The Sublime Roundabout

I love you Words I need to hear I love you Words I need to say I love you Even though they are just words I love you They contain a universe of feeling and emotion I love you Like rain on a desert land I love you I need you I miss you

I admit that the world I have experienced is thankfully free from this kind of thing. But I know it goes on, more frequently than we care to admit. Even once is too much. No one should feel unsafe in their own home, and no one should feel threatened or violated by their loved ones. This has to stop.

Or, why should it matter that I'm a dude who thinks women deserve better treatment? Interesting, isn't it? I was talking about this with my daughter. She's becoming a very delightful young lady, and I'm consistently impressed with her. I said that men who disregard women are figuratively cutting off one of their arms. Sure, you can still do stuff, but how much more effective are we when everything can work together... However, as I think about it, it's much bigger than an arm. Men who disregard women are cutting off half of their body, half of their heart, and more than half of their soul. Bear with me on this one. People, when they're sick physically, like to describe their ailments in various scales - pain on a scale of one to ten, or a certain percentage of feeling back in good health (I was sick a couple of weeks ago, but now I'm feeling about 95%)... But the maximum any one gender can be in society is 50%. That's the maximum. Women and

So, I recently bought a truck camper (more on that later). In the truck camper, there were several sleeping bags which I asked the guy if he wanted to keep them, but he didn't. There was also a bunch of other swag in the camper that the guy seemed all too happy to be rid of - things like silverware and flashlights and other camping gear. I'm in the gradual process of cleaning the thing out, and there are some other, more major projects that need to be done, but I'm starting out with the bedding, and the sleeping bags were a problem. They'd sat in the sunlight for who knows how long, and the one got pretty damaged: I'm not entirely sure how that happens - it almost looks like it had melted. The fabric, which I'm guessing is either nylon or polyester, was crumbly and flaky. This is what it looked like last night after I'd washed it but before I began my patch job. The sleeping bag is a pretty good quality one, for an inexpensive-tier bag - good sturdy

This is pretty good, actually... :)

So, Saturday we drove out here: That last one is a panoramic image, so you can click it and see a larger image... And this is a little video I took: It was a perfect time of day to be out there. I was a bit concerned as Saturday was pretty gloomy in general. We went and visited the Golden Spike site, then drove the additional ~20 miles out to see this. I'm so glad we did. It was very lovely.

it’s actually technically impossible for a woman to argue against feminism. Without feminism, you wouldn’t be allowed to have a debate on a woman’s place in society … The more women argue loudly against feminism, the more they both prove that it exists and that they enjoy its hard won privileges. Caitlin Moran,  How to Be a Woman

Just a bit of venting on a Sunday morning - although it bugs me every morning... I'm a big dude, although not freakishly so. I'm 6'2" and weigh about 220. It's a good size, and I like it. What I don't like is the way my shirts blouse up at my pants waist. See, I have to wear extra large shirts. This is due largely (pun intended) to my chest and shoulders, as well as my arm length. But the shirts I have found tend to drop straight down from under my arm to my waist, as well as having that weird pleat thing just behind the yoke - you know the one, that travels down the spine about 2" wide... All this extra material ends up blousing up right at my waist. And, while I don't have the trimmest of waists, I don't need extra baggy shirts making it look bigger, either. I found some shirts once that were "sport fit" shirts that didn't do this. They were ok. They were also very difficult to find. So what I do is pull the excess away from

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. — Maya Angelou

 Feminism isn’t about making women stronger. Women are already strong. It’s about changing the way the world perceives that strength.  G.D Anderson

I wonder how much of our lives is intentional, And how much of it is random chance? I know it doesn't really make much difference Life is linear, from birth to death Progressing inexorably from day to day From event to event Some days seem full of meaning and import The birth of a child The passing of a loved one A goal achieved A new day begun But I wonder, as I ponder How much of life is intentional And how much is just random chance... Regardless, each moment has meaning And it is in that meaning I find great joy

I know there is much about Mormon Doctrine and/or culture that is difficult. There have been issues in the past, and too many issues continue to this day. I am not ignorant of these things - although I admit that they are both filtered by my own experience,  as well as perhaps a general lack of experience or information about some things. But there are some things that are laudable and good, and this article highlights one of them: http://civileats.com/2015/01/20/as-you-sow-so-shall-you-reap-mormons-and-the-land/ I very much appreciate the tenor of this article - it is well-researched and positive, presenting a model for how things could work. I've had the opportunity to participate in many different Church Welfare programs, both as a recipient and benefactor as well as a volunteer. In Utah we worked peach orchards; in Texas, there was a peanut butter factory (which is just as yummy as it sounds!); we weren't in Oregon long enough to participate in the pear harvest there; a

