Saturday, March 22, 2008

I Need Money

Long ago I came to the conclusion that money is a good thing to have. Money buys things, and once things are bought they can be used. It's all a great circle of lovelyness.
Here's the catch: I don't have any money. Fortunately for me there are ways of getting money using this blog. All I have to do is put adds up there and wait for several years, and eventually I'll be paid a hundred dollars. This has all been going quite well. I created an adsense account three years ago, and to date it has generated $14.33, for an average of almost two cents per blog hit. Unfortunately the payments have been going down, because my blog doesn't attract the high paying adds any more. In the following paragraph I will fix that problem.
Refinance high interest loans. You need car insurance. Search for hot singles in your area. Search for hotter singles than the singles that were previously mentioned. Search for singles that are hotter than either of the previous groups of singles, and are also guaranteed to not be transvestites, middle aged chainsaw killers, or people infested with STD's. Find true love, and while you're at it refinance those high interest loans. Remember, the fed lowered interest rates some time in the past, and while you probably haven't the foggiest notion how this affects you, it must be good.
There, now all I have to do is sit back and wait for google's bots to comb my blog. After they do that I should have adds that (obviously) pertain to the subjects discussed in my blog. High paying subjects like refinancing, and hot singles that aren't really middle aged chainsaw murderers. That means I'll go from making 7 cents per click to making 34 cents. yay! In any case google really needs to update their public service adds. Hurricane relief is kinda old now.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Ah, Crystal Clear Water

Recently my microbiology class had a water purification project. I like projects. Specifically, I like projects that involve me playing around outside class. In this particlular project I had a very bright idea: I decided that I would use one of my previous bright ideas.
My previous bright idea involved running DC current through a salt solution. This creates chlorine gas and hydrogen gas. The idea was that the chlorine would kill the germs. Simple.
I asked one of the chemistry professors what else might be generated from this reacion. He looked up at the ceiling briefly, then flipped through the general chemistry text book. He appologised for not knowing off the top of his head before explaining that the reaction would result in a basic solution. The only thing I had to worry about was creating a solution that was too basic to drink.
I returned to my dorm room. With an air of slightly rebelious adventure, I decided I would treat my (already clean) tap water with my chlorine generating apparatus, then drink only that water for an entire day. I quickly made enough of the water for this purpose. I touched a spoonful of the water to my tongue. My tongue did not fall off. I drank a small amount. It tasted like pool water, but I decided this was nothing to worry about. The solution was ok to drink.
I drank that water for the entire day. By the end of the day I was quite sick of it. It tasted awful, and was generally unpleasant. I began to wonder if someone would be able to stand drinking it long term.
The microbiology water treatment lab was successful. The testing plate for the water from my project showed no bacterial colonies. This was quite pleasing, and I began to have dreams of saving myself and my companions from dying of diarhea in some swamp using only a AA battery and a pencil.
Some time later I sat thinking. The chlorine had not bubbled out of the solution as I had originally thought it should. I tried to think of where it could have gone, and decided that it would have bonded to the OH-. This would have made ClOH. ClOH is an acid, so it would lose a hydrogen and become ClO-. NA+ was running around. Na+ and ClO- make NaOCl. NaOCl is bleach. I had drunk beach solution for an entire day.

That was smart.

That explains the constant urinating.

I canceled my heroic visions.

Side note: making a half cup of this stuff would still be good for killing the bacteria in several gallons of water, but it's probably only wise to use it in emergiency situations.

Side note side note: this is the fist post I have made in this blog that has anything whatsoever to do with chemistry.

Friday, March 07, 2008

No Title (no topic)

