents a dozen. Coffee was fifteen cents a pound.
Most women only washed their hair ONCE a month and used Borax or egg yolks for shampoo.
Canada passed a law that prohibited poor people from entering into their country for any reason.
Five leading causes of death in the US were:
1. Pneumonia and influenza
2. Tuberculosis

3. Diarrhea
4. Heart disease

5. Stroke
The American Flag had only 45 stars. Arizona, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Hawaii, and Alaska hadn't been admitted to the Union yet. The population of Las Vegas, Nevada was only 30!
Crossword puzzles, canned beer, and ice tea hadn't been invented yet.

Only 6 percent of all Americans had graduated from High School.

There was no "Mother's Day" or "Father's Day"!

Two out of every 10 US adults couldn't read or write.
Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at the local corner drugstores. Back then the pharmacists said, "Heroin clears the complexion, gives buoyancy to the mind, regulates the stomach and bowels, and is, in fact, a perfect guardian of health.

There were about 230 report Murders in the ENTIRE U.S.A.!

When considering the future, consider this one simple observation, and it’s ramifications for society.

This fact has changed the way we view the world, and the universe….

MOORE’S LAW:
(môrz lâ) (n.) The observation made in 1965 by Gordon Moore, co-founder of Intel.The number of transistors per square inch on integrated circuits had doubled every year since the integrated circuit was invented. Moore predicted that this trend would continue for the foreseeable future.
In subsequent years, the pace slowed down a bit, but data density has doubled approximately every 18 months, and this is the current definition of Moore's Law, which Moore himself has blessed.

Most experts, including Moore himself, expect Moore's Law to hold for at least another two decades.

Searching for the truth while full of vermouth?

Fri, 17 Aug 2007 11:34:24 GMT

About Youtube, blogs, and new media....

August 17, 2007

Op-Ed Contributor

Sip and Spin

By TOM BROKAW

IF this is truly the campaign of the new media, candidates should be required to answer questions only on their cellphone, BlackBerry or other personal digital assistant, so we can size up their personal text message codes, ring tones and thumb-typing skills.

The questioners could be sweaty fat guys muscling people aside as they get off airplanes, shouting loudly into cellphones: “Rudy, I just landed. Can we talk?” “Hillary! Hey! Mike here! Can you hear me? Hello? Hello?”

Calls would have to be routed through Mumbai so the candidates could offer their positions on Islamic rage and inquire about their car insurance rates simultaneously.

In 1992 someone asked me how I would change the presidential debate format. I proposed handing each of the candidates a double martini in the firm belief that would get them beyond their canned answers.

I think in 2007 we can pair up the martini past and the electronic future. How long would Joe Biden talk on a cellphone after knocking back a big Gibson, straight up?

GROUND RULES FOR NEW KANSANS....

Tue, 14 Aug 2007 15:06:15 GMT

1. Pull your droopy pants up. You look like an idiot.

2. Let's get this straight; it's called a "gravel road." I drive a pickup truck because I want to. No matter how slow you drive, you're going to get dust on your Lexus. Drive it or get out of the way.

3. They are cattle. That's what they smell like to you. They smell like money to us. Get over it. Don't like it? I-70 goes east and west, & I-35 goes north and south. Pick one.

4. So you have a $60,000 car. We're impressed. We have $250,000 combines that are driven only 3 weeks a year.

5. So every person in every pickup waves. It's called being friendly. Try to understand the concept.

6. If that cell phone rings while a bunch of ducks are coming in, we WILL shoot it out of your hand. You better hope you don't have it up to your ear at the time.

7. Yeah, we eat catfish & crawfish. You really want sushi & caviar? It's available at the corner bait shop.

8. The "Opener" refers to the first day of deer season. It's a religious holiday held the closest Saturday to the first of November.

9. We open doors for women. That is applied to all women, regardless of age.

10. No, there's no "vegetarian special" on the menu. Order steak. Or you can order the Chef's Salad and pick off the 2 pounds of ham & turkey.

11. When we fill out a table, there are three main dishes: meats, vegetables, and breads. We use three spices: salt, pepper, and Picante Sauce!! Oh, yeah....We don't care what you folks in Cincinnati call that stuff you eat...IT AIN'T REAL CHILI!! Chili was born and bred in Kansas...and real chili never met a tomato!

12. You bring "coke" into my house, it better be brown, wet, and served over ice. You bring "Mary Jane" into my house, she better be cute, know how to shoot, drive a truck, and have long hair.

13. College and high school basketball is important here and fun to watch.

14. Yeah, we have golf courses. But don't hit the water hazards -- it spooks the fish.

15. Colleges? Try Kansas State University, University of Kansas, Wichita State University, or Fort Hays State University. They come outta there with an education plus a love for God and country, and they still wave at passing pickups when they come for the holidays.

THIS IS NOT OUR FATHER'S WORLD

Mon, 13 Aug 2007 09:57:41 GMT

This is a six minute video, text only, with facts about our brave new world. Wrap your mind around a few of these facts.

http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/video/shifthappens