Roasted Chicken

Ingredients

3 chicken breasts, 1 lb each
9 cloves crushed garlic
canola oil
Poultry Magic (from Chef Paul Prudhomme)



Directions

1.  Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

2.  Line a roasting pan with foil (to save yourself cleaning it later on.)

3.  Place the chicken breasts on top of the crushed garlic.

4.  Rub each breast with canola oil, the oil will help the skin crisp up, and sprinkle the Poultry Magic on as heavily as you desire.

5.  Place the pan in the center of the oven and bake for 55 minutes.

Now, I know that this seems very simple, but sometimes the easiest dishes elude so many of us.
If anyone tries this, or any of the other recipes here, please let me know. I'm interested to see what other people think.

The Keys to the Kingdom: Mister Monday

I am currently reading Lord Sunday, Book 7 from Garth Nix's series The Keys to the Kingdom. I am just about finished with it and thought I would write a small review of the story. But then, I realized that I would be talking about characters and converging plot lines that have roots in other books. So, instead, I shall be reviewing the series starting with Book 1. Yay! Or Boo, I suppose, depending on whether or not you like books.

The first book in the series is titled Mister Monday. In this book, we meet Arthur Penhaligon, a seventh grade student who has just moved to a new school and is asthmatic.  During a severe asthma attack, he sees an odd pair of men appear. One of them, Mister Monday, gives him a metal Key shaped like the minute hand of a clock, and disappears. From that point on, Arthur's life becomes irrevocably changed.

Using the power of his Key, Arthur enters The House, a conglomeration of buildings that exists in another dimension. There, he discovers the Architect of the Universe has disappeared, and the seven trustees she chose to keep track of everything have been warped by their responsibilities. Mister Monday, the Trustee of the Lower House, has been affected by sloth, and as such, has allowed his portion of the House to become mismanaged and the records he stores disorganized.

While Arthur dodges the minions of Mister Monday, who wants Arthur's portion of the Key back, he meets friends such as Suzy Turquoise Blue, a human girl trapped in the House, and Part One of the Will, a portion of The Will of the Architect which spelled out the duties of the Trustees.

With these two companions, Arthur moves about the House getting closer and closer to Mister Monday in an attempt to wrest away the Hour Hand portion of Monday's Key so that he can take control of the Lower House and force the denizens who live there to leave him alone.

The story, and series, features magic, sword play, the seven deadly sins, time travel, friendship, and the theme of responsibility.

I currently have about 850 books in my possession and can honestly say that this series is one of my favorites. If you enjoy well written fantasy, I think you will find this book a lot of fun.

Arsenic and Old Lace

Have I ever related to you the story of how I was almost poisoned by a crazy lady? Now, I don't mean poisoned as in she accidentally gave me old milk; I mean, I know that she intentionally gave me something laced with poison with the intention to kill me.


No, you haven't heard it? Excellent. Then allow me to explain.


Her name was Oralia Silva. (Well no, it actually wasn't, but I am sure you understand that I can't put her real name here, liable and all that, but this name has the same ethnicity and syllables.) She was a small woman standing at about 5' 2' or so, had short black hair, and brown eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled. And I am pretty sure that she lived alone in a house made of gingerbread and candy.


I met her in the summer of '95 when I was working on a special project away from my normal building and coworkers. In fact, there were about 20 of us that had been selected from across the company as being good at what we did and, therefore, perfect for this assignment. We were given temporary workplaces in areas that normally housed other people, but who happened to be away on vacations. Their equipment, desks, etc. were all secured, naturally, but we still had access to most of what we needed. It just so happened that the area I was in was usually occupied by a friend of mine, so he had given me his keys and access codes so that I could use his equipment and materials if I needed. A blessing, you say, since I had access to everything while my temporary coworkers had to do without? Not exactly, for this is how my battles with Oralia Silva began.


It was the first day of our new assignment and I was sitting at my desk trying to map out everything I had to do over the next 4 weeks. I had already taken a couple of simple pieces of equipment out in preparation of a presentation I was going to give the next day. My head was down and I was completely focused on the task at hand when my concentration was broken by my door opening and closing. I looked up to see Oralia Silva standing in my room with a huge smile on her face. Though she was facing me, her eyes were darting about the room, looking at the materials I had out.


Now, I had only met her very briefly that morning and, must admit, I was not impressed. But there you are. I wasn't in charge of hiring.


