obsession....

ok... so, if the last one wasn't your thing, how about this?

MONDIAL BCHR WITH BOHEMIAN GLASS NIB

This unusual pen is from Austria. The maker is Mondial, which was an Italian company. These
pens do not often pop up in the US, but in Europe they are not uncommon. The pen is fitted
with an original Bohemian glass nib of very high quality.





Spec Information:

• Mondial midsized fountain pen produced late 1920s- early 1930s
• Black Chased Hard Rubber, ripple pattern
• colour is perfectly black (10/10); very clean pen
• chasing is fairly worn, but evenly so
• lever fill
• fitted with a slip-on clip
• clip and lever are nickel-plated (silver-colour)
• no brassing on metal parts; very clean
• Bohemian glass nib, original, c 1920s-30s, actually made in Bohemia, amber colour
• nib is a F/M point
• pen is fully restored and glass nib is smoothed

photos by QM2

Lust....

it's in my heart. and it has been since i first saw her. and not a day has gone by over the past year that i haven't thought of her. and today, i plan on taking her for a test drive, and if she makes me happy, i'll be putting down cold hard cash. if she doesn't make me happy, i'll spurn her forever - i have my eye on another....






so, i guess the real questions are.....

• does one need a $550+ pen? no, but one wants his precious.....
• $550? Seriously? yup... handmade with loving care. And that's not actually expensive.... a friend of mine bought a Visconti Art Nouveau at $900. The store carries pens up to $3,500 (actually I think they have a couple of $5k-6k pens). I've seen collector pens going at $12,000 USD.
  
• does a pen like this actually write better? actually, yes.... it's supposed to be an amazing nib. Part of the price of more expensive pens is materials and gold nibs.
  
• are you fucking crazy? ummmmm........ what was the question again?
  

it's on sale for quite a bit less or i wouldn't even consider it. the only problem is.... it's only available in yellow. although the colour sort of appeals to me.


And in case you're wondering about the slightly odd looking pen clip.... each side rotates out, creating a little set of legs that turns it into a stand.


i'll let you know how it goes.....



images from: http://www.nibs.com/OmasEmotica.htm except for the last one, which was borrowed from the Pen Boutique Ltd.

going postal....

wow... i thought the price of gas was bad. i just went to mail a small package (size 1 padded envelope, about 4"x8"x1/2"). i was given 2 prices:

standard mail: $ 3.75
express mail: $ 51.32

i had to have her repeat the second price, as she was trying not to laugh as she said it. makes me wonder, is it hand delivered by someone that looks like this* if you pick option 2?





i mention it only because the difference was so vast i was completely stunned by it. as you can imagine, i sent it regular post. i don't need it delivered in 5-8 business days.... 3-6 weeks suits me just fine, as it rarely ever takes that long between major cities.

heck, even regular mail to a friend in a tiny little town in mexico only takes 4 weeks.

*sorry grant, that was as close to a Jbunny as i could find for this post.

today's post brought to you by.....

and now a word from our sponsor....

circumlocution
\sir-kuhm-loh-KYOO-shuhn\, noun:

The use of many words to express an idea that might be expressed by few; indirect or roundabout language.


Circumlocution comes from Latin circumlocutio, circumlocution-, from circum, "around" + loquor, loqui, "to speak."

oh lord....

[rant]*

god help me. or maybe that should be god help my family and friends.

for most of my life, i have always tried to do the right thing - especially with other people. this often means i have ignored what i wanted. or needed. but to be honest, mostly wanted.

this means i've been a "good person". a gentleman. i won't say a prince, or a king, or a dupe. but i've never taken advantage of a situation, or especially of a person at a time when they were vulnerable.

i'm not a saint. but i do try and listen. to turn the other cheek. to be gentle. supportive. nurturing. an approach many people do not.

i don't believe the grand gesture resolves everything when you have missed all the small things that are really important. i don't believe i should have to ask you for something you borrowed. i don't think i should have to nag about something if you made the offer.

so.... i'm starting to call a spade a spade.

you made an offer with strings. my reply? no thanks, i don't do offers with strings - that's not an offer. you backpedaled. ok, i feel a little guilty that i probably hurt your feelings when you meant well - but that often makes it worse because it shows just how thoughtless you are.

you say something like "I guess what I am seeking most of all is your accepting the situation and getting on with our lives". my reply? get over yourself - it's obvious after 10 years you are the only one who can't let go.....

empowering? hell yah.

good? errr.... probably not..... but for now, i'm flinging some shit back - because frankly i'm tired of your expectations that i'll shovel it for you, or just put up with it.

i love you all, but at some point you can just kiss my ass.

