<?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' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2237223538769453454</id><updated>2012-02-16T22:40:31.543-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I try.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18240337828428939222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2237223538769453454.post-5952745432461154827</id><published>2012-01-05T01:02:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T01:14:34.130-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Amusing Wikipedia Post of the Week, Hosted and Edited by Jacob V. Gardner,</title><content type='html'>My friend &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/jacobvgardner"&gt;Jake&lt;/a&gt; decided to start putting &lt;a href="http://blog.jacobvgardner.com/category/jim-wikipedia/"&gt;these&lt;/a&gt; on his &lt;a href="http://blog.jacobvgardner.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;...he has decided to take trivial information, websites, or articles I send to him and post them for his reader's—possibly "readers'—amusement (primarily from Wiki, I suppose.) I suppose that, eventually, he will start linking to this site and my twitter, seen below.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="https://twitter.com/JamesHarter" class="twitter-follow-button" count="false"&gt;Follow @JamesHarter&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script&gt;!function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0];if(!d.getElementById(id)){js=d.createElement(s);js.id=id;js.src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js";fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js,fjs);}}(document,"script","twitter-wjs");&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2237223538769453454-5952745432461154827?l=triggitytry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/feeds/5952745432461154827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-amusing-wikipedia-post-of-week.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/5952745432461154827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/5952745432461154827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-amusing-wikipedia-post-of-week.html' title='My Amusing Wikipedia Post of the Week, Hosted and Edited by Jacob V. Gardner,'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18240337828428939222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2237223538769453454.post-4130166306424365154</id><published>2011-12-28T14:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T15:05:55.671-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hat Update</title><content type='html'>I exchanged the hat today.  The manager tried to feed me this and that about how they are hand made and that is how some of them come.  Point is that for a $40 hat there should be some quality control involved and I expect an appreciable product.  He still wasn't entirely convinced that it was offset, but he let me exchange it after a minute or so of debate, possibly just to get rid of me and move on.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was doing to looking into the matter last night and had a short correspondence with Paul, who writes &lt;a href="http://ballcapblog.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Ballcap Blog&lt;/a&gt; and provided some useful info.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"&lt;span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; text-align: -webkit-auto; "&gt;Hi James,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;This is a very common problem, especially with caps made during the season such as this World Series &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;cap. The problem is mainly that the production is rushed. There was a time when (up until recently), New &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Era would repair defective caps for free, but they stopped last year. You're better off returning it. Always &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;check to make sure the seams  on the outside of the front panels are in the same place on each side of &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;the visor (brim/bill) stitching.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Hope that helps,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Paul"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2237223538769453454-4130166306424365154?l=triggitytry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/feeds/4130166306424365154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2011/12/hat-update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/4130166306424365154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/4130166306424365154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2011/12/hat-update.html' title='Hat Update'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18240337828428939222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2237223538769453454.post-5236868416957829102</id><published>2011-12-27T18:54:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T19:06:47.743-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Does this hat look messed up?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been going through some sort of ordeal trying to get the right size of a Cards hat I got for Christmas.  I wasn't expecting that I would get a fitted 59fifty, was just hoping for a $15 snap back, and got lucky.  After exchanging it for a bigger size, I decided that the guy at Lids convinced me to get one a smudge too big.  I went back and got a 7 3/8 instead of the size 7 1/2.  Now, after looking it over at home, I have decided that the brim is off center, and am trying to figure out if I should again return it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wonder if it is normal for these hats to be this much off.  Notice the how the seems on the hat line up to the seems at the left and right edge of the bill in visibly different places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7022/6584748675_eabe9928bd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7022/6584748675_eabe9928bd.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;More pics &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67747887@N05/sets/72157628597504279/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2237223538769453454-5236868416957829102?l=triggitytry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/feeds/5236868416957829102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2011/12/does-this-hat-look-messed-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/5236868416957829102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/5236868416957829102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2011/12/does-this-hat-look-messed-up.html' title='Does this hat look messed up?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18240337828428939222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2237223538769453454.post-6215411955393366257</id><published>2011-08-18T12:19:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T12:40:04.428-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JOm94tTZIIo/Tk1N9jSS--I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Pdxwo4pxv_U/s1600/IMGP6626.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JOm94tTZIIo/Tk1N9jSS--I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Pdxwo4pxv_U/s320/IMGP6626.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642251628004441058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mtQxHqrBs90/Tk1Ntqz4BBI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/QHYP25yayeE/s1600/IMGP6624.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mtQxHqrBs90/Tk1Ntqz4BBI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/QHYP25yayeE/s320/IMGP6624.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642251355146421266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ryNfQSVnEyE/Tk1LgynjUHI/AAAAAAAAAFI/b88ypYA048Y/s1600/IMGP6623.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ryNfQSVnEyE/Tk1LgynjUHI/AAAAAAAAAFI/b88ypYA048Y/s320/IMGP6623.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642248934880661618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got this bicycle last april or so, Have been riding it, it is pretty Icool and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I decided to try an experiment and make my own cotton bar tape.  