<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611</id><updated>2009-11-01T02:29:27.602-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ambiguity</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>414</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-1520566734748753776</id><published>2009-10-09T06:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:22:17.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'>j:</title><content type='html'>I had a series of interesting/weird dreams last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In one of them, someone was telling me about how their grandfather just inexplicably dropped dead. Suddenly I was reliving that scene with them. It was their grandfather's birthday and the whole family was gathered to surprise him. The party was for ninja themed... I don't know. The grandfather was surprised when he walked out and saw ninjas spinning bows and a bonfire with ninja ceremonies going on around it. After that the party went inside to cut the cake and he was giving joyous hugs to all of his family when, suddenly, he froze up stiff and literally fell like a tree. End of dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I was in this post-apocalyptic city, wandering through buildings and basements. I recall lots of stairwells and climbing through broken windows, with no particular destination in mind. Eventually I ended up on this parking lot property underneath a highway and heard someone coming. For some reason I knew that I was on their property, so I tried to hide behind some hanging ropes? But from a distance he spotted me and has his dog attack. I stood my ground as the dog charged, and when it leapt at me I used its momentum to swing it around right back at its owner. End of dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-1520566734748753776?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/1520566734748753776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=1520566734748753776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1520566734748753776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1520566734748753776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/10/j.html' title='j:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-1058786122372928374</id><published>2009-10-06T14:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T14:53:22.374-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i:</title><content type='html'>Here goes round 2.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-1058786122372928374?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/1058786122372928374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=1058786122372928374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1058786122372928374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1058786122372928374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/10/i.html' title='i:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-4765590560513618148</id><published>2009-09-25T12:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T12:58:19.719-05:00</updated><title type='text'>h:</title><content type='html'>For every action there is a consequence. For each consequence there is a choice in responsibility.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-4765590560513618148?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/4765590560513618148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=4765590560513618148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/4765590560513618148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/4765590560513618148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/09/h.html' title='h:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-7720746392042054769</id><published>2009-09-10T14:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T14:20:18.249-05:00</updated><title type='text'>g:</title><content type='html'>These days when I see open spaces, I just want to go. Same phenomenon of seeing the mileage signs for Denver on I-70 and wanting to just keep on driving. Part of it is a desire to escape. Part of it is a desire to be irrational. Part of it is because running through an open field is cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-7720746392042054769?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/7720746392042054769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=7720746392042054769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/7720746392042054769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/7720746392042054769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/09/g.html' title='g:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-1618282396628648923</id><published>2009-08-17T11:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T14:32:54.952-05:00</updated><title type='text'>F:</title><content type='html'>"The rest of your life" is a difficult thing to face. I think back to when I broke my thumb, and when the cast came off the doctor told me I would never have my full range of motion or full strength in it again. I gave up learning guitar at that point because I couldn't bar anymore, which is not a sacrifice of monumental proportions, but just one of the realities of that "the rest of your life" example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there are the things that don't really last forever, but certainly feel like they will. Probably the most common example is heartbreak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know when I'll be able to move on. It feels like never, but I should know better. What a mind trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-1618282396628648923?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/1618282396628648923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=1618282396628648923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1618282396628648923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1618282396628648923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/08/f.html' title='F:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-9134065942003072921</id><published>2009-07-27T07:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T07:39:02.302-05:00</updated><title type='text'>.....</title><content type='html'>It's like rebreaking a bone. For a while something hasn't been growing right or healing normally. The only solution is to break the bone and reset the healing process. It hurts like all hell for some undetermined amount of time - days, months, maybe years- but there is the hope that eventually it'll be healthy. And then there is the very common aftermath of permanent damage. Loss in range of motion, stress pains, etc. that persist. I don't know how to cope with the pain. Part of me wants to just get away. For some reason, Argentina and Switzerland don't sound too far fetched to be in by the end of the week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-9134065942003072921?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/9134065942003072921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=9134065942003072921' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/9134065942003072921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/9134065942003072921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html' title='.....'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-207299524199094836</id><published>2009-07-06T14:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T14:43:12.201-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bottom:</title><content type='html'>Some days you gotta take steps of faith. Some days you gotta take leaps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-207299524199094836?