The busker battles cafe electronica

acoustic warrior in a digital damnation

among the fields of barley, bang bang,

over the river cruising for some rain

the 10.05 city loop train swans into the station

gushing and squealing, the people on their phones

engrossed or reticent at their listeners’

hotting-up ears, moon-shadow moon-shadow

clopping heels, kissing greetings

espresso machine gurgle and tinkling teaspoons

the eternal hundred decibels that will outlive you

will out live me, will outlive this migraine

like an abiding sulphur medicine,

remedy from the alarming ring of silence at home.

Elektrosatanisme og annet knask.

Ohoi. Lange arbeidsdager for tiden, derfor har det gått en stund siden forrige innlegg. Kjapp oppsummering på platefronten:

• Utarm er Sindre Foss Schankes herjinger i skjæringspunktet mellom svartmetall og elektronisk støy. Nærmere Burzum enn veldig mye annet nå for tiden. Sjekk ut mer her.

Slik ser det ut når Utarm går live. Eventuelt ikke.

• Them Crooked Vultures er Dave Grohl (Foo Fighters, Nirvana), Josh Homme (Kyuss, Queens of the Stone Age, Eagles of Death Metal) og John Paul Jones (Led Zeppelin) ute med sitt nye band, Them Crooked Vultures. Og fyttirakkern så bra det er. Les mer her.

• Første gangen jeg så Fence live, ble jeg frelst. Et fantastisk band, som leverte med lidenskap og spilleglede. Dessverre ødela debutplaten mye av dette inntrykket. Les mer her.

• Da den nye platen fra Liliedugg kom, måtte jeg sporenstreks tørke støvet av noe gammel vinyl for å gjenoppleve den gamle følelsen. Så kunne den nye platen få gjøre sitt på anlegget. Og jeg ble ikke skuffet. Dette underlige bandet slo aldri gjennom da norsk rårock var på høyden, og det er vel heller tvilsomt at de vil gjøre nå heller. Men alle med en forkjærlighet for virkelig alternativ rock vil finne noe godt her. Les mer.

• Bergenske Dark Essence Records fortsetter å pøse på med spennende, om ikke alltid like jevne, artister. Nestemann ut er Sulphur, og albumet er virkelig, virkelig underholdende. Såfremt man liker progressiv BM, selvfølgelig. Les mer her.

• Egentlig er ikke jeg så begeistret for glatt, poppete doom/death metal, men finske (selvfølgelig) Swallow The Sun imponerte meg med sitt nyeste album. Les mer.

Har sikkert glemt noen i farten, men tar dem i neste runde.

As the river bound posse made headway through the darkened, foggy mist, Sam was calculating the odds that seemed to be against them. The ‘Wanted Man’ they were searching for had about a 2o-hour head start on them. Once they reached the cave, all he expected to possibly find was evidence of some nature that the murderer had been there. If Sam’s hunch was in fact correct, they could pick up the fugitive’s tracks, and be certain of the direction he had taken from there. If they found no evidence whatsoever, Sam had planned to call off the chase and head back towards home. With the temperature dropping the way it was, he figured they’d end up riding back to Bedlam in an ice storm. Sam wasn’t looking forward to that, and if they were to find absolutely nothing at the cave, it wouldn’t have bothered him one bit. His men were so inclined to feel the same way about it. It’s not so hard to feel courageous when you’re comfortable, and they were definitely far from that. The thrill that they’d felt at the start of the chase was now gone. Even though they’d bundled themselves up sufficiently to ward off the rain and the cold, they weren’t ready to withstand it. They were already fed up with the whole thing. On top of that, they were hungry. Then again, they wanted the bonus promised to them. They assumed they’d get it, too, whether or not they caught the murderer. Sam could tell the way they felt, but he was still determined to go at least as far as the cave. He, too, was almost hoping his hunch was wrong, but wasn’t quite ready to admit that to himself. In another five minutes they’d reach the river, and then they could take a break. They’d reached the peak of their uphill climb, and were headed down to the valley. The horses carefully stepped their way between half-hidden rocks submerged in muddied clay.

The road they were on was well traveled, with many a track going in both directions. Hunters a plenty frequented the river valley in the fall. It was known to be a fairly safe journey. Two years earlier, in 1867, the Arapaho tribes had signed a peace treaty, and surrendered away their rights. They were corralled, and then driven down to a reservation in Oklahoma. Our posse didn’t have to worry about Indian attacks, unlike in the old days. Their only worries had to do with the weather, and traversing the slippery slopes. The path that led to the cave had to be taken on foot, but Sam reassured the men that it wasn’t all that steep, nor was it dangerous under normal, dry conditions. That’s why it was a popular hangout. Two paths led to the cave’s entrance, one from above and one from below. Since they were to go in from the river side of the cliff, they’d use the one from below.

As they came upon the river, Sam was gladdened by the sight of low, and slow moving waters. It was as he expected for there’d been no rain as of late. They dismounted and led their horses to the edge for a drink. They were thirsty, but still in good shape from the ride. (Every one of these horses were part of Sam’s stock. They were well-trained 3 to 5 year olds from a fine breed, for Sam could afford the best.) He opened up his saddlebag wherein he kept the provisions, and brought out a handful of deer jerky strips. He gave each man a few pieces, whereupon they did partake of it. They were mighty hungry, and didn’t care what it was. Food was food to them right then. Sam also got out one of the loaves of flatbread from his bag, and then securely tied it back up. He walked up to each man, broke off a piece and handed it to them, before leaving himself at the last with the biggest chunk of the bunch. In silence, this fellowship of men gathered together side by side on the bank of the river, and set their gazes towards the cliffs on the other side. The wind had died down, but the cold mist was beginning to turn into freezing sprinkles. The rations were scarfed down quickly, and a canteen of water was passed back and forth between the men. With their stomachs quieted, and their thirst now quenched, Sam decided he’d better speak on out. “It’s time we get to movin’, boys. We best be saddlin’ up. Let’s go!”

