one quick shot
The signs posted at the border when you drive into British Columbia dub this province "The Best Place on Earth." It's the cockiest slogan anywhere outside of South Dakota calling itself "The Sunshine State." But on certain days, when a couple of bridges, a winding mountain pass and a few ski lifts are all that separate the heart of Vancouver from this ridiculous view, the boast seems modest, for it does confine its scope to a single planet.
If only we could abandon the conceit that teaching Biblical estimations on the origins of everything belongs anywhere near a science classroom. Kids might as well watch "Star Wars" in our international studies class, or read "The Joy of Cooking" in archaeology.
Quoth the inestimable Wikipedia's entry on "Science," and by extension its myriad editors since it began in October of 2001: "Science (from the Latin scientia, meaning 'knowledge') is an enterprise that builds and organizes knowledge in the form of testable explanations and predictions about the world."
Evidence grounded in faith is untestable. It is not scientific. But gather 'round, and we'll discuss the rules of badminton to prep for our trigonometry midterm.
Excellent all-purpose advice from a robot shop in Chicago.
Funny, the things you find in the woods.
Yep, this is full-blown. Not for much longer. It is absolutely the sweetest time of year in central Arkansas until these leaves dun over and fill the gutters. Then: nastiness 'til March.
And for no other reason than that the Internet is fueled by nipples and adorable animals ... here's a photo of the latter.
Some photos may not be the most amazing the world has ever seen. But you shoot 'em, and they sit around, and then you notice them again and think, Well, that sure was a fine day, wasn't it?
The new camera here. It's a sexy beast. Pictures again are being taken. All's well.
Until I get around to processing the new shots, however, I'm just going to post this picture of my paternal grandmother, Lucille, that I snapped Gino's East in Chicago back in May. Something about my 79-year-old teetotaling Nana getting comfy at a neon-lit, graffiti-soaked bar (WE'RE GOOD TO GO!) tickles me.
Fun glitch-filled few minutes on motherjones.com this afternoon. Here's a screen grab of part of the homepage:
Oh, also, lest you think the Third World isn't actually on this planet, here's what was playing on the dueling flatscreens over a hotel bar last night: