Step one: play me a sad song

Rinse and repeat.

If you're trudging you ass through it, you're allowed to complain. If you've safely crossed the chasm of doom, you're allowed to complain. But if you've done neither and instead slinked away to destroy instead of create, then I'm not sure where you get the nerve put yourself in the same league of intellectuals, let alone complain about how it wasn't your fault because everybody was mean to you.

To get through a reputable engineering program, you've got to have a few friends and an extra gear in the tranny. Ask any graduate, it's the 'nut up and do your work, bitch!' gear. And its got to be there or you're just spinning the tires.

Think about it, why do we hold democracy up on pedestal? It’s not our method of governance. The United States is a constitutional republic. Most high powered government officials are democratically elected, but that does not make us a democracy.

Oh, so by "democracy" you actually meant ‘some government that isn’t communism or a dictatorship because those are bad’. I’m also assuming the reason you like ‘democracy’ (we’ll just use that as a code word for your idea of good government from now on okay?) is that once upon a time, someone told you that your government was a democracy, and all in all things seem pretty swell so democracy must be a pretty good deal.

If you’ll grant me the premise that words matter, I believe I can ring a bell upstairs and get you thinking beyond 3rd grade history class.

Democracy means the people rule, literally, that’s the translation from Greek to English. The translation doesn’t say how, why, when, or even who exactly the ‘people’ are; but what can you expect from a single word? It’s a quality word linguistically, and to incorporate an entire system of government into a single word would be so undoubtedly awkward that I’m perfectly okay with its brevity. That’s generally the problem with –ism’s and –cracy’s, they are entirely too vague to stay bottled up with what they actually mean for much longer than whoever first thought them up manages to hang around. Without some sort of check on its use, any reference word use to describe the suitable use of governmental controls will eventually come to be used in a manner contrary to its actual meaning. Not unlike certain ceded authorities to which they refer.

And there’s the rub, without checks on power every government is doomed the same fate. Initial success and ultimate demise rooted in the abuses of power. In the long run, what matters isn’t who has the power; it’s how much power can be had.

That’s why when attributing the success of this country to its form of government, which is a perfectly valid exercise, you should use the correct terminology. It’s a constitutional republic. That is, a government in which individuals representing the people govern within the powers granted to them by the constitution. The representatives are elected simply because that is the best way to keep them in tune with what the people want.

The truth is, we would all be better off living in a Constitutional-anything than a pure democracy. Theocracy, monarchy, oligarchy, dictatorship, hippy-commune…anything. As long as there are strict and defined limits to power, the rest is just semantics. I’m willing to concede the point that within this context; a constitutional-oligarchy would be no utopia, and that my entire line of reasoning is based on a frame of government that is both restrictive and observed, and that democratically elected leaders are more likely to bring prosperity to their countries. Blah, Blah, Blah. The point remains that ‘democracy’ gets the hype for the success that clear constraints on governmental oversight provides.

So while the rest of the world deludes themselves into believing in ‘democracy’, singing the praises of free elections, and focusing on how many time the word ‘Islam’ appears in the Iraqi constitution. I’m hoping their new founding fathers choose establish their government in line with the Magna Carta and the U.S. Constitution. Firmly establish the limits of power, and success as a nation will surely follow.

On the rare occasion that I have to leave South Wichita, I will often find myself in the suburban area known as North West Wichita. Borders, Chipolte, Panera Bread, Old Navy, these stores are commonplace, as are their mega-strip mall habitats. I can understand the fundamental appeal of these stores; they signify ones status in life. By purchasing slightly overpriced goods from chipper girls in their early 20’s named Courtney, Ashley, or Desiree, you proudly show your middle-class colors. My principal concern is the overwhelming cookie cutter look of these areas.

It is easy to imagine that you could swap these sections of town any one of hundreds of others all over country. Upscale housing developments with dozens of like 2.5 story houses surrounding man-made lakes, 24-hour drug stores, and faux garden with newly planted trees and neatly kept bushes swimming in a sea of cedar mulch and not-so-wild rabbits. All of the signs and promotional items are half-size to big to be believed, it’s much like navigating the winding pathways of a theme park, where advertisements and signs become self-serving as attraction unto themselves without actually making an impression upon that which they represent.

There is nothing unique about these places. The parking lots are dominated by SUV’s with honor roll bumper stickers. The stores all have plastic shopping carts, and are alive with the sounds of the Dave Matthews Band.

An entire generation of adults who grew up in the first suburbs back in the 50’s and 60’s are attempting to show that they have more style and sophistication than their parents. So everybody visits the same shops, buys the same chic ornaments from Pier 1, and drinks the same double-mocha Venti latte on the way a 3:30 appointment with their Edward Jones guy.