The walls that are there Are for defense They were built slowly Over the course of years As a way to keep out Those who constantly hurt Their words like swords Cut to the quick So you cannot say Like Reagan to Gorbachev Tear down this wall Because inside Inside Is my soul And you say you don't want to spend Eternity With someone who has walled Himself in But it is you who has made these walls One stone at a time One slice at a time Besides You wouldn't know what to do With another's soul If they gave it to you.

It was the “sheepherder” and “woolhead” that stilled his alarm. The truth was, she felt remarkably nice sitting there. But she was Min, who thought he was a country boy with hay in his hair and not very much common sense. “Light, Min, I know you’re a woman. I didn’t mean any insult. You’re a friend, too. It’s just that I feel comfortable with you. It doesn’t matter if I look like a fool with you. I can say things to you I wouldn’t say to anybody else, not even Mat or Perrin. When I am around you, all the knots unwind, all the tightness in my shoulders I don’t even feel till it goes. Do you see, Min? I like being around you. I’ve missed you.” ... Rand could not help laughing. “Min, it really is good to have you here. All you see is a mudfoot from the Two Rivers, isn’t it?” Her mood changed lightning quick. “I see you, Rand,” she said, strangely quiet. “I see you.” Robert Jordan - Lord of Chaos

After a year in therapy, my psychiatrist said to me, 'Maybe life isn't or everyone.' ― Larry Brown, Big Bad Love

I feel the love within me Like the great wellsprings Of the earth Pushing, gushing forward In great gouts of Pure, clean, and life-sustaining Clear waters I love you I love you And I love you I can no easier stop Than a feather could stop the flow From the spring And why would I want to, anyway? Yes, loving another is precarious Anxious and hurtful But it is also miraculous Joyous and bright And it makes me feel alive

Guy is a genius. :D The Daily Show Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes , The Daily Show on Facebook , Daily Show Video Archive

http://news.yahoo.com/dear-mitt-romney--shake-it-off-221536652.html ... but do not take it seriously. It's satire. It's not even really clever, subtle satire. But the opening paragraph scares me. Please, Mitt. Do yourself a favor and ask your bishop for a service mission opportunity somewhere. A grateful nation would love you forever.

The activity of art is based on the fact that a man, receiving through his sense of hearing or sight another man's expression of feeling, is capable of experiencing the emotion which moved the man who expressed it. To take the simplest example; one man laughs, and another who hears becomes merry; or a man weeps, and another who hears feels sorrow. A man is excited or irritated, and another man seeing him comes to a similar state of mind. By his movements or by the sounds of his voice, a man expresses courage and determination or sadness and calmness, and this state of mind passes on to others. A man suffers, expressing his sufferings by groans and spasms, and this suffering transmits itself to other people; a man expresses his feeling of admiration, devotion, fear, respect, or love to certain objects, persons, or phenomena, and others are infected by the same feelings of admiration, devotion, fear, respect, or love to the same objects, persons, and phenomena. And it is upon this c

http://tinyurl.com/pr38hd9 I find this kind of thing interesting and amusing. I don't sit like this. I really don't. I'd never heard the word "manspreading" before, although I am familiar with the concept. It's fascinating to me that people (usually men) think that they need that much space. Or that they deserve to take it from another (usually a woman). I read elsewhere that a woman walked down the sidewalk for a day and did not yield her position (kept walking instead of moving to the side) like men usually seem to do. She said she ran in to 9 people. These people must have expected her to get out of the way, and were probably surprised that she didn't - that she expected them to move out of her way. The "manspreading" I can understand a bit. Men have body parts that do not necessarily lend themselves to having one's knees close together while sitting. While this has never been a problem for me, at least anatomically I can underst