Without asking any questions, or expressing any of their concerns, the men grabbed their horses and climbed aboard. Sam took the lead and led his posse across the cold, shallow waters of the river. They were all lost in thought, wondering what they were going to find once they reached the chosen destination. After they had made it safely to the other side, they headed west and followed the riverbank for the remainder of their five-mile journey. Sam kept looking for fresh tracks all along the way. There were none to be found. A half an hour later, they arrived at the place where the river bends back towards the south. Sam knew then that it was time to look for the trail they needed to take. The trail that would eventually lead them to the cliff was quickly spotted. Sam was a little surprised by how well he remembered the surrounding scenery. He looked back to the men, “Let’s try and get those lanterns started. Find some cover if you need to, but we have to get them lit. If someone were in the cave right now tending a fire, we’d have been able to see the light coming off of it from here. I doubt if there’s anyone up there. Nevertheless, let’s try to keep it quiet anyway. And one more thing, I don’t want any of you boys getting trigger happy once we get up there. I don’t want to get shot in the back. Ya hear me? Okay, then. If there’s going to be a first shot, I plan on being the one who takes it.”

The lantern’s were lit, and they were set to go. “Give me one of those things!” Sam commanded. “Now, follow me. Single file, and keep it down.” The cowboys hadn’t been talking to each other at all, so there was little need for him to say that. They left the riverbank and made way for the target. One hundred zig-zagging yards or so later, they reached the bottom of the cliff. Sam looked around on the ground once again, but still didn’t see any signs of fresh tracks. They got off their horses and tied them up to some of the smaller boulders that were laying in heaps all around them. A few of the horses were acting restless and jumpy, but the men didn’t think anything of it. A light, freezing rain continued to pelt their hats as they continued the rest of the way on foot. “Watch your step men,” Sam reminded them. “It may be slick up there, and it’s a 40 foot drop to the ground.” The trail narrowed, and gradually steepened until it reached the leveled ledge. The ledge itself was about three-fourths of the way up the face of the cliff. It was 4 to 5 feet wide, and nearly 50 yards in length. The mouth of the cave was situated in the middle of this ledge. At the far side of the shelf could be found the second path. It ran steeply on up to the top from there.

They made it up to the ledge without encountering any missteps, and with their backs against the wall began to shuffle across, one by one. Sam was still in the lead, of course, and as soon as he hit the ledge he pulled out his pistol. The men couldn’t help but to notice. If any one of those cowboys hadn’t been awake before, they sure were after Sam did that. Their hands continued to hug the wall as they shimmied on along the rock. Their pistols remained in their holsters, like Sam said. Slowly and carefully they closed in on the entrance. Sam was within 10 yards of the mouth of the cave when he caught a whiff of stale smoke creeping out of it. He stopped his men in their tracks. Another foul scent seemed to be mixed in with the smell of burning wood. But this odor was sickening, putrid, and stank horribly. All the men noticed it, and all the men squirmed up their faces. It reminded Sam of the stench put off by old, rotten eggs. “Someone or something must be in there, or they were just recently,” Sam thought. “Maybe something’s dead.” Sam put the lantern in his leading hand, and held his pistol in the other as he crept on closer still. The cowboys followed after him, more nervous now than ever. Within a foot of the opening Sam stopped and looked back at his men, signaling them to stop. Then he turned himself around and faced the wall.

The arm that held the lantern was lifted and he reached it out into the opening, just enough to shine some light in there. Nothing seemed to stir, so he took off his hat and bent over to the side to take a peek. Seeing nothing, he stuck his whole head out there to look. He saw no signs of life right away, so he turned back to his men. “It looks like the coast is clear. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in there.” Sam nonchalantly walked right on in, and the men, now relieved, followed after him. They were glad enough just to have gotten inside, out of that damn freezing rain. Sam lifted his lantern high. The ceiling stood some 4 feet above his head, and steadily dropped to about 3 feet high just another 50 foot deeper on down into the horizontal hole. Once Sam had gotten the lantern over his head, he thought he could see where that smoke had been coming from. The smell was so nauseating in there, that most of the men held a hand over their nose. They continued their slow walk into the cave with their eyes surveying their whereabouts the whole time. Suddenly Sam stopped. He was looking down at footprints in the dirt, footprints that had been made by someone in their bare feet.

Sam and his men were about to walk up to a bewildering scene beyond compare. It would form for them a picture that would forever be imprinted in their minds. It was to be a sight that would strike and pain them, all the way down to the core; all the way down to the very depths of their souls.

Did you know that over 180,000 people search for information on acne everyday, out of which 77,000 want to know more about acne medicine ? And that there are over 22 million sites talking about acne, and acne medicine, treatment and products ? This tells me a few things. One, there are many people out there suffering from acne, and they are interested in knowing what kind of acne medicine is available to help them cure their problem. Equally, there are millions of available acne treatments and products out there. Obviously, no one acne medicine is suitable for any one person then.

First, a quick review on what acne is. It is what the layperson calls “pimples” or “zits”. There are different forms of acne, and all can occur at the same time, though one stage does not necessarily progress to the next. There are comedones, or blackheads and whiteheads, as they are usually called. Then there are acne spots caused by bacteria, leading to inflammation, resulting in a red possibly painful swelling called a papule. If the papule does not subside spontaneously, a pustule may form. This heals by discharging pus. A severe enough reaction may cause a lot of deep damage, leaving behind scars.

Acne medicine has different purposes. There is acne medicine to prevent acne. There is medicine to prevent infection of the acne. And there is medicine to prevent scarring from the acne. Finally, there is medicine to minimise the effects of acne scarring, should scars form.

Acne medicine can be divided into those that are applied to the skin – called topical acne medicine, and those that are taken orally – called systemic medicine.

