-squee-

I know two posts in one day is odd, but I can't help myself. H'okay. I was poking around on Photobucket the other day looking for pictures that would inspire my Muse, and I came upon a few really awesome pics. -squee-
Well, that was probably a mistake on my part, considering that now my Muse is fixated and won't cooperate with anything else I do. T_T

It's a Death Note fan-fic, if you were wondering. I might put some of it up here once I get around to typing it.

ANYHOW, here's one of the images I found. -grin- Note that I just found it. -isn't nearly that good at people-

I'm sorry, but I think they're adorable. XD Please click for the full-sized image!

There were several others, but I dun feel like pulling them up. XD One of them had a lolcat-like caption that nearly made me fall out of my chair laughing.

-falls over laughing-

We just bypassed an FBI filter today in US History.

Yup. Now we can send porn through Gaggle, the school system's email system that blocks the word anal.

Curious? I thought so.

So, Noblitt was telling me and David that Gaggle uses an FBI filter to look through the email messages and attachments. The filter scans pictures and looks for such percent of flesh tones that indicates bare skin, right?
Well, the thought occurred to me that you might be able to bypass it by putting the picture in grayscale or changing the colors. So Noblitt pulled an image of the Greek goddess Aphrodite in the nude off the 'net and inverted the colors.
Then he logged into my Gaggle account and attached the now-blue image to an email and sent it to Patrick's Gaggle.
The first one didn't go through 'cos Noblitt was a genius and said "free porn!" in the message, but the second one with just "hi" or something actually went through.

So now we know how to bypass an FBI filter and send porn. XDD

-runs in a circle-

Before I get on my whole long rant, I'll go ahead and make this clear:
We'd thought that ol' Obers was nearing the end, but then we got his meds refilled and he perked back up. So, we're gonna wait until he starts to look bad even on his medication to put him down.
And I skipped school for nothing! -dances-

ANYHOW, back to the original purpose of my blog. X_x
I was doing research for my US History essay, on the "war at home" that happened during the Vietnam War. As I was doing this, it struck me that the situation at that time is eerily similar to what's going on now with Iraq.
For example, these lyrics from a war-protest song of the time:

An' it's 1,2,3, what're we fightin' for?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn!
Next stop is Viet Nam!
An' it's 5, 6, 7, open up the Pearly Gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why,
Whoopee!
We're all gonna die!

- Country Joe, I Feel Like I'm Fixin' to Die Rag

Also, these quotes from a one of my book sources:

“One lesson of Vietnam is that intervening is much more complicated that siding with the ‘good guys’ or ‘bad guys:’ we need to give up out delusions of omnipotence… Rather than intervene on ideological grounds, humanitarian concerns would be better served if we asked: will it work? Can we make life better for the country? Is it really in our national interests?”

- Myra MacPherson

"And I think it might be wise to ask students whether a nation ought to go to war with such a sense of ambiguity about what's right and wrong."

- Tim O'Brien

Anyone with half a brain-stem can see the similarities. It's almost identical. And, at least in my opinion, it's very sad. Because really, we are repeating Vietnam over in Iraq. Losing the lives of our soldiers, shoveling money into the war, and why? Because there were WMD in Iraq?
Actually, there weren't.
Because we were afraid that the terrorists would set up another stronghold in Iraq?
Saddam hated Al Quaeda's guts!
So, must we go through another Vietnam? Another spat of having our country divided over one issue? Another Kent State?

Another quote from the same book:

"I would point out to young American boys and girls that 'it could be you.' You could be a dead Marine; a draft dodger living in Canada; a permanently disabled person in a hospital or a prison. Your life could be ruined by war. It is easy. History can just sweep you away. Events in your life can force you to think about the government and war and patriotism."

- Country Joe McDonald

And he's right. Here are my thoughts about the government and war and patriotism:
There's a state law that says teachers can't make their students stand up for the pledge. Personally, I don't.
Not because I hate my country. In fact, I admire the set of ideals upon which the United States was built, and the work of the Framers of the Constitution. I marvel at how the system has lasted this long, through so much.
But I do not love the people who are currently running the government.
If the politicians running the country were less, well, politician, then I would gladly and proudly stand up every morning and say, "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands; one nation, under God, indivisible, for liberty and for justice for all."
If it was a government run by people who were worthy of the titles they hold, I would do this. But while this poor, beautiful country of ours is in the hands of idiots, I think not.

Perhaps the coming elections hold hope for us; at least our erstwhile President cannot be reelected and there are some forward-thinking people in the forefront of the elections, but really I don't trust any of them.
Whether it's Hillary or Obama or one of the Republican candidates who gets elected, until they do something good for this country, they're the same sort of idiotic scumbag to me.
I'm sorry for those of you who happen to think differently, but this is what's going through my mind, and you'd have to do some damn good convincing to persuade me to think otherwise. Trust takes a long time to build, and is easily shattered. My trust in all politicians has been ground to dust by the last few years, and I'm not so dense as to think that everything these candidates say they'll do, they'll implement if elected. I'm not that naive.

Anyway, there's my rant for the week. -staggers off to work more on my essay-
Please pardon any typos in that, I can't spell to save my life.

It's time.

He's nothing but shaggy fur stretched over bone.
His eyes are cloudy.
His nose is dry and cracked as a riverbed in the desert.
He stinks.
But he's my dog.

He can hardly get up, much less walk, and often falls down the stairs.
The lightest nudge tips him over.
He leaves puddles and yellow spots on the floor and his bedding.
But he's my dog.

We got him thirteen, more like fourteen years ago: I still remember being chased around by him and his littermates.
The white mark on one hip that used to be shaped like a "B" for Beethoven has since become a "C." for Capehart.

And now, "Old Beethoven," is nearing the end.
We're taking him as soon as we can to the vet.
We probably should have done it a long time ago, but our hopes got the better of us.
"He's still eating well," We thought.
But enough is enough.
It's time to say good-bye.

So, Beethoven, the furry friend I've had since almost before I can remember,
my first pet, the one who's been there through good times and bad,
Good-bye.