If you read my early piece or had the conversation with me, you already know my conceptual feelings on robots, in general.  That is to say, when I think about the concept of robots and the sci-fi future possibilities, you get what I wrote in my earlier piece.  The reality of robots, though, it fascinates me.  I really enjoy watching the progression and I think it's incredibly cool some of the things they can make robots do these days.

So without thought of the future, I bring you Wired Magazine's The 50 Best Robots Ever.  I'm not going to bring you the whole thing (which, to me, is rather anti-climactic), but I found these kind of obscure, but fascinating historical moments.

I've read about him before:

33. THE TURK
Step right up and marvel at the mechanical device that can beat you in chess. Not impressed? You would be if it were 1769. The contraption was a hoax (inventor Wolfgang von Kempelen stashed a human chess master inside), but it sparked early debates over what it means for a machine to think.

This just cracked me up:

29. VAUCANSON'S DUCK
Back in 1739, Jacques de Vaucanson wanted to create artificial life. He settled for a mechanical duck that pooped. The machine used a weight system to quack, flap its wings, drink water, and eat grain, which it would digest mechanically and expel through an opening in its backside.

Leave it to da Vinci to create the first robot:

07. THE MECHANICAL KNIGHT
Way back in 1495, Leonardo da Vinci designed what was probably the first robot - an automated suit of armor with a windup crank. It could sit up, wave its hands, and maybe even talk. Five hundred years later, engineer Mark Rosheim used the master's schematics to build a working miniaturized version.

Those are the ones that really struck me as unique, but I also really enjoyed seeing the pop culture listings on there.  I think this is one article that's better in print, though, because each entry has a picture attached to it, instead of having to go look them up separately.

Now I want to see a list of the top 50 (or 100) most influential robots of all time.  That would be cool.

~FG };^>

Day one was a roller coaster.  Emotion after emotion until I was done.  This was the part where I tried to get as much information as I could and put together the reasonings.  I think I know as much as I'm going to about that.

There's nothing I can do about it, and I didn't lose my job for anything that I did or didn't do.  I just happened to be the one in the place to be affected by it.  Not that that makes it any better, but there is certainly some measure of comfort in knowing that things were wholly out of my control.

So we move on.  This gives me the opportunity to take care of things that were maybe falling by the wayside.  My house is going to be spotless, I'll actually have the time to focus on my guitar again.  I can get all the CDs packaged up and shipped out to those who I don't get to hand a copy to.  My cats will welcome the attention and, who knows, maybe I'll start walking the Spawn home from school again.

One phone call I made left me pretty hopeful.  I can't count on anything for a while, but it was nice to hear that someone who can help, someone who is highly respected by people _I_ respect, thinks that he can probably get me working again by the end of January.

In the meantime, I will paint, which interestingly enough is something that comes up every single time I lose a job.  My mom calls and says "I have a painting job, want to help?"  I always do, too.  I love to paint.  There's something very Zen and therapeutic about it.  And it's always progress you can see - you can measure it as you go.

I guess as long as I can keep myself busy, the waiting period should fly right by.  I'm not overly worried about the money...  I'll be ok, as long as I'm working relatively soon, it's more about keeping occupied and making myself leave the house. 

All things happen for a reason.  Usually that reason doesn't become clear until the trial is over and you can look at it from the outside.  I'm ok with not knowing the reason *right now*, but I am looking forward to seeing what this new situation is going to bring.

~FG };^>

"You don't work here anymore.  Go home."

So, yeah...

Everyone knows someone like this.  People who just don't get sick.  And, for the most part, everyone hates them.  lol

They are called liars sometimes because everyone gets sick sometimes.  But it's true, there are some people who, for the most part, just do not get sick.  The viruses make their rounds...  the entire office gets the flu except for those couple of people who simply do not get sick.

Except when they do.

And that's the real problem, right there.  Because everyone gets sick from time to time, even the people who generally don't.