I woke very slowly as the tendrils of my dreams released their grip on my mind. The perfect clarity of their logic faded, and I slowly realized that vulcans had not taken over the US senate. As my mind returned to reality, I was surprised to remember that there really were no vulcans, that I could not fly, and that I wasn't incredibly wealthy after all. Concluding that reallity was a pathetic waste of time, I turned over and tried to go back to sleep.
Sleep was gone however, so I rose to greet the abysmal grey morning. A light drizzle fell outside, the kind of drizzle that promises to stay for a very, very long time. Puddles covered the road, the sidewalk, and the lawn, which had turned into a miniature version of the everglade swamps.
Looking at the clock I was pleased to see that I had risen at the early hour of ten. The dorm was quiet, save for the sound of an alarm clock buzzing several doors down. I had often wondered if there was a person in that room, or if the room belonged to the alarm clock. Surely if there was a resident of some sort the alarm would not carry on the way it did. The alarm usually started buzzing at 6:45 every morning, calling like the disembodied voice of all unheeded alarms. It would keep buzzing for several hours, going through various stages of guilt, denial and self loathing until it finally decided life wasn't worth living at around 9:00 and shut up.
Apparently the alarm also had a spring break schedule. This schedule was very much like the normal schedule, except that it began later. Hopefully the alarm would silence itself by noon.
I showered, dressed and prepared to meet the day. Looking about the room I realized that I needed to go shopping. This was very unfortunate, since the local store closed at noon every friday. Looking at the clock again I saw that it was after 11:00. I would have to hurry.
Grabbing an umbrella I left the dorm and walked across the street to the Village Market. The parking lot was full of people preparing for Sabbath. There seemed to be a great urgency among them, as if Christ was about to appear in the clouds of glory and they wanted to stock up on vegemeat while they still could.
I went inside the store and began my shopping excursion like a military operation. Specifically, I conducted it like the US occupation of Iraq. I stormed in, quickly grabbed a few items, and declared victory. Some time later I found myself bogged down in the cleaning products aisle wondering if I should or should not get a copper mesh pot scrubber.
After several changes of policy and a bit of griping about Iran, I managed to extract myself from the store and return to the dorm. Heading inside I quickly made my way to the hall kitchen, where I stored perishable items in the fridge. I contemplated writing my name on them, but concluded that this would be a futile effort. I had written my name on other items in the communal fridge before. Unfortunately this had just given low lifes the ability to taunt me with the remains of my food by stuffing empty boxes under my door with notes saying "Mmmmm! good pizza!". No, the best strategy was to consume the food as fast as possible. Male college students should be treated like bacteria: destructive and foul smelling but easily foiled by anyone with a double digit IQ and some alcohol. That and laxatives, lots of laxatives.
I pondered the laxatives. Perhaps it would be worth my time to try the idea. I could spike some of the food in the fridge with laxatives, sacrificing some of my meager resources in order to bring pain, suffering and explosive diarrhea to some already unpleasant individual. Of course, I could also put up a sign warning that some of my food contained laxatives. The latter would probably result in all of my food being dumped in the trash, which would be unfortunate.
For the moment I needed to begin the task of breakfast. Returning to my room I retrieved some cereal and a bowl. In the kitchen I poured the milk I had just purchased and commenced to eat the cereal quickly. By my third or fourth bite I noticed that this particular milk was somewhat odd. Slowing my chewing to a reasonable pace I pondered the milk. It was sour. Very sour. So sour in fact that it's texture had been affected. I quickly ran to the trash can and spat out as much of the unpleasant mess as I could. Picking up the offending container of milk I looked at the expiration date. It was two weeks away, as would be expected of newly purchased milk.
I concluded that this entire situation was the fault of the mighty retail giant across the street: the Village Market. Receipt in hand I marched back to the store, intent on getting some unspoiled milk. Halfway there I stopped to ponder the situation. Suddenly a great horror dawned upon me. I looked down at the container of milk and confirmed my suspicions. I had purchased a container of buttermilk. I sheepishly returned to the dorm.
The alarm had stopped, and the dorm had begun to awaken. The air was filled with a light hum as the students turned on their showers, stereos and gaming systems. I returned to the silence of my room and sat down to study.

The entire situation would have been much better if vulcans controlled the US senate.

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Texans

There is something within me that recoils at the thought of Texas.

I'm not sure what it is. Maybe all my bad experiences with texans have piled up until I can't help but dislike the whole state.
Tonight certainly didn't help matters. Tonight texas democrats voted for Hillary Clinton.
Something tells me that I will read this post years from now and feel a twinge of shame (assuming the world isn't engulfed in an apocolyptic, internet-ending disaster by then). Perhaps it is the fact that I have dared to stand up against the pre-destined order of things, like the people who voted for Nader. Perhaps it is simply the fact that I misspelled the word "apocalyptic".
In either case, tonight has cemented my faith in the ability of the American people to find the most radioactive crud they possibly can and make it president for eight years.
A few days ago as I clocked in for work I commented on the nearness of the democratic primaries. One of the supervisors snorted. "It doesn't matter" he said. "Clinton and Obama are both socialists. What we need is another president like Reagan." I lifted a quizzical eyebrow. I had never understood the logic of Reagan's disciples, but I had learned not to comment on it. The man continued. "Reagan made the country feel good about itself!" he said.

I pondered this, and concluded that he was right. Reagan did make the country feel good about itself. On the other hand, so did cannabis. Unfortunately for the republican faithful, Reagan has since passed on to the land where seventy-two brown eyed houri will wait upon him, eternal virgins whom he may repeatedly deflower, or whatever version of paradise it is that neocons believe in. In any case, Reagan has passed on. Weed, however, is still very much alive. Not only that, but it has a strong international influence, good trade connections, and is a favorite with many in our armed forces. Combine that with weed's ability to ease both the physical and financial pains of seniors, and you have a good presidential candidate!

Weed for president! (hey, it's better than Hillary)

"Yes, I inhaled. That was the point" -Barack Obama

In case any of my friends read this: get a grip guys it's a political statement. I've never even seen the stuff.