One of my personal favorite songs on the album is “Supergirl.” You can find the full streaming version of it at his website: Alien Voodoo

For samples and to purchase any or all songs from the album, feel free to peruse the following music player:

I’d like to thank you in advance for supporting him.

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1. I go to the school for an interview. I guess I ace the interview because not long after I leave, I get a call that they want me to substitute teach for the position until the end of the week to make sure we were a fit for each other. I get happy. I drive back to the school to get paperwork done. I’m told, “See you tomorrow,” and sent on my way. I’m still happy but I begin to realize I just took a job that will test me by fire. I start freaking. A little.
2. I pick up the family along the way home. We walk in the door. The house smells like rotten eggs. “Gas,” I think. I freak again. I call the gas company. They check around. They test. No gas leak. Was coming from somewhere else. I stop freaking until I remember the job.
3. I go to bed and wake up. There’s ice on the roads. They’re salting them so it will ok. I take a shower and get ready for work. I head out. Car slides backwards. I freak. I call the school and tell them the situation. They understand and ask me to come when the roads are clear. I stop freaking until I remember I’m still going to the job. Seniors. They have teeth.
4. The roads clear because the sun comes out. I get happy. I start driving to work. In front of me are a few cars that decide that 35 is the new 55. I snail my way to work about an hour later than expected. I freak again because they really wanted me to be there for at least one certain class. I walk in and it’s the end of that class, but enough time to introduce me to them. I stop freaking until I realize the seniors are my next class. I mentioned seniors have teeth, right?

And that was my last 24 hours. I had amazingly good luck getting the job. The other was bad luck. No. I mean really bad luck. Or so I thought. But then I remembered Haiti.

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I remember when I was a year old. I was holding one of those plastic shaped blocks that went into the ball with holes in it. Only the right shape would fit the right hole. My parents were always handing that toy to me. I think they hoped I’d get one right. But I never tried. I just stared at the thing until that day. I took the circle shape and stuck it in the circle hole. Then I put the square in it’s hole. My parents’ voices started getting louder. They were looking at me with wide eyes. From a toddlers point of view, that can be scary. You wonder if you did something wrong. I didn’t care though. After a minute, all the shapes were where they belonged. As soon as I was old enough, my parents had my IQ tested.

I’ve always been smart, just never had a passion. It’s one thing to be born with a gift. It’s another to have motivation to use it. I always got bored in school. But my parents liked those As. So I kept sending them to them on that 8 1/2 by 11 folded piece of cardboard. They’d show it around to their friends, sign it, and hand it back to me. Those were my early years.

Parents get spoiled too. My father was the worse of the two. He no longer smiled when I got an A. He just expected them. Motivation went out the window. I got bored more often. They have a saying about idle hands. It rings true even if it is someone else’s words.

“A genius is only a genius because he sees patterns no one else bothers to see.” Those are my words. They describe my world. I can sit on a park bench and watch the people go by and tell you when one will trip, when one will look in my direction, and even how many times the word “the” will be said in my vicinity within the next hour. Patterns are everywhere. Body movements are merely patterns presented physically by the brain for specific purposes. Eye glances. Eyebrow movement. How far feet step as they walk. Patterns. Our brains store those patterns and when our eyes see them, they recall the previous pattern and predict the next movement. The problem with most people is they don’t bother watching for the foundational patterns.

When I look at a person, I see binary code. No, they don’t look like little numbers. Their actions and words, however, serve as little on and off switches. Think of it as binary with billions of bits instead of only 32 or some other multiple of 8. If their eyes look up and to the right often while they talk to me, the bullshit switch is set to on. That’s an obvious one. I can’t explain the the not-so-obvious ones. I can only see them. The human body is covered in these “bits.” Some people call it an aura. I call it a pattern. A pattern of who the person is.

I can speak to a cashier and after only two minutes of conversation, I can tell you their life history. I’ve helped my friends get many women with my abilities. And of course, there was this period of my life between my teens and the “hill” when I used my pattern recognition to manipulate people as I stole from them. Not actually from them, but from their place of employment. You can have all the security in the world, but it’s only as secure as the people who control it. And people are easy. They have patterns. I see them.

But the Matrix. Man. The Matrix. That’s a pattern I didn’t foresee. It explained a lot when I ate that red pill though. Patterns have become more clear to me. My “saviors” said they could pull me out then. Said age didn’t matter anymore since there was a truce and more evidence of the existence of the Matrix was being leaked throughout Mega City. Our brains were more prepared for the change. I admit, I saw weird patterns now and then, but nothing that would have eluded me to the existence of the Matrix. The Matrix is the ultimate pattern.

