Be Kind to Your Web-Footed Friends

                A poem to ducks

Oh, Anas Platyrhynchos

Master of the Air, Land, and Sea

Nothing can break the bond that links us

Won’t you stay awhile and quack to me

                In case the poem didn’t make it clear, let me say that I love ducks. There is no animal that is nobler, more dignified, or more ironic. If you doubt the amazing respect that ducks receive there is something you should try. Next time you are in a crowded area, meet a stranger on the street, or have a lull in a conversation, try yelling a simple “DUCK.” I guarantee that you will get a more impressive reaction than you would from the name of any other animal. They’re just so that great.

Majestic, Marvelous, Magnificent

            Ducks are a beautiful animal. With their sleek body streamlined for movement through air and water, their shapely head and neck, and their pleasingly shaped bill, they are a marvelous thing to behold (there are probably some golden ratios in there or something). Their plumage is also attractive, from the striking green of the drake mallard’s head to the pure white of the domestic duck. The appearance of ducklings is so admired that it is used as a standard for judging the appearance of other young birds. Not that such fables make any sense, since the duck has all the grace or swans or geese without the ungainly long neck or ill temper (a gøøse once bit my sister…). I vote top one for beautiful animals.

Awwww, just look at those adorable little wings

            To avoid being shallow, I will explain why I also love ducks for their brains. Ducks convey an amazing sense of humor. Take the quack for instance. Is any other animal call so laden with notes of good natured humor? It often sounds so much like laughing that it is hard not to join in. Naturally curious and friendly, ducks are very easy to get along with (especially if you have some bread on you). They are great pets since they are easy to take care of and are more trainable than most cats. Ducklings also imprint on the first large creature they see after hatching, so a duck can be more of a family member than any silly mammalian pet. They may try to fly away occasionally, but that is only due to their incredible ability to migrate thousands of miles. Ducks love travel. There they are, hanging out in Alberta for the summer when all of a sudden they wonder what’s going on down at the Gulf of Mexico. Next thing you know they are off with all their buddies on a crazy adventure, but don’t worry, they will be back again for spring break next year (Canada is the place to go for spring break). Ducks are also better at monogamous relationships than many humans, and are loving parents. Moreover, ducks are good at hockey, have strong political opinions, care about your insurance needs, love adventure (also rock music?), and also whatever this guy does. They’ve got a lot going for them.

Flying, swimming, and bipedal walking, what can't they do?

            If you’re not impressed by the stupendous nature of my most un-fowl friends, I will leave you with some 100% true facts about ducks (feel free to cite me on these).

1. The fourth most intelligent animal, behind humans, dolphins, and orangutans.
2. Can pack enough venom into one bite to kill 20 men. They just choose not to.
3. The direct evolutionary descendant of the Diplodocus.
4. Were trained to replace Carrier Pigeons in World War I, but they kept delivering messages to the enemy because they thought it was funny.
5. Have 50 different words for “fun to poop on.”
6. Can see in the X-ray spectrum.
7. Have a foul tasting meat that causes severe stomach cramps (should not be eaten).
8. Have been clocked in excess of 70 mph, swimming.
9. Immune to all know forms of disease or virus.
10. Actually responsible for all of Shakespeare’s plays.

Me and the Voice in My Head

                I believe I have a somewhat non-typical ego. In my understanding the typical ego is responsible for actions like desiring the possession of large sums of money, seeking intercourse with traditionally attractive members of the opposite sex, and having power over other human beings. It makes people get angry and offended over innocent comments, and it causes jealousy and competitiveness plus all sorts of other uncool stuff. It’s not all bad though, since the ego can probably be linked to acts of heroism and valor, and people striving to excel. In my description the ego is basically the non-rational thought process, or the more emotional “gut reaction” sort of drives and reactions. It is also connected to the self-image and self-esteem, which is why it can be so complicated and different from person to person. Above are just some examples of what I think the common ego does, and is probably pretty male biased (not real familiar with the female ego. I don’t date often, which shouldn't be a surprise). The one ego that I do understand pretty well is my own, and I will now explain why I think it is non-typical.

The Cobra Kai, the face(s) of ego conflict?

