I’ve been doing a lot of reading these last few weeks or so. I came across something by Ayn Rand in some compilation book about comparing yourself to others in your career. She said it is not necessary to compare yourself to others, just do the best you can do. That was not the most eloquent way of paraphrasing, but you get the point. She used the career of a writer as an example. She said a writer should not choose to be a writer because he is the best writer in the world. A writer should choose to be a writer because he has something to say.
Queue epiphany sounding music.
Look at the cartoonish light bulb above my head.
By the way I chose to omit “he or she,” because I’m purposefully avoiding the androgynous form everyone uses nowadays. It’s just this idea I have, but I digress.
I’ve started writing some short stories, well I guess a single short story would be more accurate. I think the reason I never tried to publish anything was because I always thought I had to be the best god damned writer in the whole fucking world. The problem is I want to live a life with the least amount of regrets as possible. I find that I’m more prone to regret the things didn’t rather than the things I did do.
I used to read Henry Miller in high school and I had to look up a lot of the words he wrote. People always tell me I have this stellar vocabulary. Again, “stellar,” used by choice. Most of the words that people get so impressed by are words I learned from Henry Miller. I mispronounced a lot of them. For years I totally said voluminous and polysyllabic incorrectly. Now you can get the MP3 pronunciation on the internet—That’s so much better than Webster’s dictionary. There’s still shit in that book I don’t understand because some of it was written in French. I understood common terms like cul-de-sac, or c'est la vie, but I didn’t get things like “comme d’habitude.”
Having an extensive vocabulary is not as difficult as it seems. All you have to do is read books by authors that have great vocabularies. In high school I had to keep a dictionary besides me, but now we have the internet. Now, with the internet, the answers are at my fingertips. You can highlight a word on you kindle or kindle app and the definition automatically pops up. What could be easier?
Henry Miller wrote Tropic of Cancer in France. It was published in 1934. It would never have been published in the United States of America at that time.
It was deemed obscene until the supreme court deemed in not obscene in Miller Vs. California (1973). Rappers can say Mother Fucker because Miller dared to write “international cunt.” I can’t say international cunt. I’ve only used it in a sentence maybe one time before this. IT just doesn’t flow right for me. I can’t think of a possible practical application of this phrase in contemporary America. I can’t use the word quim. No one knows what that is anymore because no one uses the word quim. They say Va-J J. Everything is vanilla, people are too afraid to say what they are really thinking.
I don’t have to emulate James Joyce. I don’t even like James Joyce. I can just have something to say. Having something to say doesn’t mean you have to use words like somnambulist. I don’t have to write like Henry Miller. In fact, reading it again, I wouldn’t want to. Anti-Semitism is not cool.
I haven’t written a short story in years. I’ve been looking at it all wrong. I don’t have to have the biggest vocabulary or be the best writer. I just need to write well with my own purpose. I don’t need to find my own voice—I already have that. I just need to say what I have to say.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Friday, May 4, 2012
Incomplete sentences
It’s been a while since I’ve written anything for this blog. On one hand I feel like If I write something I should try to publish it as well. If I put something on my blog, I squelch any chance of getting it published. On the other hand, sometimes I just want to experiment with my voice. Something like this has absolutely no commercial interest, at least without a theme.
I can’t sit idle. It’s difficult for me. I have to be doing something. Learning, writing, fidgeting. Sometimes I listen to music, sometimes I listen to podcasts. I keep my mind active otherwise I start going stir crazy and start fidgeting. Keeping busy. That’s an incomplete sentence.
It’s good to interject those every now and then just for emphasis.
I’m at a point in my life where I feel like I’m not doing enough, but I’m wrong. It’s just about everything I can. I have four books and this week I decided to learn Spanish. This is partly because I’ve been applying for several jobs and a lot of places ask how many languages you speak so I figure this would look better on a resume. The other thing is I feel like I want to accomplish something. Learning a language is a lot like running a marathon. It talks time, effort, and most of all dedication.
I haven’t decided how I’m going to do it yet. I don’t necessarily want to take a class. I want to learn it on my own. I found a Spanish pod cast and I have the total emersion software from Costco, it’s just misplaced at the moment. I also want to try the method my grandmother suggested when I was a kid and watch Novellas. I there a Telemundo version of Hulu?
I took Spanish in High school, but I didn’t take it too seriously. I learned how to conjugate a lot of verbs a few nouns, but never really was able to put it all together. The problem was it was all book work and I never ventured out to use any of it. I never attempted to have a conversation en Español. I used to get pissed if someone started to speak to me in Spanish. It annoyed me a little bit. I thought it was a ridiculous proposition to just start speaking to someone in the United States in Spanish. Not to be stereotypical (actually I am going to be stereotypical) but I don’t look like someone that would know how to speak Spanish. I mean, I understand if someone asks ¿Hablo Espanol? I don’t understand just speaking Spanish a million miles an hour as if you assume everyone in the free world speaks your native tongue. You never see a guy from China go up to someone that looks like Owen Wilson and start speaking Mandarin.
