Monday, December 26, 2005
Friday, December 16, 2005
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Monday, December 12, 2005
Lisa with Scorpion, Photograph by Robert Mapplethorpe. Silver Gelatin Print with graphite. 1981-1983.
Over this past week I have looked at hundreds of Mapplethorpe images. This is a superb, stunning image, unique and interesting, and among my favorites. Lisa Lyon was the first women's body builder champion and one of Mapplethorpe's favorite models.
This is available through: Vered Gallery (631) 324-3303 Janet Lehr Inc., NY.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Saturday, December 10, 2005
The witnesses said the squirrels fiercely eviscerated the dog (One could have seen a top model "eviscerate" a dog, too). When the people rushed to rescue the dog it was too late. The fight between the dog and the squirrels lasted for not longer than a minute. When the triumphant squirrels saw the humans approaching, they scattered carrying pieces of the prey in their mouths.
The incident made locals incredibly cautious and people now prefer to pass the park by and do not let children play there (Be really careful should you decide to put them to sleep instead). People fear that savage squirrels may attack someone again. One of the locals says that if another accident occured there it would make sense to fix traps in the forest to catch squirrels.
Mikhail Tiunov from the Far East Department of the Russian Academy of Sciences says he has never heard about squirrel attacking other animals before. "This sounds nonsensical that squirrels attacked a stray dog and tore it to pieces. If this actually happened, the life of squirrels in the forest seems to be really hard this year. It is typical of squirrels to feed on nuts, seeds and mushrooms. And it is unlikely that squirrels have become so aggressive as a result of some mutation," Newsru quoted the expert as saying (From Pravda.ru).
I have to say at this point -- that the picture I get of carniverous squirrrels feeding on nuts is more than a bit disheartening, but then when I looked at the deadly peanutbutter kiss story linked to that -- it became clear that either someone is a bit nutty, or there is no correlation whatsoever between the words "feed on nuts" and the story linked to it.
After I had followed the links for a while I found myself reading this story about what I would call a disaster:
A top environmental protection official urged residents of Russia's Far East city of Khabarovsk on Tuesday not to panic over a toxic soup headed their way on the Amur River, drinking a glass of water as television cameras rolled to demonstrate uthorities had the situation under control. But a spokesman for the World Wide Fund for Nature said the river faced "ecological catastrophe" as an 80-kilometer (50-mile) long slick of chemicals floated toward the Russian border from China, where a Nov. 13 explosion at a chemical plant spewed it into the Songhua River.
Again -- it is astonishing -- what the links hook to -- And I really thought that this blogperson might want to know that the Pravda story has linked to his article. Let's keep in mind that I don't really agree with any of this -- but just want to point out the sanity of the links in the Pravda Article.
I think I am going to start making links like this -- which I will hereinafter call "Pravda Style" linking. This could be very interesting -- when defined as having anything even vaguely related to the story. It could be much more entertaining than the other options.
Have a great Saturday -- enjoy your coffee and steer clear of the nuts.
Thursday, December 8, 2005
Sunday, December 4, 2005
Saturday, December 3, 2005
It appears that the state of Iowa has an American Kestral Trail along one of it's highway coridors, with a nestbox every mile:
In 1983 Ron Andrews of the Iowa Department of Natural Resources originated the interstate nest box program for American Kestrels. Working in cooperation with the Iowa Department of Transportation, nest boxes were attached to the backs of information signs along the interstate rights-of-way. Twenty nest boxes were placed on signs along I-35 in Northern Iowa that first year as an Eagle Scout project, and eight were used by kestrels. Nest boxes now occur nearly every mile of I-35 from Missouri to Minnesota. This corridor represents the nation's first statewide kestrel trail along an interstate system. These efforts have been coordinated by the Iowa Department of Natural Resources Nongame Wildlife Program and implemented at the local level by state nongame personnel, county conservation personnel, and a host of volunteers. Hundreds of nest boxes have been attached to highway signs elsewhere in Iowa. Many other states, including Rhode Island, Nebraska, and Idaho, have adopted the kestrel box program.
Information about programs like this can be found here. It says to hang the box from 10-30 feet in height. I prefer personally to stay below 20 ft, and given that the only two things in this desert that are 30 feet tall, saguaros and power poles, I think I'll just put it about ten feet up on a pole near the house.
I found this great plan here.
Friday, December 2, 2005
1 5 different colored houses on a street, with five men of different nationalities living in them. Each man has a different profession. Each man likes a different drink. Each man has a different pet animal.
