My Slice of Reality,

Bill Biggart’s final photo’s from September 11 have been recovered recently. There is some absolutely amazing shots and perspectives there. Its impossible to imagine however what he felt as those towers came down. Impossible to imagine what his last thoughts were. Its really moving.

I highly recommend atleast giving it a look

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I just noticed something interesting. I use an RSS reader, NetNewsWire Lite to check all my sites daily. Sometimes the application can be extremely frustrating in that it will duplicate entries that I’ve already read - multiple times. Like, show me the same article every day for a month. That gets frustrating. I realized something interesting about it though…

All the sites are Moveable Type sites. Not quite sure if its 100% accurate because I’m going by memory here but I should really look into it. Maybe there’s something wrong with the way MT does RSS.

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Would some one please tell me what the hell is wrong with the Mac’s printing system? It is the only operating system on the planet that will print one page, then wait five minutes, print another…all on the lowest print quality! What is wrong here? It can’t just be drivers because its doing it on my HP Photosmart 7350 and my Samsung IL-1710. This isn’t rocket science! For christs sakes your using the CUPS print system from Linux! I know that works fine (once you get it setup) because I’ve used it on every linux install I ever had.

Christ Apple. First you make Mail.app print everything upside down. Then you make the printing system just plain suck. Isn’t that kind of a gimmie? This is something you need to work? Ok, my wish list for 10.4:

A working print queue!

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I never before really thought about the freedom inherent in owning a car until mine was taken from me. This weekend, I bid farewell to my car. It was a Saturn, a ‘91. It had no power, it had no personality, it had no pimp capabilities - but it was mine. With my car, I could go anywhere. I was limited only by my imagination and the rising gas prices.

With my car I was free.

Now, my sits at a repair shop. Dented, bruised, and most certainly not worth putting the money into fixing it. The insurance companies been notified and they will begin digging; hunting, attempting to find everything wrong with. I’ll be told how worthless it is, how sad and small my simple little Saturn was. That hurts.

That little car and I had a lot of memories. Memories of random drives with friends to borders and destinations unknown. Thoughts of old flings, old pressures, old pains long since forgotten. It held dreams. The dreams of friendships lasting forever, dreams of going places and being things that I knew I could never be but in my car, with it wrapped around me, I felt powerful.

My parents couldn’t tell me what to do inside my car. My friends couldn’t judge me. With the stereo turned up and the engine revving to its red line, the world was displaced. I could fly. Now, I look upon the fact that I am once again bound by worldly words and issues. Its amazing how humbling that is.

My generation lacks a defining moment where we become men, or women. You could argue that its when we can vote but thats a hollow argument. Our voice can be presented, but its rarely heard. You could argue that its when we turn 21, when we can drink and fully step into the role of a societal being.

I don’t think thats when we become men, when we become the first step to what we truly are. Rather, I think thats the first moment you step into your own world, your own country. We become adults, partial shadows of who we are, when we wrap that steel chassis around ourselves. When we snap that buckle, turn the key and feel the power around and underneath us. When that engine revves, when we hear the poetry and music inside, that is the true moment of definition in our young lives.

With that gone - I feel young and lost again. Now, I have to search for my freedom again. I have to find something to get away from the world in, my escape pod; my life raft. Except this time, I know what I want and it will be kept from me. Freedom - with a catch.

How interesting.

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