Who is to blame, the anesthesiologist or the surgeon?
You can’t spell “philodendron” without a PhD.
February 19, 2009Getting into Grad School provides some useful tips on how to prepare/get into graduate school. It also has a student forum, guides, and links. But what I found most useful was their humor section.
Some lines from “101 Things (NOT) To Do At Your Thesis Defense”:
- “Ladies and Gentlemen, as I dim the lights, please hold hands and concentrate so that we may channel the spirit of Herodotus…”
- Release a flock of doves.
- Group prayer.
- “There will be a short quiz after my presentation…”
- Make each professor remove an item of clothing for each question he asks.
- Mime.
- “In protest of our government’s systematic and brutal oppression of minorities…”
- “Anybody else as drunk as I am?”
- “I’m sorry Professor Smith, I didn’t say ‘SIMON SAYS any questions?’. You’re out.”
- Smoke machines, dramatic lighting, pyrotechnics…
- Use a Greek Chorus to highlight important points.
- Leave Jehovah’s Witness pamphlets scattered about.
- “Duck, duck, duck, duck… GOOSE!”
- “Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise for the singing of our National Anthem…”
- Stage your own death/suicide.
- “The responsorial psalm can be found on page 124 of the thesis…”
- “Please phrase your question in the form of an answer…”
Radiating art
February 18, 2009Nick Veasey, British X-ray photographer, uses radiation imaging to illuminate what lies within us.
Wired Magazine article on his art.
Avec le temps…
December 31, 2008With time,
with time, everything goes away.
we forget the face and the voice,
when the heart beats no more.
its not worth searching further
you must let things be and that’s fine.
with time,
with time, everything goes away.
the other one we adored, whom we sought in the rain
the other one we read with
just a glance between the words, between the lines,
and under the disguise of a painted promise which falls asleep.
with time,
everything disappears.
with time,
with time, everything goes away.
even the dearest memories, even your chatter at the gallery, as I rummaged
in the dying light, saturday evening when tenderness departed alone.
with time,
with time everything goes away
the other person we believed in for nursing a cold, for anything,
the other we gave fresh air and jewels, for whom we’d sell our soul for pennies, behind whom one trailed like a dog.
with time, everything goes well.
with time,
with time everything goes away.
we forget the passion and the voices which whispher the words of the poor
“dont come back too late”: above all don’t catch a cold.
with time,
with time everything goes away.
we feel wearly like ean exhausted forse and we fewl frozen into a perilous bed.
we feel perhaps alone but carefree and we feel cheated by the lost years.
so truely, with time one loves no more.
Doesn’t this seem like the proper way to start the new year?
Nothing but ice and land
October 24, 2008How do you capture and hold on to nothingness in a single frame shot? I have been trying to formulate the right set of words to describe my Icelandic transcendence, and yet I am still unable to. I figured I would try to get my point across in a much more fluid way by posting some photos. Words would be unsuccessful in this case, so I hope something visually stimulating would be more convincing.
Iceland is full of mysterious and hidden places so its hard not to find yourself on a personal scavenger hunt, either if its for “huldufolks” (hidden people, trolls) or volcanic craters or oddly shaped rock formations. The things to find are endless. The colors for your lateral geniculate to process are unlimited. Yet the people to meet are scarce. Two-thirds of the population (300,000 total) reside in the capital, so it is rare to come across a single soul outside of the city, making you feel ever bit secluded from the world. But that my friend is one of the greatest experiences of human existence. Some places I would recommend to escape would be Vatnajokull (southeast Iceland), Skogafoss + Seljalandsfoss (waterfalls), and Landmannalaugar.