                The main factor of my ego is a desire to have no needs. This causes a myriad of non-rational behavior. I do things like wear t-shirts and shorts all winter long because I don’t need to wear winter clothes. I also avoid luxuries meant to make my life easier (like a pizza cutter), because I can get along without them. I only grudgingly admit to needing actual literal needs like sleep and food, and don’t like to eat or sleep in front of other people because it makes me feel vulnerable. When my ego gets mixed in with other people and relationships that’s when it really causes problems. If I decide I don’t need another person in my life I will basically freeze them out and try to shut down all communication between us, which is a horrible thing to do. I have lost some friends in this manner, which I feel bad about, but the ego also keeps me from fixing things, so I got that going for me, which is not nice.  I do think I need the internet, I will admit that much.

It's so good at cutting pizza that it seem sinful

                My drives are what really stand out among other members of American Male Culture though. Money has no real value to me. I can spend it without any remorse, and I don’t seek making money with much intensity (I am employed, but I don’t push for raises or anything). Luckily my whole “no needs” deal keeps me from buying very many things, so I generally end up hording money anyway. Social and romantic relationships have never been something that I worked real hard to create. I always start as a passive friend with the other person needing to be the outgoing one, and my sexual orientation would probably best be described as asexual but hetero curious. I can on occasion be reasonably outgoing with close friend who I have known for some time and trust and respect (as for close romantic relationships I will have to let you know when it happens). Being serious or competitive are other things I am not known for. I’m yet to run into a situation where that was bad for me though, so no problem I guess. Influencing other people’s actions to almost any degree also makes me uncomfortable, which means I am really bad at changing lanes in traffic (sorry people behind me).

                As for weak points in my ego, those are really just the weak points in my self-image. Insults toward my intelligence generally upset me more than anything else since I put a lot of value in being smart. The insults do need to be well composed to get to me, so I don’t just tear up every time someone says that I’m dumb. My smell is another point that I am self-conscious about, since I sweat more than is reasonable on occasion, and worry if it smells. I have never actually had a negative comment about my smell, but I have had people say that my Old Spice Classic cover scent smells nice multiple times. Shots at the way I look or dress generally have no effect, although I sometimes wish they would (maybe I wouldn’t have had such an absurd goatee through high school, or worn the same dirty hat for twelve years). Insults directed at my ability at sports, or my sexual prowess are also fairly moot. This means the best way to make me feel bad would be to ditch me for a Nobel Laureate (one of the sciency ones anyway) who smells like lilacs and laundry exhaust; I’m not sure I could recover from that.

Me after walking half a block in 70° weather.

                Thank goodness I’m a textbook introvert though (^sreally, an introvert, you don’t say!^s), and take plenty of time for introspection (and then writing blog post about it). I hope I have a fairly strong understanding of my ego, and can work against its more negative consequences. Introversion is probably the overall cause for my different ego anyway, since the stereotypical ego is probably a more extrovert ego. I will definitely take uncomfortable eating over unreasonable punching any day. Anyway, please don’t use this information to crush me mentally.

Dive Quest

                My new favorite summer hobby is spearfishing. It combines fishing and snorkeling, two activities that I enjoy, but it doesn’t just combine those activities but improves on them. It is better than normal fishing because I get fish to eat (in theory), but I get to see them, and interact with them in a way that is more similar to hunting than normal fishing. Spearfishing improves on snorkeling because I have a good reason to push my limits physically, and I get to carry weapons. Spearfishing is also just intrinsically bad ass all by itself. You don’t have to wear a shirt while you are doing it, and the end goal is to stab some smug fish right in the face (they think they’re so cool breathing water and not paying taxes). Catching fish while spearfishing is also called taking fish, which is stupendous. It is like some sort of sweet text adventure.

               

>inventory

               

You are carrying: swim fin x2, snorkel, mask, weight belt, diver down flag, diving knife, pole spear

>go west

You go west. There are submerged trees here. There are fish here.

>look fish

You see carp of various sizes all around you, a catfish laying on the bottom, two northern pike swimming in the trees, and one walleye ahead.

>take walleye

You use your pole spear to take the walleye.

Congratulation! You have completed Dive Quest!  You score 8.3 out of a possible 8.7 points!

                Spearfishing also allows me to entertain elaborate fantasies about meeting dive chicks who look good inwetsuits, and discovering lost U-boats filled with Nazi war-gold (I’m not sure which of those scenarios is more unlikely). Anyway, enough exposition, and onto the story of my first “successful” diving expedition (the quotes indicate skepticism).