I am one of those "I don't get sick" people.  So is my brother and, as I learned last week, my step-brother.  We were discussing how hard it is because on those rare occasions, it just knocks us the fuck out.  We just don't know how to handle it.  It's like people who don't get hangovers...  when they get their first one, they think they're dying, they don't know what is going on.  There's no basis for understanding.

When people who don't get sick, do, it's probably no worse than it is, physically, for people who are accustomed to being sick, but on a mental/emotional level it's really difficult.  An abnormally healthy body cannot comprehend the idea of taking it easy or not exerting itself.  How can I not eat [fill in favorite food]?  I never had a problem with *oops...  run to bathroom*.

I usually get sick maybe once a year, sometimes twice.  I forget, too, every time, how horrible the overall feeling is, and when I get sick it knocks me out.  I have no concept of taking it easy for however long after I start to feel better, so it lingers.  This whole thing started on Wednesday morning.  Friday I was back at work.  Friday night I was back in bed, miserable.  Sunday I felt GREAT, everyone who saw me sick said I looked worlds better...  Sunday night I was back where I was on Friday night/Saturday morning.  (I spare you the graphic details.  Thank me later.)

Conceptually, I understand this whole sick/healthy thing, but in practice it doesn't make sense.  When my body wants to get up and go again, why doesn't that work out?  Shouldn't this have already run it's course?

This whole thing sucks.  I don't understand it, I just want it to go away.  You see, it all comes down to one single factor that doesn't seem to apply in this situation.

I don't get sick.  This isn't supposed to happen to *me*.

~FG };^/

Which is part of why, I suppose, I tend to prefer lowered expectations over heightened ones.  I wasn't looking forward to today much at all...  partly because I was sick and miserable. 

I had a really nice day.  I had a really nice time.  I had a really nice dinner.  I'm not sick anymore.

I feel like I scored a minor victory for a battle I had decided not to fight.  The Spawn was so well-behaved that it was commented upon by everyone, and in a happily surprised way.  It was calm and relaxed and together and there was no tension.  The Child of Chaos was a joy to be around - the entire time.

It was a nice day.  It's going to be a nice night.  I expected less, but I couldn't have asked for more.

~FG };^>

It's almost over.  Thank gods it's almost over!  The final round - round three - will begin tomorrow morning/afternoon as we journey to the extended branch of the family tree.  I'm not looking forward to this.

First off, I've been really sick for the past 4 days.  I thought I was better and went into work on Friday, but 4am Saturday served to explain to me that I was not, in fact, all right.  I've been battling a fever and chills on and off and seem to be ok with minty teas, ginger ale and dry anything (saltines, unbuttered popcorn, that sort of thing).  Not that you really want to know about this, but I'm keeping it as far from graphic as I can.

I'm very disappointed.  I bought three six packs of winter-themed beer specifically for the holiday week.  I bought the Winter Solstice Seasonal Ale specifically to enjoy on Solstice, but the sheer amount of alcohol (me, with the mead, Dragonmaker with the wines) meant that I took home the six-pack untouched.  Having gotten sick right after means I haven't even touched the stuff.  Although, I did take a small sip off my dad's this evening (way to feel like a little kid again) and this is certainly going to be a review-worthy beer as far as I can tell.

The shopping is all done.  The Spawn has been read the riot act about *not* revisiting the behaviors of the past several holidays (not just Christmas, I'm talking birthdays, Thanksgivings, you name it), I have a flask which I may just risk filling with Bailey's to spike my coffee and take the edge off.  Can you tell I'm not really looking forward to any of this?

I just want it all over.  Christmas isn't really my thing, anyway and the real celebrations within my immediate family is already over.  I just want to curl up in a blanket and sip hot tea and munch on my crackers while I'm sick.  I don't want to play nice and make merry when I'd rather just be home, wallowing.

New Year's, though...  now that's my kind of celebration.  That's my kind of holiday.  I can't wait for that one.  All things considered, I don't mind being sick now if it means I can party all night next week.  I still have to make good plans for this year...  but first I have to get better.