"Can I help you, Ms. Silva?" I asked. I would like to say that I addressed her politely, but the truth is she was bothering me and I made no secret of that fact.


"Maaaaaaaandragore," she said. (Not my real name, but the syllables are the same.)


"Yes?" I asked again.


"I don't have one of those transparency machines," she said.


"Transparency machines?" I asked. "You mean the machines that make transparencies? You make them in the photocopier," I said with more than a bit of exasperation in my voice. (I fear I was rather impatient in my younger days.)


"No," she pouted. "The transparency machines!" she said more loudly, as if that would help me understand her gibberish. "The machine that shows the transparencies!"


Suddenly, I understood what she meant. "You mean the overhead projector? This belongs to my colleague, and he left it out for me to use."


"Well, I want one of those," she said, smiling that weird smile of hers again. I swear, she looked like a toad when she smiled, her thin-lipped mouth wide and glistening with slime. She also had the habit of nodding her head after asking for something, as if her actions could will me to nod in assent along with her. It truly was a disconcerting sight.


"I am afraid I can't help you, Ms. Silva," I answered, and I went back to my notes. She stood there silently for a moment or so before saying, "Mandragore, I am talking to you," in a soft voice.


Cringing inwardly, I slapped my mechanical pencil down on my desk, swiveled towards her in  my chair, and said, "What is it you need, Ms. Silva?" in a friendly voice dripping with insincerity.


She quite correctly took offense at my cheek and said, "Well, nothing now," and flounced out of my room.


These ridiculous conversations went on and on for the entire four weeks we worked together, with her continuously asking for supplies, both big and small, because she went completely unprepared. Pencils, erasers for the electronic display board, transparency sheets, books, the overhead, etc. She wanted it all and got nothing from me. And each time she asked, she had that odd smile on her face, her head bobbing  hypnotically.


Well, it was the last day we were together. I had one last presentation to give before I could pack up my materials and go back to my normal routine and was looking forward to never seeing that place or those people again. Just as I was about to walk out of my door, in come Ms. Silva, a huge grin on her face.


"Maaaaaaaandragore," she said, he black eyes glinting, "I made you a breakfast taco."


"A taco?" I asked. I have to admit that I was rather thrown by this unexpected and unwelcomed gesture.


"Yes, a taco," she said, smiling and nodding like a possessed bobblehead. "I made you egg with chili," she continued as she unwrapped a foil packet. I could see that there were two tacos inside.


"Well, that was very nice of you, Ms. Silva," I answered and reached for the taco closest to me.


"No, not that one," she said as she jerked her hand back. She turned the packet around so that the other taco was now closest to me and said, "This one."


Immediately, my paranoid self reared its head, whispering to me to run, and run fast.


"Um, ok," I said as I reached for the indicated breakfast taco.


She smiled happily, said that I was welcome, and left my room.


I took a bite out of the taco and my mouth was immediately assailed by a hot numbness like I had never felt before. I spit the food out of my mouth and opened the tortilla to see what was inside. There on the tortilla was a pile of egg covered in an oddly green sauce. Now, as a Hispanic, I have seen, made, and eaten a variety or salsas, but this concoction was new to me. I sniffed it. There was a spicy sourness to the salsa but nothing that screamed of danger. But let's be serious, what exactly does poison smell like? So, I threw the taco in the trash and continued what I was doing.


About a half hour later, she tracked me down, her mouth stretched wide in her typical grin.


"Did you eat it? Did you eat the whole thing?" she asked as her head nodded up and down faster than usual. I can only assume it was due to the thrill of a kill.


"Yes. Yes, I did," I lied. "It was good."


And then she sort of hopped up and down and clapped her hands. "Oh good," she trilled, and rushed off. I can only assume it was to stoke the flames in her oven back at the Gingerbread Homestead.


I managed to evade her the rest of the day, and when I was finally able to leave, I grabbed my box of materials and got out of there as fast as I could.


I told my coworkers about what had happened, but they only laughed at my telling and retelling of the story (I have a tendency to embellish stories to make them funnier, you see) and refused to believe that my life was ever in danger.


However, let me just warn you now. If you ever meet up with a small Hispanic woman named Oralia who offers you green sauced tacos, I suggest you run, and run fast.

