Categories
Writing

Or I could study linguistics

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

What better way to get to the root of humanity’s global unconsciousness than studying linguistics. Combine this with humanity’s earliest attempts at communication and one can find the true root of male and female interaction, as explored in Cave Linguistica by David Salo: “Og like Nala”, “Me deer”, “Tiger eat Og deer, me smash”, and “Nala want eat deer Og kill?”.

This pivotal work has now been published in audio book format by Aquarionics, in a style strongly reminiscent of Alistair Cooke, somewhat mixed in with Crocodile Hunter.

May we hope to see further delightful collaborations of this nature in the future.

Categories
Just Shelley

The desks are the same, but the apples are different

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

It’s not unusual nowadays for older people to return to school when faced with long periods of unemployment, profound changes in their lives, and/or redundancy in their field. In the past, many of these people have gone into the computer sciences in one form or another, probably accounting for the fact that the information technology industry is now faced with double-digit unemployment.

I’ve been exploring the possibility of returning to school myself, and not just for reasons of being unemployed; using this time as an opportunity to refocus my life, to explore new things, is a very seductive proposition. After all, I tend to think of our middle years (anything between 35 and, oh, 90) as a ‘do over’ time — a time to suddenly discover that there’s a path beaten through the forest between the road taken and the road not.

One option I’m exploring is going for a graduate degree in either psychology or the computer tech field, both of which I hold bachelor degrees in. There are so many new possibilities of study in psychology, ranging from the more traditional clinical or industrial studies, to new explorations into social behavior and neurosciences. As for the tech field, though we’ll never see the manic behavior of the dot-com era, I do believe the industry will recover eventually, and there continues to be new and fascinating exploration into uses of technology.

In particular, the possibility of someday being in a position to encourage more women to enter the technology fields is an attractive one; this is in addition to gaining a better understanding into why we’re so underrepresented in the first place. In some ways, this exploration could lead us to a new awareness of being ‘woman’ as compared to being ‘man’ that can stretch beyond just the study of technology.

However, I don’t have to focus on graduate studies in psychology or computer science — I could explore all new fields, either at the graduate or undergraduate levels.

I love to write so it seems natural that I look at the possibility of literature or journalism. There’s also my interest in history and politics, and in the last few years an increased interest in humanity’s earliest recorded history, which belongs more in the realm of archeology than history.

What I would really like to do is explore something that blurs the lines between all these fields. I would like to take a little history and the organizational and social side of politics, some information management, writing (of course), psychology, and a bit of archeology, and blend it all together. I would then use this academic soup to spend my time discovering humanity’s global unconsciousness, which manifests itself through tales and stories, rumor, legends and myths.

Categories
Writing

The roots of the gnarly tree run deep

The roots of the gnarly tree run deep.

The untroubled tree
grows straight and smooth,
beautiful and proud
treetops vanishing into the sky,
towering over lessor beings.

The gnarly tree rests close
to the earth, and twists about
from knocks and blows;
rough skinned from exposure
and bowed with time.

The untroubled tree commands
respect as you sit hand over eyes
trying to see the upper branches.
Wrapping arms around it your
hands fail to touch and the bark
leaves no impression.

But the gnarly tree invites one
to sit beneath its shade
and nestle among its roots;
To rub your cheek against the rough
texture of the bark
and breath in the rich scent;
To lean back among the branches
letting them wrap about you
in an embrace both green and old.

Shelley Powers

gnarly.jpg

Categories
Burningbird

Canceled move to new server

I’ve canceled the move to the new server and have renewed the site here at Hosting Matters while I think what best next to do. Hosting Matters responded very quickly to ensure that this site is maintained, so other than some momentary DNS confusion, this weblog shouldn’t be disrupted.

Also apologies for all the grumpiness surrounding Web Intellects. I should have just cut my loses when I saw how much Ensim impacts on the overall system. I’m too used to working directly with Unix to deal well with an application whose sole purpose is to buffer one from Unix.

Web Intellects has been kind enough to refund my money, which is cool.

So, business as usual, at least for now.

Thanks for bearing with me.

Categories
Writing

Do not got gentle into that good night

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

springforestretro.jpg