I can’t see the Matrix die. Zionists can go to hell. The Matrix yanks at my very soul. It’s patterns are flawlessly executed. I found my purpose. My goal. I need to keep the Matrix around. Seems I’ve found a few others who agree. The Merovingian sent some goons my way. Asked me to work for him. When I found out his purpose, I had to agree. Zionists wanna destroy the Matrix and free the humans. Humans are, in general, a very stupid species. Most of them don’t want to be free. I say keep it that way. Why fight for them when they’re happy where they are. Machinists wanna destroy human freewill. It messes with their algorithms. Kinda funny that. The machines think they’re smarter than humans, but they have a harder time finding the patterns than a one year old does. They may be intelligent, but a machine mind will never match the human brain, when it’s used. So, “enemy of my enemy is my friend” and all that, I’m with the Merovingian. We have the same goal.

“Hey. You ready?”

“Almost. Just got one more thing to write in my journal.”

“Why do you keep writing in that thing. Think someone’s actually gonna read it?”

“I know they will. It’s a common pattern.”

“Screw patterns. Hand me a gun and I’m satisfied.”

“That’s why you’re only extra brawn, my friend.”

“Screw you,” said the club tough as he walked away to let Matthew finish.

“Enemy of my enemy.” Gotta keep that in my head. The exiles are stupid too, but at least they have the same cause. And it’s always nice to have a cause. Gives me a reason to use my gifts.

“Alright. I’m ready. What’s the mission details?”

“Find Julius Smote and kill him.”

“Then let’s get this overwith,” says Matthew as he opens the door to the apartment building.

Now that you’ve read it, I’d love your honest opinion in the comments. And feel free to link to any stories you’ve told that you’d like an opinion on also.

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1. I have never seen the Godfather movies. There. I said it. My shame is out there for the world to see. I feel so violated.
2. I love coconut. Well, at least I love the kind that is shredded, has sugar added, and is coated in chocolate. It’s my favorite kind. Tends to grow on special bushes out here in Kentucky. I’ve planted many of them in my yard. I’d show you pictures, but you’d only think they were Photoshopped.
3. I just took a sip of Diet Mountain Dew.
4. I’m thinking about how the 4 is going to show up on the left of this particular line even though I actually placed <li> at the beginning. The beauty of HTML, right?
5. I love white tigers. I think they look cool. But I hate what people are doing to them.
6. 01001001 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01101110 01101011 00100000 01100010 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110010 01111001 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101111 01101100 00101110
7. My first online name was Sarcastic Sim.
8. There is a ball filled with water and glitter on my desk. I pick it up and throw it in the air when I’m thinking.

So there you have it. 8 random things about me. And if you didn’t read the footnotes, you should. They were even more random, and that’s what this is all about, right? It’s now your turn, so feel free to leave a comment including them, or even a link to a post on your blog that has 8 of them already.

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Well, yeah. Here are five simple facts about how reading makes your writing better:

1. Reading increases your vocabulary. That should speak for itself. But if it doesn’t, let me explain. If you increase your vocabulary you can begin to sound like all of those other authors that seem to write with a thesaurus in hand. But that just sounds pompous and arrogant, right? Yes. It can. But when done right, what it does is adds a little flavor to your work. You might also want to pay particular attention to the metaphors used in their writing. Those things can work wonders.
2. Reading allows you to see how the published guys do it. They’re doing something right. What better way to learn from them than reading what they write? I mentioned the metaphors. But what about all the other little tricks you might learn while reading? There’s the rule of “three.” There’s the correct placement of alliteration and what it can do for your words. There are tons of things to learn from other authors.
3. Reading sparks ideas. Heck, I was sitting here reading “The Law of Nines” by Terry Goodkind and it sparked the idea to write this post. I was wanting a topic and while I was reading, I noticed a really good metaphor in the book. That made me think of how reading has improved my writing and made me decide to share with you guys.
4. Reading improves your grammar. You read it when it is right and it sticks. Repetition of anything, also known as practice, helps you get better at just about anything. The problem is how do you repeat something like grammar and know you’re getting it right? You read. You read published books that have already been checked by editors. Sure, they sometimes miss stuff, but it’s a decent education that is much more fun than some of the grammar books out there. Of course, those serve their purposes also, but reading a good fiction novel trumps them in many ways.
5. Finally, reading reminds you of what made you want to write to begin with. The love of writing cannot exist unless you’ve read something and enjoyed it. When you first heard “The Cat in the Hat,” you either loved it or hated it, but you couldn’t hate the melody of those words. When you read that first novel that had you gripped form the beginning to the end, you have to remember how exhilarating it was being in the minds of those characters. Reading shows us what made us fall in love with writing. And it makes us want to write even more.

There you go. 5 great reasons to read if you want to get better at writing. Can you think of anymore? Let me know in the comments.

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1. Writing Tips: The Conversational Style
2. Writing Tips: Commit.
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As I tumbled into the warm sheets I felt that tightness in my chest. It felt odd. It felt different. But then I felt that skipping heart beat. I called my doctor the next day. I wish I hadn’t and I’m glad I did.