2 The Englishman lives in the red house.
3 The Spaniard has a dog.
4 The Japanese is a painter.
5 The Italian drinks tea.
6 The Norwegian lives in the first house on the left.
7 The owner of the green house drinks coffee.
8 The green house is on the right of the white house.
9 The sculptor breeds snails.
10 The diplomat lives in the yellow house.
11 They drink milk in the middle house.
12 The Norwegian lives next door to the blue house.
13 The violinist drinks fruit juice.
14 The fox is in the house next to the doctor's.
15 The horse is in the house next to the diplomat's.
The question? Who has the zebra and who drinks water ?
I believe the solution will be the same as the Einstein Riddle (see this).
Since zebra and the water are in the question only and not in the rules -- it is possible that the 5th animal is cranes -- and the fifth beverage is soda - and therefore no one has any fish, nor drinks any water. This doesn't constitute the answer, but determines that the answer is a set of possible solutions that includes no water drinker and no zebra owner, and no water drinker or no zebra owner.
Thursday, December 1, 2005
1. On a street there are five houses, painted five different colors.
2. In each house lives a person of a different nationality.
3. These five homeowners each drink a different kind of beverage, smoke a
different brand of cigar and have a different pet.
The question? Who owns the fish?
1. The Brit lives in a red house.
2. The Swede keeps dogs as pets.
3. The Dane drinks tea.
4. The Green house is on the left of the White house.
5. The owner of the Green house drinks coffee.
6. The person who smokes Pall Mall rears birds.
7. The owner of the Yellow house smokes Dunhill.
8. The man living in the centre house drinks milk.
9. The Norwegian lives in the first house.
10. The man who smokes Blends lives next to the one who keeps cats.
11. The man who keeps horses lives next to the man who smokes Dunhill.
12. The man who smokes Blue Master drinks beer.
13. The German smokes Prince.
14. The Norwegian lives next to the blue house.
15. The man who smokes Blends has a neighbor who drinks water.
Please don't tell me the answer -- OK? Yeah right. The real beauty of this is the simple truth of it. If I tell you that I know who is the owner of the fish and who it is, it doesn't really spoil it for you -- because you won't believe me. First -- it requires verification against a complex set of rules, and second -- knowing that won't even come close to helping find the solution. Finding the solution allows for some assumptions, so there are several different matrices that arrive at the conclusion which -- once discovered will just mean you write in the word fish.
What is a more interesting question to me is how to solve it. Any sort of brute force algorithm seems out of the question. Trail and error combined with intuition and and logic was very fruitful. I expected this to be harder to solve. Stochastic hillclimbing could be an interesting way to solve this. I wonder if I can figure out what that means exactly.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Despite the apparent randomness of the images, author Ryan Gallagher (clickykbd on flickr) clearly proves in these instructions that it is possible to control elements in the image. Go figure -- now it's looking like an art form.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Sunday, November 20, 2005
All of this is going on in the cafe -- as I reel from the strange dreams I had last night. I was the star of some obscure screen chase scene which involved a sophisticated James Bond style hit, complete with special flying rideable objects, and a chance to meet an tremendously asshole version of Tom Cruise, all backed up with a cowboy junkies soundtrack, all of which I wrote in my sleep. It seems to have taken place in a post Rita New Orleans -- with the final scenes taking place in a newly rebuilt floating city -- perhaps on lake Ponchantrain. Our star screams "I'm free," as he falls over backwards into the abyss.
So I am thinking ... as I grab my coffee, that I want to photograph the Cowboy Junkies when they are here in Phoenix -- and that I want to negotiate their album deal with the beautiful people.
"MURDER, TONIGHT, IN THE TRAILER PARK
Murder tonight in the trailer park
Mrs. Annabelle Evans found
with her throat cut after dark
Her pockets turned inside out
her dresser drawers turned upside down
Anna's neighbour, Peg, identifies the body
lets out a hollow kind of sound
Homicide is tying yellow ribbons
around her silver Airstream
Red cherries slashing up the night
cutting through that cordoned crime scene
There's been a murder
in the trailer park tonight
Murder tonight in the trailer park
Pack your things Ann Marie,
we're heading west
we're going to make a fresh start
I've been saving pennies,
been looking forward to this day
No time for questions are you coming
or are you going to stay?"
The Cowboy Junkies.
OK, maybe not then.
There is some evidence that the word ventiTM is indeed a registered trade mark of Starbucks.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
A song about Tuesday morning creaks out of the radio -- "I admit there are times when I miss you, especially right now when I need someone to hold me, ... but there are some things that can never be forgiven." The rabbit and the doves feasting in the predawn light -- just a few feet from me -- I believe the rabbit is in the same pecking order as the doves. They seem to get along pretty well.