A New Beginning

First of all, let me say that I apologize to everyone for my rambling posts lately. I've allowed my current personal difficulties to completely overtake my thoughts, and this has translated to nastiness. It doesn't help any that I've also returned to settling my nerves with alcohol in the evenings.

So, I am going to spend the day restructuring Sine Logicum, deleting all the weirdness and most of the picture posts. I want to return to fun and food, focusing on simple short stories, book discussions, and recipes that people can try.

After all, I started this blog originally as a means to take my mind off of my troubles, not a place to air them. Thanks to everyone for sticking around, you can look forward to some better stuff here.

Dr M

Dinner with the Doc

Fettuccine with chicken and mushrooms in a mushroom cream sauce

Monsters in the Air

There are monsters in the air tonight. I can feel them peering in the windows and can sense them scratching at the wooden doors, the sound just beyond my hearing, but felt in my bones. Though I can't see them, I know they are there.

Some of them are well known to me, souls I have disappointed, their spirits returning to remind me that I am lost. Others are the echos of promises I have failed to keep, responsibilities I let fall by the wayside. Others are shadows of loved ones staring at me, though I cannot see them in return. I can feel their displeasure, the heat of their anger, the chill of their scorn. Perhaps most frightening to me are the shadows in the air because I don't know what they are. They follow me around. I catch brief glimpses of them out of the corner of my eye. They dart in and out of rooms. They even leave peculiar scents in the air, making me aware of their presence with the smell of smoke. I can move to another area of the house, but within moments, the acrid smell returns. Though I can't see them, the stench of smoke is, and I know they are there.

But what are they? Who are they? What do they want with me?

I can't help but think that these are not from my past or my present, as the other monsters are, but represent something from the future. Perhaps they are tormentors yet to be met, the chains and bars that will be holding me back, locking me away from happiness and freedom, the doubt and hatred that will be cast my way to warp me beyond recognition. Or perhaps they are shadows of myself come back in time to find me, their gold to make me aware that my future will be filled with the destruction of all I hold dear, leaving behind the stench of burnt dreams and aspirations. For, though I am hoping for the best, deep down, I know that I will not travel this path unscathed.

The shadows flit about me, the door almost vibrates ever so slightly, and the unseen eyes almost glitter at the windows.

There are monsters in the air tonight, and I don't now how to dispel them. Does anyone?

Dinner with the Doc

Oven roasted chicken

garlic mashed potatoes

seasoned and buttered broccoli

homemade biscuits

Dinner with the Doc

For want of a real post, here is what I made for dinner tonight.

Short ribs braised in red wine and garlic

mashed potatoes

creamed spinach

Lechuza

Do any of you guys believe in the supernatural? Ghosts, spirits, witches: stories of such exist in every single culture, both extant and extinct. Some of these legends and phenomena have become so widespread that the entire world is aware of them. Who is not familiar with stories detailing ghosts who haunt a beloved home or heard of the "evil eye"? Then there are the lesser known tales, stories that circulate only within a community and never gain a widespread audience. One such tale is the legend of the lechuza.

Here in South Texas, there is no one who has not heard of the lechuza, a witch who travels at night in the form of a large owl. The witch, or bruja, is always a practitioner of evil magic and flies about to cause mischief. Some people say that she hunts unfaithful men, others say that she is looking for unprotected children to steal. Either way, her intentions are never good. Should a lechuza sit outside of a home, the inhabitants will have sickness or death befall them. Vehicles traveling at night will suddenly lose power as an owl flies past, a sure sign that the owl was actually a shape-shifted witch.

You can imagine that, given these stories, South Texans are afraid of owls. I have a friend, well, more of an acquaintance at this point I suppose, who swears that he saw a lechuza when he was a boy. According to him, he was walking home one night from visiting a neighborhood friend. The sun had already set that night, but he says that he wasn't worried. His neighborhood was very quiet and safe. Just as he was about to cross to the next block, he noticed a large number of crows sitting in the trees all around him. His eyes scanned the trees in disbelief at the sheer mass of birds. He was used to seeing the grackles since they were always to be found on his side of town, but still, there were simply more than he had ever seen at one time. And then he saw it.

