Kudos Xian

I haven't seen Christian Rummel is years. Probably since we did Cyrano together. Apparently, though, he's doing okay for himself.

Kudos, old friend.

Lighting a Stick of Dynamite

This one's going to get me into a lot of trouble with a certain segment of the population, but I've just finished reading the most amazing book, and I've decided it's going to be my new bible.

The End of Faith: Religion, Terror and the Future of Reason is Sam Harris' plea for a return to reason and an elimination of faith -- mainly religious faith, but specifically "faith" in any untested, unprovable set of ideas -- from our lives.

It's really an amazing read. While I don't necessarily buy his arguments across the board, I really think this guy is a lone voice of sanity in a world gone mad.

He's managed to say (and defend) eloquently ideas that have been forming and roiling around inside of me for years. I just don't have the brains or the erudition to properly lay them out. This guy is wicked smart.

And given the way believers in general, and Muslims in particular, are taken to task for the idiocy they display by adhering to religious thought that hasn't evolved much in several millenia, I'm really surprised no crazies have taken potshots at Mr. Harris.

If I prayed, I'd pray he writes more, soon. And for his long life. Him and people like him may be our last best hope.

It's well put by another of my favorite people, Richard Dawkins, in his review of the book:

The End of Faith: Religion, Terror and the Future of Reason by Sam Harris is a genuinely frightening book about terrorism, and the central role played by religion in justifying and rewarding it. Others blame “extremists” who “distort” the “true” message of religion. Harris goes to the root of the problem: religion itself. Even moderate religion is a menace, because it leads us to respect and “cherish the idea that certain fantastic propositions can be believed without evidence”. Why do men like Bin Laden commit their hideous cruelties? The answer is that they “actually believe what they say they believe”. Read Sam Harris and wake up.

—Richard Dawkins, The Guardian

It Bears Repeating

So, yeah, we've all seen it before, but I stumbled across this again as I was cleaning out my e-mail inbox -- someone had sent it to me a while back -- and I just thought we all deserved a good laugh. I don't even like cats that much, really, but this makes me laugh and laugh.

Then again, they say all humor is based on someone else's pain. Maybe that's why I enjoy this sooooo much.

Ol' Dixie, Part Deux

Several dear friends have been hounding me for more info on the Trip to Beautiful, so I thought I'd jot down a couple of thoughts.

The first thing you notice about Durham, NC is how friendly the place is. I think it's probably a pretty normal trait in the heartland or in rural areas, but friendliness and kindness take on a different face here in NYC. Even before September 11th, 2001, I would have argued strenuously that New Yorkers were a friendly, helping bunch, by and large. You only needed to see how they helped tourists who were lost, or rallied around each other when their apartment buildings caught fire, or the outpouring of grief and outrage when some innocent was victimized. It was always there, but it was often disguised behind a brusqueness; they like to help, but this city imposes its own rigors, after all, and getting your business done quickly and efficiently is required for living here.

Durham was different. The lady behind the counter at the BP station, the folks behind the counter at the post office: These folks were doing their jobs, but that didn't stop them from actually engaging me in conversation. Offering a smile, or an anecdote. Making the transaction of business a real social interaction, not just something to be gotten through so you can move on to the next thing.

I like that about Durham. I think most people would; most Americans, at least. When I pointed out my observation to JayBird, he recounted tales of foreign friends who'd been really freaked out by the immediate availability and friendliness of complete strangers.

European Homey Don't Play That, apparently.

I will admit, at first I thought they seemed just a little too, I don't know, adamant about their friendliness. I got used to it.

Anywho. We left Durham and headed south and east toward the coast, eventually ending up for our one beach day in Wilmington, NC. Wilmington is the famous filming location of -- God help us -- Dawson's Creek and One Tree Hill.

After spending a wind-blown and entirely too brisk hour on the beach in Wilmington, we climbed back into the car and headed south toward Charleston. It was, of course, at this point that the clouds were banished, the sun came out, and the temperature climbed again. Figures.

In any case, we arrived in Charleston, and that about catches you up on the pictures you've seen so far.

