Wednesday, March 28, 2012

For The Want of A Nail


 For The Want Of A Nail
For want of a nail the shoe was lost. For want of a shoe the horse was lost. For want of a horse the rider was lost. For want of a rider the message was lost. For want of a message the battle was lost. For want of a battle the kingdom was lost. And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.


And here's a bonus. I don't know the authors of these, and I'm not sure anyone else does, either.


While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand; 
 When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall
 And when Rome falls - the World

One Year

Wow, its been one entire year since so much happened. Last March was my sister's bridal shower. They(other family members) spent much time preparing for it. It was all bustle and hubbub and cold pizza for breakfast. That meager slice of pizza wasn't a great meal, especially for a day in which I skipped lunch. But it was a fun day nonetheless. We(myself and friends\family members) went to the Albany auto show that day while They(other family members and their friends) stayed and did random bridal shower stuff. And I shocked my aunt and I didn't eat lunch and everyone thought I was incredibly moody but I really was just spacy because I was starving and we ate a tasty dinner that was more of a lunch than a dinner and watched How To Train Your Dragon later. It was a full day. I will always remember it.
 That was a Saturday. The day after was Sunday, and after church one of my sisters and myself went to stay at my older sister's house in Connecticut for a week. I packed everything last minute but managed to fit a week's supplies into an overnight bag, and we had to bring our schoolwork with us(the advantages of being home-schooled). We visited the bookstore and bought books. We ate unhealthy food. And during the day, while our older sister was at work, we would do school and I'd listen to the distant train whistle, calling for me. We took a few walks in the Arboretum. I still remember that place.
 About one week of crazy happenings and when we got back home it felt like the world had stopped. Temporarily. Because just so much had happened.
Farewell March. Farewell Arboretum. Mayhap I shall see you again.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The Road Not Taken


   The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 
 By Robert Frost.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Tinúviel

Couldn't remember what I was going to put here today...So I though I'd put this one up. I believe it's the song\poem that Aragorn was singing in The Lord of the Rings, since Tolkien was a fine poet. If you haven't read the book, you are missing a great classic. Go read it.


The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinúviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering.

There Beren came from mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadow following.

Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through woven woods in Elvenhome
She lightly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
In the silent forest listening.

He heard there oft the flying sound
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,
Or music welling underground,
In hidden hollows quavering.
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,
And one by one with sighing sound
Whispering fell the beachen leaves
In the wintry woodland wavering.

He sought her ever, wandering far
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
In frosty heavens shivering.
Her mantle glinted in the moon,
As on a hill-top high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
A mist of silver quivering.


When winter passed, she came again,
And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
And melting water bubbling.
He saw the elven-flowers spring
About her feet, and healed again
He longed by her to dance and sing
Upon the grass untroubling.

Again she fled, but swift he came.
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!
He called her by her elvish name;
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell
His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinúviel
That in his arms lay glistening.

As Beren looked into her eyes
Within the shadows of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tinúviel the elven-fair,
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
And arms like silver glimmering.

Long was the way that fate them bore,
O'er stony mountains cold and grey,
Through halls of ireon and darkling door,
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And long ago they passed away
In the forest singing sorrowless.


 By J.R.R.Tolkien

Monday, March 12, 2012

Knives

How much knife does a man need? This question has bothered knife enthusiasts for some time. And yet, oddly enough, the working men and soldiers are the ones who actually need a good knife. And they often swear by a knife looked down upon as "inferior".
Most knife enthusiasts look for what they see as important characteristics in a knife based on opinion and marketing. Soldiers and craftsmen look for the stuff they know they'll need based on experience and what was lacking in previous knives. A craftsman may choose a Opinel or Douk-Douk because it has what he needs.
Opinel , from Opinel-USA