I daydream about sleeping till noon. It's hard to sleep till noon in the desert -- the workday is over by then. What I long for I can't describe -- it's not really sleeping till noon -- but rather the lazy morning shared. Alas. there was a girl at the Cafe yesterday -- I didn't actually meet her -- but there was something, a familiarity was there. That thing that promises to deliver emergency late night sex later. Or that lazy morning shared. I think I will make some coffee, and see just what shows up at the feeder.
Friday, November 18, 2005
im·pu·ni·ty ( P ) Pronunciation Key (m-pyn-t)n. pl. im·pu·ni·ties
Exemption from punishment, penalty, or harm.
[Latin impnits, from impne, without punishment : in-, not; see in-1 + poena, penalty (from Greek poin. See kwei-1 in Indo-European Roots).]
from the American Heritage Dictionary -- thanks to http://www.dictionary.com
I have none actually. I want to talk about the people around me today. This morning. I can't actually. I can't mention the woman with tattoos who appears to no longer work here (we could call her "tattoo girl" if we were so inclined). Nor even mention the woman here that I would love to flirt with. I can't mention these people. Other people I work with and know will see this, and there will be consequences. They will know I am talking about them on my blog and I will be punished repeatedly.
The person sitting across from me is Ron Burgundy, Anchorman (you know -- he was also in that movie). I can talk about him, because he's not a real person, he's a Dilbertism. He's a wholly ficticious character (in this context) created by one of my co-workers through the simple act of adding a nameplate to an empty cube. His cube has gotten cleaned up -- his trash gets emptied (more frequently than mine, it seems) -- and an assortment of appropriate desktop items has shown up, including an "easy" button, calculator, glasses, etc. People are starting to ask for him. Apperently he already has some responsibilities.
Yesterday he actually showed up, laptop in hand, and sat down and did some work. We were all pretty surprised.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Sunday, November 6, 2005
by Vladimir Nabokov
Considered by most to be depraved and immoral, you are obsessed with
sex. What really tantalizes you is that which deviates from societal standards in every
way, though you admit that this probably isn't the best and you're not sure what causes
this desire. Nonetheless, you've done some pretty nefarious things in your life, and
probably gotten caught for them. The names have been changed, but the problems are real.
Please stay away from children.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Co-opted from here
Saturday, November 5, 2005
The internet changes the way get the world, and I find that I am more in control. I have always enjoyed Adair Lara, so I set out to find what she has written lately. On an earlier day I would have went out and bought a copy of the chronicle and sat in my favorite local cafe, and leafed through it. Since she is not in it on Saturday, I would have been stuck with Jon Carroll, which would have been ok, but not what I wanted.
In looking up Adair Lara I found out that she is 51 and find myself daydreaming about dating her, since I now know what she looks like, and that she is basically my age, and probably helps to explain why her candid prose has resonated with me. Never mind that though, I am sure she is busy. In my search the most recent article I found was August 10, and it's a story about birdnesters (I never knew), and about a guy who got a restraining order for sneaking into his house to make his kids pancakes on a Saturday morning (I should try that). Birdnesters are folks that both move out and leave the kids in the house when they split. Nice idea.
I miss the pink section too. This leads me to take on Kenneth Baker's latest scribbling, which reminds that art is mostly a reference to other art these days. What could we possibly be as artists if not for Jasper Johns and Franz Kline giving us something to talk about. I'd like to hear Robert Hughes take on that, the thought of which leaves me thinking something like this (to quote Orwell): "You have to be an intellectual to believe such nonsense."
Living here in the desert has it's moments -- and Saturday morning is indeed one of them. The rabbits are nourising themselves on the flowers outside and the quail are eating rocks in their morning spot. Maybe I should make some art that isn't about Georgia O'Keefe. I think I will warm up my coffee first.
Friday, November 4, 2005
You are a Tortured Conceptual Artist. Your fellow
postmodernists call you an anachronism, but
you've never cared much about the opinions of
others. After all, most of them are far too
simple-minded to appreciate the nuances of your
work. They talk, while you are part of a lived
What kind of postmodernist are you!?
brought to you by Quizilla
Stolen from Not Exactly Rocket Science. I did, however, take the quiz to come to this result.
Thursday, November 3, 2005
I thought the surgeon general was probably a fairly bright person, Guess what -- probably not. Ok -- so you can use nicotine to kll bugs -- aphids for example. Make a solution out of water and a few cigarettes -- spray it on your roses - poooffft -- aphids die. Leave this out for your toddlers to drink -- they could die too. Why? Nicotine is a poison.
Let's go back to the Surgeon General. The cigarette package should say -- "This is a poison, do not drink swallow or eat these, or ingest the contents in any way, including smoking. If ingested seek immediate medical attention. Call 911." Anyone in their right mind knows today that smoking kills people, the people who smoke, and some people who don't. So -- what is the Surgeon General thinking?