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/207299524199094836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=207299524199094836' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/207299524199094836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/207299524199094836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/07/bottom.html' title='Bottom:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-4575344276291017753</id><published>2009-06-28T07:39:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T07:50:07.754-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Toot:</title><content type='html'>Last night, I was asked what the tuning of a violin is. I blanked and it took me a while to figure it out. It's pretty sad when the basics slip after seeking mastery of an instrument for many years. Kind of the same as asking a math major what addition is or an English major what a noun is, and them being unable to answer on the fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story is not all bad. In an exercise of curiousity, I tried to remember the tone of an A note ("note" and "tone" have the same letters but mixed up... weird) and hum it. The A is the tuning string of a violin- the first thing you learn how to play and the first note played before every performance. A few guesses later, I had found something that sounded right and matched it up with the piano app on my iphone. Spot on! I suppose something is still ingrained in there. It's certainly not perfect pitch, but perhaps best described as tonal memory. Happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-4575344276291017753?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/4575344276291017753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=4575344276291017753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/4575344276291017753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/4575344276291017753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/06/toot.html' title='Toot:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-1558924184007735334</id><published>2009-06-23T07:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T08:49:17.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yogging:</title><content type='html'>I know I have been given a gift that I do not utilize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My senior year of high school I began to run once a week. My dad would wake me up super early to run the 2 mile route he had run every morning for as long as I could remember. The first month was pretty rough for me, as it usually goes when getting physically active, but after that it didn't take long for me to smoke my dad and my siblings without the need to catch my second wind. My frame is naturally not useful for heavy lifting, or quickness, or balance even. Efficiency is more fitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring of sophomore year I tried to start up running once again, after my ever present slothness put an end to any exercise shortly after I was on my own at school. I think the catalyst was the objective to get in shape to endure a backpacking trip, which I believe I was successful at that. Anyway, I tried to find people who would run with me to help keep me consistent, but with little avail. So I went solo, mostly out from North Campus down to the Chapel courtyard where I could spend some time meditating before jogging back. Of course, that fell off quickly for the same reasons previously cited and since then I can count on one hand the number of times I've run (that's over the past 4 years). Sad, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my lungs probably shrunken now to the size of prunes, my arteries thoroughly clogged with the gloriousness of unhealthy foods, and my ever wavering mental determination- I dread trying to start up running again. It would be a painful, yet good thing for me. I hope that by thinking about it enough, I can guilt myself into doing it. I guess that's the sort of motivation I need.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-1558924184007735334?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/1558924184007735334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=1558924184007735334' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1558924184007735334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1558924184007735334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/06/yogging.html' title='Yogging:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-1112197262560785346</id><published>2009-06-11T14:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T15:16:40.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clockwork:</title><content type='html'>Meditations:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That which is pressing. That which is observed. That which is understood. That which must be let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For most of the time the world is out of focus. Everything around me is less real or consequential, as if the edges of things become blurry and the colors dull. Instead I am caught in my head where there is this buzz- not because of the gears turning or thoughts flying around, but because there is numbness and a lack of clear orientation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On occassion I will break out of this fog for a few moments. As if thinking clearly and deliberately also results in me being able to notice the fine features of the royal blue pen that sits on my desk, along with the rest of the world around me. It is simply imagined that focus is clarity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think most people experience the opposite where they see the present for the most part instead of having a near permanent overlay of this false reality stew, cooked up from dwelling in the past and dreaming of some future. I do not necessarily envy their vision, since the present is not all that matters. I do wish I could break through the clouds to see the sun more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-1112197262560785346?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/1112197262560785346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=1112197262560785346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1112197262560785346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1112197262560785346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/06/clockwork.html' title='Clockwork:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-699201005457232249</id><published>2009-06-02T11:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T13:54:15.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mirrors:</title><content type='html'>Consider your former self. How far back do you think you could go such that he/she would be able to recognize well your current self? I mean not just in the physical sense, but in the holistic sense of what defines you as a person. For me, I think myself from about four years ago wouldn't have too much trouble understanding who I am and who I have become. Much more prior to that I think would be a stretch. Myself from one year ago? I think if we blindfolded ourselves and spun around ten times, neither of us would be able to discern any difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny. I think if I were to ask the people around me how much I have evolved or grown, they would argue differently and say that perhaps the change has not been drastic, but certainly something they have perceived one way or another. The case most likely stands for everybody, since self perception is inherently so diluted by us being with ourselves all the time. So what does any of this mean? I don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-699201005457232249?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/699201005457232249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=699201005457232249' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/699201005457232249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/699201005457232249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/06/mirrors.html' title='Mirrors:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-3587515509354843095</id><published>2009-05-21T13:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T13:57:32.434-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Grammatical:</title><content type='html'>On the back of the bathroom stall doors here at work, there are signs with a few points about sanitation and hygenics. The last point ends by saying "the dirt and germs you leave behind can harm others." Whenever I read that, the wording makes me unsettled... what sounds better to me would be "the dirt and germs you leave behind can be harmful to others" because dirt is an inanimate object. Now I am no expert on grammer, but I feel like I'm in the right on this. Agree or disagree?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-3587515509354843095?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/3587515509354843095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=3587515509354843095' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/3587515509354843095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/3587515509354843095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/05/grammatical.html' title='Grammatical:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-8350804334369579978</id><published>2009-05-04T11:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T11:56:36.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Incurable:</title><content type='html'>I am so tired. The kind where sleep doesn't do any good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-8350804334369579978?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/8350804334369579978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=8350804334369579978' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/8350804334369579978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/8350804334369579978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/05/incurable.html' title='Incurable:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-1353576591227494866</id><published>2009-04-09T16:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T16:24:05.948-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Productivity:</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Sometimes it is hard to be motivated at work--&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;me: haha&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;i want guacamole&lt;br /&gt;5:12 PM &lt;br /&gt;Matt: i should have been a roman emperor&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;go get some&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;look at you, you're like a bag of hungryness&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;me: a sack, even&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Matt: haha&lt;br /&gt;5:13 PM &lt;br /&gt;yeah but it could be a marble sack, or a potato sack...big size difference&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;a bag is general you know around the same size&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;unless its a snack, sandwich, or lunch bag&lt;br /&gt;5:14 PM &lt;br /&gt;me: there aren't very big bags though... like few reach the size of a sack&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Matt: yes&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;me: body bag perhaps&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Matt: true story hippos&lt;br /&gt;5:15 PM &lt;br /&gt;and baseball bags&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;me: hockey bag&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;that's all i can think of&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Matt: yeah i was squinting because i was thinking hard&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;me: for sacks, you have all kinds of produce that comes in sacks&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;peanuts too&lt;br /&gt;5:16 PM &lt;br /&gt;Matt: none as big as the potato though&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;me: i don't know anyone who has a marble sack&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Matt: i have a marble sack&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;they had marble sack in the movie major league 2 as well&lt;br /&gt;5:17 PM &lt;br /&gt;me: that's just unamerican&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-1353576591227494866?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/1353576591227494866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=1353576591227494866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1353576591227494866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1353576591227494866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/04/productivity.html' title='Productivity:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-3125705239730923610</id><published>2009-03-30T09:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T09:23:08.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Knobs:</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I feel like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fireman arrives at the scene of a house on fire. He busts the front door down and does a quick search for anyone inside and finds that no one was home, at which point he decides to do his best to isolate the fire by moving furniture and removing air flow. When he's done all he can inside, the fireman lays out his hose and hooks it up to the nearest hydrant and prepares to fight the fire, confident that he can minimize the damage. But when he goes to turn on the water, the valve knob which should be as easy to operate as a kitchen sink faucet just won't budge. He uses whatever leverage he can find to turn it, but his attempts are useless. So, he plops down on the ground and watches the house burn...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-3125705239730923610?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/3125705239730923610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=3125705239730923610' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/3125705239730923610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/3125705239730923610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/03/knobs.html' title='Knobs:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-9070183445223734373</id><published>2009-03-27T10:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T12:25:39.138-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spaces:</title><content type='html'>As of late, I have been almost exclusively been listening to classical and country music. My ties to classical music and thoughts on it have been somewhat discussed in past posts, so you're welcome to browse through those as you please. It's nice to listen to when I go to bed because it's comparitively abstract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've changed my default car radio station to the local country station, which is a pretty sharp contrast to the hip hop station it used to be sitting on. Back in the day, around my sophomore year of high school, I picked up listening to country music mainly because I was intrigued by the fiddle/violin interludes. I stuck with it for a couple of years up until my sophomore year of college when my music tastes were less compatible and not so easily shared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a couple of things about country music. The lyrics are simple and easy to understand, though I don't think there is necessarily any loss of meaning (one can be equally convicted whether it's through a commandment or a parable). The rhythmic meter, chorus/verse structure, and instrumental sounds are all very standard and traditional, so while the music is not very innovative it certainly can be described as comfortable. Also, it seems like it's a smaller genre where there aren't very many hits and the same songs are circulated over and over, alternated with classic hits from the past ten years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No conclusion to be drawn from any of that. Just- when it's nice enough out to have your windows rolled down and you find some wide open roads- go ahead and try blasting some country and you'll probably feel better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-9070183445223734373?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/9070183445223734373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=9070183445223734373' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/9070183445223734373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/9070183445223734373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/03/spaces.html' title='Spaces:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-5439108581529815404</id><published>2009-03-10T13:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T14:05:19.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Penance:</title><content type='html'>Lessons in missing the point. I've always liked this phrase, though I don't really know what it means or where it came from. I guess the way I interpret it is that there is a lot to learn from being oblivious. Like how people are concerned with the radiation emitted by cell phones while the Sun's radiation does 100 times the damage to our bodies- some things are inescapable so why worry about it? Another train of thought that runs parallel as a lesson- motives without goals. When I can identify a motive without a goal I realize that I've probably missed the point. Example- "I work hard so that I can get a promotion. I get a promotion so that I can get paid more. I get paid more so that I can afford... What do I really need to buy again?" Or- "I spend time with this person so that I can get to know them better. I get to know them better so that we can be closer. I get closer to them so that we can form a relationship... Wait, is this someone who actually makes me happy?". Do you get the picture of this exercise?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-5439108581529815404?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/5439108581529815404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=5439108581529815404' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/5439108581529815404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/5439108581529815404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/03/penance.html' title='Penance:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-3934125368519105141</id><published>2009-03-05T12:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:21:03.288-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Genome:</title><content type='html'>I stumbled upon this podcast last night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://blog.pandora.com/podcast/"&gt;http://blog.pandora.com/podcast/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each episode discusses a different aspect of music and picks it apart. The guests provide musical examples for each point so that it is very easy to understand what they are talking about. It's absolutely fascinating to me, and I'd recommend it to anyone who is a music nerd. Maybe start with "Meters and Time Signatures" or "Synthesis".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-3934125368519105141?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/3934125368519105141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=3934125368519105141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/3934125368519105141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/3934125368519105141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/03/genome.html' title='Genome:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-7840921025417347675</id><published>2009-02-18T12:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T13:22:30.878-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Resistivity:</title><content type='html'>Carefree. That is not how I would describe myself. There is much I care about, much I mull over and often I find myself more lost than before. Somehow it doesn't seem like it should be that way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-7840921025417347675?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/7840921025417347675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=7840921025417347675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/7840921025417347675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/7840921025417347675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/02/resistivity.html' title='Resistivity:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-1807764594143731532</id><published>2009-02-10T11:32:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T15:52:18.668-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Triforce:</title><content type='html'>I need to get into a game. A hardcore video game. I now seem to have a little more time since I work much closer to home. Other people seem more busy than I with other people, so I don't spend my time hanging out. Looks like next on my priority list is video games. And what's wrong with getting lost in a little fantasy? I think I dwell on the pains and stresses of life too much anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question becomes- what game?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jam of the moment: Leave Out All the Rest - Linkin Park&lt;br /&gt;And not because it was played during the Twilight credits, but because it is a staple to my current Pandora station project.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-1807764594143731532?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/1807764594143731532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=1807764594143731532' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1807764594143731532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1807764594143731532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/02/triforce.html' title='Triforce:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-1161005989229124384</id><published>2009-02-06T08:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T09:59:54.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Temperance:</title><content type='html'>I've written about this before. I've been thinking about it recently in a different light. Temperance generally can be interpreted as the control of anger- whether it's how one regulates action when angry or perhaps just being less angry. But what about how that is affected by the tempers of the people around you? If my friend is angry about something and I get angry about it as well, we're likely to feed off of each other probably resulting in the demonizing of that subject. If my friend is angry about something and I don't feel the same way, there's more perspective that will likely balance the situation. Hence then it seems to make sense to surround myself with people who are better tempered than me in certain areas, and help others who are less tempered than I in the other areas. Completely logical. What about people who don't care to be calmed when they are angry? Is temperance really a good thing or is it just repression? And how often is it overlooked or underappreciated as a character trait?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I've got on that. I can't seem to hold onto a single train of thought for more than 5 minutes these days. How sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-1161005989229124384?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/1161005989229124384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=1161005989229124384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1161005989229124384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1161005989229124384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2009/02/temperance.html' title='Temperance:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-1882302752553563596</id><published>2008-12-04T10:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T10:28:18.787-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Theater:</title><content type='html'>I've never really been the theatrical type. As a kid I would get lead roles in the church musicals solely because I was classically trained, hence having a good sense of pitch and the ability to learn tunes quickly. The play director, however, never failed to mention how lacking I was in expression and acting. In high school, I knew my place was not on the stage, but rather in the pit. I realize now how my shortcomings in expressing myself permeate into my daily interactions. Sometimes I may not be as animated as I want to be so the message comes across suppressed. Other times I will just not try at all. I don't think I'm saying I need to join an actors guild to be more showy. I think I just want to say what I need to say. Shut up John Mayer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-1882302752553563596?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/1882302752553563596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=1882302752553563596' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1882302752553563596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/1882302752553563596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2008/12/theater.html' title='Theater:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-8653074608947793184</id><published>2008-10-22T16:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T16:18:00.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Alien:</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBL_6Ibu5Vo/SP-Ycm1YcWI/AAAAAAAAABw/5z0YBECov34/s1600-h/DSC00067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBL_6Ibu5Vo/SP-Ycm1YcWI/AAAAAAAAABw/5z0YBECov34/s400/DSC00067.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260090507020235106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-8653074608947793184?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/8653074608947793184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=8653074608947793184' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/8653074608947793184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/8653074608947793184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2008/10/alien.html' title='Alien:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBL_6Ibu5Vo/SP-Ycm1YcWI/AAAAAAAAABw/5z0YBECov34/s72-c/DSC00067.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-2991223662642064312</id><published>2008-10-07T00:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T01:17:49.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Titans:</title><content type='html'>Lately I've been listening to a lot of classical music. I'll turn it on in my room as I'm going to sleep or waking up. When I think about it, the approach and results are so incredibly different from most popular modern music. Usually classical music involves fifty people who have devoted their lives to the discipline of their instrument playing. Most bands today have about five people who are looking to make a sound that has yet to be discovered.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could probably go on and on about classical pieces, but generally my analysis is pretty abstract and uninteresting. But here's something definite- pieces composed by Mozart are beast. Bach has some awesome concertos, while Beethoven rocks the symphonies. Brahms is the worst and can burn in hell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-2991223662642064312?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/2991223662642064312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=2991223662642064312' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/2991223662642064312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/2991223662642064312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2008/10/titans.html' title='Titans:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7577611.post-183586019347969371</id><published>2008-08-27T06:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T06:43:24.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lunch:</title><content type='html'>I eat out a lot here, which will definitely be something I will miss at my new job. Usually, I rotate between Potbelly's, California Tortilla, The 1819 Deli, Fuddruckers, Quiznos, Subway, Dominos, a couple of Indian places, and this place that has the best BBQ beef brisket that I could possibly imagine. For months, one of my coworkers and I have been trying to find what we call "The Shwarma Cart". There's this online listing of Hilal food in the area and the reviews of this food cart listed his location a few blocks from my office, yet he was never there. This week he finally appeared, but instead right around the corner of our block! The food is awesome, especially his falafel. It's pretty much the best falafel I've ever had. I'd eat it everyday for the remaining time I have here, but I have so many free lunches lined up that I may only be able to go there a few more times. When it comes to food, I think I'm pretty spoiled right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7577611-183586019347969371?l=bertronium.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/feeds/183586019347969371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7577611&amp;postID=183586019347969371' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/183586019347969371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7577611/posts/default/183586019347969371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bertronium.blogspot.com/2008/08/lunch.html' title='Lunch:'/><author><name>Bertronium</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05563877877597373564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='09164158916488166756'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry></feed>