[/rant]

* not directed at any of my readers, as i a) have better communication with any of you than my own family, and b) have none

eula....

Anyone else think that some of the terms of the end-user license agreement on some of the "free" services out there are getting ridiculous?

"...shall exclusively own all now known or hereafter existing rights to the Submissions of every kind and nature throughout the universe and shall be entitled to unrestricted use of the Submissions for any purpose whatsoever, commercial or otherwise, without compensation to the provider of the Submissions."

Not to mention the data tracking, albeit anonymous.... there's a boatload of money in that. Don't let them fool you.

And no, that's not Facebook.... it's MyWebSearch toolbar, who has an eula that refers to separate eula's for services provided by other vendors that are integrated into the toolbar.

At least Google is fairly up front about trying to control the world's data - for good. I think they mean for the responsible use and freedom of access, but their wording makes me think they want full control, forever.

Just a random Saturday morning thought.

the glory and the wonder of it.....

so, i went to the store yesterday and parked in front of an office. it was a dentists office. and i noticed the name of one of the doctors on the door. being 6" high lettering, it was awfully hard to miss.

it was dr. pecek.

i wondered two things:

1. what nationality is that?
2. surely, with "Dr." in front of it, no matter what the nationality, it must be pronounced paycheque (that would be paycheck for the rest of you.)
   

2008.....

a new year! and what has changed? well.... here's a sampling from this year's e-mail. yes, including the image:

• pen!s
• love weapon
• erectile (tissue or dysfunction, take your pick)
  
• dik
• big schlongs
• s'e_xual
• huge rod
• willy
• stick
• sensual delights
• "wee-wee"
• trouser mouse
• massive rod (obviously not to be confused with huge rod)
  
• a penis the size of an elephant (i can only assume they mean a penis the same size as an elephants.....)
• phallus
• pen!s enlargement (ironically not used in conjunction with huge rod, or massive rod)
• get laidddd with viiiggara
• diminutive stick
• gigantic schlongs!
• horse
• hotties
• big rod (apparently for those who are willing to settle)
• "maximize the volume of your willy"
• dick
  

we're off to the start of a banner year. ah yes, technology. what would i do without you in my life........ but i don't feel bad. i have several women friends who apparently have trouble with their penis size as well.

merry christmas....

and the best of the season to you, and yours.


well, another christmas has arrived, and i find myself once again undecided. christmas and i don't have a great track record.... they've included several deaths in the family, being left, and being close to death sick. i find myself a little melancholy for those reasons.

and up until that point, i am fine. but then come the politics of family christmas.... who is hosting this year? what do you mean you're doing christmas there this year!? what is the limit for gifts? when are you coming over here? why not?! things have gotten easier with one of the divorced parents moving out of country - one less house to make it to is that less stressful. if you can imagine, one year we made it to 3 major 'dinners' the same day, plus another 3 places over the two days after.

with our own family now... we are in a better position to define our schedule and start new traditions. for one... only one family house visit in a day. as for the others? well... christmas morning is ours alone now.

christmas eve? not sure if it's a new tradition, but tonight will be sushi and salad rolls. my snack at the moment is crispy anchovy. i don't think it will be a regular christmas eve tradition... but it's good for now.

a wonderful christmas and the best of the holidays to you all.

immigrant? or native?

my son is a technology native. 3 years old. has his own computer; and can start it, log in, load his favourite game or website, and shut the system down (correctly). he also enjoys a wide range of dvd's and movies. (we have no cable, so are thankfully disney channel and treehouse free.... plus skip most of the general advertising.)

he also plays with play dough, and other assorted items like kids from time immemorial. including..... magnetic letters on the fridge.

now what's different isn't that he has the old fashioned magnetic letters (2 sets of 72), and the leapfrog phonics set of single letters, 3 letter words, and the lowercase letters - it's the message.....

www.sonywonder.com or www.disneydvdgameworld.com

here are some other samples.... unassisted samples just to clarify.....




actually.... what scares me is that i'm afraid i won't be able to keep up.