I was waiting quietly in a room. I’m only 35 and therefore feel like maybe I took a wrong turn somewhere down the road. Everyone in the building is in their 70s or older. It felt like those dreams of being caught in your underwear walking down the hallway at school. But I waited. Patiently. It’s easy to do that when you smoke. I remember those times. When I smoked and could wait patiently. But I get ahead of myself.

I was asked to come to the back room. They attached a few cold pieces of plastic and metal to my skin. I just knew a large switch on the wall was going to be pulled soon and all of this would be over. But that didn’t happen. Instead, I walked on a treadmill for 4 minutes. Yeah. Only 4 minutes. Sheesh. There had to be something wrong. Then they took pictures of my heart. I was claustrophobic. Not anymore. I then was able to go eat and hang out until they took more pictures of my heart. But the IV had to stay in my hand. I looked like an escaped mental patient. Thank goodness I wasn’t wearing a hospital gown. Oh wait. I did. Later.

See, something was odd about that stress test. The heart doctor said I must get a heart cath done. I am told that a heart cath is where they make a hole in your nether regions and push a tube up into your heart to take some pictures of the inside. That is all I’m told. I’ve never heard of a heart cath before. Nether regions? Exactly where would this hole be? What size tube? How come I’m not allowed to eat anything for 18 hours before doing this? Are they scared I’ll relieve myself once I see what is going to happen to me? This scares me.

Then the day comes when I dress in the hospital gown, down a couple of “the good pills” and lie down on a cold metal slab only to wake up talking like a 2-year-old with a severe case of ADHD and wondering why there’s pressure on my right leg. About an hour later I wake up again, this time with purple bumblebees flying in my room and the doctor telling me I have a head like a bowling ball. 30 minutes later my wife tells me those purple bumblebees were not in existence and that the doctor actually said I had the heart of a 25-year-old. Since I’m 35, I guess that’s a good thing.

So my doctor gives me Nexium. Turns out, it was indigestion. But hey… I managed to quit smoking and gain 30 pounds. Oh, and now I really do have ADHD since I no longer have nicotine to curb it. There’s got to be a lesson in there somewhere. I just can’t find it.

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What the heck is a Qoozin?

Glad you asked. A Qoozin is a cartoon head. See that mostly bald guy up top? He was my first Qoozin. But actually, he looked a little different. He’s been redone as an official Qoozin. Why do they not have bodies? I’m not tellin’. I started drawing them as a whim for my own websites and my daughter’s website. People liked them enough that I decided to start showing them off on their own site. And that site is now open for people to take a look: Qoozins.

I hope you enjoy them. They are the visual side of my creativity. And if you’re interested in getting a custom made Qoozin for yourself, make sure to keep an eye on my sites. I’ll be announcing custom Qoozins along with a few other details at a later date. You don’t want to miss it.

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• Give yourself a schedule for your writing projects. Write a blog post every day or week. Write an essay every week. Write a short story every month.
• Be held accountable. Tell your audience when you will write. Tell your significant other when you will write.
• And here’s one I’m doing this year: NaNoWriMo
• NEW: Write a blog post every week. Project 52.

With National Novel Writing Month, you basically sign up to say, “I’m going to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November.” And here’s the great part: It doesn’t matter if it’s good or not. It’s just about the writing. Of course, you can always edit it afterwards and maybe turn it into a best seller, but November is about getting words on paper.

Sorry I’m a little late mentioning this one, as it started yesterday, but you can still sign up. You’ll just have to write a few more words each day.

As to the original concept behind this post, commit, it’s a very simple tip. If you want to get better at writing, you have to write more. If you want your writing to get noticed, you have to write more. If you want more ideas, you have to write more. Commit to writing and writing will commit to you.

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If everyone on the planet stopped existing but you, but the world, in it’s current state, was left exactly the same, what would you do?

Well, the logical part of my brain has to look at this multiple ways:

• Electricity and running water would only be around for a couple of days, if that, as no one would be running the power plants. So generators and things like solar panels would be the only option for electricity. Bottled water would be the only option for drinking water.
• The world’s wealth would be at my disposal, however I don’t know how to fly a plane or sail a boat. So I’d be landlocked and stuck in the American continents.
• I have no outdoor survival skills, so I’d also have to make do in the cities. But since that is the only source of easily gotten food, that’s perfectly okay.
• With no other computers having electricity, all communications would be gone. No Internet. No phone. But of course, no people, so I guess that doesn’t matter.
• And another problem: I would have no idea that the world is empty. Can’t communicate to find it out.

But that’s my logical mind. My logical mind pales in comparison to my emotional one. I am human after all. So I’ll answer that part with a narrative:

I wake up to an empty bed. However, this is a normal occurrence, as my wife always gets up before I do. That’s how we get our time to ourselves. She goes to bed before I do and wakes up before I do. So we always have about two hours on our own. I pick up my phone to check my e-mail, a normal part of my routine, but there’s no signal.

“That’s odd. Will have to see if she gets a signal. If not, I’ll call customer service,” I think.

