A Canadian man was falsely accused of being a terrorist. My government secretly shipped him to another country where he was beaten and held for 10 months in a coffin sized cell. There is no excuse for this. Torture produced a false confession from him. The Bush administration advocates this system. Vote them out.
I am at the beginning of a 16 month full time MBA program here at USD. It’s the first year USD has a full time cohort (they’ve been doing part time and international for a while), and they’re doing it presumably in order to get on the rankings.
Another way to get attention would be this: get the Dean arrested. That’s right; our Dean was apparently caught in Cleveland of all places, for “complicity to possess drugs.” Now, buying drugs registers a big zero on my moral outrage scale, but come on. Cleveland? Do you seriously want anything in your body that comes from Cleveland?
UPDATE! For some reason “Breakfast with the Dean” has been renamed to just a breakfast for alumni on the MBA website. They move fast.
So at the end of August, I quite my job and moved out of my old (100+ years) Victorian house in Columbus, Ohio. My girlfriend and I packed up our stuff, put it on a semi trailer and sent it off. We then threw our combined total of four cats in the car and headed west to a two bedroom apartment in San Diego.
We arrived on August 21st. I am enrolled at the University of San Diego’s full time MBA program. It’s the first time they’ve done a full time class, and the first time I’ve lived in California or attended graduate school. I write this on September 15th mainly to note that, while it looks like the sun might break through, this is the first day since we arrived that it hasn’t been sunny for most (or all) of the day. We have yet to see rain.
Life is great.
Ok, so I took the Myers-Briggs test as part of my fancy MBA program. I’ve taken another version of this recently, but this time I came out as:
INTP
Introverted Thinking with Intuition
Now, we did some excercises with a Myer’s-Briggs representative, and she implied that the score in class was probably a little more representative than the online test. So perhaps I’m ISFP (Introverted, Sensing, Feeling, Perceiving). The test I took a couple of months ago came out ISJF, although it was slightly different.
Apparently you move more towards the middle of these things as you age, and given my old man tendancies perhaps that’s why I scored close to the middle on most. Except Introversion. You will all be shocked to know that I do, in fact, “tend to relate easily to [my] inner world of ideas and impressions” as opposed to “relat[ing] easily to the outer world of people and things.”
I have a digital camera again! As such, I can re-enter the community of people who have easy, cheap access to virtually unlimited photographic experimentation. Specifically the subset who likes to read articles on cool things to do with digital cameras, and lessons on how to take nice photographs, and then forget all that on the rare occasion we actually take a picture.
Huzzah!
Phirebrush view.submit.enjoy
we are an online magazine (art group if you want) that displays user submissions in monthly issues. These submissions showcase visitor submitted artwork, photography, music, desktop wallpapers and writings of various styles. Unlike most art groups and e-zines, we let ANYONE submit, trying to showcase both the famous and beginners, giving everyone a voice and a chance in the spotlight. Along with each issue we release an interview as well. We try to spread the variety around, one month talking to an artist, another month with a photographer or maybe a band, spreading insight into their minds and styles.
Jewish family flees Delaware school district’s aggressive Christianity
This is one of the many reasons why separation of church and state is a good thing. I’m keeping it here for the next time one of my extended family spams me a message as to why the ACLU is helping to destroy our country. Our problems are obviously a lack of 10 commandments in schools, not our Christian love of torture or hatred of those scary, scary gay people.
An Island To Oneself – Suvarov, Cook Islands by Tom Neale
An enthralling story of one man’s self imposed hermitage to a tiny island (atoll, technically) in the pacific.
This is the story of the years which I spent alone, in two spells on an uninhabited coral atoll half a mile long and three hundred yards wide in the South Pacific. It was two hundred miles from the nearest inhabited island, and I first arrived there on October 7, 1952 and remained alone (with only two yachts calling) until June 24, 1954, when I was taken off ill after a dramatic rescue.
I was unable to return to the atoll until April 23, 1960 and this time I remained alone until December 27, 1963.