----------------------

on the off chance anyone is wondering what brought on the whole immigrant/native topic, here is the background:

a while ago, a friend of mine posted an entry about technology, and how agency executives are digital immigrants instead of natives.

"natives have never seen a world without the digital. they use it “natively.” if you grew up pre-CD, pre-mouse, pre-cell phone etc., you’re an immigrant."

it sort of riled me up a bit.... and i made the following comment:

what amuses me, is that the digital natives become helpless without the digital immigrants. those (meaning the vast majority of natives) who use technology and take it for granted, are dumbfounded and adrift when it doesn’t work. they also have no second thoughts about putting massive amounts of personal information freely on-line in social networks.

the backbone of the system - those who concern themselves with operations, keeping things running, fixing that which is broken, and security are largely immigrants (at least those I know.)

it’s always amused me, that while I’m considered a “dinosaur” because I am of the “e-mail” generation (nay, I preceed even that) i am the one who is repairing the technology they broke.

i suddenly feel like playing the immigrant song at top volume from my iPod now.

i still stand by that, but have realized it's not completely true... i know many kids in the new generation are able to understand and fix technology. of course, all the ones i know are the children of parents who are technology immigrants and work in information technology.... who else teaches their 12 year old how to set up *nix networks, and would consider starting to teach their 6 year old SQL and Oracle?

game, set, match.....

There is no light at the end of the tunnel,
Only a pack of matches handed down
From one generation to the next.
Humanity does not have a long fuse
And this generation holds the last match.

JonArno Lawson
Bad news, in The Noon Whistle, 1996

limbo.....

ok.... so while not yet dancing for joy, we've come a little closer. here's the story so far....

having become totally fed up with my job, and at the suggestion of several friends, co-workers, and my better half, i began to seriously consider seeking employment elsewhere. one final straw led me from considering it, to actively looking at optional opportunities on-line.

i opted to see if i could demote myself, as it looked like a position of interest was about to become available. so being unable to resist a dramatic moment, at the end of the day i handed my immediate supervisor a sealed envelope, and parted with the works "we have to talk tomorrow" and watched as they went pale. a short discussion ensued. the request was not a big surprise, and it looked like there were going to be some options.

fast forward to today. today, i had an interview. it was mostly an informal discussion about the transition. the available spot isn't in the area i thought it would be, but may be moved or altered. either one is acceptable. there will be a period of continuing to act in existing capacity, followed by a period of transition while i bring the new sucker up to speed, followed by a period where we determine what my job will actually be. i get to keep the same level of pay, and get to avoid another six month probationary period.

so where does this leave me? in limbo..... in order to advertise the position i am vacating, i have to officially resign. to finish off the application, resume, interview requirements i had to submit my references so they can wrap things up and offer me the position. i also had to submit my letter of resignation.

so as it stands, i have officially resigned, but not officially received an offer. ironically, i've been here before.

i figure in the end, no matter how it turns out, it will be better than continuing as it was. at the worst, i have to find another job - in a city where there is a severe shortage of qualified people. but i'm sure things will work out. they always seem to, no matter what.

the person revealed....

i've been somewhat lost for a while. turns out as i randomly hit old journal entries that it has been more than a while. i've been lost pretty much forever.

what makes me tick? here's an old entry. verbatim.

July 10, 2001

gilbert

colton james morris

07.02.91 - 12.17.91

sec J blk 38

ten years. so hard to believe, that it's been 10 years already. so much time has passed, yet here i am still searching for myself. still lost. frustrated, unsure, frightened. what have i accomplished? or changed?

i sit here, in this melancholy place, and feel the presence of grief and sadness filter through the stillness. light wind blows through, breeze rustling the grass and the toy wind catchers. this section, reserved for newborns and small children is almost heart wrenching.

and what do i feel? a little sadness, but no one should be forced to live with such overwhelming disabilities. melancholy? a touch, for he was the son i never really knew. what i do feel, is a sense of grief for the tragedy, and a sense of irony.

and perhaps it is the feelings, the other feelings i harbour in relation to this event that are the ones that don't allow me to get beyond this point.