3 cheese tortellini
6 cloves Garlic
2 hot italian sausage
1 small jalapeno chopped
Cook the crumbled sausage to brown while starting the water for the pasta. Start the sauce in a seperate sauce pan. Crush and chop the Garlic and chop the peppers and onion and add to the sausage after the sausage is brown. When the onions turn translucent turn the whole mess into the sauce. Add about 2 T of grated Parmesan to the sauce and pepper to taste. Add the pasta to the water after it boils and keep it at a rolling boil until it is al dente.
Combine the pasta and the sauce ont the plate and top with parmesan cheese. Enjoy with french bread.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Saturday, October 29, 2005
© 2005, Shawn Kielty. All rights reserved.
PearltheCat is mighty upset right now and a bit bemused at the apparent loss of her sister Bamboo -- and her subsequent grounding (No more late nights out for that girl) -- what is a cat if not free? According to this article the horned owl can and will kill domestic cats. It seems that the site is ambiguous about the benefit and value of the domestic cat to humans, but really clear about the value of the wild birds the domestic cats kill. Despite the appearance of a large amount of credibility -- i.e. "The Raptor Center", the quality of the writing seems to defy that. To wit:
"Economic Importance for Humans
The great horned owl controls harmful rat and mice populations throughout the United States. They kill domestic cats which in turn would have killed wild birds that humans value.
The great horned owl is capable of destroying game birds and animals. Poultry is also a favorite of the owls because they are easily captured. The occasional domestic cat can also fall victim to the great horned owl."
Get out the
He (the cat eating owl) is right in the yard -- every night except tonight. Maybe the rock band next door is interfering with his ability to hunt cats . Maybe the cat he ate the other night is keeping him so full he can share with the vultures and doesn't have to hunt. Perhaps he has died from indigestion.
Pearl the Cat was reading over my shoulder and suggested I post her picture on this man's map. I think that she thought that might make me feel better. I think maybe she is bored because I won't let her go out and play tease the coyotes.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
... my cats are getting nervous. They don't know that they are in danger -- they are just nervous because the normal stuff in their home is leaving. They don't know that they are about to displace a family of coyotes. They don't realize that thier outdoor world is going to include real predators -- like great horned owls, racoons and coyotes. But they are nervous. I fear for them. I know that when they lived in the junkyard in Hayward, CA that they were in danger. Their psycho mother -- the black attack cat bitch -- protected them.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
It is hard to summarize a trip like this, twelve days on a raft, the Colorado River, infinite detail. I have returned. Re-entry is a bit confusing and the various parts of my body hurt. It was good. I saw a condor. Everything is dirty and there is sand in every place possible. There are some 700 images and laundry to do ... There will be more later.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
© Shawn Kielty, 2005, all rights reserved.
Remember, "Super GlueTM is good for cracked skin."
Enter the wilderness. Some things, you gotta do alone. Be healthy, keep your wits, be smart, carry a flashlight and use your sense of smell. Protect yourself at all costs. Pay attention, because the pre-game show is over. As I pack the final items, I worry because this is the first guided tour I have ever taken of the wilderness, I might bring the wrong drinks, or the wrong kind of soap. It's a mediated experience of the wilderness, not my first. But my first like this. I usually go into the wilderness alone or with a disciple. It's easier that way. If I screw up, I suffer the consequences (my poor disciple). I hope I'll know what to look at, when to take a picture. I have the perfect luggage and a purple shirt -- so I think I'll be ok.
As my father always said in every case when things were uncomfortable, "It's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick." Hopefully, the river gods will be benevolent. Maybe, later I'll have a good story to tell.
I'll see you on the other side.
Monday, September 5, 2005
Photo Chris Raye, © 2005, all rights reserved.
Oh man -- yesterday I made my first ascent of Camelback, via Echo Canyon, 1200 ft verticle over 1.2 miles. A young woman passed me on the way up. She smelled sweet like sweat while I was dying behind her, feeling old. Yep, I hiked that mile. I only had to break a few times. She reminded me of what I once lived for. What I once was.
My favorite mile now isn't that one. It's less seductive. Camelback is filled with gorgeous people. Beautiful people. It has fences and handrails, and GucciTM sunglasses, and expansive views -- and is a very serious mile. There is glamour in it. I hear it is the toughest of the seven Phoenix peaks.
The first mile and back of the hike to the wind cave on pass mountain has no glamour; this is my mile or two. What I want is this - a moderate to strenous hike -- on a good trail . I want to go there everyday, before breakfast. Later in my life I can run it.
This hike gets tougher as you go -- 1.6 miles to the wind cave on pass mountain. It is about 10 minutes from my house, and about an hour round trip.