This is a pelican trip, triplet. Actually it is the same pix. I took the last pix in this sequence, with the smaller pelicans, and cropped and blew it up twice.
I also conducted a little experiment here. All three of these pixs are in gif format. Usually a pix get jpeg. But I processed the pixs in both gif and jpeg and couldn't tell the difference. If you can get away with gif, it is suppose to be better, because the format uses less disk space. If there is not a lot of contrast in the snap and the snap size is rather small use gif.
Our first day in Charleston, S. C., we went to Folly Beach. In our meanderings amongst the dunes, we came upon a pair of pelicans. Unfortunately, the pair made their majestic escape before I could get my camera out.
We liked Folly Beach so much we went again the next day. We were sitting in the sand, absorbing the welter of the waves, when suddenly eagle eyed Plum got excited, "Look!! Look!!"
Coming down the beach, about 30 feet overhead, was - a trinity, a trinity, we want a trinity - a pelican triplet. I frantically groped for my camera and snap, snap, got two snaps off.
i am the legendary gonzo digital photographer - robert "d" snaps. i recently did a 200 plus photo shoot of music midtown. you can check it out at http://exit6.home.attbi.com .
so ok it was my first shoot and web site and it was just so/so, but no one else was out there snapping everyday.
what do i want??
just heard on the radio that oasis is going to be doing their thing at the tabernacle on aug. 5th. i will be there. i was hoping that someone there would say why not and tell me how to get a press pass and back stage and stuff. i have some great ideas for the oasis shoot that will take everything over the top.
remember - smile and if you are really lucky you might even get snapped out by ...robert "d"
(obiter dictum : i need the assistance of an english geek. is it really lucky or real lucky? oh and the why and everything would be appreciated.)
"Wag like "wag" the dog, halsig like "hall-sick.""
To those who have been initiated, to those who have come before me, ex ante, waghalsing is enough for them to know that i am kindred. It is enough for them to know what i have done and where I have been.
Scattered amongst the tickets and thorns, scattered amongst the ruins of this journal, are many waghalsigs, menetoes of journeys taken and not forgotten.
What does the above mean?
I am reading The Constant Gardener by John Le Carre. The quaint and curious German term waghalsig plays an important role in the roman. I have come across waghalsig no where else. To those acquainted with The Constant Gardener, the use of waghalsig is a trigger that I have read the book.
But now we have a small dilemma. Waghalsig has taken on the mantle of the dual. For now when the reader winks and walks into the night, we can not be sure if he is aquainted with this entry or The Constant Gardener, or - a trinity, a trinity, we want a trinity - both.
They are starting to pop up everywhere - XML & XHTML. I did a little research today on exactly what all the hype is about.
It seems a big mistake was made with HTML. It is too easy. Almost anyone can understand it. There are too many rouge webs out there. Something has to be done about it.
Solution - Let's make lots of software obsolete and coding a real pain in the butt.
How? - XML & XHTML.
For the individual web designer there is little to no benefit in employing XML or XHTML. What can you do with these new mantras that you can't do with HTML? Nothing.
Here is the real reason it is being hyped.
"Today's market consists of different browser technologies, some browsers run internet on computers, and some browsers run internet on mobile phones and hand helds. The last-mentioned do not have the resources or power to interpret a "bad" markup language."
To hook everything up a cleaner and more structured code is needed. Unfortunately, cleaner and more structured, always means pain in the butt, unless you are ultra geeky.
There is nothing one can do to stop it. There is too much money involved. But at least in some small way we can each try to impede the rate of change.
I have been struggling for the last couple of months. Every movement of my cursor was a strain. It was like my track ball was stuck in mud. I was doing the one, two, fuck it. My brain would say left. My wrist would oblige. But my cursor would just sit there mocking me. My, once, quasi state of the art mouse, had slowly transformed into a piece of shit.
I finally bought a new mouse today. Althought it's not wireless, it still exploits optical technology. Optical just means that instead of a little ball, a sensor determines the position of your cursor.
I got it home. I plugged it in. Wow!!!!
From the very first touch I felt like I was floating. From the very first touch I was in love. It is like the cursor is a direct extention of my mind. Will it so and it is such, effortlessly.