Sitting right in the middle of the mass of black birds was a large owl. Now, that was definitely not something he had ever seen. Grackles avoided owls at all costs since the larger birds frequently made meals out of the black feathered birds. An owl sitting with grackles was not natural. He says that as soon as he spotted the owl, its eyes fixed upon him and wouldn't look away. Feeling a shiver of warning run down his back, he took off as fast as he could, running past the mass of birds towards home. As he passed the unnaturally still birds, they exploded into the air and began to shadow his steps until he got to his porch. He told his parents what had happened, but when then went outside to check, there were no birds to be seen. He swears the owl was actually a lechuza, the grackles her familiars.

Though you might consider the legend to be fun, there is a downside to this belief in the lechuza. Owls are not safe in South Texas. There are many people who will shoot at any owl they see, afraid that it is, if not an actual bruja, at the least, a harbinger of doom. And though this happens more in the country than in the cities, the fact that South Texas is primarily country is not a good thing for the owls.

 

Dragonflies

I have always loved looking at dragonflies. When I was a child, my older sister and I would make the short walk to a creek that ran near our house and sit on the steeply sloped banks. She would remove her shoes and put her feet in the water. I, being the panicky germ-o-phobe, would leave my shoes on, but would sit next to her on the grass.

The water wasn't very deep, and we could see the bottom of the creek, the rounded stones, the strange little lobster-like creatures that I later found out were called crawdads. I remember there being a thick tall grass that grew in the water and along the banks. I am certain they weren't cattails, but they were very similar. We had to be wary of the tall stalks; the edges of the leaves tended to be rather sharp and would slice through the skin of our hands if we weren't careful.

In my mind's eye, I can still see the colorful dragonflies flitting in and out of the tall grass , buzzing and darting about, rarely settling anywhere for long, but providing flashes of color and excitement to the creek that was otherwise various shades of green. At times, they would even seem to land on the surface of the water, though I suppose they were simply hovering.

The creek no longer runs past my parents' home. The city has since dug it up and paved it over with concrete. Instead of a living ecosystem, the small creek has been converted into a drainage area for rainwater. For a while after the improvements were completed, the dragonflies would still hang around the area, sometimes coming into my parents' yard looking for water. But I haven't seen one now for years.

I Must Live My Favors

I must live all the favors God has given me today. A favor cannot be saved. There is no bank where one can deposit favors received, to be used in accordance with our will. If I do not make the most of these blessings, I shall lose them forever.

God knows that we are artists of life. One day he gives us a chisel for sculptures, another brushes and canvas, another a quill to write with. But we will never succeed in using chisels on canvas, or quills on sculptures. Each day has its own miracle. I must accept the blessings of today, to create what is mine; if I do this without objectivity and without guilt, tomorrow I shall receive more.

Excerpt from Warrior of the Light, Volume 1

by Paulo Coelho

found for free at Freebooks

*****

Each of us is blessed with gifts, gifts which can take many different forms: athleticism, intelligence, a sense of humor, or luck. The question is, what are we to do with them?

The warrior of light knows that he has been given gifts today to be used today. You might say that each of us must be a channel for blessings. As we receive, so must we pass on. As to how we are to use our gifts, I couldn't say because each person has their own destiny, their own strengths. All I can say for certain is that you must know yourself, recognize what your blessings are, and use them accordingly. Very vague words, I realize, but each person's path is their own. 

Creamed Rice or Rice Pudding

Ingredients

1 cup rice
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup milk
1 cup water
2 tbsp butter
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla
pinch of salt


Directions

1. Add the heavy cream, milk, water, and butter to a pot and heat until steam begin to rise.
2. Add in the rice and salt to the liquid and bring to a light boil. Stir rice continuously until it is tender and the liquid has thickened.
3. Add in the brown sugar and vanilla. Stir to dissolve all of the sugar and remove from the heat.

Variations:
1. You can add in dried fruit, such as raisins or cranberries, when you first put in the rice.
2. You can also add fresh fruit on top of the cooked rice pudding. I added a few pieces of banana in the picture above.
3. You can add 1 tsp of cocoa powder to give the pudding a light chocolate flavor as I did in the pudding above.

Qualities of a Warrior

The warrior of light has the qualities of a rock.


When he is on flat terrain, when all around has found harmony, he remains stable. People may build houses upon that which he created, because the storm will not be destructive.


When, however, he is placed on uneven terrain, and things around him do not show any respect or equilibrium for his work, he reveals his strength, rolling towards the enemy which threatens peace. At such times, the warrior is devastating, and no one can detain him.