After Charleston, we headed off to Savannah, GA. A beautiful city, where I caught this guy flying by...
Winging south:

...and his friend in repose:

We made the rash decision to drive back to Durham after Savannah, and made it home, after a marathon drive, just in time to go to bed. The next morning, JayBird captured this:

The reason we rushed back to Durham and spent the night there was so we could get up at dawn's crack and head north into Virginia, allowing me to see the Blue Ridge Parkway. We came across a place called "Mabry Mill." I misread the sign, and thought it said "Mabry Hill." I was a little peeved that "Mabry Hill" was actually in a valley. I'm dumb:

I was bound and determined to take this visual mess of a picture of the water spilling out of a sluice. Oh, if only I were a little more talented:

JayBird caught me in the act:

Again, we were off on the Parkway, until we found a place for Masha to play, and me to snap some shots. Did I tell you we brought Masha with us?

And you wonder why I want a dog. I'd frankly, at this point, prefer a dog to a boyfriend:

After spending the day on the Parkway, we headed back to Jay's parents' house for dinner. I got to meet their show horses (more photos of them later), and afterward we drove home to Durham for a day of relaxation. I took the opportunity to visit the Sarah Duke Gardens, on the campus of Duke Universtiy. Do I look fat to you? Be careful how you answer:

I'm not sure, but I think this one may be my favorite from the entire trip:

But this is nice, too:

And here's a quick snap of Chez JayBird. Ain't it sweet? He's done well:

Eventually, it was time to return north. JayBird and I collected his friends David and Katya (who were accompanying him back to NYC so they could all see Hedda Gabler at BAM. On the way home -- yes, I admit it, we were in the parking lot of a Burger King, and I was about to eat my first fast food in something like six years -- I stopped and snapped one last picture of Ol' Dixie:

So that's pretty much it. There are actually a lot more photos -- something on the order of 250 of 'em -- but I think those are the highlights. And I don't want this to turn into one of those horrible "we're all stuck watching the vacation slide show" moments.

The Eagle Has Landed

Well, I've returned to New York City a changed man. I'm relaxed, I'm pink (I just don't tan; it needs to be accepted), and I'm raring to jump back into life.

The week with JayBird was a delight, if all too brief. I'm not sure I want to go into detail, but perhaps later. For now, though, here are some highlights:

Winging south:

I have a reason to believe we both will be received in Graceland:

Masha Foo, the wonder dog:

Wilmington, NC:

The hand-drawn building (Wilmington, NC):

I j'adore a nice perspective shot:

Ditto:

My traveling companion is a super-secret-agent Man of Mystery:

I, however, am an unkempt, windblown, pudgy guy:

The crazy/beautiful bridge to Charleston, SC:

Lazy Charleston coffee stop:

This is the Farmer's & Exchange Bank building in Charleston. It's a National Historic Landmark, and it's sitting empty. I must own it:

JayBird shows his disdain for the stately manses of Charleston:

Joe shows his covetousness for the stately manses of Charleston:

One of the resplendant aforementioned manses:

In a quiet, waterfront park devoted to the Confederate defenders of Charleston, Jay discovers a Gattling gun and displays requisite reverence:

The delicate flowers of Savannah kick colorful ass:

That's all for now. I'll post some shots of our excursion along the Blue Ridge Parkway sometime soon. For now, though, a hearty thank you to my friends in Durham!

John Q. Has Spoken

Once again, the public has spoken, and proven once and for all that they know nothing:

Mea Culpa

Yes, it's been a while since I posted. My home computer is broken, remember?

Life's been a bit full lately. Nick kept me busy during his visit, and now I'm in Durham, getting ready to embark on the Tired Old Fat Men '06: Boys Gone Wild road trip with Jay. With any luck, I'll survive the week and and have plenty of stories and photos to share as well.

Oh, and remind me to tell you sometime about Sammy the God-Like Bartender.

Farewell, Bon Chance Mon Ami

Well, as you may have guessed, I (barely) survived the visit of my friend Nick. He went home last Wednesday, leaving me precious little time to recover before going off to North Carolina to visit the most delightful of birds, the Jay Bird.

More on that trip if I survive it.

That Shit is Loud

I was not yet drunk when I phoned this one in, but I was destined to be very, very drunk indeed before the night was over: