I am no longer a Transformer collector.

The last of my collection is on eBay.

I’ve got my old 30 gig HD installed into my shiny new external hard drive enclosure. I have found out that with 3.5″ drives (which is what I happen to have), neither USB nor Firewire has enough power to operate the drive. So, it works, but it has to be plugged in to a power cord, which makes it only a little more irritating when carrying it around for data mobility. However, I now have the data mobility that I was looking for, and am already chock-full of ideas on how to use it.

Also, for the last two mornings, I have had good showers. Not exceedingly long showers, and not showers with water pressure that could blast me across the tub, but -good- showers. What do I mean by that? I mean that, with the new shower head that got me, the hot water doesn’t run out at the end of my shower. Not only that, but I’m using quite a bit less water to shower than I ever have before.

Also, I have a new Transformer on my desk at work, thanks to Will. It’s amazed me how the subtle differences in this repaint’s mold, as well as the obvious differences in color, have created a totally different personality. Despite the nearly-identical body to Smokescreen, Ricochet comes off completely differently. This kind of thing -almost- makes up for what they did to Prowl and Optimus Prime. I also have an Optimus Primal statue for my desk at home, thanks to .

Some brilliance from about us and our food:

The other problem is squimishness. And this is, in my opinion the thornier of the issues. It does’t just involve completely restructuring our infrastructure, but something much more difficult: changing people’s opinion. Time and time again, I have been talking about food and meat comes up. I mention that the animal that I ate was known on a personal basis by someone, maybe had a name, maybe lead a good life before I was lucky enough to eat it. The reaction I think I’m going to get is. “Wow! I didn’t know meat animals could be someone other than a number. I think it’s really wonderful that you can eat meat that doesn’t come from immense cruelty and pain, but from animals that lived peaceful decently happy lives. Good for you.” The reaction I get is “Oh. Ummm. Ewww. I don’t think I could eat that. Why would you name it if you were going to eat it?” Why? Because by naming it I respect it. I honor it as a being worthy of being named and hopefully treat it both as an animal and as food with a great deal more respect than he or she would get in a factory farm or on the shelf at Kroger. I honor the animals I eat. I use every bit, I am grateful for their sacrifice, and I know that their lives enrich mine in a mulititude of ways. I thank the animals I eat as well as the plants, as well as the earth and the sun that have provided the sustanance for them to grow and eat. By being afraid to name your food, you distance yourself from that food. You categorize it as the Other as surely as a nazi footsoldier did with the Jew he shot. It’s easier to see the distancing with people harder with animals and plants. Our whole society is made up of ways to distance us from stuff. From meat animals, from ecosystems, from various subdivisions of other people, from pain, from reality. I think it inadvertantly distances us from life, from joy, from esctacy as well. We are numb and in pain from it.