Topical treatments come in the form of creams and lotions. There are two main types of topical acne medicine . The keratolytics , which act by peeling off the top horny outer layer of the skin, so helping to dislodge the comedones ( blackheads and whiteheads), and the antiseptics, which attempt to get rid of harmful bacterial action. Examples of keratolytic acne medicine include benzyl peroxide, Retin A, and sulphur. Examples of antispetic acne medicine include iodine ( eg Betadine), chlorhexidine, zinc salts, which are frequently incorporated into acne creams and lotions, azelaic acid.

One of the main problems with topical acne medicine is that they can be rather harsh. They can cause skin irritation and inflammation. Some, like retin A cannot be used during pregnancy. Sulphur containing acne medicines can be extremely smelly, like rotton eggs !

I can still remember the days when acne used to rule my life. I was so desperate for a cure I must have tried every over-the-counter acne medicine there was available. And there were plenty. That was the time when nobody thought acne was a serious problem. Everyone got it. Nobody had died from it. So it never occured to me that maybe I would need help.

It started with a few small spots. So I tried the standard sulphur-based acne medicine. I would apply it just over the offending spots and wait patiently till they went away. But they gradually got worse, with the number of red spots extending to different areas of my face. Soon it covered large areas of my face. I followed the instructions for how to use the acne medicine. I would cover my face with it faithfully every night, and went to bed smelling of sulphur. Even my pillows would smell of it. But I would hope and pray the medicine would do its wonderful work, and my acne would be gone. I always awoke the next day disappointed. I would wash my face, apply on a fresh layer of acne medicine and go about my day. I finally gave up when someone pointed out to me they always knew when I was coming, because the smell of the acne medicine announced my arrival !

I decided to try the benzyl peroxide-based acne medicine next. At least these did not smell of sulphur. The instructions seemed easy enough to follow. Just apply the acne medicine twice a day after washing the face and the acne would be gone within three to five days. It was again with great hope that I applied the new acne medicine. The first night, nothing happened. By the second night, my face was beginning to get a little itchy. By the third night, the side effects of the acne medicine were causing me to have a rather dry and red face. By the fourth night, my poor face was positively uncomfortable. By the fifth night, I gave up. The acne was still there. This acne medicine had not worked either.

Things just got from bad to worse. The small little red spots progressed to big spots. Big spots joined with other spots to form entire continents. There was hardly a clear space on my face. My confidence dipped to an all-time low. Acne ruled my life. It was the first thing I saw when I awoke, and the last thing I saw when I went to bed. Well meaning friends and relatives constantly commented on it and had lots of advice of what type of acne medicine would work best. I had tried everything.

Generally topical acne medicines work well for those with mild acne. A good number can be simply bought over-the-counter without the need of a doctor’s prescription. And for many, this may be the only treatment required for acne.

After two consecutive days of bustling Tokyo, our next destination would be a lot quieter in comparison. On 8 September, we began our quick-stop tour of western Japan, moving from city to city with more speed than a Kenyan sprinter on…speed. Naturally, I’m not going to cover all of the exciting places I visited in one go, so stay tuned for the other four parts after this one (yes, this is a ten part ordeal, be amazed). Having spent a week in and around the buzzing centre of the country, I was beginning to think that nothing outside Tokyo or Yokohama existed.

I was filled with considerable anticipation, then, when it was announced that we would be travelling deep into the unknown hill-country of Shizuoka. Of course, it wasn’t unknown at all, but I liked to think it was, like I was some sort of intrepid Anglo-Irish explorer, conquering the terrain of some utterly alien new land. In writing that sentence, it has become clear to me that I need to start reading/playing less fantasy lest I sound like a total psychopath. Regardless, on our drive from the suburbia (I use the term suburbia very lightly, as it doesn’t seem to exist in Japan) of Kanagawa, there was plenty a beautiful sight to behold, and most of it to the soundtrack of Pokémon, as during our four hour drive to our mountain lodgings, I don’t think H.’s mix-CD was changed once. I now know the lyrics to two of the said cartoon series’ opening themes, as of course for me to have known them beforehand would have been absolutely preposterous…ahem.

Surviving miles of long-winding and often treacherous roads, we eventually arrived at our ryokan, a traditional Japanese-style inn. Nestled deep in the hills, ‘idyllic’ would have been putting it lightly. Indeed, as the title of this post suggests, I really did feel like we were some sort of travelling samurai, stepping backwards in time to a now sadly dwindling Japanese Japan, with paper walls, sliding doors, futons and the like. Aside from my unfounded nostalgia and the obvious impracticalities of using paper walls and mats for flooring in a 21st century world of skyscrapers and bullet-trains, it was fantastic nonetheless. Taking off our shoes at the entrance (as is typical in Japanese houses), we were escorted to our room. Sliding the highly ornate door aside revealed a large open space with nothing but a table and some small cushions for us to sit ourselves down on, an alcove by the window adjoined.

Up the road from the ryokan.

Setting our bags down and helping ourselves to a rather pungent, yet equally delicious sweet rice-ball thing, we decided to bathe. This particular ryokan was of the hot-spring variety (more sausage, folks!), though this time it was a  private affair, so the three of us had a bath to ourselves. For any reader that’s just joined in this epic tale, nakedness is something that the Japanese take with a pinch of salt and a degree of gusto, and rightfully so. I think it’s high-time that the Europeans and Americans got off their high-horses of prudery and realised that, well, every man has a penis and every girl has a vagina. Unless you are transsexual and therefore have the best of both worlds. Either way, big bloody whoop. Inconveniently for three heterosexual males, our outdoor grotto bath was shamefully romantic, perhaps best suited to couples, rather than rabbles of young men. The water was hot indeed, whilst the overpowering odour of sulphur made soaks of more than five minutes difficult.

More of the ryokan's scenery. No bathing men, sorry!