A warrior of the light thinks of war and peace at the same time, and knows how to act according to the circumstances.

excerpt from Warrior of the Light

by Paulo Coelho

found as a free download at Freebooks

Creamed Corn

Ingredients:

2 1/2 cups of frozen sweet corn

1 1/2 tbs minced onion

2 tbs butter or Smart Balance spread

approx 1 1/2 - 2 cups milk, or half and half, or cream

1 tsp all purpose seasoning (I like Paul Prudhomme's Vegetable Magic)

3-4 tsps corn starch

salt and pepper to taste

Directions:

1.  Melt butter in a pot and saute the onions until transluscent.

2.  Once the onion is translucent, add in the frozen corn and cook for a few minutes until all excess water is evaporated..

3.  Add in enough cream/milk/half and half to cover the corn completely. Bring to a boil.

4.  Add in the Vegetable Magic/all purpose seasoning. Add in salt and pepper to taste.

5.  Dissolve the corn starch into milk and add it slowly into the corn. Be sure to watch the thickness of the creamed corn. Too much corn starch will cause the milk/cream to clump up and become too tight. No one likes gloppy corn.

6.  The cream should be thick enough to coat the corn but should not look like library paste either.

Properly made creamed corn should be sweet, well seasoned, and luscious. I recommend real butter, half and half, and the Vegetable Magic to achieve that, but as always, to each his own.

Of Trees and Towns

In the Mojave desert one often comes across the notorious ghost towns: constructed near gold mines, they were abandoned once all the gold had been extracted from the earth. They played their part and it made no sense to continue to inhabit them.

When we walk through a forest, we also see trees which, once they have played their part, fall down. But unlike the ghost towns, what has happened? They have opened up space for light to penetrate, fertilize the soil, and their trunks are covered with new vegetation.

Our old age will depend on the way in which we live. We can end up like a ghost town. Or like a generous tree, which continues to be important, even after it has fallen to the ground.

excerpt from Warrior of the Light

by Paulo Coelho

found for free at Feedbooks

*****

You reap what you sow.

Haven't we all heard that before? If you spread good will and kindness, then good will and kindness will make its way back to your heart. But if you spread nastiness and evil around you, then that too will be what winds up on your doorstep.

Coelho suggests in this story that we have a choice as to what sort of life we will build during our time on earth. We can build a structure that is designed only to last for the moment, to serve our immediate needs and desires, and that will wither away through disuse once that transient need has been satisfied. Or, we can build a structure that serves a purpose far greater than our own, a purpose that not only meets our needs, but the needs of those around us. I suppose you could say that the difference is between choosing to be selfish and choosing to belong to something larger than yourself.

Which choice is the right one? Contrary to what most people would say, I don't believe that there is a right choice, there is simply a choice. You can choose to devote your life to doing things for yourself, meeting your own needs and desires, and having a blast all the while. I see nothing wrong with that. However, there are those who choose to devote their lives to doing things for others, helping others to meet their needs, and also having a grand time all the while. There is nothing that says to help meet the needs of others, you must suppress and ignore your own needs and desires. You can have both, you know.

That is the choice made by a Warrior of the Light. Help yourself. Help others. Leaving a legacy behind you such as a large corporation or larger bank account would be nice, but more to the point, why not do things in the present that help people now. No one suggested that we have to leave behind a marble palace for everyone to marvel at; no one said that we each must have our profiles carved on stone. What about simply doing your best in all things, giving others around you a hand up when they need one. Their success becomes your success. Finally, when we are gone from this world, there will still be others who were propped up by our example, and so it goes. Our actions today will continue to resound in the future, not because we did something amazing, but because we lived well.

Or you can leave a shell of a town behind that no longer serves any purpose.

The choice is yours.

The Warrior of Light

I have not been posting much lately, or at least, posting much of anything that is remotely interesting, or novel, or original. I fear that fear has taken over my mind and I am quite unable to focus on much of anything other than my uncertain future, one that could very well end up with my life, such as it is, coming to an abrupt end. No, I don't mean that I will be killed off in some dramatic vein, like some cheap and tawdry soap opera character, but rather, my future being dictated to me by agencies and offices, my own plans and desires no longer being of any matter whatsoever.