This isn’t some rail against the suburban blight destroying our local communities. I would hope we’re all smarter than that. I’m not pissed at the big-box retailers who create and inhabit these areas; I’m pissed at the people who refuse to accept that the bill of goods they are being sold is wrapped up in exactly what it says it isn’t. The defiant nature of this culture when paired with the raw indignation of the ‘buy local’ crowd has produced a muddled set of talking points that only succeeds in being a pox on both houses of ideals. Ultimately, in a battle of the lesser of the two ‘self-‘ evils, I’ll take parody over righteousness, because you can’t enjoy food of any kind with a log in your eye, let alone a delicious Chipotle burrito.

The inner writer in me often laments the filter that exists between myself and the inspectors writing tags and reporting problems into our computer system. Their attempts as explanation are often as vague as they are nonsensical. Somewhere along the line engineers must have complained because there is an entire layer of approval between the shop and the engineer dedicated to getting detailing the problem and correct all misspellings and incorrect part numbers. If the eyes of the skies weren’t chronicling my every move I could unleash some class III hilarity on this place and lighten everyone’s mood. But alas, with the public safety at stake there are many, many FAA regulations against having your cake and eating it to.

As I was sitting here, in my living room, watching C-SPAN, when I came to the very real conclusion that no more than a small fraction of the citizenry of the United States have both seen anything that happens in congress and possess the ability to think.

It's always a pair of congressmen speaking in metaphor and adding amendment upon amendment channeling federal pork back to the home state. They go through the motions of parliamentary procedure, and prattle on without making any real point. It would all be quite boring if I didn't revel in the stupidity of others.

I’m the only straight man in the world who is psyched for the release of 'Rent' the movie.

525,600 minutes!

Okay, it's time to accept the reality that I live in the not-so-nice part of Wichita. Not the ghetto exactly, it's Wichita so there really is no ghetto, but definitely not nice. A few minutes ago I was given the opportunity, by one of my neighbors, to purchase some surround sound speakers, pornographic videotapes, and a porn star. All of which I’m not entirely sure was his property.

And I figure when you've been offered a deal on stolen 2nd-hand pornography, you’re not living in the greatest part of anywhere.

I find it vaguely amusing when shop mechanics suggest repairs to me. It gives me a better understand of how far I’ve come in the understanding of structural analysis. They ones that have been here for a long while can accurately predict what repairs the engineers will tell them to do most of the time. The amusing ones are the new guys, the ones that suggest things like, “I can’t fit these 14 steel pins where they are supposed to go, Can I just glue those pieces together?” and “I think that piece is cracked, but it’s trapped between two other parts so it’ll be okay right?” or even, “My part was too big, so I used a hammer to make it fit”

The seasoned engineers have learned discretion and express their displeasure with frustrated scowls. My first instinct is to blatantly laugh and mock these suggestions. Discretion is not something I’m real good at.

For Val, my good friend who left this morning for grad school at Ohio State, and whom I will not see again until Christmas.

All the diamonds in this world
That mean anything to me
Are conjured up by wind and sunlight
Sparkling on the sea

I ran aground in a harbour town
Lost the taste for being free
Thank God He sent some gull-chased ship
To carry me to sea

Two thousand years and half a world away
Dying trees still grow greener when you pray

Silver scales flash bright and fade
In reeds along the shore
Like a pearl in a sea of liquid jade
His ship comes shining
Like a crystal swan in a sky of suns
His ship comes shining

-Bruce Cockburn, All the Diamonds In The World

Since this country was founded we have been battling about the role of government in the lives of its most vulnerable citizens. The great thinkers and leaders of each generation waged high holy debate upon one another in the court of public opinion. This countries citizenry, torn between two seemingly moral imperatives; the guilt of wanting to help those less fortunate, and the overwhelming fear of getting scammed have always struggle with what the right thing to do was. We long to help our fellow man but don't want to enable the less fortunate to stay that way.

In most manners pertaining to government, the balance is mandated in the form of taxes. We have to help others, but not too much. Nobody is happy, but nobody is launching a rebellion, and there is only so much you can hope for in situations as such.

How ever this moral dilemma comes back to face those who consider donate to the survivors of disasters like 9/11, the tsunami, Katrina, etc... As isolated incidents they may seem random unpredictable disasters, acts of god or madmen, but looking through brown tinted glasses we can make an objection observation about the nature of selfless giving.

By consistently showing compassion and exhibiting our selfless acts of goodwill we inadvertently, if ever so slightly, change the way people feeling about owning land and buildings in areas with higher likelihoods of natural or man-made disasters. If the survivors of these events are bailed out financially, then the nation as a whole will lose their fear of financial loss due to these events. That means there will be more building in unstable and unsafe environments, meaning there will be more refugees when the next big one hits. The pattern goes on long enough and soon the rich and famous are building developments in the middle of the north Atlantic and waiting for million dollar bailouts when they've 'lost everything'.