Returning from the bath-house to our rooms, adorning some traditional Japanese robes in the process (think tailored dressing-gowns), we were quickly ushered into an adjacent dining room where supper had been delightfully provided for us. It was the real deal – sushi, sashimi, tempura, you name it. Salmon, tuna, squid, shrimp and chicken (the cooks had angelically taken it upon themselves to rustle up some meat for the duo of European palates) accompanied by pickled vegetables, all washed down by a pint of very refreshing beer. It was a mouthgasm, and that was putting it lightly. Stomachs full, we lumbered back to our room to find that while we had been eating, the small table that had once graced the centre had now disappeared and laid down in its stead were futon, Japanese bed-rolls. Considering the handiwork of magical Japanese elves (and not the inn staff), I collapsed into…well, not sleep, actually. It took absolutely sodding ages for me to venture off into the realm of slumber because of my ridiculously hard pillow; so hard was it in fact, that when I woke up in the morning, I had more knots in my shoulder muscles than a suicide-bomber has virgins in Paradise.

A scroll in our room, supposedly to ward off evil spirits.

Sadly, we had to make a quick exit if were to get to Nagoya (our next stop) on schedule. We had a huge and hearty breakfast; traditional meals are hard to differentiate in Japan.  Breakfast has miso soup, as does supper. It has fish and meat too, not unlike supper. And of course, the ubiquitous pot of rice is on hand at any meal you care to imagine. Fresh fruit was pretty much all that defined our morning meal from the food we had eaten the night before, though it was still thoroughly delicious. If there’s one thing the Japanese have certainly mastered, it’s the culinary arts.

Breakfast.

Thus it was over; we exchanged our yukata robes for our t-shirts and shorts, our wooden sandals for our shoes, our welcoming, slightly uncomfortable futon for our travel-bags and headed for the entrance. The ryokan keeper pounced on us from the desk (in a nice way, you understand, not in some sort of angry lioness way) and demanded we take a free gift back with us. From amongst paper-fans, cloth and chopsticks, I took a  black and gold floral wash-bag, something that my father now uses to keep his Fixodent and dental-floss in. Nice.

Out into the mountain, we hit the road.

published Oct. 30, 2009

BY VANESSA C. DEGGINS
Three Sulphur women were sentenced in U.S. District Court on Thursday on charges of conspiracy to transport illegal immigrants.

Carolyn Joyce Metcalf was sentenced to 2 1/2 years in prison and three years’ probation; Terri Lynn Fields was sentenced to two years and three months in prison and three years’ probation; and Jean Morgan Vincent was sentenced to three years’ probation.

The maximum penalty is five years in prison.

According to court documents, the women were recruited by Joan R. Comeaux, also of Sulphur, to take illegal immigrants from the southern Texas border to other locations within Texas.

About a dozen trips reportedly took place between 2005 and 2007.

Comeaux, along with one or more of the three women, would drive to Harlingen, Texas, to coordinate with drivers who did the actual transporting of illegal immigrants.

On average, Comeaux paid the women $500 for each trip.

Metcalf said she and Fields made the trips without Comeaux at least five times in nine months.

During those trips, they drove to Houston in a personal vehicle, rented a different vehicle, and took three to eight immigrants from Harlingen to Houston.

Comeaux is scheduled to be sentenced Dec. 10.

Flight path

Shortly before leaving Kenya to begin our move to Cyprus, we spent a weekend in a cabin at the Pinklakeman’s resort in Lake Elementaita, a couple of hours drive north of Nairobi.

The lake is famous for its flamingoes, who enjoy eating the spirulina algae which thrive on the sulphurous hot spring water that feeds one end of the lake.

We wallowed in the hot pool that is formed by these springs, though it took care to avoid the debris left by local maasai women who wash clothes there. The mineral-rich water has an oily feel which, we hope, is good for the skin – though it makes it harder to get dry afterward.

Kira in the pink

1. Refugees, People Smugglers, and Illegal Immigrants. By boat or plane, by fair or foul means, hundreds of people from around the world, especially those stressed nations to our north, Sri Lank, Afghanistan, Iraq, but even India, Eastern Europe and Africa – are trying to get to the top of the long queue of refugees and migrants applying to Australia. We should welcome everyone coming to Australia as one of us, but that strictures should apply for three reasons:
a) noone should prevent another more worthy from being here per force of their audaciousness;
b) corrupt and criminal elements must be guarded against but I suspect most of these come by ordinary means ie plane;
c) Even at the maximum population growth rate that Australia could handle, it is a small amount compared to the great numbers of refugees and would-be migrants, so a disciplined entry is absolutely important. Australia’s immigration policy should represent one prong on a policy fork that helps the whole world deal with the massive social changes it is undergoing.

2. Human Rights legislation. A report looking at possible legislation has divided the national view. It seems expert opinion is leaning to the ‘against’ argument. What has come to the fore is the essential need for a robust democratic process, policy to advance the disadvantaged, separation of government and judicial powers, clear law-making and equality under those laws, and strong anti-corruption processes. Indeed, what are our rights: to clean air, clean water, nutrition, shelter, and to have control of our own lives within the society. There are also society’s rights: to make rules, everyone to contribute, society to advance. At the interface of these rights are social principles that laws should either support or not interfere: unfettered intercultural interaction, elimination of prejudice, equality of men and women, education of all from infancy, allowing unfettered investigation of truth, compatibility between science and religion, economic justice, and community justice and peace.

3. Climate Change. A big 4 experts in the field of climate change have come to the conclusion that it is impossible to have any accuracy in predicting the 30 – 40 year climate change scenario, not to worry about inundation of coastline for the next hundred years, and that it will take 50 years to get to a CO2 stabilising level with the most pro-active energy change measures. They suggest piping 100,000 tons of sulphur dioxide into the stratosphere to create cooling of the poles, and they have designed the technology to do, along with very modest cost (11 billion per year). I like the sheer geekiness of this solution but I worry about any solution that send out a message, “Keep being destructive, uncaring, greedy, some scientists have your back.” We don’t really know what we’re up against. We need to be increasingly more considerate, and more adaptable, to get through the next 500 – 1000 years. Highly likely that over that time we will actually be entering another ice age. Should we stop it happening by early artificial cooling of the planet?

