All posts by jeffrey

Secondary Effects

Automobile Emissions: The Crisis Continues

One problem that is plaguing today’s air quality is automobile emissions. Emissions from a single car is not that great, but with the number of cars in the United States as high as it is, and increasing at the rate it is, the personal automobile is the single most polluter in cities across America. “Driving a private car is probably a typical citizen’s most polluting daily activity.”

Burning fuel in an engine produces the power needed to get a car moving. Pollution from cars is formed by the by-products of the combustion process, known as exhaust, and from the evaporation of fuel itself. The gasoline and diesel fuels that are used to supply power to the engine are mixtures of hydrocarbons. Hydrocarbons are compounds made up of carbon and hydrogen atoms.

In a “perfect” combustion process, the oxygen in the air would convert all the hydrogen in the fuel to water and all the carbons to carbon dioxide. The nitrogen in the air would remain unaffected.

Ideal Combustion:

Fuel (hydrocarbons) + Air (oxygen and nitrogen) –> Carbon Dioxide (CO2) + Water (H2O) + unaffected nitrogen

But in reality, the combustion process isn’t “perfect” and does not convert all the hydrocarbons to water and carbon dioxide. The automobile engines emit several types of pollutants.

Actual Combustion:

Fuel + Air –> unburned hydrocarbons + Nitrogen Oxides (NOX) + Carbon Monoxide (CO) + CO2 + H2O

When unburned hydrocarbons react with nitrogen oxides and sunlight, ground-level ozone is formed, which is a major component of smog. Although ozone (O3) in the upper atmosphere is natural and protects life on earth by filtering out ultraviolet radiation, at ground level, ozone is a health problem. “It irritates the eyes, damages the lungs, and aggravates respiratory problems.” Ozone is also the most widespread urban air pollution problem.

Nitrogen oxides are formed under the high pressure and temperature conditions in the engine. Nitrogen oxides help form ozone and contribute to the formation of acid rain. Carbon monoxide occurs when carbon in the fuel is “partially oxidized, rather than fully oxidized to carbon dioxide.” This is an example of the incomplete combustion.

Carbon monoxide is a colorless, odorless, and poisonous gas. It has been long recognized as a serious problem to one’s health. Lawmakers have attempted to remedy this issue.

Another way emissions are extracted into the air is by way of fuel evaporation (see diagram). With the advances of controls of automobile emissions, fuel evaporation is rising as the majority of pollution. There are four ways in which fuel evaporation occurs: diurnal, running losses, hot soak, and refueling.

Gasoline evaporation increases as the temperature increases with the day, heating the fuel tank and venting gasoline vapors. This is called diurnal evaporation. Running losses occur as the car is running. The hot engine and exhaust system can allow for gasoline vapor release. Hot soak evaporation occurs as the car is cooling down. After the engine is shut off, the engine remains hot enough to release gasoline vapors. The gasoline tank is always filled with gasoline vapor. When the attendant refuels the gas tank, these vapors can exit and enter the atmosphere. This is refueling evaporation.

The EPA, the Environmental Protection Agency, recognized automobile emissions were going to be a problem in 1970, when the government passed the Clean Air Act of 1970 into law. This gave the EPA authority to regulate motor vehicle pollution. The EPA, since 1970, has progresses to become stingier as the years went on. EPA standards dictate how much pollution automobiles may emit, but the automakers are the ones who decide how to achieve such standards.

In the early 1970’s, automakers installed a catalytic converter that was designed to convert carbon monoxide to carbon dioxide. These converters reduce carbon monoxide emissions by as much as eighty percent.

In the past decade, the federal government required gasoline to be less volatile in the summer, for the reason vapors would not escape into the air and create ground-level ozone. To promote better fuel combustion, oxygen-containing compounds may be added to gasoline. This practice is implemented where carbon monoxide is known to be a serious problem. Other changes in the composition of gasoline, such as reducing benzene, toluene, and xylene, reduce ozone-forming pollutants.

As the EPA looks to the future with the automobile emissions problem, they foresee a switch to fuels that are cleaner than today’s gasoline. There are several choices including alcohols, natural gas, propane and electricity. These fuels are cleaner due to the fact that they do not contain toxics, e.g. benzene, and because their simple compounds do not yield complex combustion by-products.

I feel a move to ethanol based fuel would create a better situation for the world. Although the ideal scenario would be to drop oil as our main fuel for such things as automobiles, it would create economic stress on many countries that depend upon their sale of oil. Another option I would conclude with implementing would be to add yet another catalyst to the engine that would completely combust the hydrocarbons and leave the nitrogen unobstructed. This, I feel, would abolish the problem that occurs when the nitrogen forms nitrogen oxides, and allows oil to still be used as a major financial backbone in the world. That is, until oil runs out…

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Theories Of Knowledge And Reality

SUBJECT: Dawkin, the man with a hand up his sleeve

After reading this fine article, I had to go downstairs and grab a bite to eat. I also had a glass of water.

There is no god. Don’t scald or castrate me for this assertion. Humans were monkeys as butterflies were caterpillars. No bones about it. Evolution is the reason we walk on two feet and communicate with words. The people back in the day were not so bright; did they even have school? I don’t think so. They could not explain their own surroundings so they developed a GOD. They looked at him for answers.

How can we, as a society, believe our ancestors (which they might not even be) about GOD, when millions of other people believe in countless other supernatural beings. We laugh at their idea of divinity. But who says who’s right and wrong. The answer really is no one. Sure, you can believe in what ever you want as a spiritual guide along your journey in life, but that does not mean you have chosen the correct one.

I am an atheist. But I do believe in a god. I believe in the supernatural powers of my bong.

Thank you.

Jeff,

You hold that people have developed the idea of God to fill an explanatory vacuum: keep this point in mind in the next few classes.

