- Yeah, that’s me, circa 1986.
- Chuck Yeager, the retired general, test pilot, and first man to break the sound barrier is 93-years old. I read an article that he’s active on Twitter and is a mix of Ron Swanson and “get off my lawn” Clint Eastwood character. For the heck of it, I tweeted at him and he actually liked the tweet. The restaurant in question was Harlow’s Smokehouse, and it’s true I used to just eat there and check out all the memorabilia in the Chuck Yeager room. And I’d like to think it’s really him tweeting (his official webpage links to the Twitter account, but who knows if it’s him actually tweeting). He last broke the sound barrier in 2012.
- If red light cameras are a thing and generate revenue for a city, I’m surprised there are speed cameras. I can’t see them being used or holding up in court if there are multiple cars on the road, but if there’s only one or a few and the car and driver can be easily identifiable, it could work. Trust me, I’m not advocating for them, I’m just surprised in today’s world they aren’t a thing.
- Tony Robbins stuff
- In that Tony Robbins documentary, it shows his morning routine. In his backyard is a very small but deep pool with 57° water. I’d say it’s probably three feet by three feet and seven feet deep, considering Robbins himself is six-foot-seven. He jumps into and it covers his head, though I don’t know how long he stays under.
- Wikipedia states he grew ten inches in high school which was later attributed to a pituitary tumor.
- That documentary also shows his heightened sensitivity towards anyone with potential suicidal tendencies at any of his conferences, what he does to monitor them, and how he assigns a person to look after them. I couldn’t tell if he’s trying to cover all bases to ward off lawsuits or if he genuinely cares. Sadly, I’m a cynic.
- I’ve spoken about my personal struggle with suicide before, and it’s still something I fight more than I’d like to admit. It’s something I don’t want to say I’ve overcome because I don’t want it to humble me, but it is something I work on every day. With that said, the best description of suicidal thoughts I’ve come across is from David Foster Wallace’s 1996 novel Infinite Jest. It’s important to note the year because it was well written before September 11, 2001.
- “The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.”
- “The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.”
- Blogger Note: I’m not trying to draw attention to myself regarding my struggles with suicide nor and I’m trying to vie for any sympathy. But as I often do, for better or worst, and for reasons I can’t adequately express in words, I like to be transparent with my struggles. Sorry for the downer, here’s a pick-me-up.
- I’ve spoken about my personal struggle with suicide before, and it’s still something I fight more than I’d like to admit. It’s something I don’t want to say I’ve overcome because I don’t want it to humble me, but it is something I work on every day. With that said, the best description of suicidal thoughts I’ve come across is from David Foster Wallace’s 1996 novel Infinite Jest. It’s important to note the year because it was well written before September 11, 2001.
- GIF – This woman’s split personality may give you a headache.
- VICE – A Danish Photographer’s Pictures of Texans
- OakCliff.AdvocateMag.com – 1950s Dallas Fort Worth Turnpike pamphlet
- Something like this won’t happen again – Once the road was paid for, it was handed over to the Texas Department of Transportation, and it later became Interstate 30.
- Wheels and tires on 48 vehicles stolen from Tyler car dealership
- Down Under News – Shirtless burglars break into school with crocodiles
- An Interactive Guide To The Evolution Of The National Mall
- Dallas’ first Shake Shack opens next week
- For the last five or seven years, I’ve had a reoccurring dream. Well, the dream isn’t reoccurring, but the theme would always be the same. I’m me and in a professional career, but I always have to go back to Hardin-Simmons University, live in the dorm, and work on completing my degree. Often, I’ll find myself struggling to adjust back to dorm life, forgetting my class schedule, and feeling unmotivated because I want to go back to my job and frustrated at the multiple semesters needed to be complete which seems beyond reach. About three months I had the same dream but it ended differently. I walked into my dorm and WifeGeeding was waiting for me and I exasperatedly explained to her how I wish I could just go back to my job and live in a house and be a real adult again. She tells me that it makes no sense that I’m back in college working on my bachelor’s when I already have an MBA, have over a decade of experience in the field I’m in, and have been hired by a company because of my knowledge and experience pertaining to my job, not my education. I woke up with a weird sense of awe, as if I was bitch-slapped by an epiphany, and haven’t had a variation of the dream since.