Douk-Douk, from Bladecraft.com



 Both knives are relatively inexpensive and simple in construction, yet their continued popularity and the multitude of satisfied owners speak to their hardy craftsmanship. The Opinel is carbon steel. That means you actually need to care for it. But it can get really sharp, and the Douk-Douk has a similar reputation.
The traditional Japanese pocket knife(the name escapes me) is similar. It is simple, single-bladed, without all the fancy do-dads and whatchamacallits. All these knives seem to dispense with much of the marketing hype in most of today's knives. And therein lies their charm and utility.
 Many civilian knife buyers are looking for a means of self-defense or for a good survival knife. It is difficult to sort out the advertising and hot air from the real thing. Knife reviewers have often been criticized for their unrealistic knife testing and the expectations they place on the blades. Someone in a real survival situation will try very hard to get the most out of what they have, and that means they will use the knife to make other tools, rather than use the knife as a do-all tool.
The Aitor Jungle King I&II were hollow-handled knives that included many interesting features and survival kits. Hollow-handled knives have a certain stigma surrounding them, but much of this is unfair. The knife will certainly perform just fine if you are smart and use your head.
 For self defense, just about any knife can be used. However, there are a few things to look for in a knife for this purpose. One is a good sharp point. That might seem obvious, but for self-defense, that point is more important than the edge. That's what makes all the argument between enthusiasts about the "perfect edge" pretty silly. Figure out what you are using the knife for, and plan accordingly. You want to slice open a deer? Get a pretty sharp knife, maybe with a saw back. You want to chop wood? Get an axe, not a knife.
 I personally don't go really fancy. A small 3" folding Gerber with a few other tools and a pocket clip is what I normally carry when I wear a knife. It would probably make a knife purist gasp in horror, but it cuts through boxes and packages well, has a good point, and I don't expect to use a knife for much more than boxes.
Unfortunately, there is something of a social stigma about carrying a knife. People are paranoid about things like that, because apparently teenagers are going to go on shooting sprees with a little folding pocket knife. 'Nuff said.
I can get away with carrying a knife most of the time because I'm home-schooled and live in a rural area, where knives and sticks don't look so out of place. But elsewhere people are not always so fortunate. And I think it's a pity.    
But my point is, you don't need to spend $300+ for a good, serviceable knife. $100 or less will get you an excellent performer.

(Note: I neither endorse nor recommend the companies linked to. They are merely places that sell these knives.)

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Jabberwocky

"Jabberwocky"

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

 By Louis Carroll 

Why I Like Old Cars

Many people drool over the latest carbon-fiber Ferrari offering or "high-tech" Tesla roadster. I am not one of those people.
I am an old-car guy. And I'm not always into the famous, more recent old cars either, the 1960's Chrysler 300s and Dodge Chargers. I'm talking old old.
Guess what. Electric cars have been around almost since the beginning. Yeah, big shock, I know. (Ha! Get it? Big shock? Um, never mind.) And those Ferraris and Lambos, and any other exotics I forgot, are all getting clichéd and boring. Exotics were originally intended to be just that, exotic. And they aren't anymore. In the broader picture, most normal cars look the same. The exceptions are almost unbearably ugly(I'm talking to you, Pontiac Aztek).

Sure, I understand that car makers are all going for the big efficiency target, and there are certain standard shapes that are good compromises of aerodynamics, mass production, and space maximization; but in the process of modernizing the car industry, I believe they lost what makes automobiles actually worthwhile: Charm. And it took Art to create that Charm, the allure that surrounds classic automobiles.
 I also like old cars because even when they've been sitting abandoned and rusting for years, many of them look like you could get in and drive away. They have the look and feel of power, even when most did not actually possess any.
Perhaps you've seen the Jaguar E-type. A beautiful and sleek car, even today.
(Image borrowed from www.topspeed.com)



Enzo Ferrari, when he saw it, said it was the most beautiful car ever made. Take that, Ferrari lovers! Who said plastic bodies and the latest electronic-fuel injection computer-governed aluminium block V-12s are the best?
So that's why I like old cars: the charm, character, and art that went into making them. It's why I think we need new auto makers on the field. All the big-name brands are too fat and stodgy. And I'm not saying we need more "exotics", either. We have more than enough in this world.