*published Oct. 19, 2009

BY VANESSA C. DEGGINS
A Lake Charles woman died after being ejected from a vehicle in a Sunday afternoon accident on Interstate 10, according to State Police Troop D.

At around 2:30 p.m., Sharon Guidry, 42, of Lake Charles lost control of her utility vehicle when a tire blew out as she was traveling west between Vinton and Sulphur, said Trooper Stephen LaFargue.

She ran off the road, stuck a sign and flipped several times.

One of Guidry’s passengers, Courtney Guidry, 21, also of Lake Charles, was not wearing her seat belt and was ejected. She was pronounced dead upon arrival at Lake Charles Memorial Hospital.

The driver and three other passengers were taken to Memorial Hospital with minor injuries.

link: http://bit.ly/3XU5Oe

You know Diwali is near when the smell of sulphur permeates everything, and the nights are filled with shouts and noisy firecrackers. On the day before Diwali everything had already gone into high gear, even in a small town like Pondicherry. The kids on my street started off the festivities the first thing in the morning, and by now the combined effect of every family in the area doing the same filled the tar roads with the little red remains of the crackers, and made your eyes burn with the pollution. And I had to catch my flight to Mumbai, because spending Diwali with family is what you’re supposed to do. Not that my boss had given me leave – no way. I just had to take my half day anyway.

The non-ac rented car that drove me  to the airport had seats filled with golden glitter. I brushed off as much as I could before getting comfortable. But the thing about glitter is that it sticks to your hands, and hides in seat corners in the most annoying way. Clearly the previous occupants of the car were really in a festive mood. The traffic was crazy, and the highway was bustling. Everybody who was anybody seemed to be on the roads, or in their cars going somewhere.

My flight was delayed by 3 hours, so that was a total of seven hours of waiting. The first four hours driving to the airport, and the next three waiting for my flight to start boarding. I waited patiently with the other commuters from my flight. Everyone eyed each other’s bag tags, checking if we were all on the same flight. I watched as hundreds of people got into their flights before me. I passed the time by memorizing the ceiling, consuming my iPod’s battery, wandering around Chennai airport, reading a book, and calling everyone I knew who would pick up the phone at that time.

Taking off was beautiful because we flew over the city lights at night, and the firecrackers were going off across the city. It was a breathtaking sight, we were flying over them as they exploded, and they seemed to be bursting in synchronization, in all colors, green, red, blue, and white; and those little plain ones too, the ones that go off without a shower of sparks.

All the business people seated around me on the flight were already asleep, uninterested in the view. I wanted to wake everyone up and show them what they were missing. When would you be flying over Chennai city on the night of Diwali next? But I didn’t, and enjoyed the view on my own.

Sao Paulo, one of the world’s largest cities, would save 745 lives annually if it replaced the use of diesel fuel with ethanol, according to a University of Sao Paulo pathologist Another 130 deaths, primarily from respiratory diseases and cancer, would be prevented if ethanol replaced gasoline, said Helio Saldiva Wednesday at a agriculture-based energy conference in Brasilia. Brazil’s gasoline already contains 22%-25% ethanol.

“Our diesel in Brazil is unacceptably dirty,” Helio said at the conference. “About 14,000 people will die in Sao Paulo by 2020 if we don’t clean up our act,” he said. Much of the diesel sold in Brazil contains more than 1,000 parts per million of sulfur, he said. Because much of Brazil’s transportation relies on diesel engines (namely, buses and trucks), the airborne levels of formaldehyde in Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro, Brazil’s two largest cities, are as much as double that in Los Angeles, a city that suffers some of the worst U.S. air pollution. Much of the health effect of Brazil’s fossil fuels could be eliminated by using ethanol, Saldiva said.

*published Oct. 15, 2009

BY VANESSA C. DEGGINS
SULPHUR — Sulphur police have arrested a man in connection with an Oct. 10 shooting in which two people were shot, one of whom was a woman who was six months pregnant.

Linus Cahee, 21, of Sulphur, was charged with three counts of attempted second-degree murder and one count each of aggravated assault and possession of a firearm by a convicted felon, said spokesman Mel Estess.

Judge Robert Wyatt set his bond at $335,000.

The shooting reportedly happened at about 8:45 p.m. near the corner of Alice and Elm streets.

“Detectives believe Cahee approached the front of the vehicle and opened fire on the occupants,” Estess said. “The woman was shot in the abdomen, and a male in the back seat was shot twice in the left arm and back.”

He said a third occupant was not injured. The mother and child and all of the occupants are expected to recover fully, Estess said.

link: http://bit.ly/4iUbvs

Getting up at the ungodly hour of 5am in -20 degree weather was quite difficult, even if i had every bit of clothing i bought away with me on, i would still be freezing and possibly turning blue. Once up though i had my self some coffee and did my Flashdance run around and off we went.

It was still dark when we headed off, i thought today might have been a long day, but apparently it was going to be done by 9am.. well for those who weren’t heading back to Uyuni it was going to be a short day i guess. The first stop we made was at the Solar de Manana geyser basin, it is basically some sulphur pools and some man made geysers (according to our driver they are man made), it was bloody cold, so we got some token shots in the sulphur steam and jumped back in the van, the sun was still rising at this point so it was quite beautiful.. just cold!.

Sulphur Pits

Man Made Blow Holes

Maybe our driver was just smart, maybe lazy and hated cooking breakfast in the cold winds, but we seemed to be the only group not eating breakfast at the Termas de Polques hot springs. I thought the springs were going to be one of the highlights over the course of the 3 days, but how disappointed i would be.. it was nothing like the Fuentes Georginas that i visited in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala. Still, it may have been -15 degrees outside but i striped right down to my boardies (which was one of the items i wore to bed the night before) and went in for a paddle. It was worth it, i was the only one from our jeep brave enough to do it, and the view of the sun coming up over the desert was fantastic, i wish i could of stayed longer!