I decided to get off my high horse though. I subscribed to the Spanish101 podcast. I’ve listened to three of them now. It surprising how after years of being dormant the stuff I learned in Spanish class is slowly being resurrected. I have no idea if I’m spelling any of this correctly, this is the draw back of learning from a podcast. Comos Estas? Estoy Bein. De Colores et cetera, but I learned new stuff too like lentamente (slower) and Entonces(so and then so) which is a concept I still quite understand. I also don’t understand why someone would say more or less when asked “how are you?” More or less what?
An incomplete sentence?
Things are going pretty good with Kim too, she’s my only subscriber, which is fine. I mostly do these things for myself but it’s nice that she subscribed. She motivates me and I don’t even think she realizes it. She’s just being herself. It’s nice.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
I like You Too.
You wouldn’t know it by looking at me today, but I used to be shy. In middle school, I couldn’t even talk to girls. In high school, I got a little bit better, but was still deathly afraid of rejection. I had a warped sense of romance. I used to read Shakespeare, I loved his sonnets. Required reading for sure, but I thought they were the epitome of romance. My favorite was sonnet 130. To be honest I didn’t remember the number, but through the magic of Google, I just typed in “Shakespeare sonnet breath” and that’s all it took to bring it up. The internet is amazing. This was my paradigm. I thought this was the truest expression of romance.
So instead of asking girls out to a movie or for ice cream, I just kind of stared googly eyed at some unrequited object of my desire, (extremely sexist, I know) Instead of going to dances I spent my time laboriously writing sonnets of my own. A few times I even mustered up enough courage to give them to some girls.
I wouldn’t recommend this.
The empirical evidence suggests that your chances of obtaining a date this way are extremely dismal.
A sonnet is a fourteen line poem written in iambic pentameter. In case you don’t remember, iambic pentameter is a combination of ten unstressed and stressed syllables. It gives the poem a song like rhythm, you know . . .if you actually can read it out loud with self-confidence.
Needles to say, I am not longer a fan of poetry. I fucking despise poetry. I’m strictly prose. I just buy cards like everyone else. I’m not really a fan of them either.
A couple of weeks ago someone pretty special, her name is Kim, gave me a little book entitled I Like You, by Sandol Stoiddard Warburg and illustrated by Jacqueline Chwast.
I can not pronounce either of their names.
It was cute, really cute. I could probably plagiarize the whole thing and it would take up a page, but it was nice and sweet. One of the lines is:
“I like you because
When I tell you something special
You know it’s special
And you remember it
A long long time.”
It’s poetry and I like it. I like it because I like the person that gave it to me. It was much more thoughtful than a card, but what really floored me was the fact that she wrote something underneath the book cover. I unwrapped it like a gift. I’m not going re-write it, because it was special, just for me.
I’m 34, and this is the first time anyone’s ever written anything like this for me. I just felt the need to share that. Sure I’ve received cards, but those are things written by other people. This book was written by someone else, but the little inscription on the inside cover—that was her. That was different. That, among other things, is why I’m in love.
So instead of asking girls out to a movie or for ice cream, I just kind of stared googly eyed at some unrequited object of my desire, (extremely sexist, I know) Instead of going to dances I spent my time laboriously writing sonnets of my own. A few times I even mustered up enough courage to give them to some girls.
I wouldn’t recommend this.
The empirical evidence suggests that your chances of obtaining a date this way are extremely dismal.
A sonnet is a fourteen line poem written in iambic pentameter. In case you don’t remember, iambic pentameter is a combination of ten unstressed and stressed syllables. It gives the poem a song like rhythm, you know . . .if you actually can read it out loud with self-confidence.
Needles to say, I am not longer a fan of poetry. I fucking despise poetry. I’m strictly prose. I just buy cards like everyone else. I’m not really a fan of them either.
A couple of weeks ago someone pretty special, her name is Kim, gave me a little book entitled I Like You, by Sandol Stoiddard Warburg and illustrated by Jacqueline Chwast.
I can not pronounce either of their names.
It was cute, really cute. I could probably plagiarize the whole thing and it would take up a page, but it was nice and sweet. One of the lines is:
“I like you because
When I tell you something special
You know it’s special
And you remember it
A long long time.”
It’s poetry and I like it. I like it because I like the person that gave it to me. It was much more thoughtful than a card, but what really floored me was the fact that she wrote something underneath the book cover. I unwrapped it like a gift. I’m not going re-write it, because it was special, just for me.