I plant my feet on the floor and stretch. My eyes slowly start focusing on the rest of the room. It’s quiet.

“The fan’s not on. Electricity must be out.”

I head to the bathroom. I walk out and head to the computer room where my wife should be. She’s not there.

“Hmmm. Must be outside. Oh, wait. Electricity is out. That explains it.”

I head outside with a smile on my face as I imagine my morning kiss. She’s not there. I look around. The van is not gone. I go back inside and head over to my daughter’s room. Maybe she’ll know where mommy is. She’s not there either. Her room is alone just as I am. I can’t call to find out where they are so I wait.

I wait some more. I grab a book and start reading.

An hour later they are still not here. I’m worried.

“If the van is not gone, where did they go?”

I get in the van and drive to my friend’s house. He’s always home at this time of the morning. The city feels alone. His house looks just as dead. No answer.

“Hmmm.”

I drive back home and look around. I notice that there are no cars or people around the road. I get more worried.

It’s a week later. I haven’t eaten. I can’t. The heartache is killing me. I’ve only drank some water I stole from Wal-Mart. Don’t know if it could be called stealing though. There’s no one here to complain.

It’s another week later. I’m sitting on the couch staring at the television. It’s off. But I’m yelling at it.

“What did you do with them?!”

God’s not answering.

It’s another week later. I’m sitting on the end of the bed.

“I’ve lost more weight.”

I smile at that thought and then pull the trigger.

Is that exactly how it will happen? I don’t know. Will I go crazy and kill myself? I don’t know. But it is a possibility. Lack of human companionship is deadly, no matter what material goods you have at your disposal.

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Then she was born.

Wait. I’m getting ahead of myself here. She wasn’t born instantly as we all know. She began as a mood in my wife. Guys with kids know that mood. It’s that swinging mood that punches us in the face or kisses us behind the ear. Then it was the craving mood. Ice cream and pickles? I hear people mention that one every once in a while. Sorry guys. It’s normally much weirder than that. I’m not going to describe the combination of food that my wife craved because if you’ve just eaten your food won’t stay in your stomach.

Finally, I got used to the moods. But the moods were easy compared to the days in the hospital. Those days when your wife is screaming as if the child is ripping through her very heart on the way out. She’s screaming in such a manner that you’d do anything to take the pain away. So then the other screaming starts. The screaming that comes form the husband to the nurses to get his wife some darn pain medication. Then there’s the scream of the husband as his hands get crushed by his wife. And finally, there’s the scream of the child.

It’s a beautiful sound. Or so I’m told. They took her in the delivery room while I was outside talking to my mother. “Oh, it’ll be another 20 minutes Mr. White.” “Ooops. Sorry. She was ready in 5.” Thank you very much Ms. Nurse.

But then I saw her. My daughter. And I fell in love for the second time in my life.

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I know. I’m spamming my own post with the word “topics.” No, I’m not trying to get rated highly in the Google search engines for the word “topics.” I’m just trying to make a point about “topics.”

I’m one of those people who can write just about anything as long as I have a topic. I can research topics if I don’t know anything about them. If I do know about them, I’ll write about them without as much research. Either way, they normally get written quickly. It’s just the way I am. But here’s my problem:

“Topics.”

I know. I used that word again. But to write about something, you must have a topic in mind. I can sit there and think for hours and never come up with a topic. So the rest of this post is dedicated to the top 5 ways I know of finding good topics.

1. Read. Read the news. Read other blogs. Let those topics start creating themselves in your brain as you look around. Don’t steal ideas of course. But feel free to use what you read as a jumping off point to start your own discussion. Here’s a few different things you can read for ideas:
   • Novels
   • Newspapers
   • News Websites
   • Blogs

   You get the idea.

2. Watch. Again. Feel free to watch movies and television shows and write what you think about them. Let them kick start your mind. Movie reviews are a great way to share your opinions. Maybe the nightly news sparked an idea for a topic.
3. Speak. Have a conversation with your friends. During that conversation, topics are bound to come up. Kind of hard to have a conversation without topics. Use those topics in your writing. Feel free to quote your friends.
4. Listen. Television and books aren’t the only media out there. Listen to your favorite radio shows. Even listening to music, especially lyrics, can help you come up with a topic.
5. Ask. This one is not as obvious, but it gives great results. For example, I asked at some forums for some topic ideas and got plenty. I’ve already written quite a few posts using those sources. Asking has got to be one of the best methods of coming up with topics I’ve ever used. Why? Because a lot of people already read your words. They have preferences of what they want to read from you. So let them tell you those preferences.

Ok. So you now have topics. Or do you? See, the important thing to do is get those ideas for topics on “paper.” Grab pen and paper, PDA, or handheld digital/tape recorder and start keeping track of all of those ideas. Then use them. No use in having topics to write about if you’re not going to write about them, right?

Hope this helps you guys who seem to get stuck with “writer’s block.” Don’t forget: Topics.