Jason

ps–super though they may be, the powers of bongs seem perfectly natural to me.

SUBJECT: In time of doubt, delete the necessary material, and add on whatever’s on the closest box of cereal, like HoneyComb for example, you see…

The only thing I agree about with van Inwagen’s Theodicy is that you can easily scepticize god’s almighty power. It kind of reminds me of a funny story… Van Inwagen brings up some very good questions, though… Why has god allowed “the age of evil” to persist for thousands of years? Good question Petey. Why would god allow this to happen? Evil is… well, evil is evil. If god’s plan, when complete, was to establish a society of good people, why doesn’t he just speed up the process and allow us to live in such a peaceful time, holding hands, and hot air ballooning. By the way, this “plan” of god’s has a resemblance to many other dreams of utopia created by deemed, powerful beings. Doesn’t god love everyone. Then why don’t the hindus, the moslems, or the native americans believe in “our” god; where do they belong in god’s plan? Hopefully god thought out this master plan before starting that big bang; or we’re stuck with an evil, evil world. Not to mention, the evil was caused by sir god himself. Thank you god.

Jeff,

Just wanted to let you know that this had me laughing (esp. the part about hot air ballooning!).

Jason

(Note: Jason was the Professor.)

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This Boy’s Life, Novel vs. Film

After watching the movie, This Boy’s Life, I noticed many differences between the movie and the novel. I came to this conclusion: the book is much better. This surprised me since my thinking has always been that a movie must be better than a book, but my feelings have changed. It was a good movie, let me tell you, but since I had just read the book prior, I knew how much the viewer was missing.

A couple differences I’d like to point out before I continue: Rosemary’s name in the movie is Caroline (I see no reason why) and the absence of Bobby Crow.

First of all, sex is one major difference between the novel and the film. The sex scene between Dwight and Rosemary, I mean Caroline, after their wedding is what I’m talking about. But also, Toby hears Roy and Caroline getting it on when the two reconcile in Utah. I didn’t think this was necessary, but the directors did. The scene between Caroline and Dwight is graphic, I believe, especially since it wasn’t needed but also the dialogue was explicit. And I quote: “You can get it doggy-style or you can get it laying on your side; those are your choices.”

I believe this scene is added because sex sells. Everyone knows that. (Baywatch is the number one show in the world for Christ’s sake.) Name a movie without a single sex scene and I’ll tell you you’re watching a Disney flick. The producers know this, the director know this and the actors know it.

Also, instead of getting off watching Annette, the three lads got off watching Lois Lane. A subtle difference, but nonetheless, a difference.

One major significant difference was the added scene in the movie I like to call the Mustard Jar scene. This did happen in the book, but the outcome of the mustard jar incident didn’t happen as the movie portrayed. Toby did say, “yes,” but did not attack Dwight as a result. I feel the director had the movie pan out this way to create excitement, a climax of sorts. The viewers certainly wanted Toby to go nuts on Dwight; he certainly deserved it. As a result, Caroline comes out and they both frantically agree to leave Dwight as Dwight repeatably asks, “What about me?” Also, as this scene dictates, Dwight is the one who tells Toby he stole his paper route money, when instead it was Rosemary who informed Toby in the book. Once again, the director had this happen so the viewer could see the disgust of Toby after hearing this, and create even more hostility.

Now, don’t get me wrong; this all did happen in the book. They did leave Dwight, but not in this fashion. They left over time, quite a while after the proposed mustard jar incident. In fact, it was after this incident in the book that Toby called his brother, and the beginning of the prep school dream started for Toby. In the movie, it was the scholarship to Hill that made Dwight go nuts when, in reality, he didn’t know about this until much later.

A scene that was in the book but not in the movie is the scene where Mr. Howard meets with Toby at a clothes shop. Additionally, all of Toby’s adventures at the Bolger’s house were left out of the movie too. I feel this move was made because the directors thought the heart and meat of the movie lied within Dwight, and end with the climatic exit of Dwight out of Toby and Rosemary’s life. Even if it changes the real story quite a bit. The addition of these scenes would make the movie run long. It is already two hours as it is at this point and the director felt that the final chapters were probably too boring to continue the movie into those scenes.

Another quick observation: Dwight never kills Champion, whom he calls Champ in the movie and Dwight also never threatens Rosemary with her life.

The film, This Boy’s Life, focuses mainly upon the relationship between Dwight and Toby where the novel goes much deeper. The book, This Boy’s Life, also goes into the following relationships, none of which are shown in the movie (or at least not enough): Rosemary-Dwight, Toby-Skipper, Toby-Mr. Howard, and the Toby-Bolger family relationship. The director felt the movie was too long, to continue the story into the Bolgers and the summer Toby was supposed to spend with his father. They had Robert Deniro playing Dwight and wanted the movie to focus on Dwight and his terrorization of Toby. Thus end the movie with the departure of Deniro.

A great movie. A better novel.

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Another Response to This Boy’s Life

Dwight is a stubborn man. To picture him, I see this: a tall, medium build man, dark hair, wearing pants and sweater or a sports jacket. Dwight is a stern man, no doubt. He was raised that way. And he feverishly terrorizes young Toby/Jack; he even seems to relish in his accomplishments in scaring this kid stupid.

I haven’t seen the movie as of yet so I’m taking a not-so wild guess in asserting that Robert Deniro will play Dwight’s character. If this deems true, that is a great example of an excellent job of casting. That person, whoever was in charge of casting, is deserving of an Oscar. Is there an Academy Award for casting? I’m sure there is.

The epitome of Dwight is when he threatens Rosemary with her life when he assumes the chance of her leaving him. I did not expect this. I know he is a violent man, but threatening the woman? I need a quote here.