I’m 34, and this is the first time anyone’s ever written anything like this for me. I just felt the need to share that. Sure I’ve received cards, but those are things written by other people. This book was written by someone else, but the little inscription on the inside cover—that was her. That was different. That, among other things, is why I’m in love.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Save Bucks
I, like most people is a nation, am addicted to caffeine. Our paper money should have a slogan like in coffee we trust. We love to suck down Red Bull, Monster, and Rock Star In mass quantities. I try to be frugal, but energy drinks are one of the leaks in my financial ideals. For some reason I’m really careful about looking at the unit price on most things at the grocery store, but when it comes to liquid energy or courage—I never seem to care that much about getting the best deal. I will if what I’m looking for happens to be on sale and if it is I’ll buy more, but if it’s not, it never discourages me—I’ll pay the little extra happiness tax. I’m frugal, not a miser.
I once read a book on investing that contained great ideas on saving money. The book was by Andrew Tobias, The Only Guide To Investing That You’ll Ever Need. It was a great book. Not only did it talk about P/E ratio’s, indexes, options, mutual funds and EFT’s but It had great money saving tips. One tip was buy commodities, but not the type of commodities you see in the financial section of the Wall Street Journal. He didn’t recommend that his reader’s buy corn or pork futures. He meant stock up on things like mouthwash. When you buy stuff in bulk it usually comes at a discounted price per unit. So if you bought a case of Cepacol that would last you a couple years or so, in the long run it would be cheaper than buying a 750 ml bottle every month.
This is how I purchase beer and energy drinks, albeit I’m cutting down on both. I do this with a anything I can really. The hard part is storing it. Tobias suggests underneath your kitchen table or under your bed. I keep after shave, razor’s, and body wash stored in some odd places, but I don’t care. With Register Rewards and coupons I picked up jour bottles of after shave for $1.80. I don’t clip coupons, but some of my coworkers do. They know all the tricks for register rewards and look at sites like crazycouponlady.com. I don’t have time for that, but Pro Glide razors can be purchased for pennies on the dollar.
I generally buy soy milk , not because I give a damn about animal rights, but because it spoils much more slowly. In the long run it saves me money. Almond milk is even better because you can buy boxes of it at Costco for really cheap and it doesn’t have to be refrigerated until after you open it. A twelve ounce box of Honey Nut Cheerios comes with a price tag of $3.50 at the grocery store, but 2.1 lbs. is $6.39 at Costco. A dozen Durex condom’s is $15.99 at your local drugstore. At Costco you can pick a Durex pleasure pack for $9.99 and it contains 4 times as many condoms. If you don’t have a use for condoms you can Google internet magazine subscriptions and pick up a two year subscription of Playboy for less than ten bucks.
I haven’t looked into buying lotion in bulk.
I really do enjoy the articles.
There are a myriad of things you can do to save money, but this is one of my favorites, probably because I figured it out on my own. I’m going to let you in on a little secret, well a couple. When I was in high school, I had a really good economics teacher. If you’ve known me for any length of time you’ve probably heard me talk about him. He got me really excited about Individual Retirement Accounts. I was intrigued with the idea of compounding interest. If you start young enough, like at 21 or so and just set aside $50.00 a week you can retire a millionaire by the time you reach 65. You can even stop at 27. There are a lot of naysayers these days. Everyone’s so anti Wall Street, the sky is falling—but don’t pay attention to them because you’ll be sorry. In the Automatic millionaire, the author suggests that you give up that cup of Starbucks every day to find the money to invest in your IRA or 401K. This is also a great idea, but I found a better one.
The economist, Milton Friedman once said there is no such thing as a free lunch. I’m a big fan of Friedman’s ideas, but I can assure you there is a such thing as a free cup of coffee.
Starbucks has exploitable policy. If you order a caramel frap-a lotta calories they make it on the spot. They steam the milk and brew the espresso to order. If you try to watch calories like me, however the five calories in a regular cup o’ joe is a lot more appetizing. It’s also cheaper. I think it’s less than two bucks for a tall coffee. Here’s my tip. If you go in the morning—they will offer a couple different brews,
one bold, perhaps a French Roast and one mild roast, most likely Pike Place. Demand goes down throughout the day since most people like to drink coffee in the morning. I like to brew my own coffee in the morning, but I found that when I go into Starbuck’s in the afternoon they tend to run out of drip coffee. They also have a policy if they are out of what you ask for—it’s on the house. More often than not, when I ask for a cup of coffee at 3:00 p.m., I don’t have to pay for it.
I once read a book on investing that contained great ideas on saving money. The book was by Andrew Tobias, The Only Guide To Investing That You’ll Ever Need. It was a great book. Not only did it talk about P/E ratio’s, indexes, options, mutual funds and EFT’s but It had great money saving tips. One tip was buy commodities, but not the type of commodities you see in the financial section of the Wall Street Journal. He didn’t recommend that his reader’s buy corn or pork futures. He meant stock up on things like mouthwash. When you buy stuff in bulk it usually comes at a discounted price per unit. So if you bought a case of Cepacol that would last you a couple years or so, in the long run it would be cheaper than buying a 750 ml bottle every month.
This is how I purchase beer and energy drinks, albeit I’m cutting down on both. I do this with a anything I can really. The hard part is storing it. Tobias suggests underneath your kitchen table or under your bed. I keep after shave, razor’s, and body wash stored in some odd places, but I don’t care. With Register Rewards and coupons I picked up jour bottles of after shave for $1.80. I don’t clip coupons, but some of my coworkers do. They know all the tricks for register rewards and look at sites like crazycouponlady.com. I don’t have time for that, but Pro Glide razors can be purchased for pennies on the dollar.
I generally buy soy milk , not because I give a damn about animal rights, but because it spoils much more slowly. In the long run it saves me money. Almond milk is even better because you can buy boxes of it at Costco for really cheap and it doesn’t have to be refrigerated until after you open it. A twelve ounce box of Honey Nut Cheerios comes with a price tag of $3.50 at the grocery store, but 2.1 lbs. is $6.39 at Costco. A dozen Durex condom’s is $15.99 at your local drugstore. At Costco you can pick a Durex pleasure pack for $9.99 and it contains 4 times as many condoms. If you don’t have a use for condoms you can Google internet magazine subscriptions and pick up a two year subscription of Playboy for less than ten bucks.
I haven’t looked into buying lotion in bulk.
I really do enjoy the articles.
There are a myriad of things you can do to save money, but this is one of my favorites, probably because I figured it out on my own. I’m going to let you in on a little secret, well a couple. When I was in high school, I had a really good economics teacher. If you’ve known me for any length of time you’ve probably heard me talk about him. He got me really excited about Individual Retirement Accounts. I was intrigued with the idea of compounding interest. If you start young enough, like at 21 or so and just set aside $50.00 a week you can retire a millionaire by the time you reach 65. You can even stop at 27. There are a lot of naysayers these days. Everyone’s so anti Wall Street, the sky is falling—but don’t pay attention to them because you’ll be sorry. In the Automatic millionaire, the author suggests that you give up that cup of Starbucks every day to find the money to invest in your IRA or 401K. This is also a great idea, but I found a better one.
The economist, Milton Friedman once said there is no such thing as a free lunch. I’m a big fan of Friedman’s ideas, but I can assure you there is a such thing as a free cup of coffee.
Starbucks has exploitable policy. If you order a caramel frap-a lotta calories they make it on the spot. They steam the milk and brew the espresso to order. If you try to watch calories like me, however the five calories in a regular cup o’ joe is a lot more appetizing. It’s also cheaper. I think it’s less than two bucks for a tall coffee. Here’s my tip. If you go in the morning—they will offer a couple different brews,
one bold, perhaps a French Roast and one mild roast, most likely Pike Place. Demand goes down throughout the day since most people like to drink coffee in the morning. I like to brew my own coffee in the morning, but I found that when I go into Starbuck’s in the afternoon they tend to run out of drip coffee. They also have a policy if they are out of what you ask for—it’s on the house. More often than not, when I ask for a cup of coffee at 3:00 p.m., I don’t have to pay for it.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
The Bubbly Stuff
The late Christopher Hitchens’s once said, “The four most over-rated things in life are champagne, lobster, anal sex and picnics.”
I have never liked champagne, but it is compulsory to drink it on special occasions like weddings or New Year’s Eve. It’s so engrained into the fabric of our society that we even give sparkling apple cider to children and people that abstain from partaking in the pleasures of alcohol. For some reason bubbles are linked to fun like Pavlov’s bell was linked to food for dogs.
This year I will not be drinking any champagne because I have to work, but I thought it would be fun to write something on the process of making it. Most people never think of these things and since a lot of people have been telling me that I have a lot of useless information I thought it would be fun to share some interesting factoids about what you’ll probably be drinking during the first few seconds of 2012.
Most people are aware that there is a difference between sparkling wine and champagne. Because governments like to make useless laws, for an adult beverage to be called “champagne” it must come from a certain region in France, the Champagne region. This is the conventional wisdom. If you’re like me, and you like to exploit conventional wisdom and impress some of your friends at the same time—you can bet (perhaps your next drink) that there is “champagne” that does not come from France. You have to be subtle, and bets like this tend to work better on drunken people, but you will surely win.
All you have to do is say Korbel. It’s made in Guerneville, California near the Russian river. I’ve been there twice and even though I don’t like champagne, I found it interesting to learn about. According to Wikipedia, Korbel relies on a semi-generic provision under U.S. Law to call its sparkling wines California Champagne, but on the tour they give another reason. The treaty of Madrid was written in 1891 and this contains the provision reserving the term “champagne” for sparkling wine produced in this special region of France. Korbel was founded in 1882. Therefore, they used the term “champagne” before the law was created. In essence—they were grandfathered in like when you get unlimited internet on your cell phone even though it’s now limited to 2GB for new customers.