Do yourself a big favor. If you haven't bought a new mouse in the last year or so, don't wait, buy one tomorrow.
We did the beaches during the day and as the sun sunk into the sea, we made ready for the treasures of the evening.
I had already showered and such and was reclining, like a king, on the bed, sipping a magic elixir, and watching something awful on MTV.
Plum finally came out of the bathroom. She was all dewy and fresh and looked so cute. She had a towel wrapped around her luscious curves and another in that girlie turban style on her head.
Plum still wasn't dressed, but I didn't care. I knew the evening was ours for the beckoning.
Plum started rummaging around in the drawers and the closet and her bags - here, there, and then back again. She was looking for something but what?
The what turned out to be a pink Victoria Secret's bra she had worn the night before. No, she wasn't going to wear the bra again. She just wanted to know where it was. It was part of a set. She showed me the pink panties. She really liked the bra because it only had two hooks in the back. And on and on. She was now also convinced, with the logic that only a woman can appreciate, that the maid had stolen her bra.
I guess I wasn't as supportive as I should have been. I would actually be somewhat flattered, if a maid ever risked her job to steal my underwear. But being the gentleman that I always am, after not being able to reach anyone on the room phone, I quickly dressed and went to the front desk to make some inquires.
Yes, the laundry was done in-house. And yes they would alert the staff to be on the lookout for a pink bra. The lady at the front desk even filled out a form with our room number and the object of The Quest - 1 pink bra.
By the time I got back to the room, Plum had settled down and was dressed and ready for phun. We wined and dined and then came back to the room and messed up the bed again.
The next morning, I was in the bathroom watching the water in the tub rise, when I heard the cry of Archimedes of Syracuse - Eureka!
She's done a lot of gigs. She has done it about 52,000,000,002 times and she is getting ready to do it again. It is a big display and lots of people are going to be watching. But there is no dress rehearsal for this kind of thing. She just puts it out and lets it hang.
On Sunday, May 26th, the moon will be full.
Current theory holds that the moon was once part of the Earth. I got the 52,000,000,002, in the above, by assuming that this separation occurred a bit less than 4 1/2 billion years ago and then add two for phun.
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding -
Riding - riding-
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
By this time tomorrow I should be packed and ready to ride. Tomorrow, Plum and I are heading to Charleston, S. C. Sun and surf and sand and seafood, and if I am lucky I might even spot a few two legged thongs strutting about.
Of the infinite number of possibilities, there is only one unique solution for the value of π. This unique solution is strange. However, this was not done by design. There is no choice in this matter. If somehow it where possible to change the value of π, for each new value, the entire universe would have to be different. Presently, it is impossible to construct a circle for which π = 4.
And the Devil said unto him, "Make it not so." And he could not, for it had been such even before him.
So what does this mean?
It means that you just can't make π whatever you want. Π has to be what it is and it can't be anything else.
Of all the forms and shapes, the circle is the most mysterious. It is intuitive that the circle is different from all the other shadows. The circle's lack of pointed edges and its effortless round and round are soothing. Of all the forms and shapes, the circle is the most curious.
Let us make its symbol strange and its reckoning obtuse.
And from this you shall know The Face of God.
Π is equal to the circumference of a circle divided by its diameter.
The size of a circle may change but π does not.
For all circles π is the same.
Π is a constant.
Π = 3.14159265358979323846….
Π is an irrational number.
Π continues into infinity without repeating.
So what does this all mean?
It means that no matter what size circle you have, large or small, you can play around with some of the circle's parts and always come up with the same number. Take a big circle and play around with some of its parts and pow you come up with this number. Take a small circle and play around with some of its parts and pow you come up with the same number.
And the number you come up with every time is a rather strange number.
Once is not enough but thrice is too many. The other afternoon I watched Memento for the 3rd time. Twice is probably the ideal number of viewings, but I was hanging out with the world's greatest film critic and she hadn't seen it yet.
Memento is a great flick, but I suspect that no matter how many times you check it out, it is not going to completely click. Like the missing pages in the police report that Lenny carries around, some parts to the puzzle have been left out. These missing links are actually what makes Memento great because each viewer in their own fashion will craft a unique version of the story.
And then there is the meta to Memento, the transcendence. The realization that "noitidnoc siht evah i." We are all Memento. We all forget.
We all have lists of things to do and ideas we have written down and journals and blogs and pixs and… We have all these things because we forget. The you, you are right now, will not be the you that you are tomorrow because...
I'm back. I forgot that I had some shirts on low heat in the drier that can't stay in too long or they shrink. And yes I hung them on plastic hangers.
I am waiting patiently for her. I am one of her favorites. I am one of her favorites because i have always kept her ways. Most do not take the time. Most do not take the time to listen to the light, to the tinkle and the roar. The roar announcing her coming and the tinkle the tenderness of her touch.
She is very fickle but I know her ways well. I have been with her every night for a week. Each time we meet it is an hour later than the time before.
Why is it that she does not hurry? Why she does not to whip and boot, spur her steed more steady to my embrace, makes me wonder and doubt and sad.
Geocity, the server i post my pixs to, is down for routine maintence. Therefore, my background and all my wonderful snaps are lost in cyberspace. I don't remember the details but the Geocity server should be up later today.
I went to the park by the river on Thursday morning. It was atwitter with fowl and brazen squirrels.
I was lying on a quilt on the ground, listening to all the chirping and contemplating my navel. Plum sat beside me doing some needle work. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed we were being watched. About 20 feet away, a squirrel was scampering back and forth, giving me and Plum the once over.
There was something in his swagger that suggested that he had done this before. The squirrel was looking for food and thought that we could help.
Rocky was actually in luck. I had stopped at Kroger's on the way to the park and picked up a loaf of multigrain bread to feed to the honk - honk - ducks. I opened the plastic bread bag and pulled out an end piece. I pulled off a plug and mushed it between my fingers into a little ball.
I had my camera out and wanted to get a snap of The Rockster in the sun. I pitched the bread out into a patch of sun lite grass about 10 feet from Rocky.
Show time. Rocky knew exactly what to do. He slunked over to the left, then he stealthed to the right, and finally made his way over to the bread. Quick as a flash, he snipped up the little bread ball and then with a squirrel hop and a scamper, made it into the shade to munch on his lunch.
I work Sat - Wed, from 11 AM EST - 8 PM. Last Wednesday night was a real Friday night. I let my hair down and let my horns show.
I got off work on Wednesday at 8 PM. I stopped at The Liquor Store of the Stars on the way home and got tanged up - Tanqueray Sterling Vodka - 750 ml - $16.99. I call my liquor store The Liquor Store of the Stars, because I shop there and I once saw one of the local TV weathermen buying wine there.
I was in my front door by 8:30 PM. My apartment had that end of the week look - dirty dishes everywhere, rumbled sheets on the bed, clothes on the floor and draped over furniture, dirty ashtrays, books here, shoes there, and lots of stuff just out of place.
Although I was expecting Plum around 10 PM, I didn’t panic. I can do amazing things in an hour and a half. I won't bore you with the details but I had things squared away, showered, dressed, music playing, candles a glow, and a slight buzz going by 10 PM.
I got a call from Plum around 10:10 PM. She was just leaving and would hit my place by 11 PM.
I was hungry and hung and ready for phun. I couldn't wait. I taped a note on the front door for Plum and left for Whiskers.
I was surfing the internet this morning and came across this.
"i know my dad looks at porn. here are all the sites from the history:
i really don't like picturing him doing that. and they're weird sites too. but it's kind of amusing.
he tried to blame it on me when my mother stumbled upon them. can you believe that?"
Edgar Allan Poe is my favorite poet. There is little doubt that Poe was the John Nash (A Beautiful Mind) of American Literature. The ups and downs of his life are indicative of a manic depressive, but a genius nonetheless. Everything that Poe touched bears the signet of The Muses.
The Raven is my favorite poem. Annabel Lee rides high on my top ten list. The only other offering that comes close to these is The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes. Paradise Lost would certainly also make the list, but I really don't consider Milton's opus a poem, it is much more a story.