“He just sat there, drinking from a bottle of whiskey. When it was empty he pulled his hunting knife out from under the seat and held it to her throat. He kept her there for hours like that, making her beg for her life, making her promise she would never leave him. If she left him, he said, he would find her and kill her. It didn’t matter where she went or how long it took him, he would kill her. She believed him.”

I also would like to point out the drinking and driving problem Dwight has. Everytime he passes that bar on the way home, he drinks for a few hours, and then drives – with his wife and kids in the car. That’s nuts. I wonder how strict the laws were back in those days on drinking and driving. Not very much, I plainly see.

The home in Concrete: I would describe the barracks as the apartments on South Campus, long and narrow. But Toby’s house specifically, that I would describe as a small townhouse. Inside: all white due to the extensive painting done by Dwight when the arrival of Rosemary was imminent. Also brown, wooden floors, as I imagine there were little or no ceramic tiles in those days. At the entrance, look to the right: a good sized living room where Dwight would relax and have a drink and also think of other ways of torturing young Jack. To the left: a staircase leading to the bedrooms upstairs, where Jack would take his beatings from Dwight. Look straightforward you will find the path to the kitchen and eating area. The utility room flanks the kitchen to the left. It’s down a step and leads to the garage. On the carpet lies Champion, the greatest hunting dog that never was.

Toby Wolff’s biggest fear in life is to be exposed as who he really is. He never let his true-self show. Toby acted as he thought he should. Toby never let anyone know his true feelings. An example of this is when Rosemary would call him while he was with Dwight, seeing if they could start a life there. Toby would always answer “It’s fine,” or “It’s okay,” even though Dwight was putting him through hell. Toby thought this is what his mother wanted to hear, that he liked living with Dwight, though that was not true.

To picture Toby, I see this: a medium-sized young man, short hair, and the onset of whiskers – the preeminence of a mustache. I imagine he is portrayed by Leonardo DiCaprio (I think he’s the guy from that movie about that ship.) I don’t see that at all. I can also formulate a picture in my head of Toby with a boy scouts’ uniform on.

Toby tries very hard to impress people. This is why he goes to Hill. I think he wanted to impress his father and brother, who were among the upper class, and prove to them that he was ready to join their lifestyle. He wasn’t. Dwight had a long-lasting effect on Toby. When Toby struggles, and eventually drops out at Hill, he decides to join the army. I believe Dwight had something to do with this. Dwight had raised him in a violent home with many rules, and that is what Toby felt close to: the violence and orderly manner of the army.

Rosemary was a woman who wanted the best for her son but didn’t know how to accomplish this goal. Toby thought it went downhill since she left his father. Toby hated Roy, and when Rosemary decided to leave Florida to Utah and leave Utah for Seattle, Toby was excited about the excursions because he wanted to get rid of Roy. Rosemary felt Toby needed a strong-male upbringing, so she sent him to spend some time with Dwight. To picture Rosemary, I see this: a semi-tall woman with dirty blond hair that falls to her shoulders. I can see her wearing a dress; a light sky-blue colored dress. Rosemary took abuse from Dwight because she thought that situation was the best for Toby to be reared up in. She was too naïve to see that it wasn’t. Yes, I’m stating that Rosemary is naïve.

To picture the house in West Seattle, I see this: an old greenish house, one-story with black shutters on all four windows on the first floor. I can see a car parked to the left of the house. Inside the house, a kitchen with a table and a medium sized family room is the heart of the house. The four bedrooms, one small room for Toby and three medium-sized rooms for Kathy, Marian, and Rosemary, flanked the kitchen and family room to both sides. It is a rundown house, but with possibilities as Rosemary stated.

Secondary Effects

A Response to This Boy’s Life

Toby’s mother wanted to start a new life. So she headed for Utah, because people were getting rich there discovering Uranium and all. Toby attempts a new life too, changing his name to Jack. Roy, Rosemary’s boyfriend back in Florida, tracked her down in Utah. They once again lived together. Roy begins to talk about having a child so Jack and Rosemary run off again. This time to Seattle. I think his mother has a fear to settle down with a man, since her departure from Toby’s, I mean Jack’s, father. This is probably why she left Roy in Florida.

Jack receives a rifle, a Winchester, and struts around with it when no one is home. The rifle makes Jack feel more as a man when it is in his arms.

The two women living with Rosemary – Marian and Kathy – both get engaged and encourage Rosemary to do the same. Thus the entrance of Dwight. Dwight lives a few hours away but still visits Rosemary. Dwight has three offspring. Jack, with his perverse self (remember the Annette Funicello masturbation phase), finds a liking to Norma, Dwight’s eldest daughter.

Jack, with Taylor and Silver, becomes a young ruffian – smoking and causing a ruckus around town, and even lying to his mother’s face.

Dwight found it to be his job to straighten out Jack. Dwight had him join the Boy Scouts and get a paper route. Jack, I believe liked this even though it made life tougher for him; he finally had the father-figure guidance and authority in his life. This is why Jack never told his mother his true feelings about the situation with Dwight when she called him and asked Jack how things were.

Jack got involved in a fight one-day and that night at home he feared big trouble from Dwight; Jack was surprised with Dwight’s enthusiasm and excitement with the story of the fight. Dwight proceeded to teach Jack how to not only protect himself, but nonetheless sucker punch the opponent. This made Jack surer of himself as a young man.

After Jack’s basketball game, riding home in Bobby Crow’s car with Norma, Jack notices the behavior between the two in the front seat and concluded that they had sex. This broke Jack’s heart; only for a moment though.

Jack, with everyone out of the house, sneaked around through all their personal items. He found a letter from Rosemary’s brother in Paris. Jack wrote to his uncle describing their lives in Chinook as a living hell and asked for assistance in ridding themselves of their present lives. Jack was fed up with Dwight. At times Jack even desires to kill his father figure. Dwight treated Rosemary poorly, and Jack was sick of it. Stephen, Jack’s uncle in Paris, responded with a letter offering Jack an opportunity to live in Paris and go to school there. Dwight was pumped up in Jack’s future departure. The offer developed into a five-year stay and also requires Jack to be legally adopted by his uncle. The only reason Jack even pondered this preposterous idea was because he wanted his mother to start a new life while he was in France. In the end, Jack turned down the proposal because he could not leave his mother. He needed his mom. “The hell you aren’t,” Dwight responded to Jack’s final decision.”You’re going.”

Jack continues to search for ways to abandon his life in Concrete. First: Jack plans to run away to Alaska, letting Arthur in on the trip, but Jack lets that plan slide though Arthur was ready. I think that Jack, at least so far, is all about the ideas and not actions. Next, his plan is to go to his brother’s who had just wrote Jack, sending him a Princeton sweatshirt. Jack tried to scheme some money with a fake check nearly being arrested. By the way Jack’s life is going, with all his asinine ideas and plans, it seems that he will end up in a jail at one time or another.

Dwight betrays Jack big time when he pawns his Winchester rifle, Jack’s baby, for a dog. Dwight said the dog was Jack’s but in reality, the dog was Dwight’s hunting dog. And what a poor hunter Dwight is. When Champion becomes a nuisance for the camp, Dwight takes the dog for a ride and executes him.

Well, it’s over. Jack, I mean Toby, leaves his life in Chinook for a new one in Van Horn, leaving behind Dwight. Toby has made an effort to improve his social status by applying to prep schools that are ranked amongst the best in the nation. He had formed this idea with help from his brother, who Toby has developed a relationship with via letters and an oh-so-important phone call. Toby had told Geoffrey that Dwight had hit him, and hit him often. Geoffrey saw to it to fix Toby’s situation. Rosemary, when she caught word of this phone call, hoped that Geoffrey had not resented her for leaving him. Toby finally hears from his father who sparks the idea for Toby to live with him and his brother in California for the summer. Then, when the time is right, Rosemary would join them and they would be a family again. This is what Toby has waited for: a chance to be with his father and brother again. Toby’s mother, at first, rejected the notion that she would join them but lets a light shine through that the possibility did exist.

Rosemary is fed up with her life with Dwight. She knows that Toby has gone through a lot to live with him and it is time for that to change. Rosemary likes the idea of Toby going to a prep school, but thinks that Toby might be setting the bar too high. She does not want him to be disappointed. Many schools reject Toby, thoughtfully letting him down.

Toby once again does a sinful, devious deed. This time forging letters of recommendation for his applications, with some help from his old pal Arthur. Toby wants to prove everybody, including himself, wrong by attending prep school. He is known as a rebel.

Arthur and Toby have become torn apart over the years. Arthur knows Toby is not whom he portrays: an outlaw. This frustrates Toby.

Toby once again, with his rebel lifestyle, does something stupid. And it wasn’t even worth it; they didn’t use the gas. The four lads left Bolger’s house, drunk, and went to a poor neighbor’s to steal gasoline. They were caught and were to apologize to the victims who could not believe such a deplorable crime could be committed. Chuck apologized as instructed, but Toby could not. Toby just didn’t feel sorry for his actions, and could not apologize. This is derived from his lack of religious upbringing, he believes.

Chuck allegedly impregnated Tina Flood, and was going to go to prison for statutory rape. Unless he would marry Tina; he refused diligently. Chuck had always planned to marry the girl of his dreams, have many kids, and live the perfect life. Toby knows better to know that you can not force your future. Chuck is freed from the charges when Huff agrees to marry The Flood.

The money Dwight was supposedly saving for Toby (over $1300 worth) from Toby’s job is gone. Dwight confessed this to Rosemary after lengthy litigation. Toby can not believe all his hard-earned money is gone, thanks to Dwight.

When Toby hears of Dwight’s plan to visit Rosemary, who had just moved to Seattle, to persuade her to return to him, Toby takes necessary precautions. Toby goes to his old house in Chinook and takes all of Dwight’s hunting guns and knife to protect his mother. Toby pawns these guns for practically nothing. Toby doesn’t mind though; Dwight had pawned his gun and stolen his money and this seems fit. I agree.

Toby goes to California for his dream summer where he expects his family to finally reestablish. His father goes nuts and ends up in a mental institution; Rosemary laughs at the idea of joining Toby and Geoffrey. Toby’s master plan went down the toilet. Toby fails out of Hill. He had no idea what he had gotten into. He was trying to impress too many people. Rosemary and Toby end up in Washington, DC, where she is confronted by Dwight and threatens her. He ends up stealing her purse, and sent back to Seattle by the police. Dwight was apparently in love with this woman for how many years now, and after a failed attempt of rejoining, he robs her!? That is precious, Dwight, just precious.

A good book.

Secondary Effects

The Life of a Civil Engineer

Question: In ten words or less, describe the job of a civil engineer.

Answer: Read “The Life of a Civil Engineer” by Rey Wisniewski.

The Life of a Civil Engineer
An intimate look at the profession.

To be a civil engineer, you need to be well equipped to get your point across, either by voice, on paper (hand written or computer aided), or using your finger making lines in the dirt on the ground at a site. Also a civil engineer needs to be assertive, innovative, and open-minded to new technologies and ideas. You must be able to give a presentation in front of a diverse audience and convey your ideas clearly on paper in an engineering report.

