I think this may be the all time best one in history:

Steinbeck's Cannery Row

"Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream. Cannery Row is the gathered and scattered, tin and iron and rust and splintered wood, chipped pavement and weedy lots and junk heaps, sardine canneries of corrugated iron, honky tonks, restaurants and whore houses, and little crowded groceries, and laboratories and and flophouses. Its inhabitants are, as the man once said, 'whores, pimps, gamblers, and sons of bitches,' by which he meant Everybody. Had the man looked through another peephole he might have said, "Saints and angels and martyrs and holy men,' and he would have meant the same thing."

I have a long, long, long way to go.

Rhapsody of the Bones is: "The Muzak played on and on and on, achieving an annoyance level usually reserved for screaming babies. If he was healthy, he thought, he would get out of this damn box and walk up the stairs the rest of the way. The weight of the cane in his hand made clear that was just another wishful thought. This elevator was so slow that he was pretty sure it had stopped altogether. He looked at his reflection in the gold spidered glass and a part of him just gasped. When did it happen? When did he go from being a sex symbol to being this sickly looking old man? Last month he hadn’t looked sick. He hadn’t looked sexy either, but he had always known better than to believe his PR."

A Drop in the Hand is: “Wow! A squid for a friend!” Karen had never imagined anything so peculiar, but she had come to the city for new… Well, for a new adventure; for new spaces; new air and even new smells and a giant squid certainly delivered on all those things, especially the smell."  

No Gifts for the Gifted: "Forty corgis in a full pack howl is such a barbaric sound, such an unrestrained sound, that the goose bumps on the back of his neck could have been used as extra pillows."   (I have no idea about the real title for this novel yet.)

Sorry I’ve been so quiet. I actually wrote a whole novel. It started with NaNoWri Month, but I didn’t finish it until December 6th and have been furious edit since then. It’s going to my Mom’s agent Dann as soon as I have it ready for him. We had hoped to make that on Friday, but Ruth’s cancer needed some attention. She is still OK, but they will be doing another operation to make sure that the abnormal cells they found along the edges are gone as well.

I’ve been working on my one sentence description:

A black comedy, well perhaps a gray comedy, about a rock star, his nephew the banker and their eccentric friend’s journey to come to terms with coming to terms for tragic events in the far past.

All should bow down and behold the power of the fraternity of published authors.

Just felt like starting these up this week. 

Me!!

Click on the image if you want to take the test.

Seventh Sanctum - Name Generators

It amazes me how I will happily be writing along and then something little like the the guy who delivers pure water stops by my main character's house and this guy needs a name and then ALL WRITING GRINDS TO A HAULT.    Like if I get anybody to read my stuff, the difference between Chuck and Timmy is going to make one wit of difference to them.  But still I sit there and chew on a virtual eraser and stew about it.

So I *really* like this name generator site.  It get's me past naming third cousin in 30 seconds rather than 20 minutes.

Here is a random list of people names it generated based on US Census data:   (it does other types of names as well)

Alejandro Giles
Anderson Velazquez
Arnold Jeff Doyle
Arturo Wilford Buchanan
Beau Darren Keith
Carmine Allen Pope
Carter Ricky Mckee
Chance Brooks
Clark Hudson
Dalton Larson
Darrick Hobbs
Darrin Lee Walter
Darwin Burton Cervantes
Deandre Phillips
Desmond Pate
Domenic Craig Sweet
Erich Francesco Gibbs
Erick Lynwood Rich
Eusebio Dodson
Fausto Donte Knox
Felipe Jefferson Evans
Felipe Ramirez
Forest Christian
Huey Rivera
Hugh Vazquez
Javier Boyd Coleman
Jody Cody Preston
Jordan Vargas
Lamar Jenkins
Leroy Alva Nixon
Lonnie Woodward
Loren Hines
Marcos Cox
Margarito Elmer Mays
Mathew Emmitt Joyner
Micah Delgado
Michal Galloway
Michel Atkins
Parker Lavern Daniel
Ralph Campos
Ralph Fletcher Mcdowell
Raymundo Cary Griffith
Ronnie Jordon Bowers
Sang Head
Sheldon Jacinto Jones
Vince Louis Mayer
Wade Rafael Bass
Weston Reginald Leblanc
Williams Little
Zachery Barber

I'm going to have to write this program.

http://www.dilbert.com/comics/dilbert/archive/dilbert-20070930.html 

Ok, I wouldn't actually sit there with a line, but even if you just marked the spot with a quarter it would add a certain zest to the day.  This is also the perfect application for Social Networking.   Contests for Accounting .vs. Sales.   What's the old bet?  First fish, worst fish and biggest fish?  

I'm not joking about the title.  

Yesterday I was throwing Chiwa a yummy, yummy baby carrot and I managed the exact trajectory needed so that it bounced off of the floor and disappeared inside her ear.  Like a hand in a glove.  She had to stand up to shake it out.

And I'm sitting there thinking, I have *so* got to blog this.  And you are probably thinking, ummm, why? 

Because it's a once in a life time, one in a billion chance thing.  Something extremely out of the ordinary happened and I'm not sure we paused the TV.  And somehow that just doesn't seem right.   So I would have preferred the lottery or something like that, but I got a carrot in the dog's ear and I should at least be thankful that I got something!