About five years ago, I tried to memorize The Raven. My mind is not what it used to be, but I diligently worked at reproducing this masterpiece. After about a week, I had committed about a third of it to memory, but could go forward nevermore. I was exhausted, weak and weary, but Poe just snickered and went on and on. The Raven is 17 stanzas long. If you ever get it all down I will certainly be impressed.
With some literary license, I took the verse to Annabel Lee and set it to music, a transformation of stanzas into staves. I actually set the verse to the chord progression of The House of The Rising Sun. There is a bit of irony here. The House of The Rising Sun is the first song I learned to play on the guitar. Annabel Lee will probably be the last song I ever write.
Scattered throughout my writings are a few quaint and curious clues, clues to my propensities and predilections, clues to my fancy, clues to my familiars. I suspect that for most who have encountered these quibbles and quirks they remained "quaint and curious" and nothing more.
Since I have to work on the weekends and would have missed this Sunday, I went out to visit my Mom today to wish her a Happy Mother's Day. My Mother's name is Dorothy. Her close friends call her Dot. I will always call her Mom.
For Mother's Day, I got Mom a garden fairy and an assortment of large perennials. I put the plants in a semi circle with the fairy in a small clearing in the back towards the middle. The arrangement came out quite nice. I could tell that both my Mom and the garden fairy were pleased.
I am not sure if my Mom is a fairy but her mother, Lena was. I have written a piece, Lena Queen of the Fairies, that I hope to expand one day. Maybe some day, if you have been extra good, I will share it with you.
According to the Office Max desk calendar that I have tacked to the wall on my left, today is Mother's Day in Mexico.
This was one of my last snaps from Music Midtown 2002. It has very little to do with the Music, it's much more Midtown. Actually it is downtown.
This pix was taken on Sunday, May 5, 2002, at approximately 5:30 PM est. After a wonderful day at MM 2002, we were on our way home. About 3/4 of the way to the train station, Plum decided that she had to pee. We stopped at some drugstore chain place and I waited for Plum outside.
I was bow wow tired, dogged out. I sat down on a parking bump and watched as the rest of the world chased cars. I looked up and bow wow, there it was. The sun was battling this tall building for control of the sky.
Perhaps, knowing the truth, I am not as anxious to share as I should be, this grand adventure being naught but a parlor trick. Still once engaged it will hold sway over all who know, forever. This is such for it is the way of all flesh, and yea are but a part of that.
"A trinity, a trinity, we want a trinity."
There are three parts to this undertaking. You take a short journey. Find and record something. Then take what you have written and memorize it. The journey is to the library. The "it" is from Macbeth - Act V Scene V. Don't fret, you are not a fool. You will instantly recognize what you were sent to find.
There are many ways to expedite this process but time well spent will have its reward.
Go and find and do. And when you have done this you will be forever different.
You have to go to the May 3, 2002 entry, entitled - I having been having trouble ppping. I'm too shot out to do a link now so just scroll down a bit and it's there.
There was no gap between file and name in the original. Truly the touch of a master.
Perhaps 1 in 1,000 have the ability to hack a blog. But only 1 in 10,000 would have the talent and the acumen to instantly recognize how to reveal to me why some operating systems do not allow spaces in file names. Actually, the probability is certainly much lower, because this is the best I have seen - ever.
This is the last day of Music Midtown. The first two days have been rather disappointing because of the weather. But Plum just got here and with her she brought the sun. Hurray! Hurray! It's going to be a beautiful day.
It could be a glyph for my mental condition, but it's not. It's the lights in my bathroom. More aptly it is the light left in my bathroom. T'is true I am somewhat of a slacker but it usually never gets this bad. However, something is wrong with the wiring. I put the bulbs in and pow, they blow out. At a buck or two a pop I got tired of replacing them. I guess the next time I pee on my shoe I will get some more bulbs.
While I was there I just couldn't resist. It's the gonzo in me.
I made it to Music Midtown 2002 on Friday. All and all it was good. All day, up until about 6:30 PM, the start of the festival, it had rained. But then, as if by magic, the rain stopped and the clouds parted, and phun was had by all.
Only about 40% of the anticipated crowd showed up, but there were still 40,000 + there. Although every tribe sent its representatives, the crowd was mostly young. Every high school in Atlanta was well represented. This was because if you had the $40 to get a ticket you had access to the mysteries and celebrations usually reserved for one 21 and over.