I interviewed Dr. Samuel Clemence, my professor for ECS 101, who is also my academic advisor to see if he can offer me any insight in the profession of Civil Engineer. As you may have already discovered by your keen sense, his highest level of education is a Ph.D. in the field of civil engineering. A civil engineer, the doctor says, needs good math skills and excellent problem solving ability. When asked if he had any learning experiences, the good man heartily replied, “Yes. I failed Calculus once, but it helped me out in the long run.”

Many people think that Civil Engineers have a day in – day out, nine to five desk job. But that is a misnomer. In fact, the reason Dr. Sam chose to enter the field of civil engineering was because he liked to work outdoors with people. Does the man consider himself to be successful? Yes. What exactly is success in the field of civil engineering? Dr. Clemence responded, “(Having the) ability to solve complex problems.” For example, he is currently working on a project down in North Carolina where they are constructing a very large radio tower. The ground beneath the site is weak. It is up to Dr. Clemence and Civil Engineers like him to solve this problem and problems like this all over the world.

Civil Engineering is one of the oldest professions in the world. The two other oldest professions were in the fields of medicine and divinity. And over time, these fields have changed. How has the good man himself kept up with these changes? Let’s find out: “I read a lot of professional literature. I am also a member in the ASCE [American Society of Civil Engineers], which just had a conference a few weeks ago in Boston, (Massachusetts).”

One of the major changes in all of engineering is the introduction of computer aided design, better known to engineers as AutoCAD. Dr. Sam had this to say about the software: “It has allowed me to describe projects in a useful manner.” But that’s not all that it has done to the field. AutoCAD has made seeing a project in three dimensions possible without consulting an architect. Engineers and architects can see their projects come to life even though not one hole has been dug in the ground.

Dr. Clemence is a doctor of civil engineering. What in god’s name does that mean? He is not really a doctor; it’s not like as he’s doing surgery or something. So tell me doctor, what does it mean to be a doctor in the field of civil engineering? “It means you have completed a Ph.D. program of study including course work in Civil Engineering with writing and dissertations.” Thank you for that in depth answer sir, that was exactly what I was looking for.

The last question my professor was asked is, I believe, maybe the most important. “Dr. Clemence,” I began, “Do you enjoy your profession?” Because if you don’t enjoy what you do and everyday you wake up saying to yourself, “God damn,” you’re screwed.

“Yes,” Dr. Sam answered with authority. I thanked Dr. Samuel Clemence for his time and answers and wished him a good day. He responded, “Have a good one.” I have found out over the years that ‘have a good one’ is a popular saying for middle-aged men.

Now what did I learn? Well I found out that I had a pretty good grasp on the profession that goes by Civil Engineer before this assignment. One thing that I did learn was that there is a lot more outdoors work than I previously thought. I am currently majoring in this field. And so far, I enjoy it, and plan on continuing my education to become a Civil Engineer.

Many people don’t realize their life depends upon a civil engineer’s design, thought process, or decision. When you drive home tonight, there is probably a great chance you will not think to yourself, “Hopefully this road doesn’t cave in.” You don’t think that because civil engineers made sure that won’t happen (or try to). And the next time you walk through the Huntington Beard Crouse Hall underpass, will you question the building’s ability to stay erect. Probably not.

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The Top Ten Reasons I’m Looking Forward to Leaving Sadler Three

10. Sophomore Eric’s feet in the lounge.

9. Steve singing.

8. Mark asking for it to be quiet during his hours of study.

7. Jimmy speaking.

6. Jack passing gas. No, Jack passing gas and laughing about it.

5. Prick-from-Long-Island-John saying what’s on his mind.

4. No more listening to people who aren’t getting any speak of my sex life.

3. Kristen drunk.

2. You know that hour in the morning when the hits of the 70’s, 80’s and today are played in the bathroom. That.

1. Popper. (I could never figure out why he walks the way he does, or why he is such an asshole, but then I figured he has only one testicle.)

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A Work In Progress: An evolution of thoughts

The Couch

It was 4:05. Fifteen minutes until 4:20. I walked up to the entrance of Sadler Hall, pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and removed my Syracuse University ID card. I swiped the card and entered the residence hall. I walked up to the elevator and hit the “up” button and the elevator doors opened simultaneously. I entered the elevator, hit the button for floor three, and waited patiently for the car to lift me up two flights by the use of a cable and pulley. I left the elevator, said hello to John and noticed a lounge couch was missing.

This has happened in the past. I knew where to check. I proceeded to go down the stairs to floor two; Floor Two being our arch nemesis. The couch was in the stairway being carried by three boys from floor two into their lounge. These guys were a bunch of puny assholes from floor two; so I acted like a tough guy. “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked the party of three.

“This is our couch. It has ‘Sadler 2’ written on it,” they said. It did, but when we stole it from them, ‘Sadler 2’ wasn’t written on the couch.

“You just put that there,” I proclaimed. “We are going to get that back.”

I went back up to floor three, walked past my room, and all the way down to Rob’s room. I knocked on the door. Lucas, Rob’s roommate, answered the knock. “Floor Two has our couch,” I informed the four people who were in the room. “Let’s get it!”

I knew to go to Rob because he’s always up for a little action. He only had one question. “How do you know Floor Two has it?”

“I caught them in the process of taking the couch a minute ago,” I explained. Lucas, Adam, Dave, Rob, and I left room 308, walked down the hall and marched down to floor two. I saw their faces; they were scared shitless. Rob grabbed the couch they had stolen two minutes prior. Two of the three deucers (Floor Two calls their floor, “The Deuce,” so I’ll call Floor Two members, “deucers”) who stole the couch jumped on the couch. Rob let go of that couch and began pulling their other couch. A female deucer had been laying on that couch. Rob pulled her along too. This was their only other couch. I think we have their third one also. But that’s because Floor Five stole one of ours. But that’s because Floor Eight stole a couch from Floor Five. It’s a long chain of couch theft.