Christmas isn't really helping the whole healing process.

~FG };^>

No, it's not a joke, but it should be, right?  Maybe it is and I'm just waiting on the punchline.  I've been waiting for a while, though.  I always found it funny when we would have Girl's Nights Out several years ago and that would be our group of girls, walking into a bar.  Rarely did the conversations (in the bars) center around religion, but sometimes, the conversations outside of the bars would.

I find myself thinking back to Princess (Jewish) and Jizzie (Catholic) getting into HEATED debates in email threads cc'd to me and Moonstone (both Pagans).  It was usually up to the two of us Pagans to run interference and calm things down.  Most especially when The Passion of the Christ was (about to be) released.  Factor in the Jew as a Yankees fan and the Catholic as a Red Sox fan and you can see how the fun would ensue.

All kidding aside, it always struck me that we should have a punchline, the four of us...  or even any combination of three, but we never got a good one, at least not in our adventures together.  Honestly, the heated debates were few and far between, since, for the most part, there wasn't much to argue about.  We all respected each others beliefs, even if we didn't understand them.

Every year I wish Princess a Happy Hanukkah, and she wishes me a Happy Solstice.  Moonstone gets a Happy Yule and Jizzie gets a Merry Christmas.  The words, you see, simply do not matter, at least they never did to us.  Not that we're the group we once were, with people going their separate ways and all, but it's a lesson that I hope my son will take with him as he grows.

It doesn't matter what you celebrate, it doesn't matter what you call it, it's all a time for love and family, for celebration of life and one more year past.  If there are religious connotations as well, there's nothing wrong with that, it's a time for celebrating personal joys, regardless of how they are categorized.

So a Jew, a Catholic and two Pagans walk into a bar.  Is there a punchline?  Does there have to be?

~FG };^>

Today is the shortest day of the year.  Since June the days have been getting shorter and shorter, most noticeably since September/October.  From here on out, the days will get longer and the nights shorter.  Winter has begun.

My family celebrates the return of the sun.  We celebrate the lessening darkness as the days become longer, and believe me, I cannot wait for the sun to become a little more visible, overall.

A lot of people ask me to define my beliefs for them, especially around this time of year.  I have stopped doing that because I've been berated far too many times.  Innumerable people have told me that I'm going to Hell because I choose to believe things that they simply don't understand.  I don't discuss my religion with very many people anymore.

So you want to know what we do?  You want to know what we believe?  It's not much different from the traditional Christian beliefs, many of which were initially borrowed from the pagans in order to strengthen early Christianity.  These days people accept the traditions of Christmas and often embrace them whether they actually believe in the religion of their youth or not.  My family tries to reclaim the pagan celebrations.

Feasting, gift exchange, candles and lights to entice the return of the sun - these are all pieces of the festivities.  We don't subscribe to Santa Claus or reindeer or any of that.  Saints are not so much a part of our celebration.  We sing and play music and play games and spend our time together.  There's no bloody rituals, there's no dancing naked in the snow, we are not much different from those who celebrate Christmas, but none of us can bring ourselves to celebrate a holiday for a God we do not worship.

We did our research.  We found the roots.  What appears to some to only be, several days early, a "stolen" Christmas celebration, is actually on time, a reclaimed one.  One that history has pushed aside, one that has gotten me into more theological and historical arguments than I could possibly count.

So I spend Solstice day wrapped in a blanket, alternating a fever and chills, hoping that I'll be able to eat (and keep down) whatever dinner I make for the kid.  I don't think much about the difference between what I do and what others do.  We all celebrate in our own way.  At the root of it all, aren't we all just celebrating love and family and togetherness?  Taking joy in our happiness and being together, making sure that everyone we love knows that we love them?

That's what I think, anyway.  It shouldn't matter what holiday you choose or even the reasons that you choose it.  It all comes back to the same sentiment at about the same time of year.

Whatever happened to Peace on Earth and Goodwill Toward Man, anyway?  It seems like the holidays just make everyone angry these days.  There's too much to fight about, whether it's religion or semantics or what side dishes are being served.  I'm not angry, I'm just sick.  I'm not going to be angry about this stuff this year, I just want them to end so we can move on into the next year...  I'm not feeling very holiday-ish this year...

~FG };^>

I think that the children of the 60's got it a little bit wrong.  Well, maybe that's a harsh statement.  I think they got it right, but somewhere along the line, the signals got crossed and the idea of Free Love and even "Make Love, Not War" became entwined with the also-occurring sexual revolution.  But the original idea was there...  at least for a little while.

Free love isn't about fucking anyone who expresses interest or desire.  It's not "free sex", it's a concept of allowing yourself the freedom to love people fully, without having the romantic attachments involved.  It's a brotherly or sisterly love, a platonic love that lasts forever... no matter what you do or say, no matter how long you stay in the other person's life, when you love, it is forever.

For as long as I can remember, I've preferred the company of boys to girls.  What this has often meant is that my close male friends think that they've fallen in love with me.  I've broken more hearts than I care to count, but I think there's a reason for that.  It can be hard to distinguish between loving someone and being in love with that same someone.  I've seen it happen where my relationship with a close male friend has needed to be redefined by an outside party to relieve us of the sexual tension.  Once that happens, though, the whole relationship can move to a different level - one where we can acknowledge the fact that we do love each other, but without the complications of wondering if there's that "in love" quality.

I believe that being in love means that when you look in the other person's eyes, you see yourself reflected in the very best light.  Not reflected from within you, but from either the way the other person sees you or, at the very least, how you *want* them to see you.  Being in love is far too often confused with simple infatuation.  I think that we often convince ourselves that we're in love with people we're merely infatuated with because the concept of love and being in love has been so heavily romanticized that it's craved, sought after and pursued, which really defeats the purpose.  To butcher something poignant that I read from an online friend of mine, "You don't get to pick.  Love chooses you."

I've come to realize that I've probably only truly been in love twice.  Once many years ago, and I have blogged about that and again recently, which I have also blogged about and for a million different complicated reasons, still haven't said or done anything about.  I have, however, convinced myself that I was in love several times in  between.  Sometimes out of desperation, sometimes out of hope, always while truly loving the person I was with.  It took me years to learn to make the distinction.

See, maybe it was how I was raised, maybe it's the simple fact of being a flower grandchild, but regardless of the reasonings behind it, I love very freely and easily.  Society, overall, does not give me much opportunity to say "I love you" to those I do without it turning into something awkward or dirty or without the pretense of being drunk.  I care very deeply for people, once I let them in.  I am loyal to a fault.  If they let me, I would give them the world, even if it meant sacrificing of myself to do so...  and sometimes it does.  Once I love, I love forever, even when I can't have them in my life anymore, or they can't have me, or we simply drift apart.  That love is unbreakable for me, I believe it's the same for others, but only if/when they allow themselves the freedom to love back.

Thankfully, in my life, I think it's not as rare as I have, and sometimes still do, fear it to be.

If I thought it were possible without omissions, to list either the people I love or at least those I love who I have lost, in some manner, I would do so, but it would literally and physically pain me to forget people, which I would.  Instead, I'll just hope that you know who you are... those of you I love.  Take it for what it is and don't try to read into it, because love isn't all that complicated.  It's hormones and emotions and societal...  *thinks*...  taboos?  that make it so.

It's very simple.  We love.  It's not about sex, it's not about romance, it's about family and friends and caring.  It's about loyalty.  It's about taking joy in the joy of others and feeling sadness because someone you love is sad.  It's a sharing of emotions and a desire to do so.  It just is.  And we'd all be better off, as a whole and individually, if we could just accept it...  and remember that it's ok, as long as we don't make it complicated.

Love,

~FG };^>