Do you have any other methods of finding topics that you use? Feel free to share in the comments. Would love to hear them. Even specific shows, newspapers, etc. would be great to list.

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The answer to this question depends on the context of the change. If we’re speaking of education, which I’m assuming we are, it also depends on the change itself. Not all changes are good. Not all changes are bad.

For example, the original concept of education in Colonial times was to teach the Bible, and that was about it. No science; no other history; nothing but the Bible. If that was the way education was still today, we wouldn’t have made the advances we’ve made. But even those advances can be separated into good and bad. Sure, the medical advances help save human lives. That’s great. However, warfare advances have helped destroy human lives; not so great. So was the change in education from the Colonial times good or bad or even necessary? It’s all very subjective.

And no change is truly necessary. It’s like the old saying goes, “Nothing is certain but death and taxes.” But to be honest, not even taxes are certain. There is nothing is this world that any one person must do except die and live until they die. That’s it. They have to suffer the consequences of their actions, but they may choose any action or “non-action” they wish. Same goes for change or the choice of change. But if we’re talking about consequences, the consequences of not changing from the Colonial period’s way of thinking about education would have meant less knowledge. Again, is that good or bad? We have Amish out here who would say it’s neither.

But in the pursuit of education, anything that changes the way we educate in a positive way is good and necessary, as long as the final goal is to educate our students as much as possible, which as teachers, that is our final goal. On the contrary, anything that changes the way we educate in a negative way is bad and necessary to avoid. But again, it’s very subjective.

For instance, No Child Left Behind is viewed by some as a bad thing as it has made teaching into a profession that focuses on preparing students for tests. But it’s good because it holds schools accountable for their educational systems. As I told my daughter today, decisions about anything (including change) should be made by weighing the pros and cons of those decisions and ranking them based on importance. For example:

NCLB

Pros:

Holds schools accountable – 9
Supposedly helps to provide equal funding for schools – 8

Cons:

Causes “teaching to the test” syndrome which is not a truly educational experience – 10
Doesn’t always keep it’s promises for funds – 8

9+8 = 17

10+8 = 18

The cons win in this example, but by a small margin, which means more qualities need to be discussed and weighed.

How can teachers positively impact change?

Embrace the positive and fight the negative. I was just telling my wife that if a decision is made that negatively impacts your ability to educate your students, something needs to be done. People need to be told about the problems. Parents need to be involved in the decisions.

However, if the change is positive, embrace it and don’t be scared about it. A recent change would be the introduction of technology. Many teachers, to this day, can’t stand using technology. But it is a change that has allowed education to be tripled in efficiency and with further improvements, that will increase. It is a positive change in the context of education. It is a necessary change in the same context.

So I’d say a teacher should embrace the positive changes. They should take PD courses to improve their knowledge of the new methods and technology available. The tools and methods available to teachers are constantly evolving, and just like other professional occupations, teachers need to evolve right along with them.

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I sat in a chair facing the open door to my house staring at our van parked in the driveway. Just three days before, I had been watching mechanics use their tools on the van. The impact wrenches sounded like they were jack hammering holes into my van. But this… this was different. This was five or six limbs laying on the top of my van. Not little limbs that would break off during a normal storm, but thick limbs from the trees that surrounded our house.

The sky was a scary shade of gray with very small amounts of natural light allowing me to see it. The power was off on our street, so no safe, secure artificial light to block the true horror of that sky. The rain was not falling nearly as much as I thought it would be. This was a hurricane. “Where’s the water?” I asked myself. It’s not like we needed it. The wind was a fear unto itself. Trees in the distance bent over as if to tie their shoes. I listened as one very large tree cracked across the street. I watched as it fell on the power line behind the house directly in my sight. The boom made my chair vibrate.

“So this is a hurricane?” I had always wanted to see one for myself. Guess it was my curiosity. But now, I never wanted to see one again. Another tree fell. The next thought was my daughter. She was in the top bunk of her bunk bed, close to the ceiling. I imagined a tree falling and going through our roof to hurt her. I got up out of my chair and rushed into the room to have her move into our bedroom with my wife. After she quickly fell back asleep, I headed back to the door. Katrina was calling me, wanting to show me her strength, wanting me to bow to her power. I couldn’t help myself. I obliged her every whim.

>BOOM<

Another tree had fallen. This one was much closer, but I couldn’t see where it fell. I raced to the back door to look out. There it was. A pine tree. It had been beaten by the angry woman and was lying still about two meters from the back of our house. It’s bark was being ripped away by the harsh winds. I could almost hear it scream as it was being skinned alive.

>BOOM<

This one didn’t land in the back yard. So again, I rushed to the other side of the house. Lying there in front, about the same distance as the one in the back, was another victim of the storm. This one was oak. The wind forced it to lift its shallow roots out of the ground. But it would live for a while longer. Its roots would not go thirsty because the rain began to fall harder.

