Monday, May 15, 2006

[3]

I've been wondering for awhile why hummingbirds don't suffer from hummingbird scurvy. Or wing rickets. Or something. There can't be many nutrients in nectar, and there damn well isn't any in the sugar water put in feeders.

Apparently, hummingbirds eat insects as well, having evolved from insectivores. Dude, I totally want a hummingbird that flits around my head at dinner parties, consuming mosquitoes, gnats, and flies while periodically drinking sugarwater from a decorative flower in my lapel. Now I can finally stop using OFF! ® as a deodorant.

I smell like a campsite.

Hummingbird's insect catching beaks
Simple sugars absorb directly into hummingbird's bloodstream

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

[2]

bro: "Are any Burger King's around here?"
me: "Up your ass."
bro: "Yeah, in a few minutes."
bro: ((looks online))
bro: "Man, the internet is so tight!"
me: "Why?"
bro: "Well, before I'd have to...you know...wander aimlessly."

Saturday, July 09, 2005

[1]

I finished this book from the ASU library today. The title is, The Making of Maleness: Men, Women, and the Flight of Daedalus. The author, Peter Tathum, uses the mythological character Daedelus as a framework for bringing together Jungian archetypes and analytical psychology to examine the male gender from a male perspective. The purpose is not to reach objective conclusions regarding men or their place in society, but rather to guide the assumptive male reader in re-evaluating his own identity for his own purposes. One of the themes is moving men away from the conquering, violent hero as a model for behavior/personality, and towards other roles, such as that of the expert craftsman.

I originally picked this book up because I felt and still feel that I'm dreaming someone else's dream. Someone's violent dream of conquest, revenge, or overwhelming martial prowess. I'm not a warrior. I just read a lot of fiction. It seems that whenever one crosses into sci-fi/fantasy, all male protaganists are cast in the image of an autocratic monarch, or a killer of one kind or another. Obviously there are exceptions, but when we as a culture put ourselves in dream worlds, the initial theme for men is that of control and destructive power, however it is justified.

Perhaps this is the nature of titillating fiction. Reading about crafting a mandolin is not exactly what gets us off. Is this because there are only certain subjects which can give us that self-important adrenaline high, or because our imagination has stagnated?

Either way, I want to move away from that. I want be thrilled by my own dreams.