Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
In case you're just jumping in on the action, this is where I muse (check out the archives for past musings). This week is an EXAM WEEK which means my musings are shorter than before, but have no fear; there are links and archives and a whole internet out there to muse along side you until I return.
If you'd like to muse for me for a while, just post something in the comments section or submit a rant here.
Thanks. I'll be back soon.
Monday, February 23, 2009
I'm still studying my axons off, but I just found out that tomorrow my manual medicine examiner will be a community doc I'd really like to impress. This is great because not only does it add pressure to the experience, it also sheds light on the fact I've only been to two OPP classes this block and was planning to blow off the test entirely. You see, what's wrong with medical education in this country is... no. No, no time for a rant now. For me, it's gluten-free cheese-whiz and Tostitos till morning and a shit ton of book-work to boot.
But, for you:
Here's some silly...
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
---Does the semicolon take away from the "holy shit?" I wanted to use an exclamation point, but like all exclamation points this one would have the unintended consequence of stopping the action mid-spluge (sorry). The exclamation point, as you know, is the sloppy union (sorry) of an arrow and motion lines. You know, motion lines: the squiggly things artists draw around comic super heroes to imply force or power. I like that part: the motion lines. I wish there was a motion lines key-stroke so I could add power to the "holy shit" without the arrow of the exclamation point --> the one that makes a reader stop in her tracks and look at what she's just read. That's emphasis, an unintended consequence at the exclamation point's conception.
For now just think of my semicolon as an upside-down exclamation point - a little one. Like a small dog, it makes a lot of noise but doesn't actually stop you from breaking into the house.---
So let's try that again, this time raising your mental voice with "shit" but not pausing until the italics run out:
Yes, pals, today is another holy shit; learning's in the fire and Jonny's gotta study day.
Here's your gundies:
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
That's right, I am indeed competing in this year's Osteo-stache competition. Wish me luck, sponsor me if you'd like, and check back to watch the progression.
Students get growing for 3rd annual Osteo-stache
By Rachel Kester, MSII, SGA vice president
Last year's phenomenal mustache competition is back this year! Osteo-stache is a pledge drive/competition to raise money for a worthy cause. Participants are encouraged to get friends and family to donate money so they can thoroughly embarrass (or immortalize) themselves. It's a chance to be creative and charitable all at once! All proceeds go to Caring Unlimited in Biddeford. Anyone capable of growing facial hair can participate.
The contest began February 2nd. Contestants showed up clean-shaven (or if normally sporting a beard, clean-trimmed) for the pre-competition photo op. They must also show up with a pledge form and at least two pledges amounting to at least $10. Participants then have one month to grow their facial hair as much as testosterone levels will allow and collect more pledges.
Osteo-stache concludes March 2. Contestants will appear with a creatively trimmed beard, costume and theme song that best reflects the creative facial hair stylings at the fashion show. There will be prizes awarded for Best, Bushiest, Funniest, and of course, Creepiest. (Other categories may be added.)
All proceeds will go to 'Caring Unlimited', an organization that works to end domestic violence in York County. This includes providing support and safe haven to women, their children and men whose lives are affected by domestic abuse, in a manner that honors their essential worth, nurtures their inherent strengths and respects their right of self-determination.
I just bought a pair of $30 Skullcandy earbuds. Not only are they pink (for supporting breasts), soundenatious, and comfy as all get-out, check out the warranty:
- Defective Product Replacement: We will gladly replace any defective Skullcandy product. Please write a detailed description of the problem below so our team can serve your needs quickly.
- Aggressive Listening Discount: All Skullcandy products that fail due to "aggressive listening"--that is, if Skullcandy products fail or break due to a crazy crash on the mountain or a violent head-banging session... or any other reason that is not a product defect, we will still hook you up! Send in whatever remains of your product, and we will send you a coupon good for 50% off any product in our Online Shop.
If you're in the market, check em out at:
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I'm gonna miss anatomy lab.
But now it's 11:44 and my pirated copy of Underworld: Rise of the Lichens isn't going to watch itself. In the importance of full disclosure, the movie is actually called Underworld: Rise of the Lycans, but I thought an uprising of rock and tree fungi would be a neat story. This whole Dracula vs. the Wolf Man thing has totally been done to death; can I getta amen? Amen? Incidentally (note to self: stop using "incidentally" as a tool for flow transition.), I do love a good vampire story. I wasn't thrilled when they cast Keanu Reeves in the 2000 Dracula remake, but the Underworlds make a solid play at the high budget vampire movie in an age of cheap and cheesy sci-fi/fantasy flicks (Harry Potter, Hobbits and Neo not included, cause those are the exceptions, right?).