In a year I won't remember this.  Unless I take the time to mark this event something so utterly unlikely and so cool will pass into the mists of time.  It's either a sign of the "Get enough monkeys in a room" theory or proof of something magical in the universe.  Except I always thought that getting that many monkeys in a room would also have to be a sign of something magical in the universe as well. 

A Holiday.  I'm going to start a holiday for this.  I added a schedule+ annual reminder of "Unlikely Event Day". 

I'm happy to take suggestion for how to celebrate it. 

http://www.nanowrimo.org/

The idea is that you take the month of November and write a novel.  It just needs to be written down, it doesn't matter if it's a *good* novel.  Still, you would think that a group of writers could come up with a better name than NaNoWriMo.  

I'm going for it this year.  I think with the Rock n Roll story, but that could change.  Not the Karen and the Squid, that story needs more care.   

Woo Hoo!!

Mike reminds me to be thankful that I don't smoke any longer so I don't have to go huddle under something flimsy five times a day. 

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Haikus are easy

I dreamed about a Giraffe today.  It wasn't a weak dream or a friendly dream, but an in-your-face remember-me dream.  

 baby giraffe came to our house and I raised it.  He would give me rides, but I couldn’t' get my leg over his back, so I would hang on his side like you picture Indian warriors in westerns.    He was loving and funny and wonderful.  But it's illegal to raise giraffes in King County and so when somebody on horseback stole it away, I had to go to the authorities and they took him and let him go in the wild. 

The dream totem people say future vision, flexibility and silence. 

Considering what I'm execting at work tomorrow with the big Mac bug, it sounds like good advice. 

Really cool population map of US.   If I think of politics when I see this I understand two things:  1) Why a Southern Strategy works and 2) Why it is doomed if the rest of the city folk step up.   

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TIME: America By The Numbers - Where We Live

What an amazing thing.  I have never seen something this big orgnized this well.  Every detail, every dot, every dash was thought through.  And it meant something, in this world where the reality never comes comes close to the truth, this meant something.   

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Live Earth

Live Earth

We knew that we had a Raven's nest in our yard because it was quiet. 

First, a back track.  My Mom lived on the beach for several years and became a self taught Dolphin Caller.  I don't think I would have believed that she could really do it if I hadn't seen it for myself a hundred times.  No call, no dolphins.  A call, between 5 and 7 minutes later they'd show up.  She said that you just ball up your joyous feelings of welcome and do a directional mental call sweeping across the waters where the dolphins lived.  She even had a little dance she would do as she called out “Up Dolphins!!!”

When we moved to the Northwest, the native types told us that the Raven was very important in the Northwest.  And by native types, I mean white people that worked at Microsoft and had lived here more than 2 years.  They said the real natives describe the Ravens as tricksters who would take anybody that needed it down a peg or two.  Yet, they also returned the sun to the sky when an evil chief had stolen it.  We also saw a few "Northern Exposures" on the topic.  So you can see we were experts.

Then I started thanking any Ravens that I saw for sunny days.  If you have lived in Seattle in the winter this won't seem as weird as it sounds to, say, a Floridian.   Thinking that the Ravens, if they wanted to, could bring us a sunny day was very welcome.  At least somebody could do something about the weather and I could at least be nice to that person. Once it was so nice outside that we decided to take a meeting outdoors and somebody threw a rock at a Raven that was scolding us to make him go away.  It was raining hard by the end of the meeting. 

Spooky.

And they are not actually black.  If you are lucky enough to find a Raven feather it's beyond amazing to see it become sky blue or Douglas Fir green or Lotus Elan white. 

So I became a Raven lover.  Being a Raven lover, I put my joyous feelings of welcome asking the Ravens to come to our yard to play.  Although I didn’t do a dance, I created a glowing ball and pictured it rolling around the park.  I retracted the whole glowy ball thing less than a week later and sent them an apology because my nerves just couldn't handle the constant noise.  It's not like a robin or a red bird that has enough repetition and melody that you can tune it out at will.  Ravens have conversations, arguments, flirtations, everything, the whole gamut of communication.

You are probably thinking I'm nuts.  But scientists back me up.  Studies show that in some ways Ravens surpass the great apes, especially for memory.   Except that, of all the intelligent species, Ravens have something fundamentally different.  Ravens do not come from a family, pack, or group where the many is more important than the individual.  Yes, Ravens flock, but members of that flock are just as likely to follow each other home so they can steal food as they are fly to each other's rescue.  It's a much looser arrangement than apes have. 

We know that the Ravens flock because in the fall and spring *The Great Flock* flies around the park a few times.  It is so loud that it can wake you out of a pretty deep sleep, even if you have the TV on and windows shut.  It kind of rumbles, but not in a low frequency way.  But it is something you experience more than hear.   Somehow you feel it in the middle of your lungs.  There are at least 500 birds, probably more.  If just a part of *The Great Flock* flies towards you, you know that Hitchcock didn't begin to capture the experience.  I think that there are very few things that can remind humans that they are not necessarily at the top of the food chain.  Being in the water with even a small shark.  Or at the zoo looking a Tiger in the eye.  And being anywhere near *The Great Flock*.