Rob pulled the couch, with now two girls sitting on it, to the elevator with the help of Dave. Adam held the elevator door open. I’m not sure what Luke did. “This is our couch,” said a deucer. He had a personal vendetta with me for some reason. “You have a couch in your room,” he proclaimed. “No I don’t. You saw last night that I didn’t.”

All right: The night before, I was in my room and the door was knocked. I opened the door and there were three guys from Floor Two. One of them was the RA from Floor Two. He said to me, “I’ve heard you have a couch in your room.” I did have a couch in my room but did not anymore. It was from Floor Five, but it too was stolen. I showed him my room. “…And you have no couch. Sorry.” And he left. Back to the story.

“Four people from your floor have told me that you had a couch in your room as late as two days ago.”

“Well I don’t,” I retorted.

“Where did you put it then?” he asked me.

“It was stolen.”

“Well that’s your problem,” he raised his voice and said.

“No, motherfucker, it’s your problem. Every floor is supposed to have three couches, and this is our third. Go steal another one but not ours,” I exclaimed. As the elevator door closed (in the elevator: four guys and two girls on a couch), the deucer with a personal vendetta against me walked quickly by me towards the stairs. I followed him.

He walked up the stairs to the floor three door and entered the lounge. He walked up to our second couch. One was still missing. It was on the elevator with four guys and two girls. He started pushing the couch towards the door leading to the stairway. I put my foot down in front of one of the couch legs bringing the couch to a halt. He backed up the couch and again pushed it into my foot bringing it’s displacement back to zero. Once again, he backed up the couch, a bit farther now, and tried to run me over with the couch. My foot stopped the runaway couch. “Good job,” I said.

He gave up and began walking back to floor two. He muttered, “Tomorrow: you’ll be missing three couches.”

Being a hardass, I said, “You know what: No we’re not.”

I Wrote A Story

When I had heard our writing assignment to write a story, I, if not immediately then soon after, began writing my story. My pencil wasn’t going fast enough to catch all my mind’s thoughts on paper. There was a problem though: the subject matter. I was writing about marijuana and the times and trials I have had with marijuana. So I was a little worried about that.

At the next class, we were to have a first draft of our story ready for revision. Here are a few comments: “The story itself was a great one. I don’t know if (the) teacher will appreciate it though”; and “Good luck.” But if I didn’t hand in this story, what would I hand in. I didn’t know. But, on Thursday, October 1, at 4:05 pm, I entered Sadler Hall and soon find out a couch in the lounge of Floor Three was missing.

The other story I wrote…

The Phantom Bong

(This story contains explicit usage of marijuana paraphernalia and marijuana, in general. I do not condone marijuana use in any such way and if this subject matter offends you, I deeply regret that, but I believe this story has to be told.)

I have no idea how she didn’t see it. It was there for her to see it. It was right there out in the open.

Joe was sitting on the step leading to the back door of Ryan’s house. He was rolling a joint to top off the massive three-foot bong session we had just endured. The bong was old and dirty now. Ryan had gotten the bong sophomore year, and besides, he was a dirty kid. He was not a cleaner. I’ve tried to persuade him many times to clean it but no, he wasn’t going to clean it. Once he left beer sitting in the bong for two weeks. When we went down to the basement to retrieve the three-footer, it reeked of mildew and fungus. I refused to use it until he cleaned it. So we didn’t use it. Another time, he left it under a pile of leaves for ten days only to find it crusted with dirt and filth. Joe cleaned it that time.

I was standing, holding the bong waist high. Ryan was pacing. He was a pacer; back and forth, back and forth. It was an early spring day, possibly April 4th but possibly May 3rd. I don’t know; it really doesn’t matter. We left school at 12:30, skipping the last few classes to go get high. I didn’t miss much: a pre-engineering course where the teacher showed up less than us. I was wearing blue jeans and a long sleeve shirt. Ryan and Joe were wearing the same. Ryan could’ve been wearing a short sleeve shirt. I began turning the bong in a clockwise motion to pass the time as Joe was putting the finishing touches on the rolling of the anticipated joint and soon enough, all my concentration was focused on the rotating of the bong.

I don’t know what made me lift my head but I did, and my face dropped. She was smiling, smiling at me. Ryan’s mom was smiling at me. I’ve never seen her with a smile that big. “You’re mom is right there,” I said in a monotone voice. Joe and Ryan, at first, didn’t believe their ears, but after I told them again, fear and disbelief were securely established in their mindset.

Our first reaction was to hide the bong. I did a 180 degree turn, holding the bong, to remove it from his mother’s eyesight. Ryan took a few steps up to begin a conversation with his mother. Joe put away the joint, got up, grabbed the bong and moved to the side of the house. Ryan continued talking to his mother through the door. No communication was transferred from Ryan to his mother, so he went around to go inside to speak to her.

While Ryan was inside, Joe and I were joking about Ryan’s pending punishment and discussing the sudden outburst of excitement. We both could not believe what had happened. We were sure that his mom saw the bong and finally caught her son with marijuana and supplies. She’s been so close in the past. But somehow she is oblivious to all. And this time made no difference. She did not see the bong. Maybe it was the glare through the back door window or maybe it was that the blue three-foot bong was camouflaged in my blue Silvertab jeans. I don’t know. We have no idea how long she was standing there. She might have just gotten there and had too little time to see the bong, or been there for seven minutes and seen us hit the bong. We don’t know. Either way, how does she miss a three-foot bong?! We also don’t know if the sun was at a height, at which it’s glare on the backdoor window of 304 Teakwood Terrace, could create a hindsight for a 50 year old woman, eager to find her son with evidence of marijuana smoking, to not see a three-foot bong out in the open.