So, there's some theory out there about a hierarchy of needs. I'm not sure what it's called, but the basic premise is that some things, some needs, are more basic or fundamental than others. The most immediate need is air, which is the thing without which you cannot live for the shortest period of time. If you suffocate, you die quickly. Next would be water and food, followed by clothing and shelter. Although, on a day like today here in the lovely Wasatch Back, clothing and shelter may be a more immediate need (it's a wintry day out there, folks!). These needs are then succeeded in this hierarchy by things like affection, interaction, social experiences, etc. Not necessarily less important, but maybe just less immediate. This morning I read this: http://finance.yahoo.com/news/resort-towns-working-class-squeezed-142809570.html This, of course, is nothing new. But the attitude of the folks towards the end of the article is what I find troubling. The flippant resp

I wrote a couple of weeks ago about what is going on with oil prices and why. I just came across this graph that shows something I hadn't considered: With oil prices around $46 barrel, many of these countries are going to find significant deficits. Of course, it could be a deferred - pay now, play later - kind of mentality, but it could also be very risky if the prices do not turn around soon. If this is how governments finance their budgets, including social programs and general funds, it could lead to stronger austerity measures in places where things have been fairly sunny of late. Very interesting.

I haven't been feeling well the last couple of days. It seems that there's a sickness going around and I've caught it. :( It occurs to me that people who are well have little sympathy for those who are ill, especially if the illness lingers longer than the well person has patience. Sigh. I hope I feel better tomorrow.

"Bleed Out" Close my eyes Feel you sigh A desperate aching wonder Will you ever, ever let me off my knees? Wide awake Like a dream As simple as a secret Being told, told to everyone but me Will I Bleed out I gave it all But you can't stop taking from me And way down I know  You know where to cut me  With your eyes closed  Bleed out  It won't be long til this heart stops beating  So don't let me bleed out here alone  Hear my plea you won't hear my plea  Sudden rain  Coming down  It all comes back to me  Waking up, falling down  Another day  Come undone  I keep trying to heal your pain  In return, you cut me over and over  One more time and I will  Bleed out  I gave it all  But you can't stop taking from me  And way down I know  You know where to cut me  With your eyes closed  Bleed out  It won't be long til my heart stops beating  So don't let me  Don't leave me bleeding alone  I finally feel like

There's been much in the media of late regarding the shift in politics from blue to red. The electorate has sent the strongest (reddest?) message in years, and everyone is trying to understand what it might mean. This morning I read this article: http://www.nytimes.com/2015/01/04/opinion/sunday/is-life-better-in-americas-red-states.html?partner=rss&emc=rss It's a fascinating (if liberal-slanted) view on what it means for the future of our country. This month's Governing magazine has several articles describing the extent of the changes, from state and gubernatorial shifts to the altering of the make up of the Congress. The question I have is why does it matter? Traditionally liberal states like California, New York, etc. have continued to prosper since the downturn, and traditionally conservative states like Utah, Texas, and Georgia, have done well also. So how much does politics really matter? Can a government legislate itself into prosperity - by either loose reg

... I mean, really, really hot. These pumps, crafted by Mexican designer Lucita Abarca, caused quite a stir at a recent Sixth Borough fashion show. These crystalline high-heels were grown by Wyrm’s Pass artisans, deep below the Rocky Mountains, using a mixture of firebird ash, waters from the springs at Paradiso, and a variety of secret ingredients, rumored to include Australian fire opals and powdered moonstone. The result of using the firebird ash become immediately recognizable when the heel of the shoe is dragged backward across any dry surface, as it creates an impressive streak of magical fire which can be accurately aimed with a little effot. Ms. Abarca said she wanted a shoe that made a statement, and that statement was “Any bastardo brujo catcalling me on La Plaza de Sangre better be ready to dose his huevos, you know?”

I have wanted to adopt since I can remember. I feel like I'm a fairly decent father, and having more children around in my home is something that I've always (!) desired. However, I'm not the only partner in the parenting gig in my house. I didn't (don't) really understand what the issue is. This morning I read this: http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-30692127 I understand that it's a social/cultural thing. I get that. But it is still difficult.

1 The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; 2 To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn; 3 To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes , the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified. Isaiah 61:1-3 Life is hard. It is infinitely harder when I add to it my own mistakes and weaknesses. Things I want turn out poorly, in spite of my best efforts or desires. And I hurt people I love with all my heart, giving lie to that love, making it seem cheap or fickle or facile. Sometimes I am my own worst critic. The Lord promises to forgive and not remembe

“Her dark eyes alone were enough to make a man give up his soul.” Robert Jordan - The Fires of Heaven