Why we call Jesus “Lord”

Scott blogs about (Advanced) Dungeons and Dragons and it brings back memories of Sunday School.

It was third grade sunday school, We are talking about why we refer to God as “Our Lord.” “Does anyone know what a ‘lord’ is,” the nun asks?

Nobody else knows. I raise my hand.

“Yes, Terry?”

“It’s a tenth level fighter!” I answer.

The whole class freezes… and then bursts out into laughter.

The nun continues, “That may be true, but in the middle ages…

You can bet I had no trouble answering this question in 6th grade social studies segment on feudalism.

Sometimes when we’re most embarrassed is when we learn the most.

(Embarrassed because clearly a fighter becomes a lord at the 9th level, not the 10th. 😉 )

Thank you Dad (and Santa) for giving me the Basic D&D set in the third grade.

I go down the rabbit hole.

The day I first laid eyes on this, my life changed forever.

I have this box in storage in the South Bay. And people wonder why I don’t clean out my storage?!

Dial-a-gender

Twice this month I found that I’ve found that I’m a better conversationalist when I’m waiting in line to use the bathroom in those bars, places, or homes that don’t have separate bathrooms by gender.

I guess it’s the combination of boredom, a captive audience, and the need to distract myself from my bladder causes me to strike up a conversation.

It gets me wondering if this is one reason women, who have to endure “the pee line” on an almost daily basis, go to the bathroom in groups.

But mostly it gets me thinking about an obscure piece of Caltech arcana.

In the North Houses, the bathrooms have urinals, stalls, showers and a sink. This makes them impossible to have a locked door/pee line combination. They were designed at a time when the campus was single-gendered (male). When they became multi-gendered, before that balance was anything remotely like a geek event, this represented a big logistical problem.

The solution, I felt, was quite clever. Basically all you needed was an old LP, a nail, and a white-out pen and created the dial-a-gender bathroom:

Dial-A-Gender

Just turn the wheel…like magic!

(I thought the bottom quadrant was quite clever.)

[The death of dial-a-gender after the jump]Continue reading

My supermodel moment

Just heard something about me that was completely ridiculous and, at the same time, very funny. (I only wish it were true.)

To set the record straight:
> Due to the ergodic hypothesis, social entropy, and a weird lensing effect, it may have appeared at that particular moment that the male-female ratio in my vicinity suffered a slight and short-lived population inversion.

Dave says that everyone eventually has their “supermodel moment” and I guess whatever caused that person to say that comment about me was mine.

We’ll give you something hot to photograph

We’ll give you something hot to photograph
Slide, Union Square, San Francisco, California

Nikon D70, Nikkor 12-24mm f/4G, SB-800, Ultimate Light Box
1/20 sec @ f/4, iso 1250, 12mm (18mm)

I was photographing an event and asked these pretty girls if they wouldn’t mind me taking their picture. After I did, two of them said they’d give me something really worth photographing, which they did multiple times.

This photo appeared on my Facebook feed and Plaxo Pulse, and incidents like this is how rumors about me get started.

Not that I’m complaining!

It isn’t Thanksgiving without the kimchee

22 November 2007.

The dishes are being passed around the table: turkey, white and dark meat, cranberry sauce, gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet potato, stuffing, kimchee…

Maybe at your Thanksgiving there is that dish that is not like the others—the one that reminds you that no matter how twinkie you’ve become, there is still a hint of your ethnic heritage you just can’t get rid of.

At the Korean-American Thanksgiving table, that dish is kimchee.

The sight of kimchee reminds me that in the last two decades, this is only my second Thanksgiving spent with the family. I recall the other one…

[Two (first) thanksgivings with the family after the jump]Continue reading

My short career in modeling

There are a couple guys in the tech world who are models, have been models, or could be models. A friend said that the combination of tall, dark, handsome and geeky was “totally unfair” to us. (I assume she meant to us guys, but I suppose it could go for girls also—maybe for them it’s like some five year old kid pushing down on all the attraction buttons at once.)

It happened at a party that one of these model-geeks was saying, “The first thing they taught us in modeling class…”

At that moment, I almost said, “The first thing they taught me in modeling class is…” *raises hand high above head* “…you have to be this tall to get in.”

Luckily, I managed to hold back that thought—I wouldn’t want to mess with model-geek’s game.

And thus ended my short career in modeling.

Emphasis on short.

I’m popular, attractive, and self-confident!

Great news today! Halle blogs another gem about some social “research” results:

“One involved the creation of mock Facebook profiles. Researchers learned that while people perceive someone who has a high number of friends as popular, attractive and self-confident, people who accumulate “too many” friends (about 800 or more) are seen as insecure.”

High number of friends == attractive? Score! And what happens at 800? Does the Facebook CS team come and beat you with an ugly stick? I thought you’re supposed to troll their tagged pictures to decide about this one. And now that they’ve ajaxified the photos page, it’s oh so easy to do!

Unlike Halle, I’m under 800 friends, but I think it’s getting close. I better stop accepting friend requests…

Okay, one more friend.

Okay, maybe one more friend. 🙂

The sound of western medicine working

Antibiotics are a pretty amazing thing.

But in my life, I’ve never seen it work, only read about it in books such as All Creatures Great and Small or heard stories about how the amazing things that happened when my grandfather was a pediatrician.

It’s now more of a preventative, or to make our cattle a little bit bigger, or keep our chickens from dying in their horrible living conditions. But every so often you’re reminded…

Being sick

Being sick

I’ve been sick off and on pretty much continuously since June. This time, it was really unusually bad. A fever brought back the cold symptoms. But the fever was a clue, that maybe, this time, it might be a bacteria also. So when I finally got well enough that I could make it out of my apartment without dying (three days), I scheduled an appointment and got my meds again—the same antibiotic as last time. It wasn’t hard when you have a hundred degree fever plus the same symptoms as before.

On the MUNI ride back, I opened the package, looked at the first two caplets. “My little, red tactical nukes,” I sighed to myself, and popped them into my mouth. By the time I got home, I was so tired from the exertion I fell straight asleep.

Three hours later I woke to noises: a rumbling, a ratatatat, then a whale sound in my stomach. What the fuck? As consciousness returned, this was followed by assorted burping and farting and all manner of disgusting symphony.

I took my temperature: 98.6, spot on. I hadn’t had that temperature in over a week.

So that’s the sound of western medicine working, I nodded appreciatively.

I still have the cold to deal with, but now was the time to eat as my appetite finally came back…and to think, with a small regret, I could’ve really gotten some payback on my brother, some of my housemates, and assorted guy friends.

And this made me think back to a phone conversation I had over a decade ago.

[more sounds, after the jump]Continue reading

High maintenance

Two of my friends over dinner discussing a third…

“I wonder if she’s ‘high maintenance’.”

Then he immediately adds, “She probably is. Women that pretty usually are.”

I quietly smiled to myself. Not because she was or wasn’t “high maintenance”—I hadn’t a clue either way—but because it reminded of a friend I had in graduate school…

[Experiments in maintenance]Continue reading