                It was the 3^rd of July. There were light clouds in the sky, a light south wind, and temperatures in the high 90’s. I had been out diving about a half dozen times before, seeing a total of two walleye, without ever getting close to spearing something (I won’t kill anything that I won’t eat, which includes the carp and catfish that had been my only reachable targets so far). I went to my usual spot out at the end of the quasi peninsula between Cow and Spring Creeks, for people familiar with the Pierre area (a latitude and longitude of 44°33’23”N and 100°29’56”W, for people not familiar with the area, who are also map nerds). The spot featured nice sandy (aka some sand, some razor sharp gravel) beaches, and plenty or area to look for fish in, as long as I wasn’t being boxed out by the detestable boat fishermen. I was going to try a point that I hadn’t previously explored, but had seen some of the aforementioned boat fishermen at (seriously what is up with those guys?). My main goal was to perfect my diving technique using my new weight belt, and I wasn’t really expecting to see any walleye. The south side of the point was an insipid rocky ledge that held some hope of housing walleye, but planed off at too shallow a depth to be really viable. Visibility was excellent (for the area), and I could see at least 20 feet in the water. The only fish I saw were the always pervasive carp, and a few bass.

I had gone about 150 yards offshore and there was no real change in the ledge, or fish population, so I decided to check on the north side of the point. Crossing over the point I saw something interesting. Carp… scores of them. They were complete unafraid and swimming all around me. I counted coup on a few before it quickly lost its sense of achievement. They ranged in size from about 18 inches to over 30 (I literally measured a few of the fish with the 20 inch marker on my spear, so I am reasonably confident in this number). Carp are one of the ugliest fish in the sea, but it was still fun to be swimming among so many fish, and was enough to make my day. I wasn’t looking for carp though, I was looking for walleye, and I was feeling confident enough in my diving technique now that I thought I might actually be able to get close to one.

When I reached the other side of the point I saw a very promising sight… submerged trees. Small feeder fish gather in cover, and were the prey goes the predator follows (I read that on the internet, so it had to be true).  Carp still abounded in the area, but I couldn’t see around the bottoms of the cover very well, were the walleye were likely to be. I cocked my spear and flawlessly executed one of my new super stealth dives. I cruised along the base of the brush scanning for fish, and what should I see not six feet in front of me but a telltale white spotted tail. It was the wild and wily walleye!  It was swimming away from me, and I knew I would never win in a race, so time was of the essence. I suppressed the sudden urge to panic and extended my spear for face stabbing. At this point the walleye was about eight feet ahead, which is the outer limit of my range, so it was now or never. I aimed for his nose, released my spear, it shot forward, I felt it connect, and then… the walleye swam away. I was left with nothing but a glimpse of a wounded fish and a crushing feeling of disappointment.

One must know his prey

I was also overcome by an unfathomable bloodlust. Blood was in the water, and now I had to kill something. The first thing I saw that was even remotely edibly appealing was a northern pike (appealing through the red mist at least). The pike let me swim right up to it, and due to my earlier failure I decided to adjust my aim this time, and aimed just in front of the fish. I released, and the spear shot straight in front of the pike’s nose, true to its aim. The fish never so much as flinched. It was beginning to dawn on me how ridiculous I was behaving, but the bloodlust, unfathomable as it was, remained unsatiated. I soon spotted another northern, and it being the stereotypical cocky apex predator, I was able to get within close range. He looked to be nearly 30 inches long, which is a respectable enough size. Now understanding the stoic nature of these slimy bastards, I aimed for the gills. I smote him with a solid blow, but failed the full skewer. The pike floated away, exhibited a strange vibrating death spasm, and sank to the bottom. I had to surface due to a regrettable need for oxygen, but quickly dived again to claim my kill. I now took the opportunity to crudely measure my trophy fish with a twenty inch mark I had placed on my pole spear. To my chagrin, the fish barely cleared twenty inches, and was fairly skinny to boot. Fun Science Fact: Due to the refraction of light between air and water mediums (like that found in a snorkel mask), all objects appear 30% large underwater. I was tempted at this point to abandon my catch. I didn't really want to eat a northern this small, and I really didn't want to clean one, but I had promised myself earlier to eat everything that I killed, so I kept it.

I had apparently acquired a karmic burden for the unnecessary killing of this fish, and the rest of the day did not go well. I got the line to my diver flag tangle in the trees multiple times, fishing line wrapped around my feet and pulled the dive knife off of my leg the one time that I needed it (I blame boat fishermen, I mean come on guys), and my right trigger finger had lost all feeling due to the action of cocking and shooting my spear repeatedly (it has been almost 48 hours and it is still not back to normal). I only saw one more walleye at a distance and soon decided to call it a day since now I needed to clean this fish. The shore was where the worst of my new troubles assaulted me. Wind is good for two things, keeping you cool on a hot day, and keeping flies down. It wasn't windy. An impromptu orgy of flies had started on my gear bag while I was away, but there was no hesitation in moving the location to all my exposed skin when I arrived. I packed up as fast as I could and began the quarter mile walk back to my truck, as my composure quickly crumbled. My only defense was walking like epileptic an riverdancer, and shouting expletives (the expletives didn’t actually scare flies away, but they made me feel better). By the time I reached my truck I was within a hairs-breath of losing my sanity, and had nearly repaid my karma dept. Still, once in the truck I found that my favorite radio station had switched from 80’s and 90’s hits to country, and my last trial was trying to clean my fish. I’m not very good at cleaning fish, and a northern is a really sucky fish to clean, especially when they are small. Luckily I had a fairly dull fillet knife to help… make it suck even harder. This is everything that I ended up with.

Mmm, fish sandwich

Even if most of that story sounds like complaining I still had fun, and consider the day a success. I might have killed a walleye (walleye are known for being able to swim for minutes after death… in my head), I saw a lot of fish, and I got a pretty good sandwich out of it. I should probably get some gloves before next trip though, so my finger doesn't fall off.

TLDR: I suck at spearfishing.

                  

The Greatest Song that Exists for Me in this Universe

                My favorite song is unashamedly “One Night in Bangkok” by the most talented Murray Head, which was released in 1984 (four years before I was born). On a historic note, the song was composed as a part of the musical Chess. It was written by the guys from ABBA (named Björn and Benny in the great Scandinavian naming tradition), and Tim Rice, who is apparently a big deal in musicals. But the history isn’t why I like this song. It is hard to quantify all of the reasons I love this song, but I will do my best.

                First off, is my incalculable love of 80’s music. The 80’s seemed to be a time of rampant creativity in music among other things. The new tools available to musicians, such as synthesizers and music videos were being explored and experimented with to great effect at the time. Musicians weren’t afraid to be different, and there was no formula to what made a hit song. The songs are typically so packed to the gills with intensity that I can’t resist getting into the mood of the music. 80’s musical also has the super convenient feature that all of the bad music has been filtered out in the intervening years, and only the very best samples still circulate today (not to say that there aren’t plenty of good songs that don’t get radio time). To be completely honest I may also like 80’s music, and 80’s culture in general, because of some subconscious desire to be different and shun popular culture of my own time. Clinging to the culture of the past is an easy way to do that, but I’m not a psychologist so this is only speculation (like my self-diagnosed case of Asperger’s). Not only does this song fall into my favorite genre of music, it is also in a couple of my favorite sub-genres.

Murray is having none of it

                One Hit Wonders have a very special place in my heart. The fact that a song is a band’s only hit typically ensures that it is high quality. Many mediocre songs have become hits just based on the artist’s reputation (I’m looking at you “Say Say Say”). For a song to come out of nowhere and become popular across the world means that it has to be something special. “One Night in Bangkok” is just such a wonder.¹ Even I will admit that I don’t like any of Murray Head’s other songs, but that just makes “One Night in Bangkok” even more amazing. Many bands that are called One Hit Wonders had other popular songs (see Two Tribes, or I Wanna Rock), but they just happened not to hit the American Top 40, so they aren’t technically hits. “One Night in Bangkok” is fairly stylistically different from anything else that Murray Head did, so it's like he condensed all of his raunchy 80’s goodness into one song and got solid gold. To specialize even further, my favorite One Hit Wonders are the ones from European artist. Thomas Dolby, The Boomtown Rats, and Nena are all among my favorite musicians, all of them European One Hit Wonders (the Nena thing is probably due to the fact that I have a huge crush on Nena herself, possibly even more than I like Sheena Easton). Murray Head just happens to have being British going for him, which is nice. If you reduce my favorite music down as far as you can go, you will get “One Night in Bangkok.” In other words, it is my atomic favorite song.

Nena: still being sexy to this day

                I don’t just like “One Night in Bangkok” because it is the single best representative of what kind of music I like. The song itself is also an excellent analogy for my whole life. The song tells the story of an American Chess player who finds himself at a world class chess match taking place in Bangkok, Thailand. The American continuously states that he's only interested in chess, while a chorus repeatedly describes the pleasures of Bangkok that he's missing out on. This parallels my life story in the aspect that I prefer to follow intellectual pursuits, while seemingly everyone around me pushes the importance of physical pleasures. My chess game just happens to be activities like reading about philosophy or playing video games at home, and my Bangkok is the much humbler night life of South Dakota. It may just be the common plight of the nerdy introvert, but this song really speaks to me. When I hear the American’s annoyed tone at having to explain why he's happy with what he's doing, I know exactly how he feels. The whole song can be summed up in my favorite line, “I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine.” I will quote that line at the drop of a hat, since it expresses my lifestyle perfectly, and has a much better ring to it than “I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I don’t like casual sex, but I do like science fiction novels.” The song also has other great lines and great rhymes. Other favorites are “This grips me more than would a; muddy old river or Reclining Buddha” or “I’d let you watch, I would invite you; but the queens we use would not excite you.” There are also an epic intro buildup, some good Thailand puns, and Murray’s American accent is entertaining all by itself. Basically, what is not to love about this song? I rate it a Chess King.

[1]          Authors Note: While doing research for this post I found out the Murray Head another hit song with “Superstar”, from Jesus Christ Superstar, that made it to #14 in the U.S. in 1971. That was way back in the 70’s though, so I’m still willing to call “One Night in Bangkok” a One Hit Wonder within the boundary of the 1980’s. 

Sarcasm Quotes

A major problem with writing is a difficulty in effectively conveying sarcasm in text form. Misunderstood sarcasm is quit unfortunate, as it generally entails the opposite meaning as intended being taken from your words. That can cause a lot of problems.

Many people have suggested that a sarcasm font should be chosen, and anything written in said font will be identifiable as sarcastic. I don’t think this is the best solution. Fonts are not the easiest thing to recognize at a glance, and are not easy to display in a variety of programs and medias. My alternative solution to this problem is the subtle and elegant Sarcasm Quote. Behold

^SHello world^S

There you have it. Superscript S’s are all you need to conveniently express facetiousness via written language.  A simple ctrl + shift + + in Microsoft Word, or ^S in HTML, and you have bought yourself a one way ticket to sarcasm town. Never again should an innocently ironic comment be taken literally. Now as far as I know I am the first person to submit this idea. My Google search of “sarcasm quotes” only brought up actual quotes on the topic of sarcasm or in a sarcastic manor.

Possibly the best part of this idea is that it is not just limited to sarcasm. I also advocate Russian Accent Quotes (^RI must break you^R), Arnold and/or Austrian Accent Quotes (^AGet to the chopper^A), and any other accent you can assign a letter to. This solves the problem of writing in an accent, without running the risk of confusing your reader and your spell check. I am yet to think of a use for superscripted numbers as quotes, but I am sure something can be thought of eventually.

Now if you’re thinking that you do all of your sarcastic writing in text messages, and your phone can’t write superscript, I have a solution for you as well. My sarcastic text messages are done as follows. “Oh, that smells like a great time” Cob said sarcastically. I see three strengths to this solution; it add some literary flare to your message, you get to refer to yourself in the third person, and it could probably be considered second degree sarcasm (better than normal sarcasm) since it is being somewhat ironic about its own sarcastic nature. If you are put off by this solution since in involves extra typing, I’m not really that worried. If you can’t be bothered to write out the word “be” in its entirety, then I doubt you are the type of person demands precision of tone in their writing.   

This post has been Revisited.

Why, Dear Boy, Why

The general idea of this blog is for me to write about whatever it is that I feel the need to share with others. It could contain anything from movie reviews, to discussions of science and philosophy. I am basically just using this as a way to store some of the junk in my head on the internet (the internet is cool like that). In the unlikely event that someone finds these inane ramblings entertaining or thought provoking, please feel free to comment, ideas are best when shared (hence this blog). Let the blogging begin.