In the Pilot's Seat

I got to land the Shuttle yesterday. Well, the motion-based simulator anyway. I landed on the runway and didn’t crash or anything, so if this futurist thing doesn’t work out, I have a back up plan. I’d just have to lose, like, 200 pounds.

Not Crashing

Lord I’m an ugly cuss, though. Don’t usually post pictures of myself on this site. Good thing most of my self-esteem is not tied up into how I look. Yeah, it’s all charm, brains, and sense of humor. Totally. Heh.

When I look at myself in pictures, I thank God for sending me a woman who sees past my outsides and loves my insides. And I didn’t crash the shuttle. So I have those things going for me.


“The problem is that territorial behaviors weren’t designed for the 21st century. Instead of leading to increased power, resources, food or mate prospects, they often result in conflict, court bills, injury and death. That’s because territorial overreaction, say experts, has outlived its usefulness in the post-hunter-gatherer world.”

This story about road rage is yet more reinforcement for my theory that our brains are built on an outdated, prehistoric operating system. Jesus, Buddha, and other proponents of spiritual practices that transcend our animal desires offered upgrades. Wish it was as simple as an easy download.

So, How's Work?

Reading I
Jb 7:1-4, 6-7

Job spoke, saying:
Is not man’s life on earth a drudgery?
Are not his days those of hirelings?
He is a slave who longs for the shade,
a hireling who waits for his wages.
So I have been assigned months of misery,
and troubled nights have been allotted to me.
If in bed I say, “When shall I arise?”
then the night drags on;
I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.
My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle;
they come to an end without hope.
Remember that my life is like the wind;
I shall not see happiness again.

This Sunday’s first reading kind of fits my mood about work right now. I’ll get over it.