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Michael Gallant

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What is this toy supposed to be teaching him? [Apr. 15th, 2008|02:34 pm]
[Tags|]
[Current Location |Backstage]
[music |Baby Got Back]

Seth has a new toy. It looks like a bird bath with some plastic birds on it, some numbers and some colored shapes that you can pull out of the base like picking radishes. When you press the birds or the numbers or pull out the shaped blocks, the toy says things like "Blue bird" "Big Red Bird" "Baby" "Mama" as well as colors, shapes, numbers and phrases like "I Love you" and "you're sweet."

So, good interactive language skills, right?

The thing is, if you push a button halfway through a phrase, it will switch to the new phrase.

And, since Seth likes to bang out drum solos on his toys like a short, bald Kieth Moon or Neil Peart, one often hears sentences constructed entirely of fragments of these phrases.

Today, my son learned the phrase "I love your sweet one, Baby."

I'm sure that will come in handy later in life.

Especially if he does become a drummer.
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An interesting veiwpoint that both sides can hate. [Mar. 18th, 2008|09:17 pm]
[Current Location |Middle fo the road. Dodging traffic]

I like this guy.

In a Salon.com interview,  Chris Hedges compares the radical atheists to the religious right.

Normally, this would irritate me, because I hate people who claim atheism is a religion, because it isn't, but that's not his point.  He's pretty much railing against the forces of shrieking dogma, of  certainty in the utter correctness of their own view, and of splitting the world into "us" and "them." 

Hedges explains how he's debated Fundamentalists and a few of the noted atheists, like Hitchens, and in his opinion, the audience  members who showed up agreeing with his opponent didn't hear a word he said, and the impression was no different between the fundies and the hard core atheists.  He thinks that both sides pose a huge danger to our nation's, and wold's, future.

This fear of both sides reminds me of a proposal I came up with in 1984, the Jesse/Jesse compromise, where all political parties agreed to take Jesse Helms and Jesse Jackson  out behind the barn and  re-enact the climactic scene from Old Yeller.  The rhetoric goes away, the example sinks in, the remaining powers that be get on with the business of fixing things. Everybody wins.

I was kicking around a topic for the past few days about how I distrust all "ists" and "isms," because slavish dedication to any "ism" kills rational thought.   I have issues with Fundamentalists, atheists, capitalists and socialists.  Any viewpoint taken to far is pretty much bad.

Take Capitalism and Socialism.

Now, I can say wonderful things and terrible things about both. Were I an "-ist," I'd have to ignore the bad in one and the good in another, or, more accurately, be dishonest or stupid.

Capitalism works, in theory, because the better a product is, the cheaper it is and the more convenient it is, the better the chance I'll use it, and not it's competitor, thus providing an incentive for corporations to try to make things better, cheaper and more convenient , not out of any feeling of altruism, but to get their hands on my money. 

Where it falls down is the Capitalist ideal of allowing a market to regulate itself, which leads to slave labor, unsafe products, environmental disaster,  and  the collapse of the stock market, housing market, mortgage market, etc.  None of us wants to go back to working for a dollar a day in credit at the company store, and that's what we will get if we just hand the keys over to the Captains of Industry and let them police themselves.

Socialism, in theory, takes away the incentive to cut corners for profit, and guarantees worker safety, product standards compliance, a living wage, and rainbows and puppies for all, not just those who can afford them.

In theory.

Now, if you want to see socialism in action, spend a day at the Registry of Motor Vehicles trying to get new plates, or trying to pay your overdue bill at a municipal Water Department.. The latter happened to me this week. They never changed the name of the account when I bought the house, so the bill went elsewhere, and it's quarterly, so I wasn't missing it the way I would a monthly bill, and when the sent me a notice that I was overdue for an old balance, after I'd paid the full amount by check, once the next quarter's bill got to me, mind you, that a check was unacceptable for the old portion of the balance, that the clerical error wasn't the fault of anyone in the department that was trying to collect, so they would in no way bend, and that I had three business days to show up, between 8:30 and 5:00, when normal people should be at work, with cash or a money order, or have a lien on my property.  For a balance of less than $100.00.

The temptation to show up with a five gallon pail of loose change was great, but I'm sure I'd have had to sit while they counted it, and I was already wasting half a day of my time to pay a bill I'd already written a perfectly good check for.  With no option to take my business elsewhere, they can afford to make me jump through hoops, take a day off work, return a payment that any other company would be happy to have, and not take a credit card over the phone, simply because they don't have to.

Now, it's seems to me that only someone who inherited a multinational corporation could voice unqualified support for capitalism with regulation, and  only a grad student  or tenured professor could do the same for socialism.

For the rest of us, a middle ground would be nice.

That's kind of what this interview captured for me. Only with the mixing of politics and spirituality, rather than economics.




        
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Questionable parenting practices [Mar. 11th, 2008|09:27 pm]
[Tags|]
[mood | pleased]
[music |Train in Vain, by the only band that really matters]



This is what happens when you sing Social Distortion, the Clash and the Buzzcocks when you rock your kid to sleep.

He cries when a Dave Matthews song comes on the radio.

I am so proud of my son.

My mom just shook her head sadly when I dropped by her office with Seth today, dressed in his Skulls and Crossed Guitars shirt.

I told her we were gonna head over to Hot Topic at the mall and try to make goth chicks break character and coo.

She continued to shake her head sadly.

Oh, as an aside, WTF is up with the available "moods" on LJ? I can't get "proud" but I could get "recumbent?"
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Primary Day [Jan. 8th, 2008|08:42 pm]
[music |Won't Get Fooled Again - The Who]

So, I voted today. It was with a song in my heart as I realized that, whoever wins, we'll be better off than we are now. Seriously, the biggest whackjob running is a step up from W.

I voted in the GOP primary, to play defense.

Voted for McCain.

Overall, I don't have a preference in the Democratic field, they all pretty much agree on the big issues, and I could live with any of them. None of them really makes me excited, but I could live with any of them.

Therefor, the most important thing was to minimize the damage on the Republican side, and make sure that when the Democrats do their usual level best to shoot themselves in the foot, I will not feel the need to hang myself.

Plus, Romney must be stopped.

He'd still be better than Bush, but I've had bowel movements of which I could say that. But he makes my skin crawl.

Even by politicians' standards, the guy is a slick, weasley, flip-flopping opportunist.

He ran for Governor of Mass as a fiscal conservative, but a social moderate, if not liberal. Because, clearly, to do otherwise would have been suicide in the nations' Bluest state.

Now, to court Karl Rove's "base," the Governor of Massachusetts, the only state with full marriage rights for homosexuals, and the only states that requires all citizens to have health insurance, is running as a Small Government, Family Values, Sanctity of Marriage, Come to Jeeeebus candidate. (Now, I'm *for* gay marriage and health care for all, but be a man and stand up for your record.)

These were not "Hey, I was young, it was the ‘60's, everyone was doing it, so I smoked weed, burned my draft card and voted for McGovern, but then I found God and mutual funds," kind of changes of heart. These were things he ran on waaaaaaaaaaaaay back in those heady days of 2002 that he must now "reconsider."

Plus, as a one term Governor of Mass, who never sought re-election, he spent like a day and a half there, and the rest of his term out of state prepping his White house run, which he announced in Michigan, so as not to bind him to Mass in the minds of any of the GOP faithful. He even trashed his party's 16 year lock on the Governor's office, letting his Lieutenant Governor's campaign to replace him twist in the wind.

Makes me sick.

I can handle politicians with whom I disagree. I cannot abide incompetence or dishonesty in a political leader. I don't hate Bush because he differs from me on policy, but because he does things like nominate "Brownie" to run FEMA instead of someone with some emergency management experience like a big city Fire chief or former National Guard officer or maybe the commander of the Army Corps of Engineers. And how about Harriet Freaking Miers for the Supreme Court. I probably disagree more with Scalia than Miers, but at least Scalia had some qualifications to be on the court, like oh, maybe being a judge. That's just stupid. Appoint crazy Neocons if you're a crazy Neocon, but at least find some who have done something like the job you're appointing them for, not the fact they donated a lot to your campaign and go to church every Sunday in Gooberville Texas.

Those kind of friends are supposed to get rewarded with being Ambassador to Andorra, not a post that's important to our lives and legal system.

By the same token, Romney makes me sick because he must think the electorate is a bunch of idiots with an attention span of less than two years.

Well, if he succeeds Bush, we'll know he was right.
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Collect call from Weaddababy Eetsaboy. [Sep. 10th, 2007|10:38 am]
I know I haven't posted in quite a while, but here's the scoop:


Seth Patrick Gallant, born 8/27/2007 at 1:11 PM.

7 lbs, 4 oz, 20"

He's doing great! He's like the APGAR poster child. Seth was pink and active and round headed at birth, not purple and squashed, so Becky did a good job.

She is doing well. Labor was pretty quick, she was induced at 7:30, all done shortly after 1:00, with about an hour of hard pushing.

He was born a week late, so following in dad's footsteps, he overstayed his welcome, had to be asked to leave, and then forcibly removed.

Here are some early photos.


He's two weeks old today, and has been pretty good so far. He wakes up every few hours, but we knew that going in, and he isn't very fussy, so the sleep deprivation thing could be a lot worse.

Again, following in dad's footsteps, he mostly drinks, vomits and passes out, but at his age, women still find this irresistible. I've told him this won't last, and he should make the most of it.

Unless he grows up to play lead guitar, in which case he can continue to lay around all morning, scream all night, drink and puke and still get women to find him adorable and take their shirts off.

In a brief snapshot of "Seth making Daddy proud," as I was driving him to his first Pediatrician appointment, Dave Matthews came on the radio and Seth began to cry. When I switched the station and found a Patti Smith song, he stopped crying, so the boy is ok. Also, I tend to sing Clash and Social Distortion songs to him while feeding and rocking him, just, ya know, to give him some perspective. Too much "Row Row Row" and "Rockabye Baby" will just encourage bad habits.

Here are some more photos:



Click to enlarge



Click to enlarge
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[Jul. 28th, 2007|12:51 pm]
Book reading meme
Stolen from [info]webgodd_s

Once the shock of reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows for the fifth time in a row wears off, some readers may be wondering what they can read next. So why not start a meme of suggestions? So here are the rules:

1. You must copy and paste the directions, rules, and the list so far into your blog and then add three (and only three) books to the list.

2. These three books must NOT already be on the list so far. They must be fantasy or science fictional in nature that those who enjoyed Harry Potter may also enjoy. You must provide your name and a link to your blog and/or website so that people may contact you to ask for more information about the books, if they want. They must be books that you have actually read yourself.

3. You cannot recommend a series; instead, recommend the first book in the series. Terry Pratchett's Discworld would NOT be considered a series; but Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time would. Use your best judgment about whether you're recommending a series or not.

4. You must label the books as either YA (young adult, suitable for the younger fans of Harry Potter) or A (adult, suitable for the not-so-younger fans of Harry Potter). Please be clear about this. It will be understood that anything labeled YA is also recommended for A.

5. If you are an author, you CANNOT recommend your own books. (You can however hound your friends into recommending your books.)

6. Providing a link to information about the books you are recommending is optional.

And here's the list so far:
Read more... )
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Fencing, fighting and fucking around [Oct. 25th, 2006|12:22 am]
Ok, I need to vent about a pet peeve.

I know that Fencing is a sport. It's not a swordfight. I know this.

I know about fighting and violence. I was trained by professionals to actually use steel, elbows, feet, knees and teeth to actually hurt my fellow man and keep him from doing the same to me. I also know a bit about history, having majored in it and read a good deal on my own outside of school. I also learned about battles understanding the mentality of the combatants, who were, despite years or centuries of distance, much like me at one time. Hormonal, testosterone addled young men, full of the heady cocktail of fear and adrenaline and ready to follow orders and risk their lives, to a point. I know quite a bit about bodily harm, having worked on an ambulance long enough to see the effect of stabs, slashes, bludgeoning and gunshot wound to the human body.

I think I know what is fight and what isn't, and what is "historical" or "accurate" and what isn't.

Now when I went back to fence with a group of mixed old "sport fencers" and SCA members, I was excited to learn some new stuff, and play around with new techniques. I even learned the term "Sport Fencing" which is apparently what I did for years without realizing it, obtaining a national rating in the process. I readily accepted that what I did on the strip wasn't fighting, and learned the ules for SCA rapier fencing so I could play with them as well.

It was fun, after a fashion. I thought all was well. Like them I was interested in history, fantasy, and hitting people with sticks for fun. I was overweight enough to get along. Maybe not heavy enough to be a noble, but certainly enough to blend in with the smaller end of the rank and file.

Then I started listening to them talk.

The "Heavy List" guys sneer at the rapier style, and rapier fencers sneer at us "sport fencers." I grew sick of hearing how we "didn't know how to melee." There's a good reason for that. Fencing is derived from rapier training, and the rapier is probably the worst possible weapon to carry into a battle. Fine for a duel, fine to protect yourself and your honor on the streets of Florence, but of no use at all when surrounded at close quarters by angry Highlanders, Mongols, Samurai, Normans or what have you. The rapier is a bad melee weapon the same way a Browning Automatic Rifle is a bad melee weapon. It was designed for a totally different purpose. Give me a bayoneted M14 and turn me loose in their midst and we'll see who doesn't know melee.

I started out by politely saying this, then by pummeling rapier fencers at rapier style. This is not difficult, because I fought bouts against fit, trained, college aged athletes, (including a few olympians) to get my rating, so a bunch of overweight, long haired Trekkies weren't much challenge, even if they use a slightly different style, and claim that "right of way" is tough to understand.

Newsflash. It's not hard. Pretend the other guy's sword is sharp. Don't lunge onto an extended blade.

Right of way is just a training aid to reward good habits (parrying) and punish bad ones (countering into the attack so you both get hit). Foil fencing was to train you to survive a rapier duel. Not trade lives or wounds, but survive. Defense is where "fence" comes from.

I even tried not to roll my eyes at their preferrence for homemade fancing gear, to make rapier "safer."

Guys, fencing gear is safe. It's regulated by a huge international governing body, and subjected to actual scientific tests. It's designed so that a broken blade in the hands of a nineteen year old Hungarian who has trained his whole life for the Gold, lunging at you with the adrenaline that only having your entire nation watching can produce, will not kill you.

None of us who fence rapier between reciting passages from Monty Python and the Holy Grail while demolishing stacks of Oreos will ever acheive a lunge half that dangerous.

So. I tried to get along. Really, I did. I even coughed up an extra five bucks at the restaurant when a "marshall" tried to stiff the waitress on the tip. Chivalry that apparently doesn't extend to pretty young women who bring you beer is chivalry I can do without.

But now, all liquored up in the wee hours and filled with indignation after reading the rules for "Heavy List" I have to vent.

I'll forgo the obvious joke about how the "heavy list" is the names of those fat enough to be allowed to compete, and plunge on to the meat of my gripe. What they do is not fighting either. Nor is it accurate. Any more than fencing, or boxing or chess or the WWE is. That's fine, war is war and play is play, and I'm cool with that. I would be hapy to dress up and play with toy swords regardless of the rules and just have fun. If they were cool with that, all would be well, but they seem to feel that what they do is more "authentic" or something.

Well, it's slow. And you don't get to hit anybody below the thigh, for fear of knee injuries, again, fine for playing, but a pair of fat guys who wouldn't last three seconds against somebody who cut at their legs, making them dance back and pick up their feet to avoid having them cut off can last a long time lumbering about with a board in front of them and a hunk of rattan on the other shoulder, aiming every shot at one another's middle three chins. And you can claim a shot was "too brutal" and not count it.

Fine. It has rules to keep you safe. Like a sport. That's great.

But that probably isn't how the Black Prince did it.

So I will begin calling what they do "sport fighting"

I expect to be challenged, but so long as I don't dress like a Ding Dong, I feel safe.
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