I bought some strips of canvas from the fabric store and hemmed one&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-edN67vBQQ7Y/Tk1LIvyxr1I/AAAAAAAAAFA/4SokkBMn0P0/s320/IMGP6622.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642248521805573970" /&gt;side of it so it didn't frey.  The other side didn't need the hemming because it would be covered by the overlapping.  It has an old innertube under it for cushioning and has had a couple coats of shellac for protection.  It feels/rides just like the stuff you buy from the bike shop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is visibly a little poorly done here, especially with all the electrical tape.  Some of the is because I was experimenting with the multiple colors (shoulda sewn the separate colors together) and because it is a rough prototype, I'll do it right later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2237223538769453454-6215411955393366257?l=triggitytry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/feeds/6215411955393366257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-got-this-bicycle-last-april-or-so.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/6215411955393366257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/6215411955393366257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-got-this-bicycle-last-april-or-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18240337828428939222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JOm94tTZIIo/Tk1N9jSS--I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Pdxwo4pxv_U/s72-c/IMGP6626.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2237223538769453454.post-2440945651829555568</id><published>2011-08-11T23:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-11T23:18:23.538-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What I am doing now</title><content type='html'>To be honest, only using this to follow other blogs, and to still have my business cards be worth something&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2237223538769453454-2440945651829555568?l=triggitytry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/feeds/2440945651829555568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2011/08/what-i-am-doing-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/2440945651829555568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/2440945651829555568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2011/08/what-i-am-doing-now.html' title='What I am doing now'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18240337828428939222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2237223538769453454.post-2779936014293742432</id><published>2010-11-16T01:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T01:19:32.089-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's up</title><content type='html'>Over a year and two college transfers later, I log on.  I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find I have two followers of unknown origin.  Anywho, I think I'll try to do something with this over Thanksgiving break.  Maybe I'll think of something to put down; I also have ideas of some sort of creative work using recorded dialogue, but I have never claimed to be a creative type (that is very certainly a lie, though I do not currently claim to be a good creative type).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2237223538769453454-2779936014293742432?l=triggitytry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/feeds/2779936014293742432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2010/11/whats-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/2779936014293742432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/2779936014293742432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2010/11/whats-up.html' title='What&apos;s up'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18240337828428939222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2237223538769453454.post-7558283976550538818</id><published>2009-04-30T02:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T03:42:40.234-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A short discourse on Surnames</title><content type='html'>So, I was thinking earlier today, there is a whole big unknown in the world of surnames and what to do with them when you get married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traditionally, the female would take the male's last name, and her's would disappear.  There is now the rare occasion of the male taking the female's name, but the only instance I can actually thing of is the case of Jack and Meg White (divorced), of the White Stripes.  Now, if everyone is all good for this idea, I suppose there is no problem, but it really isn't an equal practice either way.  It also raises a question for gay couples, as that method really has no method for deducing who's name should be kept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A solution to this would be for both parties to retain their names, but it would raise quite a bit of a questions in regards to any children and who's name would be passed down the line.  I feel that it would also take away from the whole marriage ordeal.  It would belittle the connection that is supposed to be established between two people who are one family committed to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One could solve the child problem by hyphenating the parents surnames, and for that matter, there names could be hyphenated as well.  Unfortunately in the long run, it may turn out itself a bit of a problem.  If the tradition were kept, generations (or possibly divorces) down the line there would be lengthy, impractical names.  I imagine surnames with over 10 hyphens in them in no time at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a solution, I propose a portmanteau of the two parties name.  That is, a blending of the two names into one word.  For example, if the the two persons joining in marriage had the last names Jackson and Smith, perhaps the new surname could be Jacksmith.  If the names were Cooper and Carlton, then the new name would be something like Coopton, Toner, or Carlter.  The end result would largely depend upon taste and aesthetics, but the point would be that it would create a shorter and unique union between those two people.  Their children could take it on, and incorporate it with their spouse's surname if they were to get married, and it would be completely fair an equal to both parties, by sacrificing a little bit of each other for each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. that last line was a very cheesy, but you're going to have to deal with that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2237223538769453454-7558283976550538818?l=triggitytry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/feeds/7558283976550538818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2009/04/surnames.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/7558283976550538818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/7558283976550538818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2009/04/surnames.html' title='A short discourse on Surnames'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18240337828428939222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2237223538769453454.post-4292893556387265925</id><published>2009-04-12T22:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T22:46:11.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is a Dream I Had</title><content type='html'>I am at the top of a long concrete slope, with walls on the side.  It is filled with water at the bottom, like a giant wave pool.  We are fishing, my dad and I and somebody else.  The winds are blowing so hard, this way, and then that, that we have to hold on to keep from being swept away.  Waterspouts form at the other end of the concrete device.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My dad does not hold on to anything one time, and he is swept into the air, to a great height, and falls into the pool.  I fear he has injured his head or drowned, and I rush to him.  I perform CPR and he is OK, and then I have to run away.  I do not know why, but I know I must.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I run through the underground corridors of a movie theater, trying to find the end.  I am being led by someone, I do not remember who.  Perhaps Patrick or Bradley.  