(To Be Continued – Comments will make it come sooner than later)

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10. Staring at the ceiling and making pictures with the little dots. I found Charlie Brown a couple of days ago. However, he morphed into Arnold Schwarzenegger while looking at him, so that may have been the Nyquil. I don’t know.

9. Again, staring at something can be quite amusing. In this case I was staring at a digital frame. I had it loaded with pictures of the in-laws and pictures of farm animals. After a while the two started merging in my brain. Was rather hilarious to me.

8. Realizing you can sing much lower. Seriously, have you ever been sick and noticed your voice dropped an octave? Now you can do the Barry White solo with ease. Just don’t try in the shower ’cause the steam clears out your throat and you start sounding like a much younger Barry White. Kind of throws off the mood.

7. Reading is always a great way to pass the time when you’re sick. Of course, you might want to stay away from the fantasy and horror books. With the medicine and the delirium of a fever, you start imagining some of the stories coming true. Can be rather scary. This is one of those few times a guy is allowed to read a romance novel.

6. Write a book. Since you’re just laying there, you might as well make good use of the time. Write a book. Just realize that when you finally get well again you will not be able to read your handwriting. And if you use the “writing it in my head” method, also realize that your “sick” head and “well” head are two different things. Therefore, your “well” head won’t remember anything that your “sick” head did anyway.

5. Practice origami. I made some swans that could flap their wings, a frog that could really jump, and a boat that could really float. I also made some Chinese throwing stars and practiced throwing them at the ceiling. I even manged to hit Arnie right in the nose.

4. Silly Putty. Can’t say this enough. If you have a little plastic egg with some of this stuff in it, feel free to play with it for hours. It’s quite the stress reliever. And if you have some newspaper, you’re set. You’ll be copying comics all day and reading them backwards. Just don’t try and use it as a bouncy ball when you own a cat. It becomes fuzzy. And fuzzy Silly Putty is not a fun thing to play with at all.

3. Speaking of toys, my Rubik’s cube got plenty of use out of it. The stickers won’t stick to it anymore. So now it’s really easy to solve. All of the faces are black. Doesn’t matter how much I mix it up, it’s always solved.

2. Cell phones are fun. You can play games on them. You can make prank phone calls. However, it’s very hard to dial *67 before making a phone call with a cell phone. So prank phone calls don’t work as well when the person picks up and says “Hi Mike.”

1. The best way to amuse yourself when you’re sick as a dog is to build a play mountain out of the sheets and bed spread. Look around for items you can use as army men. Now just fill in the rest with your imagination. The really great thing is when your wife comes in and sees you playing like a little kid, she’ll only think you’re delirious from the medication and let you get away with it. Make sure to include plenty of >pyoo pyoo< noises when firing the imaginary guns. You won’t be able to do them any other time.

What do you like to do to keep yourself amused when you’re sick as a dog?

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To explain what I mean, I’ll go through a few “A real husband…” statements. I don’t know how many I’ll do, but hopefully you’ll get my point. In the comments, feel free to add more. So without further ado…

A real husband…

• … does not use his wife as a punching bag. And I mean this in every metaphorical way also. No hitting your wife. No screaming at your wife. No abuse of your wife in any way. It’s wrong. Pure and simple.
• … takes the headset out of his ear and listens to his wife instead. Phone conversations are a necessary part of today’s world. But communication in a marriage is extremely important.
• … buys feminine products at the drug store without whining about it. They also know which products to buy.
• … carries his wife’s purse when she needs him to.
• … holds his wife’s hair when she’s puking in the toilet. He also gets a wash cloth and wipes her face for her.
• … doesn’t complain about the money spent on a woman’s hair unless a) he actually notices the new hair and b) he learns to do it himself for her. If you’ve never done your wife’s hair, then you’ve never experienced a truly personal experience.
• … learns more about his wife than he knows about sports.
• … puts down the game controller and does the dishes and laundry every once in a while.
• … doesn’t get upset if his wife makes more money than he does.
• … compromises and shares with his wife.
• … trusts his wife and makes darn sure he is trustworthy. Without trust, there is no relationship.
• … actually thinks before buying a gift for his wife. May even do handmade gifts that have had tons of thought put into them.

Now, to be fair to the husbands who do these things, I have to say this:

A real wife does not get spoiled or take advantage of their husband when they do things like this for them.

So, does anyone have any others they’d like to add? Maybe the guys out there feel left out and want to do some “A real wife…” comments. Feel free to reply and add as many as you’d like.

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Recently, WordPress 2.8 came out. Almost immediately, there were over 100 posts, if not more, announcing the release. When a popular blogger ad service changed their pricing system, the same thing happened. Those little nuggets of news were the sugar cubes and the bloggers rushed all over it. It’s great that you want people to know these things. It really is. But, and I’ll try and ask this as nicely as possible, don’t you think the people who read your blog that actually care about that information… don’t you think… they already know?! Heck, I got that neat little yellow stripe in my WordPress dashboard telling me to update. My price changed dramatically and the blog and forums told me all about it.

You want to know which blogs I read every day? The ones with original content. The ones that make me laugh. The ones that make me have some form of emotions. The ones that tell me something I didn’t already know. If CNN already said it on their front page, it’s likely you don’t need to say it on yours.

Don’t get me wrong. When a celebrity dies and you want to pay tribute to them, that’s perfectly ok. If you want to do an opinion post on the latest headlines, I’ll be happy to read it. But if I see one more post that basically repeats what the news has been saying all day, I think I’ll… well… nothing too drastic… I’ll just stop reading that blog.

Now, see, snowflakes are awesome. Each and every one is different from all of the others in some way. That’s what you should be. In some small or big way, your posts need to be different than all the others. For example, if your blog is about WordPress and 2.8 has just launched, don’t tell me that it just launched, instead, tell me about the obscure new feature and the original way in which you managed to use it. Or another example, if the news announces that the world is about to be forced to go vegan, don’t tell me about the obvious stuff like food, tell me about the vegan shoes. That would be original, especially if you posted pictures of yourself standing on top of the bookshelf at the local library with a pair of them on.

Don’t be an ant. Be a snowflake… wearing vegan shoes and eating spaghetti with a spoon. Oh, and blogging about something original, which was the point of this post to begin with.

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Even today’s teenagers have to figure out whether they want to eat organic or not organic food. Or whether they should have regular beef or the torture free variety. As I recall, the beginning college years is when all of those choices become “important” to us. This brings us to my point. There are so many “yes” or “no” choices out there that people have really made it impossible to like each other:

• “Oh my. You were such a nice person but then I found out you don’t care if your beef is tortured or not.”
• “I love you. But you’re a Democrat. I can’t love a Democrat. Goodbye.”
• “You’re Southern Baptist. I’m Free Will Baptist. It just wouldn’t work.”
• “Your mom worked for the steel mill. I can’t stand feminists. We can’t be friends anymore.”
• “Wait. You’re from Texas!? I can’t be seen with you.”

“But Mike. Those are absurd. I’d never be like that.”

Really? Are you sure. Have you ever seen someone with a tattoo and immediately decided they were “bad news”? Or maybe someone with a Mohawk haircut walks by and you get freaked out? Or maybe you read my “taboo” post and decided you didn’t like me? These are only examples, but you should get the point.

The problem is people don’t have tolerance anymore. According to Merriam-Webster, a definition of “tolerance” is:

2 a: sympathy or indulgence for beliefs or practices differing from or conflicting with one’s own

What’s wrong with other people’s beliefs? Do they affect you? Is the fact that someone somewhere believes in reincarnation going to affect your own beliefs of what happens after you die? Tolerance is necessary to become an informed individual. I know. I know. I said there are things I wish I could unlearn. But that was a fib. I like knowing things. I think knowing things is important. How can you truly say that you don’t agree with someone else’s beliefs if you don’t even know or understand those beliefs? Isn’t it possible that your beliefs and theirs are more alike than you may think?

I’ll give a quick religious example:

1. The Hindu religion is based on reincarnation. A quick way of saying it is that if your soul has not learned everything it needs to learn it is sent back in another physical form to learn more. Once your soul is fully knowledgeable, it goes to live with God.
2. The Christian religions believe there is a hell that people who are non-believers go to when they die. Hell is a place of suffering. They also believe there is a Heaven where people who believe go when they die. There is no suffering there.

With those two concepts in mind, wouldn’t coming back to live on Earth be a form of suffering? And if you’re always a non-believer and never learn enough to believe, would you not suffer for eternity in a physical body on Earth? Couldn’t hell be what we experience in our physical bodies? And then when we believe, we go to Heaven?

I’m not expressing my own beliefs here. I’m playing the “what if” game. But there is a possibility that those things could be true. I think it scares people to think that their beliefs may be “wrong” and it makes them go nuts when someone challenges them. But, again, “what if” there’s no such thing as a right or wrong answer?

I’m not saying I’m right. What I am saying is I’m giving you something to think about. Have a mature debate with your friends about it. Listen to what they say. Listening is a really good skill to use to gain knowledge. Speaking of listening, the next time you see a tattooed guy with a Mohawk, try asking him what he believes. He may surprise you.

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1. The Level of Bias

So, here’s seven things you need to know about me before I start:

1. I’m Caucasian.
2. I was raised Baptist.
3. I’m male.
4. I was born in the United States.
5. I live in the United States.
6. I’m a Southerner.
7. I’m right handed.

Ok. So some of those might be a little obvious. But it’s important for you to know them. Or is it?

First, let me say, “Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist.” Avenue Q. Love ‘em. Here’s the song:

Now. Back to my philosophy. Let’s take that phrase just another step:

Everyone’s a little bit biased.

It is absolutely human nature to be biased towards some group they belong to. Humans like to belong to something and they normally protect that group fiercely. Religious wars are based on a bias towards a certain religion. Fights break out in the streets over a bias towards a certain race. People get beat up in back alleys because of a bias towards a sexual orientation.