The Hot Springs!

Happy Chappy!

After getting my 3 layers of clothes back on we hopped back in the jeep and made our way to Laguna Verde, a short drive past the hot springs and we were greeted with the view of a turquoise Laguna with the stunning backdrop of volcan Lincacabur. It was quite a spectacular sight, just the water coloured green by the minerals, Arsenic, Lead, Copper was enough for me, never mind the towering volcano behind it.

Laguna Verde Panorama

Little did i know that Laguna Verde would be the last stop of the tour, as we reached the Bolivia/ Chile border posts it felt a bit sad as our group of 7 was splitting up and heading different directions, me and a couple others to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile, and the rest back to Uyuni.

Overall the trip was fantastic, the driver didnt say much but was knowledgable in every way, and his kitchen skills were not too bad either. But what made the 3 days so fantastic was the group of 7 people who made up our jeep, so me and 3 others knew each other before we even reached Uyuni but that didnt matter, because by the last day we all got to know each other very well, and it worked. OK i may have offended the Canadian couple with my potty mouth, and i dont think the Korean backpacker enjoyed being called Annyong, but oh well, i think they got over it.

Onwards and Upwards!

As I sit here and type this, I can look down at my hands and see a least three cuts or abrasions in various states of self-repair. If I turn them over… I can’t type any more.

I could also find three or four more.

This is not an uncommon state to find my hands in. Bandages are a common accessory and the scars that criss-cross my fingers, palms and forearms are plentiful and, to me, read as some of my life’s stories. I can’t say that remember where all of them came from, but I can tell you about some of the major ones. The long curve between two knuckles on my left hand made by a slipped screwdriver, the three parallel lines on the outside of my right thumb from the hand saw that I didn’t see until it was too late or the blobby one on the back of my left hand made by the hot lead dripping off the soldering iron. They make me think of the projects that I’ve tackled and that tackled me back just a bit.

I work with my hands a lot and to any one who takes a moment to notice, it shows. I’ve always been somewhat proud of that. When I was a child, I remembering looking down at my soft, doughty hands and then at my father’s and marveling that someday, they might look like his. Mine seemed impossibly soft and round. The backs stood up like little hills and the mole that sat like a small bug on the back of my left hand was the only mark of distinction that I could find. Other than that, they could have been anyone’s. Any kids, at any rate.

Dad’s hands however had veins that stood out boldly as they twisted over knuckles and the scars dotted here and there, made them unique. On one hand, the size of a shelled peanut is a little mound of smooth flesh, devoid of any hairs and a slightly different hue than the rest of his skin, browned in the summer sun. Being the sort of kid who asked questions unabashedly, I inquired as to what happened here. Being the sort of Dad who indulges, he told me:

Many years ago, while he sat in high school chemistry class, the teacher was doing a demonstration. This particular experiment involved a Bunsen burner, a beaker and a small amount of sulphur. What ever the experiment was meant to show, the lesson that my father took away with him was that, A: melting sulphur can and will at times jump out of the beaker and, B: if it lands on your skin, it will immediately burn a hole through it until it cools off enough to stop. Then it will crystallize.

To this day, a small yellow-green patch sits at the bottom of my Dad’s scar, a memento of his school career. I was always taken by both the story and the mark it left and recall many instances of sitting in my Dad’s lap or near enough to touch him and quietly poking the scar and looking for the yellow-green at the bottom.

Since those days, my own hands have taken a lot of use and abuse. Though my love of collecting and using tools has taken its toll, the hardest work they ever put in was when I had my own manufacturing business. It was very hands-on type of work and the thing that my hands were on was clay. Lots and lots of clay. ;

Clay is insidious stuff. It’s smooth to the touch, cool and mushes easily in your hand. Other than being heavy to move around, it’s pretty simple stuff to work with in a lot of ways. What it also does is suck the moisture right out of every pore you have. Add to this that hand lotion and clay do not play well together, and you have a recipe for some seriously dry hands, especially come winter. The other thing about clay is that it’s like semi-liquid sand paper. It might be a very fine grit, but it still scours away at your skin. Do this for about ten years, and the result looks like this…

That’s my hand just a few days before I sold the company and decided to do something else to earn my cookies and milk. I tell you honestly, there is not enough moisturizer in the world to heal those cracks. Ten months later, they look much happier, and so, by the by, am I.

Over the months I’ve been home, I’ve bent my will and tools to making our house look more like we want it to and less like a pile of lumber and shingles that have been dumped into the approximate shape of a house. My hands have been working hard, and Short Stack has noticed.

Like most children, he is obsessed with Band-Aids and will cry for one to cover the most minor of abrasions. To a kid, putting a Band-Aid on something is almost a magical experience and is viewed as a near panacea for all woes. When he spots some cut or blister on my own hands, his first inclination is to take me to the bathroom to get a Band-Aid for it. Some times I agree and we head off to cover the damaged digit with a dancing Snoopy or other cartoon emblazoned sterile strip. Other times, I tell him that I’m fine and that it will heal on its own. That doesn’t seem to bother him too much but I can see him think about it and wonder.

I look down at his hands and then at my own. Devoid of any obvious and permanent marks, they are pretty much as they were meant to be. My daughter, Lulu Belle’s are the only ones in the house that are cleaner and softer. Not even two years old yet, they are delicate, smooth and puffy, the knuckles existing only as dimples. Both of them will see many changes in their hands as time goes by. The thought of scars marring their tiny hands turns my stomach, even as I look at my own scars with pride. How funny.

I’ll happily show them someday how to use their hands to build and make things, though I know it will inevitably result in skun knuckles, scrapes or worse. That’s a given. It’s part of using something whether it be a machine that gets dinged and scratched with use or our own bodies. I still feel that it’s important to use them, though.

I’ll just try to keep them away from the clay. That and teachers with shaky hands and Bunsen burners.