Since human compassion is (thankfully) not going out of style anytime soon, the only deterrents to such absurd decision-making are inconvenience and health. Neither of which the compassion of a citizenry can truly fix. So it appears a mangled and slow relief effort may be the only viable deterrent. Maybe if we botch it enough, people won't rely on other to bail out their bad choices.

In a better world, the government would manage crisis simply and quickly, all those can be saved are, and loss of life and limb is limited. But we don’t play default insurance agency for those who fail to prepare. Since this isn’t happening any time soon, we find ourselves in this sad state of affairs. When the only chance at promoting responsible living choices is a hack job manager getting in the way of human kindness.

I have this reoccurring horrible fear that I will trip on the stairs dividing my living and dining rooms and accidentally stab myself with a steak knife. That's one of the worst parts about being alone, bad things could happen to you and nobody would find out for days.

I handled the entire Sovereign line by myself tonight. Mark took a 3 day weekend, which left me as the master of all that I survey. I like to think that I handled it all smoothly, and that there were no hangs up, but the casual observer would probably suggest that my work rate would not compare favorably to that of chilled old timey pancake syrup on a frosted winter’s eve. At least I didn’t break any airplanes and the factory didn’t burn down. What more to you want of an understudy?

Can we all just admit that we're only allowing Tim Burton to make movies because we're afraid of what might hapeen if he turned his morbid attention elsewhere.

We are coming up now on 4 full years since Rob spilled mountain dew on my TI-89 and the keys still stick a bit.

I just spent the last 4 hours of my work day attempting to solve Cessna’s IT problems. It started after supper, when I was enjoying one of the first network outages I’ve experienced that actually prevented me from doing work. It was great, for the first time I wasn’t running around mad crazy trying to bring the system back up. It was great, that is, for the 1st hour. After that the outage was cramping the offices ability to function. All of our systems are networked based, so we could neither find out about nor solve any problems. So I reluctantly was pushed in to service. The Textron systems are buttoned up pretty tight, so attempting to pseudo-administrate without the all-power administrator access was a bit tricky and required deployment of the tricks of the trade. I have since deduced that the problem is either a hub/server somewhere with an intermittent mechanical connection, or a system stuffed with test packets bouncing back and forth.

I’m betting on the overloaded system, and that a hard reboot of the offending distribution points would stop all this nonsense. But without knowing where all the hardware is stored (it’s not in any of the closets I broke into accidentally looked in), I can’t solve this problem. But I’m okay with that, because it’s somebody else’s problem, not mine.

Events have been set in motion that should eventually find me with an indestructible tank of a home multimedia management center all dressed up as a PC, and the enviable position of being the subject of a slash dot post.

It'll take months and a bit of luck, but by our powers combined, the Mooch and all will be victorious.

Step away from CNN for a few minutes, and recognize this:

Kayne West has perhaps the largest cheeks in the world. Seriously, what does he store there? Cotton Balls, extra food for the long winter, what?

There are striking similarities between Sororities and Labor Unions. They both list their primary accomplishments as tangible benefits, when in fact their primary purpose is altruistic in nature. The both like to think they are way more important to their members’ well being than they actually are. And the both make patently ridiculous pointless t-shirts. Sororities get the most crap for it, but Unions make t-shirts for their workers at least 5 times a year, and they're not nearly as creative as 19-year-old girls.

The rules for the 2006 SAE Aero Design competition came out yesterday, and yes I’ve already read them cover to cover. I’m totally amped about it all even though I am in no way involved with this year’s team. How is it possible that like an athlete past his prime, I am longing for my glory days of competition?

Some how my subconscious has yet to realize that I’m not in college anymore and I that don’t participate in student competitions. I get to play with multi-million dollars airplanes everyday, so why am I obsessed with a dinky RC plane?

I’ve even manage to free hand sketch out a design that would work really well. All of this is serving to undermine my decision to take the easy money and forgo full-time grad school. Had I stayed back at KU, I would have all kinds of time, resources, and knowledge to pour into the project. I would have had a real chance to win the competition, to be beloved by the entire department, and the school of engineering. I would have gotten a degree in half the time it will now take me.

But, it’s unhealthy to let a single activity like that rule your life for any extended period of time. It cost me 4 months of sanity the first time around, and I’m still haven’t fully recovered. Imagine how difficult it would be to leave after 2 and a half years.

Also, I would be making less than 1/3 of what I am now.

Yes, I still made the correct decision, but it wasn’t as straight forward as I though at the time.