Ryan exited the house through the garage door and came to tell us that his mom, once again, was oblivious; that she did not see the bong. I soon started a theory that she saw the bong but wanted to wait until a later time to use it against Ryan. Or maybe she was to wait for his friends to not be present so she wouldn’t embarrass him. Because… how do you not see a three-foot bong? Ryan didn’t care, though. For now, all was fine.

OH SHIT!

I rushed to put away the joint I had just finished rolling. Ryan’s face, which was smiling only 10 seconds ago, now had the look of panic. His mother came home a few hours earlier than he had expected.

Jeff was holding the bong. He quickly turned around to hide the bong from Ryan’s mother. I stood up and grabbed the bong from Jeff and went to the side of the house. Jeff followed. Ryan and his mother were trying to talk through the backdoor, which was locked. For that door, you see, you need a key to get out if it is locked. I had the key; or that is what it seems. I have no idea where the key is, but I was the last one to have it. Because of this, his mother was not able to enter the smoking premises.

“Can you believe this?” Jeff said to me as we were standing on the the side of the house watching Ryan bullshit his way out of this one. He’s done it before, I’ll tell you that. His mother is the most gullible woman I know. And his father, who’s a lawyer, falls for his shit too. It’s amazing how naive they are.

Listen: Ryan and I, for Spring Break, went to Myrtle Beach. We also went with our girlfriends. Ryan did not tell his parents that his girlfriend was going. On the way back home, my car breaks down. Ryan was driving. He seems to be the one whose always breaking things. We call his house and while he’s on the phone with his father, Ryan gets caught up in a conversation with his girlfriend, who’s bugging him. He says, “Julia, the motel is right there.” His father intervened, “Julia! Julia’s there?” Ryan proceeds to tell him this: “No. We’re hanging out with a girl in the motel who’s named Julia. Julia Ran…der..storm.” His father’s reply: “Oh, all right.”

“No!” I answered laughingly to Jeff because… I’m stoned. We both could not believe that his mom caught us.

Conclusively…

In terms we can all understand, Ryan’s mother is… never mind.

There weren’t that many differences between the two versions of the preceding story. I now think that Joe and I did have a brief discussion of the goings-on on the side of the house before proceeding to the front of the house. Joe forgot, though, about how it was me to first see the smiling mother eyeing us, while I had a three-foot bong in my hand.

The fact of the matter is: Ryan’s mother did not see the bong or at least hasn’t brought it’s attention to Ryan. That solemn spring day, Ryan talked to his mother and exited the house with a smile. The three of us jumped in Joe’s car, blazed the joint and drove away.

Secondary Effects

Extensa 367D Specifications

Processor
200MHz Intel® Pentium® Processor with MMX™ Technology

System Memory
32MB Memory, expandable to 80MB
256KB L2 Cache

Graphics
1.1MB video memory and graphics accelerator
PCI local bus video
12.1″ (diagonal) High-Contrast DSTN Screen; 800 x 600 resolution with 16M colors
Supports simultaneous display on notebook screen and external VGA monitor (1024 x 768, 64K colors, non-interlaced; 800 x 600, 16M colors)

Multimedia/Audio
Built-in 20x maximum CD ROM drive
16-bit Sound Blaster® Pro – compatible audio system
Microphone jack
Built-in speakers
Audio In/Out jacks

Modem
Integrated 56Kbps data/fax modem

Storage Devices
2.1GB enhanced IDE hard drive
External 1.44MB 3.5″ floppy disk drive (cable included)

I/O Connections
Two 32-bit Cardbus PCMCIA Type II (or one Type III) slots
Zoomed Video Port supported
One parallel port (ECP/EPP-compliant)
One serial port (16550-compatible)
PS/2® keyboard/mouse/keypad port
External SVGA monitor port
USB port

Keyboard & Pointing Device
84-key, inverted “T” cursor keyboard layout; 19mm key spacing; 3.0mm
key travel
12 function keys; 4 cursor control keys; separate PgUp, PgDn, Home and
End keys; 2 Windows® 95 keys
Built-in central touchpad pointing device
Embedded numeric keypad

Software
Microsoft® Windows 95 or Windows 98
Recovery CD Pack
Sleep Manager
CompuTrace Tracking software
Lotus® Organizer
McAfee® Anti-Virus
Laplink® (with cable)
Tripmaker
Adobe® Acrobat Reader

Warranty
One year limited warranty; desk-to-desk repair
Toll free technical support for the first year, available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week
International Traveler’s Limited One-Year Warranty; service coverage in over 20 countries

Weight & Dimensions
12.2″ (w) x 1.81″ (h) x 9.65″ (d)
Net weight: 6.4 lbs (with primary battery, does not include external floppy drive)
AC Adapter: 0.5 lbs
Floppy Drive: 0.71 lbs

Regulatory Compliance
EMI: FCC Class B, FTZ
Safety: UL, CSA, TUV

Power Supply
Simultaneous charge-in-use function
100-240v auto-switching AC Adapter
NiMH battery standard

Primary Colors

Moonlight Remedies

My work on the multi-genre project was explicably excellent. I worked hard and I found out a lot about Aaron Burr. I researched two different books, ranging from soft cover to hard cover – no, they were both hard cover. Life was different in Aaron Burr’s day; that is another story. Back in the first semester I needed persistence to finish the multi-genre project due to my rampant drug use. I started off slow but finished like a cow making love to a horse just because it wanted to. Well, here we are now. Semesters come, semesters go. And fish love fish. In the third quarter my work on the play was again excellent due to my outstanding work as Oberon, king of the fairies. I worked hard to learn my lines but fell short during the presentation of the play, A Midsummer’s Night Dream. I edited beautifully with junior female Marcie Chianta. I also created a damn good program.

My hard work is displayed in my desire to become a mentor for someone who desires to have the qualities in which I pertain. To embellish the thoughts I pursue, day in and day out, are remarkable at that, if not genius. The tangibility of the cosine arc is represented in Jewish holidays throughout the year. I am not of the Jewish faith but I am a follower of all modern day religions, though in my mind, no such revelation exists. To live your life for a man, a god, a bird, or whatever seems funny, if not ridiculous. Life is nothing. Nothing is life. A series of coincidental events.

During the fourth quarter, I once again conquered what once could have been mine. I lost it so long ago. What that is is nothing less but determination. Determination is what a person needs to accomplish simply anything. “Do I want a PBJ sandwich?” Yes. “Do I have the determination to make the PBJ sandwich?” No. So I don’t make myself a PBJ sandwich. I believe there is only one thing I might have done to make my determination lower to the standards of a man who needs battery power to blow the smoke that emits from the burning of marijuana down his throat. Yes. Marijuana. Weed, pot, bud, mary jane, tree, ism. [“ism, ism, ism” – John Lennon, from ‘Give Peace A Chance’ circa 1969]. There is no doubt in my mind that marijuana smoking leads to procrastination, laziness, and lower self-determination. And with the amount of marijuana being inhaled, self-determination will decrease at a phenomenal rate. Why? Why smoke weed? Because smoking marijuana leads to answers being explained.

In the fourth quarter of my final year of English at Williamsville East, I wanted to do one thing: nothing. I did not complete the first writing assignment. I do not like the word “assignment.” I am not assigned to do anything. I choose what and what not to accomplish, and I chose not to. The next class, I found myself with the moment your teacher asks for proof of the completion of an assignment, and of course, I didn’t have any. “I don’t have it.” The moment is over. I had a feeling that day. A scholarly boy feeling. I leaned over to my classmate and said, “I’ve got to do the homework.” I’ve “got to” do homework. No, I chose to do homework. And that I did. I again had the determination to complete assignments (that word again). Sometimes they weren’t good but nonetheless, I completed them. And I did every assignment. So my goal was not met. I did something the fourth quarter of my senior year in English class. I got my determination back.

I’m doing it high or I’m not doing it at all. I made this statement to a friend of mine who retorted, “You’re crazy.” That was five months ago and how I ever lived up to that quote.

I jumped into the multi-genre project half-assed at that. My choice was not allowed. My plan was to write about John Lennon. As a sophomore, I started, what I now refer to as, my Beatlemania. I knew next to nothing about the four lads from Liverpool during the first few months of that year [I knew of the song ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’; if asked about Paul McCartney, I might have responded with “of the Monkees?”]. And now, I might just possibly know everything. The release of Anthology started the two and a half years of non-stop desire to learn more. Through cd purchasing, incessant research on the world wide web (keyword: beatles) and most helpful, the book The Lives of Lennon by Albert Goldman, I lived the life of the Beatles. And as a result, Lennon became an idol for me. From the Quarry Men to Help! to Imagine, John Lennon’s words moved me and many others and I would’ve liked to pay tribute by writing about him. When Mrs. Ruof told our class that no musicians are allowed and definitely not John Lennon (because everybody knows everything about him. And I quote: “We all know about Yoko.”), I said screw that. I could have given her information about John Lennon that would’ve made her fall out of her chair. From his anorexia to his bisexuality. And I would have written it in a way that would amaze her and me and half the class, because I truly wanted to. When Mrs. Ruof told our class at the beginning of the year that a project was going to be done about anyone we wanted, I nearly creamed in my pants. Finally I get a chance to write about John Lennon. The research I’ve done over the past few years is going to help me write a paper for English. That never happens. Self-exploration meets schoolwork. No way. But soon, disappointment came and I fell to my next choice – Jerry Rubin. Shutdown again. Because he’s still living, Mrs. Ruof told me. Turning away my choice because he’s still living is like not allowing Larry Bird on the NBA all-time 50 players list because he, too, has that problem. My next and final choice actually I stole from Scott Abramowski. It was his second choice, and when his first choice was also rejected, he had to fall to his third choice. My desire was gone to do this project. I researched Aaron Burr, but I understood John Lennon. To take away the students choice of topic based on career or mortality is absurd. Tyranny lives on. (No offense to Mrs. Ruof who I have utmost respect for but, c’mon.)

When I was done researching Aaron Burr, I was set and ready to do one great transformation. I also forked out an all right one, a half-done transformation, which had the preemptive to become a great one but I didn’t get around to finishing it (that determination factor again), and a sub par one. In the end, a grade of 84. Not bad for giving two shits about Aaron Burr. The grade was carried mostly by my one great transformation. It was an article about the dual between Burr and Alexander Hamilton. The article was designed as a newspaper from that era. I think that is why I got the grade I did.

When it was time to perform William Shakespeare’s play, an annual event which I had been part of the year before with Macbeth, I only wanted to make the program. But everyone needed to have an acting part so when asked, I requested Peaseblossom or Cobweb. I got Oberon. I can’t act to save my life from demise. I was an editor, which I wanted to do because of the requirement for the editors to produce the program. My main goal was to make a great program so I set my mind on that. And that’s all. I didn’t work on my acting role at all. A few days before the play when the program was set and done, I began to learn (or try to learn) my lines. I edited a few of my lines out to make this daunting task easier. The night before I wrote my lines on three-by-five cards and actually knew them all by heart by the time fourth period neared. Though when I walked on stage and began to speak my lines, I shut down like a turtle saying no to the beaver.

Well it’s all over now. High school has been fun. I have learned one important thing during high school: don’t wait too long for a phone call; sometimes it never comes. I plan on matriculating at Northeastern in the fall. “Till then I just cool me heels, smoke me ganja, watch the telly…”