Although there were 40,000+ souls wandering around looking for the next time, I was surprised at how well behaved the crowd was. There were a few entities that had made it to places they had never been to before, mostly young women, but there was very little pushing or shoving or other obnoxious behavior.
Some people like to go out dancing. Other people like us, we have to work. For Robert "d" Snaps, Friday wasn't the best day. After being pitter patter, apprehensive about the weather all day, I finally made it to the festival around 7:30 PM. I wasn't there to discover new dimension or beckon the goddess, Robert "d" was there to snap out.
I use a Olympus D-620L. It is an older digital camera and works best with lots of natural light and when the subject is rather still. It does have a pop up flash, but compared to conventional cameras it is rather weak. Overcast skies are not idea for taking digital snaps. I did the best I could with what I had, but only about half of the pixs I snapped out were adequate. Still, I got a few good ones off and was glad I went.
When it came to the music I didn't give it my all. I caught parts of two bands I had never heard of before that I liked. Looking at the program now, it seems their names are Acres and Head Strong.
But I am one of the old ones. The big draws for the over the hill crowd, on Friday night, were the glad fly Ian Anderson with Jethro Tull and The Dumb Blond of Rock, David Lee Roth.
I got to the Z93 Stage, were Ian Anderson was going to prance, before the music started. I was about 10 rows back in the middle, well positioned to see and hear and snap. But once the music started I only stayed about five minutes. Best to leave Ian to my memories when he flitted and flicked and held me in awe. This Ian was different. Although Anderson still had the posturing and preen of someone who knew his business, Ian had changed. The entity up on stage was overweight with a voice that strained to reach every note. Same name but different. No longer a god. Now just a creature. I had to leave.
I made my way over to the 96 Rock stage. A large crowd was already into the act, gyrating to the blurr. From the large projection screens I saw the larger than life, Dumb Blond of Rock, David Lee Roth, strutting about like a lion on the prowl. David looked Hollywood and the band knew ever note of the old songs. I think my problem with Dave was I have never been a big fan of van Halen and Company. Dave is a one trick pony. The old songs are the only songs he knows. But I suspect that for van Halen fans Dave did not disappoint.
Not peeing but pppping, like in ftping. I actually have a little ditty that's been playing in my head - You Got to Ftp to the Site - sung to the progression of the song - The Freaks Come Out at Night.
Music Midtown starts today. My big plan has been to go all 3 days and take lots of snaps of everything and everyone. "Wow!! Look over there. That's gonzo digital photographer - Robert "d" Snaps."
I had a 1,000 fliers made up that direct people to my web sites. I worked all day yesterday on developing my sites. When I am done I will have 6 different sites. AT&T only gives you 10 mb a site but they do give you six.
Anyway had all kinds of pppping problems. If you haven't guess - yes - i am a virgin. Blogger is like sex with training wheels so it doesn't count.
My first problem was, that at least on my AT&T site, you can't have spaces in file
names. Almost all of my pixs files have spaces in them. Took me awhile to
figure that out. I can appreciate UNIX being case sensitive but I don't understand the rationale for no spaces in file names. I think it would take someone really geeky to explain the lack of time/space in UNIX. Well maybe that's it. Processing spaces in file names takes time. It took me over an hour to appreciate that.
So after mastering time and space i was ready to rock. I was ready to - you got to ftp to the site - you got to ftp to the site. (voice up at the end.) Yeah right. Yesterday, from 12:30 pm est - 6 pm, ATT's ftp server in my area was down deep.
Of course when it finally did come up I had lots and lots of other little problems, like my five newly created web sites weren't activated yet. Well at least I didn't have to run batch jobs with card decks. It certainly was good experience. The truth of things is that you really don't know much about something unless you have fucked it up a lot. I have constructing web sites and ftping and whatever dicked now.
So I have been getting ready for an adventure and doing the work of 3 or 4 people. Still need to add counters and template 3 remaining sites and...but at least for a bit i am going to kick and chill. I am going to relax a bit because there are about 5 or 6 guys on my roof peeing.
It's raining and it is suppose to continue to rain.
Quack. Never seen a duck pee. They must do it in the water.