Author: Carl Setzer

I’ve been taking a PhotoShop class (properly Digital Art and Design) this semester. Exploring all the different elements of PS has been both eye-opening and exhausting. I’ve fiddled with prior versions of PS, but never done much more than the very basic. Now, we’ve spent the better part of three months diving deep. And the main thing I’ve learned is how little I know.

This was a silly thing I zapped out, considering the season. It was fun to make, if a bit cheesy. (For some reason, the animation is not showing up in the blog post. Click on the link and you can see it in it’s full glory.)

A friend of mine and I developed a rating scale for puns. Rated 1-10 where 1=mild groaning, 10=potential internal bleeding. This warrants at least an 8, and should come with a surgeon general warning. And, of course, it delights me.

Just in time for Christmas, here’s your link to my Amazon’s Wish List. My family is pretty big on Christmas lists, so this should be a decent tool for them. With this button, you can upload non-Amazon “stuff” to the site as well. Thusly, you have a comprehensive database of all your desires, available to your most fervent fans, 24/7. Now everyone will have the ability to delight you with items that align with your tastes and sensibilities. The universe is now gloriously aligned. You may return to your regularly scheduled shopping.

Ages ago, it seems, I started exploring FriendFeed. I started messing with it after Robert Scoble sang it’s praises. (Perhaps you’ve noticed the FriendFeed badge on the right hand column of my blog?) I like the notion of consolidating the various social network streams, as well as the ability to combine the comment threads into one place. Currently, My FriendFeed combines my Twitter feed, my Flickr stream, my Delicious bookmarks and this blog. One challenge I’ve pondered regarding the plethora of social media sites is keeping this mess organized. Heck, I’ve been wondering how I can avoid neglecting any of them. By smooshing the different threads together, FF provides that common place to follow your work. So far, so good.

I wonder, though, if there is an iPhone app, like Twitter has? It would be nice, if addictive, to have access to these threads remotely. Eh, who needs this “life” stuff, anyways.

From my friend Digitalzen over at Digital Dharma. (I LOVE Leonard Cohen! Especially Hallelujah).

“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”
~ Leonard Cohen

Ms. Vasilakis, one of the presenters on Classical Destinations here performs Bloch. Lovely, simply lovely.

I received an email today asks “should a business be on Twitter”. Fortunately, no one was home since I swore I would scream the next time I saw/heard that. Jeez, folks, old, old news. However, for the sake of venting here’s my two-cents on this.

“Should a business be on Twitter” (or insert your social media site of choice: Facebook, blogging, blah blah) should only get one answer: “it depends”. If you’re fretting because you’re not playing with the latest toys, get over it. Twitter is one tool amidst thousands. Therefore, it should depend on your strategy. Before you run around blasting tweets, updating your Facebook site, think about a strategy. Who are you trying to reach? How often are you trying to reach them? What are you trying to tell them? Twitter has some significant limitations (most obvious: 140 characters), so it’s not ideal for everything.

I feel compelled to add one other note. Twitter can be used to see what people are saying about you, you’re favorite politician, celebrity criminal, whatever. Even if you are blasting tweets, the tools can still be quite useful and powerful.

Eternal Earth-Bound Pets, USA

You’ve committed your life to Jesus. You know you’re saved. But when the Rapture comes what’s to become of your loving pets who are left behind? Eternal Earth-Bound Pets takes that burden off your mind.

We are a group of dedicated animal lovers, and atheists. Each
Eternal Earth-Bound Pet representative is a confirmed atheist, and as such will still be here on Earth after you’ve received your reward.

Perhaps somewhat sacrilegious (ok, ok…nuke the “somewhat”), but I found this hysterical. I wonder, though, if they’ve made any money.

Trees still full of leaves, with a vibrant array of colors. A time of vibrancy, tinged with the calming quite of winter approaching. The taste of which floats upon the wind. During the time of year when oak and maples change from green to red and orange, but not yet brown, I came into this world. For 43 of these seasons I wandered and wondered in many places upon this globe. Myriad questions floated past my purview. Some finding answers, some of those answers turning from definitive into something less so. And a good many of my life’s queries simply offered up into the grand mystery of existence.

Early in my life, I remember one winter. Newport, Rhode Island; snow, a thick, comfortable coat, corduroy, and boots. And my mother’s attention to this moment’s fun. Drifting forth, I remember a school room, doffing coats upon hooks, snow melting into puddles, warmth flowing forth.

Sometime after, but not too much so, a vision of grey, white and black flickering inside a giant wooden box. Faint visions of grey dirt, a oddly bouncing man leaping forth from a tin-foil house. The lunar landing filled me with wonder, becoming my earliest obsession. Moon books, astronaut books, comics, toys, and myriad paraphernalia. Slowly, this expanded out to aviation in general. Lucky me, later on in life, my father worked at the Pentagon and brought me home a 3-d/moving image disc of a NASA weather plane. This delighted me for years.

We moved to Northern Virginia, where I started school. An ancient (by my standards) farm flowed onto our back yard. It was there during the Civil War. This neighborhood, just over a hundred years prior, spent time as a battlefield; one of the battles of Bull Run or the Battle of Chantilly, depending on who you asked. There were many moments exploring Civil War sites nearby, which filled me with a sense of excited wonder. Oddly, now when I reflect on that time, I’m filled with a sense of sadness. Massive losses of sons, husbands, fathers loaded the country with sorrow. With such glories journeys great pain. Much like Janus, this dualistic face.

Moments in Subic Bay, Philippines, an older child, yet still quite a child. Staring in wonder upward at hordes of giant fruit bats, literally blackening the sky. These amazing animals, some with wing-spans of 6 feet, brought me an appreciation of nature. Never had I seen such an amazing display. The wildlife there taught me so much of life. Geckos running amok, in every room, in cars, across dinner tables. Ants appearing wherever sugar lay forgotten, sometimes seconds afterwards…or so it seems. Then ants, much larger, aggressive, determined, making nests of leaves, leaving trails in the jungle, where I wasn’t suppose to be wandering. A jungle laden with excitement, and danger…though I wasn’t cognizant of this danger. Such things as asiatic cobras, monitor lizards, and myriad other toxic animals alone would probably give my parents sleepless nights…had they known I wandered amongst those vine laden trees.

Returning, in a sense, late elementary age, to the Seattle area. Place of my parents birth, grand-parent’s births, and myriad journeys for holidays. An excitement to see my grandparents regularly. Proximal family helped bring a sense of “home” to this place. Though I made many good friends, I always felt a sense of alienness. Someone with a world of exploration behind him amongst people who, many at least, had not ever left the region. An early global vision amongst very provincial people.

Adult journeys included a stint in northwestern Oregon, time in central Florida, and eastern Idaho. Part of my twenties was spent fleeing this area. The rest of those years was spent re-integrating myself to this region. One key moment came, upon a transiting Trident Submarine returning to Hood Canal, seeing the mist working through the autumnal evergreens and feeling a powerful sense of home.

Now, I look back upon myriad choices. Poor ones, painful ones, some with regrets, some with wonder at resultant joy. After all of it, I must say that my life is pleasing. Sitting here, listening to my son do homework, my wife assisting, fills me with a sense of wondrous, delighted contentment. Knowing quite well that those choices, good and ill, all ladder upon each other building towards this life I have now. Knowing that, looking out upon my wonderful mass of friends and family, I accept the pains of old. Without them, this life, this now wouldn’t exist. Perhaps, then, I am grateful.