So… last time we wrote we had just arrived at Hamner Springs.  In the Canterbury region of New Zealand, this little town is very relaxing and appears to be a weekend getaway for Christchurchians.  (We also arrived on a Saturday so we noticed this – there are not many places where there are more locals than tourists!).

As you know, we’ve had a busy few weeks to say the least, so we decided to do some relaxing!  We went out for dinner in a nice local pub, which was interesting because the All Blacks were playing South Africa.  It was good to see how involved everyone was and to see them singing along with the national anthem etc.  It was quite crowded in the pub! 

The following day we went on a forest walk around the town, up to ‘Conical Hill’ and back to the campsite.  Parts of it were quite tiring, but we knew we were heading to the natural hot springs, which kept us going!  We went to them in the late afternoon and they were really nice.  There were many springs, like giant baths but outside and you could pick your temperature (e.g. 36, 38 or 40 degrees).  All very relaxing, but some of them were quite smelly, containing natural sulphur!

We left Hamner Springs feeling rejuvenated and went to Kaikoura!  This is a lovely little seaside town on the north-east coast of the South Island.  You can see seals chilling out on the local beach and across the bay the mountains meet the sea, which looks really picturesque.  There are also whales and dolphins around so we booked a tour to go out to sea and see the dolphins for the next day.  However, that day (this morning!) was very windy and the trip had to be cancelled.  Never mind, we hope to see more of the dolphins at the Bay of Islands.

Jeg tenkte jeg skulle sette opp en liste over artister og band jeg mener er nevneverdige av forskjellige grunner. Listen er høyst subjektiv, om noen er utelatt, er det fordi jeg ikke fant dem for god fisk. (Men for all del, de er sikkert flinke de.) Trykk på navnene for å komme til bandenes myspace-sider.

John Olav Nilsen & Gjengen
Høyaktuelle med plateslipp mandag førstkommende. Et album som har høstet masse gode kritikker, og et album jeg kommer til å ta for meg når jeg får tak i det.

Datarock
Rødt har alltid vært fargen i Bergen by, og Datarocks andrealbum Red er fantasisk. Musikken egner seg godt til fest, og å se dem live er fest. Frontfigur Fredrik Saroea er en legende.

Fjorden Baby!
Fjorden var kanskje det første bandet som ble en del av den siste Bergensbølgen med sin kav bergenske Karoline. Sinnsyke tekster, skitne melodier.

Sulphur
Det er tid for propaganda! Og death metal! Min fetter er vokalist i dette beinharde metalbandet, som synger både på engelsk og norsk. Growling på bergensk er sjelden kost.

The New Wine
Dette bandet vant Eggstock-festivalen 2008, en festival hvor jeg selv deltok med mitt band (ikke spør hvordan det gikk.) Spiller masse konserter i innland og utland. Fantastisk samspill og deilig harmoni.

Forza
Vant Oppdrag Demo i BA i fjor og får derfor spille inn plate. Ikke et minutt for tidlig. Trolig det mest internasjonale bandet i Bergen. Tango, rap og sigøynermusikk. A-fucking-mazing!

Matias Tellez
Vant fjorårets Urørt-konkurranse med en av byens mest fengende sanger; Brand New Kicks. Den blide chileneren er ikke som andre bergensartister. Han skal nemlig straks ut på sin andre(!) Japan-turné.

Razika
Byens beste jenteband! Razika har alt fra desperate reggea-kjærlighetssanger til dansbare indiepop-sanger. Jentene har nettopp spilt i Berlin, og har blant annet varmet opp for Ida Maria.

Kakkmaddafakka
Bandet med det beste navnet, det beste liveshowet. Kakkmaddafakka er egentlig bare fem stykk i bandet, men kan bli et tosifret antall musikere på scenen. Får gamle mennesker til å danse på bord.

Limstift
Vant årets Eggstock-festival. Kanskje det eneste nevneverdige prog-psykedeliske bandet i byen? Kanskje den tighteste ungdomstrommeslageren i byen? Synger på kaaaaaav bergensk og litt til.

MURO
Ny era for propaganda. Bandet jeg spiller i. Vær grei å sjekk det ut… VÆR SÅ SNIIIIILL!!!!

Casiokids
Musikkmagazinet NME kalte dem “the best thing to come out of Norway since black metal.” Electropop og skyggeteater. Siddiser tror de synger på bergensk, bergensere tror de synger på rogalandsk. Spilte barnehageturné i 2006.

Welcome sulphur dioxide,
Hello carbon monoxide
The air, the air is everywhere
Breathe deep, while you sleep, breathe deep

Er…what?  Create artificial trees to catch CO2 in the air?  Launch billions of sunshades into space?  Spew sulphur into the atmosphere to cool it down?

What are you crazy?!

These are some of the ideas being thrown about to curb the presumed warming of the planet.  Though the first two just sound like a good waste of money, money that could be spent making peoples lives better, the last, of creating artificial volcanoes to throw sulphur into the air, sounds absolutely barking.

Lets go back to school science.  Sulphur, in the form of sulphur dioxide from cars and industrial pollution goes into the air.  When it rains it dissolves into the water and falls as sulphuric acid which in turns enters water ways and falls on forests.  The sulphuric acid kills plants, lowers pH in lakes and rivers killing water life and more obviously for us, destroys important monuments.  And here’s a picture:

Acid rain effects

Note, KILLS PLANT LIFE.  They propose an idea that may well drop the temperature of the atmosphere, but at the same time kill off one of natures ways of dealing with CO2 in the atmosphere.

“Of course it’s desperation,” said Stanford University professor Stephen Schneider. “It’s planetary methadone for our planetary heroin addiction. It does come out of the pessimism of any realist that says this planet can’t be trusted to do the right thing.”

Except Professor Schneider, Methadone is used to ween people off they’re heroin addictions.  In your analogy, solar and wind powered energy generation is the methadone, a replacement for the dangerous substances that are coal, oil and gas.  Any far-fetched scheme like those above will only allow us to keep our addictions as we can justify our continual pumping of carbon dioxide into the air.

And I don’t know any realistic person who would personify the planet to make the statement that it can’t be trusted to make decisions!  It’s a rock, revolving around a star that just happens to be the only place we have to live.  It can’t be trust to do the right thing?  For whom?  Itself?  Actually, maybe wiping out the human species (or at least a fair chunk) could be exactly what the planet needs.

Please people, we cannot manage  what we don’t understand. Can we please try and understand what we are seeing in our world before jumping on the hysterical hype-wagon and proposing suicidal measures like the one above.

I really hope in 20 years I can look back on this blog and laugh until tears roll down my face, and not from shame.

For the past couple of weeks I’ve been busy at work and busy at home so I’ve just been taking calcium/magnesium everyday and hoping for the best. I’ve felt really good of late with none of the weird symptoms.

Every once and a while I’ll do a bit of research and get something in my head that sounds like a good idea. Today I found an article that talked about taking sulfur (MSM) for allergies.

SULFUR AND ALLERGIES

Over 40 million people are affected by allergies with reactions ranging from somewhat bothersome to potentially fatal. An allergic response occurs when the body’s immune system reacts to otherwise harmless substances we call allergens. Your body produces antibodies to fight the allergens. Once our immune system decides that a particular type of pollen, for example, is a hostile invader, it becomes “sensitized” to it, and reacts by producing antibodies that give us allergy symptoms. This can last for years, and perhaps a lifetime.

Dr. Earl L. Mindell, R.Ph., Ph.D., recommends allergy sufferers begin taking at least 6,000mg of MSM per day for three weeks and reduce to 3,000mg per day thereafter. Additionally, he recommends people drink more water and increase their intake of Vitamin C to lower histamine levels. Allergy sufferers who use MSM swear by it.

6,000mg of MSM per day for three weeks?? Wow that sounds like a lot. Here’s an article that suggests a relationship with amino acids.

Sulfur – The Protein Building Block

Sulfur has a vital relationship with protein, since sulfur is found in the amino acids methionine, cystine, and cysteine. Thus, these amino acids are known as the sulfur bearing amino acids which are considered the building blocks of protein.

The sulfur-bearing amino acid methionine is absolutely essential to health! This means it must be supplied by live food, or the food supplement MSM. My oral chelation formula, of course, contains both cysteine and methionine. When you are deficient in these amino acids, your muscles and body will weaken. If you take “enough” you get a strong body. If you take “too much,” the extra cysteine, for instance, will be used to get rid of toxic metals in the body. So, it’s rather hard to take “too much” of these sulfur amino acids.

The MSM won’t do the same thing as cysteine, but your body can manufacture cysteine for cell building out of the MSM that you give it. So, MSM is a vital nutrient that you should have in your daily dietary intake.

A lack of proper protein in our diet, therefore means a lack of the vital organic sulfur necessary for good health. Proteins contain sulfur, while carbohydrates and fats do not.

Sulfur is necessary for collagen synthesis. Collagen is an insoluble fibrous protein found in vertebrates. It is the dominant component of connective tissue and bones. Sulfur operates as a synthesizer and activator with the B vitamins, thiamin, vitamin C, biotin, and pantothenic acid, all of which are needed for metabolism and healthy nerves.

Sulfur plays an important part in tissue breathing, the process whereby oxygen and other substances are used to build cells and release energy.

published Aug. 25, 2009
Dealerships welcome hectic last day of rebates
BY VANESSA C. DEGGINS

Clunkers traded for new vehicles at Mark Dodge in Lake Charles wait for their demise in a field behind the dealership. BY KAREN WINK

Area car dealers enjoyed a roller-coaster ride on Monday, the final day of the Car Allowance Rebate System, also known as the Cash for Clunkers program.

“It’s been crazy, but a good crazy,” said King Bolton, general manager of Bolton Ford.

Unlike some area dealerships, Bolton Ford accepted customers up to the 7 p.m. deadline.

Billy Navarre Chevrolet and Suzuki Auto Plex also accepted buyers until the deadline.

Most dealerships decided to stop on Saturday or by 2 p.m. Monday because of multiple crashes with the filing system.

The widespread system problems led the Obama administration to extend the filing deadline until noon today.

“This might be an allnighter for us,” said Doug Cosgro, Internet sales manager for Suzuki Auto Plex in Sulphur.

He said the dealership has sold about 20 cars through the Cash for Clunkers program, with the most popular models being the GSX-R crossover and XL7.

According to sales personnel at Mark Dodge in Lake Charles, the dealership had more than 50 clunkers traded in for new cars under the U.S. Department of Transportation’s Car Allowance Rebate System, or CARS. BY KAREN WINK

At All-Star Pontiac, owner Jack Hebert said the dealership also sold about 20 cars through the program.

“We had some that didn’t qualify and bought cars anyway,” Hebert said. He said the dealership also sold a lot of used cars.

“The publicity of the program has sparked people’s interest and movement in general I think,” Hebert said.

For others, he said, they did appraisals of the vehicles to make sure the owners know the gas mileage and current value.

Bolton said the program also spurred consumer confidence.

“We tend to be conservative down here, so if your neighbor or friend is buying a new car, you might be more inclined to,” Bolton said.

All of the dealerships said things were only a little slow before the program started.

“We were doing OK in February and March, but this will definitely keep us from having excess inventory,” said Phillip Tarver, general manager for Lake Charles Toyota.

The next big step for dealers: waiting for government reimbursement and trashing the clunkers.

“We drain all the fluids and pour sodium silicate (also known as liquid glass) into the engine, and we run it until the motor locks up,” said Marsh Buice, general sales manager with Mark Dodge.

He said the dealership has sold about 60 vehicles through the program.

Most of the dealers said they have only been reimbursed for a few cars or none at all, but said they don’t expect that to be a problem.

“You know, we’ve done everything right and trust the government will follow through,” Bolton said.

link:http://bit.ly/3EGVxT