I should edit the Wiki, but I’m too lazy.
Creating champagne is a process. The first step is the same as any other winery. Grapes juice is mixed with yeast and barreled until it ferments into wine. Most people are familiar with this process. IF you’ve never been to a winery, you’ve at least probably seen the episode of I Love Lucy where she steps on the grapes.. . so you probably have at least a rudimentary idea of how the process works. After the wine is produced, and this is the part I find fascinating, it’s bottled. The difference between champagne and Two-Buck Chuck is the second fermentation process. A second batch of yeast and sugar is added to the bottle. The wine is fermented again. This creates the bubbles and the distinct taste that differs from wine. It also makes it stronger. The level of sweetness is dependent on how much sugar is added to the second fermentation process. This is called the dosage, pronounced Doe-ssage (like massage) The dryer the champagne the less the dosage is added and vice-versa.
Adding yeast to a bottle presents an interesting problem. At some point you have to get it out. Traditionally this is done by storing the bottles and a 45 degree angle with the cork facing downward. Hundreds of them were placed on a rack just like this. Then the bottles were moved by a man that had to wear a face mask in case one of the bottles exploded and shot the cork off, which was fairly common. Each bottle had to be shifted twice a day so the yeast would settle to the top of the bottle. It is done with hydraulics now, but it’s more fun to think of someone actually doing it by hand.
The last step in the process is to freeze it and then take off the cork. Once frozen the yeast pushes out of the bottles. Consequently, so does some of the liquid. Another problem for the champagne makers is each bottle contained a different amount of liquid. The solution was to add foil to the top. This concealed the discrepancies in volume between different bottles. Technology has now eliminated the need for this concealment, but the foil still remains. It is now part of the allure; it gives it that certain specialness. Foil became a mark of luxury. This is why Imperial margarine is wrapped in foil, the makers of Imperial margarine tried to capture that same allure. (Don’t eat that crap by the way. It’s full of trans-fat.) Trans-fat is more dangerous than terrorism.
So this year, when you drink that bubble stuff, you can tell your friends how it’s made. Raise your glass, think of how I’ll be working and have a Happy New Year.
I have never liked champagne, but it is compulsory to drink it on special occasions like weddings or New Year’s Eve. It’s so engrained into the fabric of our society that we even give sparkling apple cider to children and people that abstain from partaking in the pleasures of alcohol. For some reason bubbles are linked to fun like Pavlov’s bell was linked to food for dogs.
This year I will not be drinking any champagne because I have to work, but I thought it would be fun to write something on the process of making it. Most people never think of these things and since a lot of people have been telling me that I have a lot of useless information I thought it would be fun to share some interesting factoids about what you’ll probably be drinking during the first few seconds of 2012.
Most people are aware that there is a difference between sparkling wine and champagne. Because governments like to make useless laws, for an adult beverage to be called “champagne” it must come from a certain region in France, the Champagne region. This is the conventional wisdom. If you’re like me, and you like to exploit conventional wisdom and impress some of your friends at the same time—you can bet (perhaps your next drink) that there is “champagne” that does not come from France. You have to be subtle, and bets like this tend to work better on drunken people, but you will surely win.
All you have to do is say Korbel. It’s made in Guerneville, California near the Russian river. I’ve been there twice and even though I don’t like champagne, I found it interesting to learn about. According to Wikipedia, Korbel relies on a semi-generic provision under U.S. Law to call its sparkling wines California Champagne, but on the tour they give another reason. The treaty of Madrid was written in 1891 and this contains the provision reserving the term “champagne” for sparkling wine produced in this special region of France. Korbel was founded in 1882. Therefore, they used the term “champagne” before the law was created. In essence—they were grandfathered in like when you get unlimited internet on your cell phone even though it’s now limited to 2GB for new customers.
I should edit the Wiki, but I’m too lazy.
Creating champagne is a process. The first step is the same as any other winery. Grapes juice is mixed with yeast and barreled until it ferments into wine. Most people are familiar with this process. IF you’ve never been to a winery, you’ve at least probably seen the episode of I Love Lucy where she steps on the grapes.. . so you probably have at least a rudimentary idea of how the process works. After the wine is produced, and this is the part I find fascinating, it’s bottled. The difference between champagne and Two-Buck Chuck is the second fermentation process. A second batch of yeast and sugar is added to the bottle. The wine is fermented again. This creates the bubbles and the distinct taste that differs from wine. It also makes it stronger. The level of sweetness is dependent on how much sugar is added to the second fermentation process. This is called the dosage, pronounced Doe-ssage (like massage) The dryer the champagne the less the dosage is added and vice-versa.
Adding yeast to a bottle presents an interesting problem. At some point you have to get it out. Traditionally this is done by storing the bottles and a 45 degree angle with the cork facing downward. Hundreds of them were placed on a rack just like this. Then the bottles were moved by a man that had to wear a face mask in case one of the bottles exploded and shot the cork off, which was fairly common. Each bottle had to be shifted twice a day so the yeast would settle to the top of the bottle. It is done with hydraulics now, but it’s more fun to think of someone actually doing it by hand.
The last step in the process is to freeze it and then take off the cork. Once frozen the yeast pushes out of the bottles. Consequently, so does some of the liquid. Another problem for the champagne makers is each bottle contained a different amount of liquid. The solution was to add foil to the top. This concealed the discrepancies in volume between different bottles. Technology has now eliminated the need for this concealment, but the foil still remains. It is now part of the allure; it gives it that certain specialness. Foil became a mark of luxury. This is why Imperial margarine is wrapped in foil, the makers of Imperial margarine tried to capture that same allure. (Don’t eat that crap by the way. It’s full of trans-fat.) Trans-fat is more dangerous than terrorism.
So this year, when you drink that bubble stuff, you can tell your friends how it’s made. Raise your glass, think of how I’ll be working and have a Happy New Year.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Gambling Is Not a Crime
I’ve been starting to play HU NL on cake because the games are quick and I figure it will be the fastest way to build a roll, at least that’s what I once read on two plus two. The problem is the games are sparse. Limit Head’s up games are even more rare. Come to think of it there’s nothing really that popular on Cake except for the No limit Cash games. I watched a few videos on it before and I figure I can just play 30 buy-ins. It’s helping with my bet sizing and reading abilities. What does someone do when they have one of the monsters they get about 4% of the time? They tend to raise more, especially the min raisers.
Yesterday someone called a raise with 92o and I filled up. I couldn’t imagine hardly any deuces in his range that didn’t contain an ace so I stacked off. I was wrong. Why did he play 9-2? My first inclination is to think. . . yeah big mistake, but that’s not really the case. The reason to play 9-2 when my stack is on the shorter side is because I would stack off if he hits a monster(he had quads) He didn’t need a hand that strong, but it’s very deceptive. In fact I should probably add a couple of those bottom 10% hands in my range just for balance. 92o and 83o seem perfect.
I don’t really like Cake, but I don’t have much choice. I'm dead money right now and I'm okay with that. I play ultra micro levels to try to learn the game, figure out my SPR, and learn the ABC's of No Limit before I venture out into higher stakes.
Today Card Runners posted a thread on 2+2 that suggested the DOJ thinks the WIRE act only applies to sports betting. That seems strange to me. If they thought that then why did they seize the domains of Poker Stars and Full Tilt? I can see Tilt, but it appears the Department of Justice did not know about the so called Ponzi scheme until well after they seized the assets.
The proper roll of government is to protect its citizens from others, not to protect citizens from themselves. When laws are passed to protect people from themselves, freedom is lost. It bothers me to see how often people make the wrong arguments. Poker is not gambling, it is a game of skill. This moot point, is a red herring. Let’s assume, for the sake of argument, it is gambling. It certainly can be, and for the losers it is. What is wrong with gambling? Is it inherently immoral? Gambling is not a form of stealing. All bets are essentially an agreement just like any other verbal agreement or contract. When you “put your money where your mouth is,” what you are really doing is placing a value on your knowledge. If you wager $100 on a football game you are betting that your knowledge of the players, injuries and assessment of the skill of the players et cetera is better than your opponent’s knowledge of his or her chosen team. If you sit down at a poker table you are banking on the fact that your knowledge of the game is greater than at least one of the other players.
Of course you could be wrong. You could even bet a hand of blackjack thinking that your “luck” is good. Your knowledge is flawed, but people make these bets everyday. They don’t realize the casino knows that as long as you bust before the dealer you pay them, but if the dealer busts in the same round the casino doesn’t pay you.
In gambling, knowledge is power. This is not the same as stealing. If you buy a car at one dealership, but don’t know it is $5,000 cheaper at a dealer across town—you lose $5000 to your ignorance. What’s the difference if you lose a gambling game because of your ignorance? Shouldn’t you be free to choose to do so?
Should it be a crime to waste your money?
Nearly all gaming is games of skill. Usually the casino, or in the case of lotteries, the state is in possession of that skill.
Why does it matter if someone bets $5.00 on the Laker game over the phone? What’s wrong with that? What if it’s $500.00 $1,000, or even one million? Why is it anyone’s business? Why should someone not have the right to do as they please with their own money? The question should not be is poker legal according to the WIRE ACT of 1961. The question should be why does the government need to impose the WIRE ACT of 1961 on it’s citizens?