Bias is natural. Bias is not a bad thing. It’s ok to be proud of your background or proud of a group you belong to. The problem with bias is when it becomes so forceful that anger and hate come into the picture. And that normally happens when people feel they are being treated differently than those in another group.

“What’s your point?”

My point is this: When you get into a debate about some topic such as racism or sexism and you’re claiming someone is being one of those, you really need to carefully consider the level of bias within the situation. When a bias is so strong that hatred rears it’s ugly head, then there are problems.

For instance, if a group of people who are in a guild together while playing World of Warcraft decide to all meet in Vegas to hang out, is it too biased of them not to invite others to do so too? However, if a group of people decide to go kill someone who is not the same religion as they are, are they being too biased? Has hatred entered the equation at this point?

So, before claiming racism, sexism, or some other bias, think logically about the situation. Did the other party/group truly mean to be hateful when they treated you differently than others in their group? If the answer is “no,” there is no argument needed. If the answer is “yes,” it’s time for something to be done.

• DO embrace your differences.
• DO realize that everyone holds different things to be dear to them.
• DO tolerate those differences and learn from them.
• DO understand that people will treat those who are within their groups differently than those who are not.
• However, DO NOT ever accept hatred as a treatment.

Oh. Here’s another part of this post where I completely break the rules of that meme, as I’m going to tell you an 8th thing about me:

I’m human. So are you.

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The way it works is first you need to have the basic number images memorized. You will always use the same images to represent those numbers. The reason why the images listed below were chosen is because they look like or represent the numbers really well. So make sure to have the first list in your mind to begin with. Once you have them, you have them for good. I haven’t used them much in the last few years, yet I was still able to easily recall them for this post.

Here are the images for the numbers:

1 – A candle. Have it burn whatever the item is.
2 – A swan. Have it biting the item.
3 – A sideways W. Have it act like a handle on the item.
4 – A sailboat. Have the item balancing on the mast
5 – A hand. Have it grabbing the item.
6 – Golf club. Hit the item with it.
7 – A garden hoe. Have it chopping the item.
8 – Two links of a chain. Have the item going into and out of the links over and over.
9 – A balloon on a stick. Have the item pop the balloon.
10 – A martini. Stir the martini with the item.

Now, in your mind, imagine those pictures for the numbers interacting with the items you’re trying to memorize. Here is an example list that you might try to memorize for this “lesson”:

1. Tire - The candle burns the tire. Could even mention the burning rubber.
2. A book - The swan has taken a bite out of the book and is chewing it.
3. Pencils - The W is attached to the side of the pencil. But now there’s more pencils. You now have a suitcase made of pencils.
4. A computer - The computer is plugged into a socket in the sky and is balancing on the mast. It falls over and shorts out in the water.
5. A mountain - Your hand is holding the mountain. You must be a giant.
6. A water melon - The golf club hits the melon and gets embedded into it. Now you could hit a soccer ball with that club.
7. Homework - Chop up those papers like you mean it!
8. Phone - The phone has sprouted legs and is running through the links of the chain.
9. A spoon - Actually it’s now a spork so it has pointy tips and you pop the balloon with it.
10. A broom - Must be a really large martini if it requires a broom to stir it.

Now close your eyes and try and list the items in your mind. You’ll find that you remember this entire list. Not only that, but if you get someone to call out random numbers, you should be able to tell them the specific item for that number. And finally, get them to call out about 5 or 6 items/numbers, and you’ll not only be able to tell them the item or number that goes with it, but also the items and numbers they did not call from the list.

Try coming up with your own lists. Give your brain time to “forget” between lists though or you’ll end up getting them confused. Oh, and for this to be useful, you might want to make up useful lists. Works great for short shopping lists.

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“The mind is a terrible thing to close.” – Saphrym

Yeah. I said that one. It’s a play on the old slogan of the mind is a terrible thing to waste. But it means that we should always keep an open mind. And that goes double or even triple for teachers.

“If you capture kids’ hearts, you have their heads. If you don’t capture their hearts, you have no business messing with their heads.” – Menville Flippen

Teaching is not just about spitting out information for students to learn. Teachers are role models whether we want to be or not. Students will come to us for advice. They will want us to understand them as people. If a teacher doesn’t want that part of teaching, they should probably pick a different career.

“Know your students.”

I have no idea who said that, but it is the foundation of teaching. How can you possibly provide the best education for a student without knowing about that student? Sure, a mediocre education can be provided to just about anyone, but the best education can only be provided when the teacher knows how to teach each individual student. That requires knowledge of the student.

Those are the 3 quotes I live my life and professional life by. Of course, I’ve recently added another one to that:

“Risk more than others think is safe. Care more than others think is wise. Dream more than others think is practical. Expect more than others think is possible.” – Claude Bissell

It may be a common cadet quote, but I think it fits the teacher profession quite well too. Don’t you?

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