Michael Moore is so awesome. Go check out grassroots to read his latest observations on life in these (dis)united states.

Barnes and Noble.com has pissed me off. Stay away from their out of print book department; they have been giving me the run-around on a book for the past two months. They have gone so far as to send me invalid e-mail addresses to send my complaints to; made a series of unkept promises, and still no book. If you're looking for something out of print, Alibris is more reliable, it seems.

Would anyone out there be able to recommend any brands of clove cigarettes? I have tried Sampoerna, Nat Sherman's, and Djarum. The Sherman's have hardly any clove taste to them at all; much too bitter as far as I'm concerned. I haven't had a Sampoerna for a file; I remember being a little harsh but definitely clove-y. The Djarum brand is by far my favorite. They have a whole asortment of varieties; they produce two called Splash and Bali Hai which, admittedly, seemed to be aimed at guys in their late teens/early 20's based on the light blue package and images of fish and surfers and whatnot. Packaging aside, both of these varieties have a good, sweet flavor and a nice consistency. My favorite, at the moment, is a line called Djarum Black; these are a little more rich and give off a pleasant aroma whilst burning so slowly that my friends can smoke two regular cigarettes in the time it takes to smoke my one clove.
Supposedly cloves are worse for you, although to me it seems a toss-up. Especially when one considers that cloves generally burn longer (requiring fewer overall to be lit up) and seem (by my observation, which I can't substantiate with any scientific evidence) to be less addictive.

On a lighter note...nothing better than ritz crackers and jelly. Yum!

The death penalty is only a deterrent for people who are rational and have a sense of their own mortality. I think that it is time to explore new ways of punishing people in our society. It is also time to stop punishing people who do no harm to others, but only (debatably) to themselves.
Gangbangers should be forced to dig graves--they wouldn't get a good shovel, either, they'd have to use a little garden shovel. (Obviously they couldn't be sent out to dig actual graves for people; the grave-diggers union would have a fit). When they were done they would have to lay in the grave for 8 hours or so. They wouldn't be allowed to get out of the hole for any reason. After the time was up, they would have to fill in the hole. People who, in the past, would have been eligible for the death penalty could be dealt with in other ways: They could be airlifted to the south pole and dropped there. If they find a way to survive, good for them. If they freeze to death in 24 hours, well, tough shit. If you're blood runs cold enough to kill in the first place, then a deep freeze shouldn't be such a bother. Oh, I suppose this is still a death sentence, and maybe it's cruel and unusual punishment. But people who are murdered don't generally ask to be killed, do they? An alternative to the death sentence might be something that sounds even more bizarre--ship the murderers up to the moon. Use them as labor to build a moon colony. Hey, it worked for Australia, right? See, just take the prositutes and people who got caught with a bit of pot out of the jails, and send a few of the losers up to the moon, and pretty soon we'll be able to stop building new jails every week.
Right. I'm not usually so political. It's just a hot topic lately, it seems.

What is the fastest thing in the universe? The speed with which your bright ideas disappear right out of your mind.

A thought--if men got pms the world would have been nuked into oblivion a long time ago. [sorry if that sounds sexist or anything, but do you really disagree?]

Ah, there is nothing more fun than filling out financial aid forms. Except perhaps for shoveling elephant dung, or watching reruns of Rosanne, or attempting to build a fire with twigs, rocks, and paper cups, or wrestling with the moral and philosophical questions surrounding genetic manipulation. Yep.

Hey, if you are in any way responsible for staff development in technology in a school district, drop me a line. I'm always looking to share ideas or hear new ones. Check here for an idea of what I do in my district. I can be reached at
badrozd@sd104.s-cook.k12.il.us

Chicago radio and my personal re-emergence as an advertising target marget: Chicago radio sucks. The supposed "alternative" station, Q101, plays music for 16 year-old boys to commit senseless acts of road rage to. Meanwhile, all of the car commercials on TV seem to be playing songs from 1992. (And if one more advertiser uses the Soup Dragons cover of "I'm Free", I'll puke. And I won't even touch the economic irony inhernet there). Ah, if only I could seize control of the airwaves for a day...

Obscure Greek and Roman gods: Atlas held up the world. Another god ran in place, spinning the world as he ran. Since Nike is already taken, we'll call him Bono. There was a god who used a large needle to poke holes in the black sky, creating new points of light that the humans referred to as "stars". Then there was goddess (whose name is lost) who would shape the clouds; sometimes when she was displeased with her work she would squeeze them dry (rain) and start again. Her reach was long but not entire, hence the areas of desert around the world.

What I do: I am a Technology Coordinator for a K-8 school district. No, wait, it's not as glamorous as it sounds. It's a stressful, overworked, underpaid type of position. Yeah, typical. I'm not complaining. I like my job. I'd like it more if they gave me a big fat raise, but hey, who else wouldn't say that?
When I'm not in the mood to work, I'll visit MozillaZine or Suck.

Author recommendation: If you haven't read anything by Jonathan Carroll, you're missing out.

Music recommendation: The band: National Skyline. The lineage: Hum, Castor, cross reference: Champaign-Urbana. Their eponymous disc now available through Parasol Records. A moody, uplifting, too short effort from this side project that eclipses the recent work of its' "parents". Organic synthesizers and a voice so imperfectly matched to the tone of the music that it functions as carrier wave all its' own. I haven't acquired a disc so worthy of the repeat button in a while, but this one definitely merits it.

Story idea: A man who lives his life entirely according to percentages. He has studied the numbers, knows the odds of any particular event happening. He knows that he has a 1 in 975 chance of stumbling over any particular crack in the sidewalk. He knows the odds of being struck by a car, knows that he has a 1 in 460 chance of being infertile. He lives his life this way, going so far as to woo his wife through the use of gifts, compliments, and actions that he knows have the best odds of pleasing her. He raises his children this way, choosing everything from their breakfast cereal to their sneakers to their schools in this fashion, and he knows they will be healthy and graduate in the top 2% of their class. He even knows, within 3 weeks, when he will die.
There are no revelations for this man; his nature has discarded such a possibility outright. He has faith, but only in situations where the odds favor it. He can predict your future as well as any fortune teller, but he generally won't; odds are that he can't make a living that way.
He won't find a way out. Maybe someone will give him one, though...

Where I work: Cook County School District #104, and, Where I sometimes play: Amp Comics.

First official post--Alright, I finally got this thing to work. Welcome to the diary of the vortex. From time to time I will toss my rants, raves, insecurities, small victories, and jalapeno dip recipes out here for the world to wonder at. If any of it makes sense, well, small miracles are happening all the time, all around us...if we only stop long enough to notice them.