i have a sense of guilt for feeling them. for they are the ones others dictate i should not feel. anger. betrayed. frustration. rage. but why should they not have a place? they would had the child lived.

anger at myself, for letting myself be manipulated, for not making a stand as i should have. that was my worst mistake. not fighting for my own rights.

anger over my treatment. someone else deciding i should have the right to know, and then deciding i was no longer allowed to visit my own child. frustration that the rest of my family was allowed, but i was being manipulated out of revenge and pettiness.

rage for being told to stay away from the funeral. rage at myself for doing it.

and now? perhaps it was better, not knowing him well. closure? i think finally come when i last saw misty, and met her two kids. that was when i realized she had never moved on, never changed as a person. that she owned the problems, not i.

the judgements made over my actions coloured, overshadowed by their prejudices.

my guilt lay, lies still, in not standing up for myself. i know, but somehow have not yet learned fully, that the cost is infinitely higher than the consequences of taking a stand could ever be.

perhaps, that is what this lesson was all about. to finally come to terms with the fact that i do have the right. that i need to take a stand. and that i don't own anyone's problems unless i choose to. and that it's ok to choose not to.

after 10 years, perhaps i have finally brought this to a close. i feel a sense of peace about it now, and a sense of pity. the feeling of anger over it has lifted. and now, there is a little sadness, a little tragedy, and a sense of finality and closure.

it's not something i believe can ever be forgotten. nor should it. but i think it will now stop haunting.

happy 10^th birthday colton. i am sorry life was so short and painful for you. forgiving myself will bring us both a better measure of peace. you will not be forgotten.

two totally unrelated things....

barney.

oh. my. god. (in the voice and style of janice on friends.) that is some kind of awful. i have just had my first experience with an episode of the big purple dinosaur. it explains why they are now extinct.

besides, i don't trust the bastard. he never blinks. although he obviously has earned enough pimping in hollywood to have his teeth capped.

a vision of wonder

imagine that perfect arc. as it rises, in a perfect parabolic curve. glinting and flashing in the sun as it reaches it's apogee, and then begins to descend, 9.8 metres squared, accelerating toward the ground and culminating in an explosion. an eruption of glass, plastic and electronic parts. the blackberry lies in fragments, in a crater of its own creation.

this perfect vision brought to you by the average day at work.

imagine: dealing with management. trying to explain "why". the cost of replacing said blackberry.

this perfect moment in time, ruined.

the problems in my head....

no... no voices. at least not yet. i've been in sort of a weird head-space lately. i guess that should be readily apparent by my asking okami to marry me - even though it was intended to be humourous, a joke, not only was it in poor taste - but there is something just so inherently and fundamentally wrong and odd about it that it is not only not funny, it's not funny.

i'm sitting here listening to iris by the goo goo dolls over and over and over as i type this.

i knocked some stuff under my desk over, and went to clean up the spill of paper - this is the area i keep my shoebox(es) in.... you know - shoebox. the spot where you keep odd scraps of memory. i opened them and sifted through a couple of items.

• 1990 concert ticket stubs for Depeche Mode - Violator.
• 1994 contert ticket stubs for the Eagles - When Hell Freezes Over tour.
  
• Ticket Stubs form the San Franciso Alcatraz tour a couple years ago.
• A couple pennies that were an in joke between an instructor and myself (my 2c worth. the 2 i have are American pennies as he was from chicago - his are Canadian of course.)
• An empty frame that used to contain a cherry stem tied in a knot. (since you must know, a friend of mine years ago - back in my college days, ate the cherry and tied the stem into a knot using only her tongue before taking it back out of her mouth and handing it to me. I've lost the stem, but the frame still puts a smile on my face.
  
• old cards from Christmases, graduation, and birthdays.
• old letters - Love letters, LOVE letters, fight letters, make-up letters, letters of discussion. Man I used to date a psycho bitch - I guess when someone's nickname for you is "My Little Boy" that should be a pretty good indication there's a problem, eh? (Can you top that one Joe?)

shit. my state of mind is out of joint enough that i'm capitalizing. and i'm too tired and lazy to fix it - fuck the stylistic at the moment.

I ran across two things - one was a scrap of something I had written - the other is a quote that i prefaced a journal with. they seem to fit my mood at the moment - so here they are.