Yesterday someone called a raise with 92o and I filled up. I couldn’t imagine hardly any deuces in his range that didn’t contain an ace so I stacked off. I was wrong. Why did he play 9-2? My first inclination is to think. . . yeah big mistake, but that’s not really the case. The reason to play 9-2 when my stack is on the shorter side is because I would stack off if he hits a monster(he had quads) He didn’t need a hand that strong, but it’s very deceptive. In fact I should probably add a couple of those bottom 10% hands in my range just for balance. 92o and 83o seem perfect.
I don’t really like Cake, but I don’t have much choice. I'm dead money right now and I'm okay with that. I play ultra micro levels to try to learn the game, figure out my SPR, and learn the ABC's of No Limit before I venture out into higher stakes.
Today Card Runners posted a thread on 2+2 that suggested the DOJ thinks the WIRE act only applies to sports betting. That seems strange to me. If they thought that then why did they seize the domains of Poker Stars and Full Tilt? I can see Tilt, but it appears the Department of Justice did not know about the so called Ponzi scheme until well after they seized the assets.
The proper roll of government is to protect its citizens from others, not to protect citizens from themselves. When laws are passed to protect people from themselves, freedom is lost. It bothers me to see how often people make the wrong arguments. Poker is not gambling, it is a game of skill. This moot point, is a red herring. Let’s assume, for the sake of argument, it is gambling. It certainly can be, and for the losers it is. What is wrong with gambling? Is it inherently immoral? Gambling is not a form of stealing. All bets are essentially an agreement just like any other verbal agreement or contract. When you “put your money where your mouth is,” what you are really doing is placing a value on your knowledge. If you wager $100 on a football game you are betting that your knowledge of the players, injuries and assessment of the skill of the players et cetera is better than your opponent’s knowledge of his or her chosen team. If you sit down at a poker table you are banking on the fact that your knowledge of the game is greater than at least one of the other players.
Of course you could be wrong. You could even bet a hand of blackjack thinking that your “luck” is good. Your knowledge is flawed, but people make these bets everyday. They don’t realize the casino knows that as long as you bust before the dealer you pay them, but if the dealer busts in the same round the casino doesn’t pay you.
In gambling, knowledge is power. This is not the same as stealing. If you buy a car at one dealership, but don’t know it is $5,000 cheaper at a dealer across town—you lose $5000 to your ignorance. What’s the difference if you lose a gambling game because of your ignorance? Shouldn’t you be free to choose to do so?
Should it be a crime to waste your money?
Nearly all gaming is games of skill. Usually the casino, or in the case of lotteries, the state is in possession of that skill.
Why does it matter if someone bets $5.00 on the Laker game over the phone? What’s wrong with that? What if it’s $500.00 $1,000, or even one million? Why is it anyone’s business? Why should someone not have the right to do as they please with their own money? The question should not be is poker legal according to the WIRE ACT of 1961. The question should be why does the government need to impose the WIRE ACT of 1961 on it’s citizens?
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Vegimite
On the gold coast of Australia, there is a casino named Jupiter’s. The cocktails are not “free.” I say free n quotation marks because Vegas cocktails have are paid for with a hidden cost. Degeneracy is a lot more expensive than any fair price. The air is fresh at Jupiter’s. Smoking is one of the seven deadly sins in Australia. Marlboro Red’s don’t have a surgeon general’s warning. Instead the country has opted for graphic pictures of charred lungs. Smoking causes gangrene, I never even knew what gangrene was until I saw a picture of it on a pack of smokes. Gangrene makes your foot look like you were walking on hot coals for three hours and then decided to stand on a blistering hot spot for a smoke break. Mouth cancer looks like the Angelina Jolie’s lips kissed a hot iron and her teeth and gums were burnt to a crisp I the process.
They have a vending machine similar to the one at jury duty. It dispenses free coffee and soda. You just need a rewards card. I think I received two free refreshing diet cokes. I probably could have earned more if I would put a penny in one of the pokies, except they don’t have pennies in Australia and I don’t play slots. The poker room is downstairs. They didn’t have Limit Hold Hold Em and spread only two tables of No Limit. I chose not to play because I suck at No Limit cash. I just went to look around, check out the ambiance and the atmosphere. The atmosphere was reminiscent of a Motel Six lobby, Australian food sucks. The only thing worth eating down under is meat pie and schnitzel. Beef isn’t corn fed, so it has that grassy gamey taste to it. I It’s the kind of beef you get a t a health food store that has all the omega 3’s 6’s9’s or whatever. Less fat equals less taste. So I had the lamb shank. It was decent but the mashed potatoes were instant and the carrots were overcooked. Our waiter had an American accent. His name was Michael. He insisted that we (there is no more we, but there was) try Vegimite. Vegimite is made from Yeast. XXXX, pronounced four X, is a brewery in Queensland. They brew yellow-pissey beer similar to Anheuser-Busch. The process includes disposing of the yeast. Some genius figured out that they can sell this used yeast to a company that would make something out of it. I say something because it can only describe it as a cross between margarine and axle grease. I don’t understand how it’s fit for human consumption.
For some reason, I have an uncanny knack for remembering names. My father still calls my Uncle Avery, Adrian. He’s been doing since I was young enough to still call him Dad, which means two things. One—It’s not genetic and two—I’m getting old. Michel lacks certain social skills. He had this look on his face that screamed my hand is in the cookie jar and I don’t want to get caught. His voice was timid, and he avoided making eye contact. Quaint, shyness often gets mistaken for creepiness. He wasn’t creepy, but creepy was close. Michael was from the United States. He loved to surf. He said the one of biggest surfing competitions is held at Coolangatta, a beach town like Huntington or Laguna Beach. Before relocating to Australia he lived with his mother in Florida. Before that, he lived with his father in Loma Linda. The best man at his father’s second marriage works at the Lincoln Memorial Shrine in Redlands.
In other words, it’s a small fucking word after all.
I went to the A.K. Smiley Library today and I know the Lincoln Memorial Shrine is somewhere around there, but I’m not exactly sure where. My extraordinary name remembering skills are humbled by my lack of sense of direction. I want to go in there and say hey I met this guy that knows you in Australia, but I don’t know who to look for. I remember Michael’s name, but I don’t remember his father’s best man’s name. I have to meet someone to remember their name. I almost don’t want to go because It’s been a mystery for a couple years now. There’s this guy I heard about in another country that works a couple miles away from me. Part of me wants to keep the mystery, but part of me wants to check out the Lincoln Memorial Shrine. I don’t know. It can’t be half as good as Great Moment with Lincoln at Disneyland right?
They have a vending machine similar to the one at jury duty. It dispenses free coffee and soda. You just need a rewards card. I think I received two free refreshing diet cokes. I probably could have earned more if I would put a penny in one of the pokies, except they don’t have pennies in Australia and I don’t play slots. The poker room is downstairs. They didn’t have Limit Hold Hold Em and spread only two tables of No Limit. I chose not to play because I suck at No Limit cash. I just went to look around, check out the ambiance and the atmosphere. The atmosphere was reminiscent of a Motel Six lobby, Australian food sucks. The only thing worth eating down under is meat pie and schnitzel. Beef isn’t corn fed, so it has that grassy gamey taste to it. I It’s the kind of beef you get a t a health food store that has all the omega 3’s 6’s9’s or whatever. Less fat equals less taste. So I had the lamb shank. It was decent but the mashed potatoes were instant and the carrots were overcooked. Our waiter had an American accent. His name was Michael. He insisted that we (there is no more we, but there was) try Vegimite. Vegimite is made from Yeast. XXXX, pronounced four X, is a brewery in Queensland. They brew yellow-pissey beer similar to Anheuser-Busch. The process includes disposing of the yeast. Some genius figured out that they can sell this used yeast to a company that would make something out of it. I say something because it can only describe it as a cross between margarine and axle grease. I don’t understand how it’s fit for human consumption.
For some reason, I have an uncanny knack for remembering names. My father still calls my Uncle Avery, Adrian. He’s been doing since I was young enough to still call him Dad, which means two things. One—It’s not genetic and two—I’m getting old. Michel lacks certain social skills. He had this look on his face that screamed my hand is in the cookie jar and I don’t want to get caught. His voice was timid, and he avoided making eye contact. Quaint, shyness often gets mistaken for creepiness. He wasn’t creepy, but creepy was close. Michael was from the United States. He loved to surf. He said the one of biggest surfing competitions is held at Coolangatta, a beach town like Huntington or Laguna Beach. Before relocating to Australia he lived with his mother in Florida. Before that, he lived with his father in Loma Linda. The best man at his father’s second marriage works at the Lincoln Memorial Shrine in Redlands.
In other words, it’s a small fucking word after all.
I went to the A.K. Smiley Library today and I know the Lincoln Memorial Shrine is somewhere around there, but I’m not exactly sure where. My extraordinary name remembering skills are humbled by my lack of sense of direction. I want to go in there and say hey I met this guy that knows you in Australia, but I don’t know who to look for. I remember Michael’s name, but I don’t remember his father’s best man’s name. I have to meet someone to remember their name. I almost don’t want to go because It’s been a mystery for a couple years now. There’s this guy I heard about in another country that works a couple miles away from me. Part of me wants to keep the mystery, but part of me wants to check out the Lincoln Memorial Shrine. I don’t know. It can’t be half as good as Great Moment with Lincoln at Disneyland right?
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