There are also times when we just see *The Flock* and not *The Great Flock*.  *The Flock* doesn’t make you think of Hitchcock, but if you slow down and watch and listen you can tell they are up to something.  Sometimes it’s fun, sometimes it’s food.  Once it was romance and once you hear that call, you will always know immediately when they are up to that.  It’s in this situation that you really get a feel for the fundamental difference that a non-cohesive family/pack makes.  This is not a wolf pack or Father Knows Best.  Maybe it's more like a junior high school cafeteria. 

But back to our nest.  Suddenly a few years ago we had Ravens in are yard all the time, but they never made a sound.  I would see them silently glide by, pausing on a branch to scan and then doing a silent glide to a new lookout.   I have never found the nest, and maybe they change it every year, but since the glowy ball thing, every spring we have a nest in our yard.  I thought them especially clever to find a way to hang out with me and yet not rub my nerves raw. 

So back to this morning. I was working at the computer on about my second cup of Sunday Morning Coffee.  Suddenly our Ravens were screaming.  You could hear the fear and the anger and the hatred and the aggression.  You could feel their panic.  I felt pretty silly but I grabbed the dogs and went outside to check it out.  I was yelling, “These Ravens are under our protection” but again I felt silly.

I heard one of their panicked calls from a tree I’ve never spotted them at before and I must have stood there trying to soothe them for about 3 minutes until I saw the Raccoon just below them.  There, at least 30 to 40 feet from the ground, was the cutest little raccoon sitting on the branches with her paws out like a poodle begging.  Oh yeah, she was that cute AND an egg sucking monster.  

I called Mike and then I tried to throw sticks at the Raccoon while Ahken tried to catch them and he must have thought this was a very stupid game. But every once in a while the Raccoon would go up another few feet. The Ravens had backed off once I had come close to the tree although I could hear them still making their panicked calls in the distance. 

Mike pointed out that we had effectively treed the Raccoon and now she couldn’t come down if she wanted and that the tree she was on wasn’t near enough to the others for an escape by branches.  So I told the Ravens they had to take the battle up once again and started walking back to the house.

I felt horrible because the Raccoon had made 6 or so feet of progress whilst I had kept the Raven parents away.  Even though I tried to make things better, I shouldn’t have interfered.  The Ravens could have probably taken care of it themselves if I had given them the opportunity.  That I had made a bad situation worse and that baby birds would die because of it and that's pretty low. 

Then I stepped through the threshold into the house.

You know in classical music when the soloist is done and suddenly the orchestra arrives?  One beat they are not there, but on the next beat the whole symphony comes in.   And even though you knew the song and you knew that the whole symphony was there, when they show up it and play that first note, it takes your breath away.

When I stepped through the threshold, *The Flock* had arrived.  The cry they made came from every direction.  There were no notes of panic or even anger.  It was a call of supreme confidence.  It must have been like this as a toddler when Mommy showed up and truly made things all better with a single swipe of her hand. 

In 30 seconds it was quiet. 

In one minute the small birds were singing again, which meant *The Flock* was long gone. 

We’ve had the occasional caw from the Ravens this morning, but mostly they are back to their silent glides.  I wonder what the Ravens think about this whole thing.  Humans have to be neutral to them, not prey and not a predator.   I'd bet they never expected two humans and two wolves to answer their panicked calls.  I wonder if that makes them feel powerful or scared?

Although I can’t know for sure, I think Mike and I bought some time for *The Flock* to show up.  I’m happy that I lived up to my glowing sphere of welcome.  When my Ravens called for help, I stepped up.   

I wonder if  *The Flock* has the human concept “You owe me”.   Next November, it would be very, very, very nice to have the Ravens owe me one.  Actually, it’s not why I did it and I really don’t think that my Ravens owe me anything.  But then weird things happen in the Seattlites brain come November. 

My latest Worth1000 entry.

I'm loving, loving, loving, loving this thing called weekends for the non-self employed. 

It's almost unicorns and bluebirds good.

http://blogagainsttheocracy.blogspot.com and http://www.firstfreedomfirst.org

This is my third try at writing a post for the "Blog Against Theocracies" Weekend.  My problem is that I don’t have anything to say that hasn’t been said.   Fundamentalist are bad.  Intolerance is bad.  An apathetic populace is bad. 

Here we go anyway:

Around 20 to 30% of the population don't think that they can practice their religion without the authority to control those around them. 

• If their religion says prostitution is wrong, they make it illegal.

• If they can’t drink alcohol, nobody can. 

• If their religion says that women should never go out in public with their face uncovered then that’s the law. 

• If they want to have prayer in schools, then that’s the way it should be for all. 

These people’s views are often at the very fringes of what the majority of people consider acceptable, or perhaps even non-imaginary.  They often seek out places of authority because they know from a very early age exactly what they want to achieve with their lives.  Or perhaps they are raised this way by their parents and religious leaders.  These people have been and always will be with us.   

The 70 to 80% that are left have to stand up for themselves.

History shows that when we don’t horrible things happen.