Monday, May 26, 2003
Sandbox
I'd be so damned happy if I could goof off and do something creative here at work without looking even more eccentric. But, while most of the cubicles are only decorated with American flags, I'm the guy with paper airplanes and a little rubber Creature from the Black Lagoon and Origami birds all over his desk. Do you know why Origami paper is folded but never cut? It's a Shinto custom to respect the spirit or "kami" of the tree that gave its life for the paper.
Toothpicks--I have toothpicks! I could build a wee bridge out of them with Elmer's Glue, a bridge for toy soldiers. "Army men" we used to call them, me and Scotty Marshall, as we drew a division line between us in the sandbox and built forts, dug tunnels, and set up command posts for a war we would never get around to fighting. We'd spend the entire summer day sitting in the shade of an oak tree, talking while we scooped out strategic trenches and filled them with our green plastic brigades. When we found an army man who had been chewed by a dog we might use him as a casualty, while an armless soldier (a victim of the lawnmower) might be a grizzled WWII veteran general overseeing the troops from HQ. Like Patton, maybe, but a nicer guy.
By the time the battlefield was ready for battle, the sun was dropping below the trees and it was time to pack it up. We would start over in the morning and maybe get as far as a brief skirmish, but probably not. The real fun was sitting in the shade with our hands in the cool sand as we talked about dinosaurs and movies and whether the Hulk could kick Superman's butt (he could, as far as I was concerned).
It was a good war, a war that was never fought, a war that was pre-empted every evening when one of the Commanders said, "That's my Mom calling me. I guess I have to go home now."
But a sandbox on my desk would not go over well.
I wonder if George Bush or Ariel Sharon have sandboxes on their desks? Each miniature tank might represent $1,000,000 of deployed hardware (with corresponding defense industry contracts and related campaign contributions); each tiny man might symbolize 10,000 lives. Maybe they missed out when they were kids, and they're making up for lost time.
I'm not important enough to have a sandbox on my desk, and I'm grateful for that. Instead I pick up a piece of paper and fold it carefully, never cutting, as I think of a plastic amputee general who never gives the order to fire for fear his troops will end up like him.
~
Yes, there's an obvious grammar error in the 3rd sentence of the 2nd paragraph, and I want it there ; )
5/26/2003 09:16:00 PM
Friday, May 23, 2003
Looks More Like a Flying Brain, Son...
1975: It was a simpler time. Life was simpler. People were simpler. Comic books were, uh, sometimes simpler.
But let's start at the beginning. "Meanwhile, inside the castle..."
...but Evil is never truly defeated...
...and before long the villain is up to his hijinks again...
Enter the Hero:
Don't you love a happy ending?
~
5/23/2003 11:16:00 AM
Wednesday, May 21, 2003
(Spring is here. Don't forget to look up at the sky...)
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5/21/2003 10:46:00 AM
Friday, May 16, 2003
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5/16/2003 12:22:00 PM
Thursday, May 15, 2003
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(Oh, and Wednesday's entry below has been corrected. It just wasn't right before. But maybe it's not right yet... Are the vertical lines a bad thing? The middle line should be the same width as the others... Is there a bit of a stained-glass effect?
Argh! Obsessive? What do you mean, Obsessive?)
5/15/2003 09:51:00 AM
Wednesday, May 14, 2003
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5/14/2003 01:47:00 PM
Saturday, May 10, 2003
More Nature Fractals...
A pattern in nature never exactly repeats itself. Taking a natural pattern and repeating it naturally produces interesting results...
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5/10/2003 10:06:00 PM
Thursday, May 08, 2003
Nature Fractals?
...that I piece together from poor-quality, blurry photos of a creek bank, these are becoming my new obsession:
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5/08/2003 09:59:00 PM