They say we are being watched and must be secret about our flight.  We go a ways, and then we go up stairs.  I separate from my leader, to investigate a room.  I creak the door open, and there appear to be people inside, watching an array of screens that connect to security cameras elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I close the door and turn back, and my leader is gone.  I am in a lobby of sorts, and there is a small TV, and I see that there is a person on it, looking at me.  I then see that there is a camera next to it pointing at me.  They can see me.  The TV then changes, and I now see people I know.  It changes every few seconds, each time showing people I know.  It is friends or family.  They can see me too, and are humored, and excited.  Confetti falls, and friends and family come through doors, and it is my birthday.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I am happy, and everyone else is too.  They all have presents and food, and there is a very small and elaborate cake-the size of a muffin-for me.  I then wake up, I am in my Grandma's house, it is not my birthday, and I have no candy...I am somewhat disapointed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2237223538769453454-4292893556387265925?l=triggitytry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/feeds/4292893556387265925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-dream-i-had.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/4292893556387265925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/4292893556387265925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-dream-i-had.html' title='This is a Dream I Had'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18240337828428939222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2237223538769453454.post-8507319071791256228</id><published>2009-04-05T04:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T01:49:02.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Man Who Had Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;  &lt;!--   @page { margin: 0.79in }   P { margin-bottom: 0.08in }  --&gt;  &lt;/style&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;There was a man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;He had nothing, and he wasn't very happy about that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt; There were other men, of course.  The man saw that there were many men who had nothing, and most if them weren't happy either.  Except for Tim.  Tim had nothing and he didn't seem concerned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt; The man also saw many people who had something, and some people who had many somethings.  The man saw that the more somethings people had, the happier they were.  He wanted dearly to have something for himself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt; One day, the man met God.  He had many questions for God, but he found he couldn't speak, and God had only one question for the man, so their conversation was short.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;God asked, “Why do you want something so bad?  What will it bring you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;It will bring me freedom,” said the man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;Very well.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;And then the man had everything. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt; He was thrilled.  The man spent days with his things, but soon he became bore with just things, so he went to visit the other men with many things.  Many of the other men with many things were to busy trying to get more things to meet the man, and many were distrustful of the man with everything, so they turned him away from their homes, afraid that he might get their things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt; The man with everything then turned to the people that had only some things.  They were grateful that he bid them welcome, and had many fine days with him, but soon they grew tired of his splendor, as it made them feel like those that had nothing.  They also had to work to maintain their somethings and to feed their families, so they no longer visited the man with everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt; The man, thinking of his old friends with nothing, thought it grand to share his good fortune with them.  He invited them to come share in his splendor with him, and all the men with nothing came.  Except for Tim.  They stayed with the man for many days, until the man realized that the people with nothing were stealing some of his everything.  He threw them out, afraid of losing anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt; The man was frustrated with the world.  He did not have the freedom he though he wanted.  He began to believe that nobody was happy.  Then he remembered Tim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;So the man went to Tim and asked him.  “Are you happy?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;Yes.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;But you have nothing.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;And I need nothing.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;“&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;Then why are you happy.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt; “&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;Because I am.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt; The man wasn't sure he understood Tim, but he did know that being Tim would not make him happy.  The man spent the next 10 days thinking alone.  When he came out of his house, he had decided that having freedom wouldn't make him happy, and neither would having everything.  He decided that he would try having only something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt; He gave all his things away, except for some, and found a smaller house.  For three days there was anarchy as his old mansion was raided, but then everything that he had given away had turned into nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt; The man got a job to make sure he didn't run out of something, and began to make friends with the other people who had something.  Some of them wanted more things and weren't happy, but some of them were OK with having only something.  He was comfortable with something.  He met a girl with something and he was content.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt; He sometimes wanted more, but everyone always does, and in the end, the man supposed that he might even be happy, if anyone ever really is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2237223538769453454-8507319071791256228?l=triggitytry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/feeds/8507319071791256228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2009/04/man-who-had-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/8507319071791256228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/8507319071791256228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2009/04/man-who-had-things.html' title='The Man Who Had Things'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18240337828428939222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2237223538769453454.post-7204715297883076038</id><published>2009-04-05T03:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T03:51:35.651-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah.</title><content type='html'>This is a blog of stuff I want to say or put up or something.  I tried this other blog with some people from my dorm, but they never updated, so I stopped too.  It lasted about three months.  I don't much expect anybody to ever be aware of this things existence, but I wanted to put this up anyways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2237223538769453454-7204715297883076038?l=triggitytry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/feeds/7204715297883076038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2009/04/yeah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/7204715297883076038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2237223538769453454/posts/default/7204715297883076038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triggitytry.blogspot.com/2009/04/yeah.html' title='Yeah.'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18240337828428939222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