Ok ok; must stop rambling: must drink gluten-free bourbon and watch vampires suck. Before I go, though, a few things: 1) Lichens = funny when paired with creatures of the night, 2) Night soil = a funny way to say "people-poo," 3) don't think I'm just blowing you off (Tomorrow, I'm presenting an old blog entry as a paper for Essentials of Osteopathic Medicine. T
It's the link to Project - Free TV, an AV Mecca of quality entertainment. The site's not as intuitive as it should be, but the content and the free in a single virus-free package is unsurpassed.
As always, I'm planning to read and/or tweak this edit-free-post (EFP) in the next couple of days, so my apologies go out to everyone who got here early.
For now, just think vampires and tree-fungus. Hilarious.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Below is both my newest and lamest link in my linktaculous collection.
You can expect more and better links to come as the week progresses, followed by a marathon rant about what's wrong with medical education in this country, two days of unedited, drunkey posts, and, as always, more commas than actual words on the page.
==//== damnit; never say "words on the page" ==//==
Speaking of rants, in the meantime try one out for yourself. Ranting is easy, but some find it difficult to get started. Let me help.
Start with: " You know what's wrong with" (fill in your rant's topic here)* and end your sentence with "in this country?**"
It's just that easy. My Scared of Failing Medical School Rant will start out, "You know what's wrong with medical education in this country?"
Post your rant in the comments section. Maybe someone else will like your rant and tag-team rant with you for a while. Tag-team rants are the most synergistic or all rants and, therefore, the most powerful.
*Don't fret about choosing the perfect topic. Most rants sway and stray from their original "You know what's wrong with---in this country" statement to all manner of topics. The point of a rant is never to demoralize an imaginary adversary; it's so you can have the "ah-ha" moment. This happens when your rant strays to the issue that's really upsetting you, and in a moment of clarity you realize what your doing, pause mid-sentence, and say, "Shit," more to yourself than to anyone else. We should probably call that the "ah-shit" moment instead.
**I used a question mark after my example "You know what's wrong with---in this country" statement, because you knew I was ranting and wouldn't have inadvertently answered my rhetorical question. As long as your audience knows your ranting, using a question mark here instead of an exclamation point makes you look like less of an asshole. Your question mark will make readers feel like you're including them as your ranting ally. It gives them an 'in' for a possible future tag-team rant. Using an exclamation point puts them on the defensive early making them more likely to poke holes in your flimsy rant-logic later. Just remember, if there is any doubt that the person receiving your rant won't realize your question is rhetorical (this is especially likely if your rant platform is any type of in Instant Messenger, phone conversation, or meat-space) use the exclamation point. There is nothing worse than the awkward exchange between a ranter and the person who just tried to answer his "You know what's wrong with---in this country" statement.
(Once again, sorry for the edit-free quickie. I'm now 2.5 hours late for class and gotsta schtudy gotsta schtudy. Also, don't worry about the link unless you're also looking for an excuse to blow something off (hehe: blow something off). Just work on those rants and we'll call it a day.)
Sunday, February 15, 2009
What power. What thrust. What immortal possibilities!
(People who use too many exclamations marks in a single web based interaction are weird.)
My friends - I write in a John McCanian accent - this month I go gluten free. That's right: No Fatties.
No no, that's glutton free. Right right. No wheat...
No wheat sucks.
I had a mug'o'campbell's tomato soup tonight. Second ingredient? "Wheat flour."
That's right, alter ego, wheat flour. You'd think that once you added the tomato paste and water, the rest would just be a hint'o'salt'n'pepper and a smidge'o'basil. Not the case.
You see, wheat goes with everything; it's the black to my "...in time" 8 track. It's the Olestra to my anal leakage. But, do you know what wheat doesn't go with?
That's right, friends, this Kentucky based liquor is a product of fermented corn and a dash of good ol' American ingenuity. So, on this the eve of my gluten free thirty days, I say, "Good riddance IPA, mac'n'cheese and breaded-fried delights.
"I have bourbon now, and you can't hurt me any more."
Going back for Jim Beam seconds (never sloppy, always smooth), this is Jonathan Story, saying,
"Hyphenate* always, and if necessary use spaces."
*If anyone can tell me the word that stands for the type of hyphenating with an apostrophe I did with "smidge'o'basil," you win a silly little product I made in the on-line. Happy dictionarying!
Friday, February 13, 2009
"Jack is envying the benign indifference of the drifting rain."
Close seconds in the Sad Sap category were Liz, mother of two, with:
"Liz can't live on bread alone. Which is unfortunate, because everything else is really expensive."
And Shawn, effete spandex model, with:
"Shawn is sick. Shawn is bored. Shawn is bored sick. Shawn is sick of being bored. Shawn is bored of being sick."
Other near misses were Steph, Lauren and Brooke with:
"Steph is wondering where my cue card is that tells me how to deal with this situation...."
"Lauren just found out scott was on his way up to suprise me and is having car problems!! al;kjewa;oijas."
"Brooke is going to work."
To all the runners up, I offer my condolences for your depressing situations and for this new disappointment of coming so very close to winning yet falling short once again. Think of the Most Depressingly Poetic Status Update Ever! award as an excuse find the golden ring around your toilet, the silver lining in those drifting rain clouds. Remember, turn your grief to art, and we're all winners.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Just make sure none of those little soldiers find there way out of the Trojans. If you think your 'puter is in bad shape now, just wait for the mess that'll cause!
Happy Birthday Charlie, and many happy returns.
If you're not too busy following the 32 year old IVF mother of 14, check out the link below and learn a little something about this father of evolutionary biology:
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
"Now, Alex, you have two choices: One - You can go to bed now-"
"I dowanna goda bed!!!"
"TWO - You can sleep for ten minutes then get up and do whatever you want."
"I dowanna g-" And, the three-year-old would pause in his tantrum to think on it and take a quick poop in his diaper. "Ten minutes?"
"Ok!" And, Alex would run up the stairs and dive into bed and pull the covers up and
All night long.
I started this post with the goal of writing for ten minutes. As Alex did, I hope to stretch that time a bit. An all night writing session might be a little much for a medical student in the throws of exam prep, but an hour couldn't hurt. Hell, maybe I'll even edit before posting.
I spend so many days putting off little joys, small tasks and large responsibilities with the droning mantra of, "Ten more minutes; One more Ze frank show; One quick nap..." Alex's response seems much more pragmatic: running upstairs so as to get through the unpleasantries as quickly as possible. Maybe I'd find that once I was there I would be caught up in my innate desire to participate in and complete the tasks at hand. Like Alex finding himself wrapped up in the warmth and softness of his own bed, maybe I'd write all night.
Tonight, though, writing is the game, the show, the fun I'd like to have before bed. I'm putting off my studies for these few moments of leisure. What I should do - what I'm going to do now - is turn off the computer and run to my books as fast as I can so as to get through with the unpleasantries as quickly as possible.
I'll be back in 10 minutes.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
--//-- strike that --//--
When I don't write, I like to put a little something in the post to entertain or inform you with someone else's hard work in place of my normally entertaining and informative scribblings. My most recent post was not only lame in content, it was short on payoff. (Seriously, don't even read it. BORING. Blogger templates? Really?) For that I owe you.
That is why I give to you the gem of my linktaculous collection:
Turn your sound up, and start on easy.
Now, I'm not planning on hearing from you for a couple of days, but your boss is. If you are still playing when someone turns on the sun, be sure to call in sick. Don't worry about the ramifications; I checked, and it's worth it.
From what I hear, we should all be calling in sick at least once a month with no explanation. This could be yours. Enjoy.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
but I can guess.
Looking back at the week, hours turn into seconds - snowflakes in a globe - flitting by like weeks in a year.
Think back to last year: to March. Now think about where you were sometime near the beginning of that month. At the time that week - that second, that moment - was paramount in its importance. It was
The Emperor of Oranges.
Like anandamide - from the Sanskrit word for "inner bliss" (thanks Michael Pollan) - time is the great hypnotist, "Now,
sleep. And when you awake you shall remember nothing of this-"
But where does it go? The time? The hours in the day? Why this relativity?
As I sat across from Santa Clause this afternoon in the clinic, his timing was off. Like many older folks - especially those who've just had an episode or two of unbreathing - their social is slower than ours. There are just more steps.
It starts with careful listening. Then thinking back on what was said. Translation. Interpretation. And response.
Our brains work so fast, this only takes a second or two but damned if those seconds don't take forever. In those seconds my mind wanders to lunchtime lectures, later ventures and past experiences of grace wh-
"And, Mr. Clause, how much prednisone did they give you when you left the hospital?" Arteries are important this block. Gotta draw some out and work on mneumonics, no, too much info. Maybe pictographs for-
"Bout twenty-four. Gone ta run-out on Wednesday."
"Okay, great, and how about your albuterol?" Speaking of arteries, I wonder how my heart is doing - no palpitations since that last- and what's going on with the truck today? I know I'm supposed to help- Shit and Kai, I meant to send Matt with a letter today. Two weeks is a long time for a third grader to-
"Ya know I can't remember what they said'bout that."
"That's okay. Do you remember anything else the doctors said?" Driving North tomorrow feels great. Fellows'll be in the lab Sunday, but class can wait. Amazing how good you get at cramming in med school. Cracking Matt's rib was cool. Must do more of that. And get Someone to teach me cranial. How weird when that lecture went over time and Hartman-
"That's okay, I'm sure we can find the records. How do you spend your days, Mr. Clause?" Mmm and sweet, soft-
"Smoking Cigaaas an' Junkin' Up Ma Lungs. HA! *cough-hack-couch ugh* Ha ha."
"Right. Ha. Indeed. I was kind of in the middle of something. Tell me, how many cigars do you smoke?" It's like this medium has out lived its purpose. I mean, it's obvious I'm creating a visual for how I cram a lot of thoughts into mere seconds of space, but isn't this overdoing it? Come-on, right? These are intelligent folks; they 'got it' ten lines ago. Is it really worth-
In those short moments between natural pauses in conversation (and elongated ones), I captured more from my recent history - the past week, the past day, the past hour - than I could of any random day in the past year, any week in the past two years, or any month in the past five years. Hell, go back a decade and I struggle to come up with that much vivid and focused memory for an entire year.
We remember glimpses - pictures - to be sure. And, yes, hard pressed I could remember all manner of things from those times given a specific event, a place, a story or postcard. I can remember mini golf with sixth graders and orange hair because I saw a photo of me playing mini golf with sixth graders and orange hair. I can localize that one fuzzy event to the springtime - or Fall - no. Summertime - because I was wearing shorts. I could've sworn it was Fall. Sometime when I was working with fith'n'sixth graders - must be about a decade ago - I would've been 16ish. What year was that?
I wonder if this is why older people always give you the year to go with a story. Like a fine Cabernet, they value the vintage. Is this because that's how we reorganize our brains when we get older, or is it just the fancy of another generation? I'd like to think it's because there are so many memories crammed into a few short years that timestamping stories is a way to solidify depth in a life that can only comprehend slivers. More likely than not it just helps with filing the stories away for easy access later. Still, there's something to that- that finite lens.
It's almost an hour since I started typing, and I'm far too sleepy to proofread before posting. If you're skimming to the end after a shameful beginning, forgive me now and come back later. I'll fix it by then. Otherwise, the moral of the story is we see life in slivers and the depth we have today will be flat and beige tomorrow. The only way to sustain Meaningful is to renew it as often as it takes to keep fresh glimpses of it accessible at moment's notice: in the time it takes Santa Clause to remember his prescriptions.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Until I catch up, ENJOY:
And, if you're bored, compare and contrast:
(These are all TED Talks and if you don't know what TED Talks are or what TED is you should probably watch a few more TED Talks on TED.com and burn a few dozen hours tickling your brain.)
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
I've sometimes thought ---\\\---
---strike that too---
I've just thought (and would like to state said thought as a past glimpse of enlightenment so as to now use that thought as a literary device whereby I move from past to present, engendering continued contemplation and well reasoned discernment along the way leading up to the present where I take said thought from discorporal vapor to living body in 6 short paragraphs) that video is cheap. It's easy. Its-
Ok, it's not that easy.
But, it is, right? You know the viral videos that spin out of control after some jackass left his camera phone on
on record, and some other jackass loses his grip and topples head over heels onto
who, (interject interjection here), said something like:
"They blanked up the whole blanking party with their blanking blank up!"
That stuff is blanked up. But, we love it! Of course, the other extreme is the finely tuned dramatic shorts cooked up in some college film lab - depicting "SOLITUDE" as it has never been portrayed before in black'n'white - well, sepia tone - and finds an audience of ONE
of one of the "actors" - and I put actors in "quotes" because of a Scrubs episode where Doctor Funnyname pokes fun at other Doctor Funnyname and a J.D. is like, "
**sidebar**") and doesn't fare so well at the box-office.
By a show of hands, who followed that last sentence start-to-finish, apostrophes and all?
It's like a freakin' algebra equation!
Anyhoo, the point is Video is the antitheses of what I do. I write and write and write with little to no thought of grammar, syntax, editing or general sanity. I'm a big fan of those things in theory and can be a really big snob about them in others' writing, but fuck if I care who thinks this bit of verbiage is running on past its prime or not; or who thinks ending sentences in "not" is poor form or not. I just don't want to be borning. Editing takes time and effort and guts. Because a finished product is open to all manner of criticism and judgment without the out,
"It's just a work in progress."
Video is a short shitty hunk-o-wood that you whittle down to 1/tenth its size and create from one mundane stream a Flow which transcends content. And becomes
or art or satire or what-have-you. But it's a product. It's a metric shit-ton of hard work packaged so you can't hide the bow.
Stream of Consciousness is what eye due. It's the drivel that dribbles past my inner I and onto the
--don't say "page." don't say "page"--
floor right in front of the urinal where I was too busy reading the 8 and 1/2 by 11 on the wall to keep track of my aim. *phew* Nailed It!
This part is easy. The stream. What's tricky is making it flow. Effortlessly, seamlessly, working without a net. Because the misspellings, misprints and left out words that I'm sure litter this page ruin the pace this race is running past my brain cells and onto the
--don't say "page." don't say "page."--
canvas - shit that's trite - and
ruin the whole effect.
I made a video for Someone today - the kind of Someone who deserves a capital 'S' - out of 2 minutes of footage 2 hours of editing and a MacBook. (And it wasn't that good!) It's exactly the opposite of what I do! What I'm writing now took 20 minutes of typing with 20 seconds of, "Wait, I should of used a period instead of a 'muthr fuckin right ee did!'"
By now I've sure you'm guessed- ^Strike that. Reverse it.^ (and make that 26 seconds)- that this whole post was to say I'm thinking about video as a means of communication. Making the 40 second clip for Someone was fun. It was a new kind of creative. Doing something similar for many is a little intimidating. And i love
But, maybe, in weeks to come I'll post a short film or two about, "Pleuratude" or some postmodern bullshit for your critiquing pleasure. Or not.
(If you've made it this far, thanks for working your way through this one. Not having read it myself, I'm sure it was arduous. Thank you for your time. I promise to do better next time. Or not.
But I'll try.)
Monday, February 2, 2009
"Gimmi the Z-pack 3-pack, doc, and don't hesitate to throw in a few Percs and Vics as a reward for my stoic endurance.
"Cough syrup with codeine, eh? I'll just stick with the antibiotics."
I once heard a wise old man say (actually he was a 23 year-old playing the Wise Old Man in a short lived off-Broadway production), "In theory, theory and practice are the same, but in practice they're different." Deep down, I believe my sinuses are in the throws of a viral attack which will achieve a sustainable ceasefire in the next 3 or 4 days. But, sure as the day is long, I'll be taking those antibiotics like my intracranial pressure depends on it and credit them for my soon to be good nasal health. Medical school and all, I find comfort in the confines of this long held assumption about reality and continue to cling to it when the going gets infected.
I wonder if my generation will - if any generation has - change who we are based on what we've learned and not simply teach it to our progeny. It seems like a faster way to enhance our social evolution than leapfrogging through time in 20 year gaps. The world, Our world, creeps and crawls like a panther stalking its prey. It moves through the night like the air around it is growing ever thicker, muscles straining, tensing, as it slows before-
Like a gunshot. Like a snapped rubberband. With a war or a march or a hunger strike, we are shaken to our roots as the next generation finds its footing. In the time it takes their elders to shrug, a new paradigm becomes the norm (or not, as the 60's showed us), gets settled and sticks around for a while.
what if we kept changing? What if revolution was a way of life, keeping us constantly on our toes - thinking about and questioning new ideas, and moving Forward? Would we, as many conservatives fear, lose our grip on what little truth we have and forego civilization for chaos? Would we step into more profound truths that have eluded even the most enlightened revolutionaries for lack of concert in their musings?
I suppose it comes down to intentionality in looking for the Real and acting accordingly no matter how much it makes you squirm. Everything's on the table, no strings attached, zero APR*. That sounds nice. Scary, but nice.
I'm gonna give my sinuses another day to sort themselves out before starting the antibiotics.
*(for 6 month trial period only, then 29.97% variable APR on purchases and 19.97% APR on Balance Transfers through 9/31/2009.)
Sunday, February 1, 2009
(ps. it's not that i'm ridiculously lazy, a bit sick and somewhat distracted that i'm posting so many links and so few uniques. it's because i am genuinely entertained by them (while being rediculously lazy and a bit sick).