I. I the Creator.
Holding in my head.
My hands. My words.
Untold worlds of limitless possibility.
Infinities of probability and choice.
In the beginning was.
My own image.
Or shall i be something new and untried.
How shall I begin.
And Where.

- messiah

"And this journal will be destroyed... must be destroyed. It is a poet's place to lay bare thoughts that others must deny even having, but poetry is dead and I soon will be and I refuse to leave these thoughts where prying eyes will find them. And yet I must write about it all or go mad."

- Dan Simmons
The Great Lover

ok.... i take that back - on second thought, they don't really fit my mood much. to be honest, i'm not really sure just what my mood is right now.

i think it may no longer be an option not to take some time for reflection. pondering. retrospection.

and maybe to burn some of those old, poisonous letters that i am no longer sure why i've held on to for 15 years.

goo goo dolls....

And I'd give up forever to touch you
Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything seems like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know your alive

And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am

goo goo dolls
iris
from the album dizzy up the girl

awareness.....

awareness. or perhaps more accurately a lack of aforementioned awareness. i begin to wonder if this is a root. the root. primary cause. the great mover and shaker of my life.

at one point in my now sad and trivial existence, things were not always so. i think the change came when i sold my soul. shelved freedom. creativity. challenges. and accepted in it's place the tedious drudgery that entails the provision of "the steady paycheque." i have traded one type of prison for a prison that is even worse.

they don't call it the grind for nothing.

at some point after trading creativity and freedom for a steady paycheque i started focusing on the wrong things. or perhaps this trade was the point of no return - for it seems to me now, although not at the time it occurred, that to trade one's soul in such a way is an indication that one has already focussed on the wrong things.

surely there must be a way to conquer the north american expectation. demand. design. that one lives to work. surely there must be a way to right the wrongs and restore the balance. to bring oneself back from the precipice. to work to live.

nay. not only to work to live. but to have a life. an understanding. a definition. and a harmony with that life.

ultimately this requires being in touch with yourself. knowing yourself. being comfortable with yourself. accepting yourself.

time. time and awareness.


----
Photo from: http://blog.7inspirations.com/author/phil/
Photo based on the original Creative Commons work “DSC09508.JPG” by net_efekt (license info..)

haunted....

i find myself haunted. haunted by the funeral of someone i didn't know.

my brother-in-law's brother passed away last friday. although he and my sister have been together for many years, i don't believe i've ever met his brother. came close once, but something came up and he didn't make it to the family holiday dinner that round. from what i've heard, he was an extremely interesting man, and would have been someone to meet.

he had just turned 20.

but that's not what haunts me.

it was a jewish burial ceremony (yizkor). complicated because of the timing coinciding with passover. a simple coffin (not the one pictured above.) a large gathering of family and friends. recitation of the 23rd psalm in hebrew and english, recitation of the 1st psalm in hebrew and english, some words from the rabbi, remembrances by two friends, and then by the immediate family (sister, mother, brother). after this the 'community' who had gathered to mourn was asked to follow behind the casket on foot to the burial location.

the grave, is filled. by hand. as part of the ceremony.

unlike all of the nice detached christian based funerals i've gone too where the man of god says a few words, you symbolically scatter a small handful of dirt on the coffin, and everyone goes away while they typically lower and fill the grave afterwards. or at least variations on this.

not so here.

and just to add some perspective, other than the rabbi and the immediate family (3 people) - the rest of the approximately 130 attendees were gentiles.

6 shovels. the community of mourners is requested to help fill the grave. the shovels are not passed from hand to hand, but layed down and picked up again. the coffin was lowered. the mourners proceeded to shovel. about 1/3 of the mourners appeared to be too freaked out to participate. several were close friends, and became extremely involved in the process.

i stepped up and did my part. and it stays with you. physically being involved with the actual burial is something i've never experienced before. it has a finality that is unshakable. perhaps it is part of the mourning and grieving process - a catharsis of sorts. but it continues to haunt me. even now, several weeks after.

after the grave was filled, another psalm was recited, and due to the fact that it was the passover season, no funerary prayers were said. everyone was then free to depart. everyone gathered, visited, expressed condolences, and departed.

but i'm sure everyone that was there, has left touched and changed.

knowledge is power....

having knowledge of something, does not necessarily give you power over it.

root of all evil....

they say all it takes is money. too bad i don't have any.