I have been trying to gather my own inner strength by focusing on what I know I have accomplished in my life before now, on the many people I have helped, and the fact that many many untrue things have been said about me, all of which has been of little practical help, to be honest, but there you are. (Holy crap, that is one insanely long sentence; I will let it stand, though.) I have also taken refuge in my strong faith, some of which I have shared here in previous posts, faith that has no relationship to religion, please recall, but even that seems of limited value in the face of what I am having to contend with at the moment. By the way, I apologize for not going into detail about what those problems are, but my two (expensive) lawyers have instructed me to say nothing to anyone about the matter. Let that be a suggestion of what I am going through.

In previous posts, I have shared with you messages that I believe have been from the Divine. Call it what you will: God, Allah, Yahweh, the Cosmic Consciousness, Mother Nature, or Zeus. It doesn't really matter to me in the least. Some of the messages came from a book titled God Calling, edited by RJ Russell. Some of the messages were given to me directly through a friend of mind who has always had contact with spirits. During the time she spent with me, I would see her grab a pencil and begin to scribble down words on a page that were directed to me, words that I know could not have come from her.

The book that I have been reading lately, and which is helping me to wrestle with my own fear and worry is titled Warrior of Light, by Paulo Coelho. Prior to my current problems, I had already discovered Coelho's writings through books such as The Alchemist and The Devil and Miss Prym. I have recently discovered a book that is a collection of anecdotes and tales that he has previously published through his blog, his Facebook, and his MySpace, titled Warrior of the Light. I have found, if not inspiration, at least words of strength in its pages.

The book is partly an account of his travels through the world in search for enlightenment and partly retold stories he has collected along the way that illustrate what he learned. The book was available for free through Feedbooks, so I am assuming there is no problem with my reposting portions of the book here, with suitable credit.

So, for the next few days, there will be an anecdote posted here with a message behind it, a message that is meant as an object lesson for those seeking something beyond themselves. Call it wisdom, call it insight, call it truth. I am certainly not qualified to tell you what it is. I only know that the stories have struck a chord within me, as being, if not a path to become a warrior of the light, to at least finding a path to understanding and personal strength.

I hope you enjoy them. I hope you get something out of them. And if not, feel free to move along to the gay porn blogs. You won't hurt my feelings.

We Are All Responsible

A group of men came along the street; heavily armed soldiers leading a condemned man to the gallows.

"That man is no good," said a disciple to Nasrudin. "I once gave him a silver coin in order to help him start his life afresh, and he did nothing important."

"He may be no good, but perhaps he is now on his way to the gallows because of you," argued the master. "Perhaps he used the alms in order to buy a dagger, which he then used in committing his crime-because instead of helping him with love and care, you chose to give him alms in order to release yourself from your obligation."

an excerpt from Warrior of the Light

by Paulo Coelho

found as a free download through Stanza

*****

Mullah Nasrudin, Coelho explains, is the central figure in many of the anecdotal stories told in the Sufi ( the mystical sect of Islam) tradition. Much like the figure of Socrates in the Platonic Dialogues, Nasrudin delivers wisdom to his pupils, or disciples, through stories and cautionary tales.

I happen to like this particular story because giving money as a means of assuaging my need to help others was very much my modus operandi during the days I actually had money to give away. You name a charity, and I gave to it. Come the annual United Way campaign, I was the first one to fill out the gift form and turn it in, proudly wearing my stupid little plastic pin that proclaimed, "Look at me! I am generous and caring towards those less fortunate than myself!"

Every Christmas, when it was time to sign up to purchase gifts to donate to a child in need, my name was first and last on the list. To paraphrase the orphan kid from Pee Wee's Big Adventure who had just been adopted, "I want to give, sister!" And after turning in my tastefully wrapped and overly priced packages, promptly forgot about the families I had just donated to and wandered off to the mall to buy a gift for me.

Church raffles, church donations, Girl Scouts, candy bar sales, I did it all, patting myself on the back for "helping".

But was I really?

Were money and expensive items really going to help anyone? Sure, you could argue that the governing bodies that I had donated to would make sure the money did some good for the right people. But I think Nasrudin is suggesting that we each have an obligation. Not a monetary obligation, or a legal obligation, but rather, a moral one. A human one.

If a person who is in need appears in our lives, Nasrudin is saying that we need to care about them, love them, help them in a real sense. This very much goes against what we in our Western Civilization believe. Our culture says that each man is responsible for himself. If a man is struggling, it's because he isn't working hard enough. It's his own fault that his needs aren't being met, so tough luck. I have mine, and it's not my problem that you don't have yours. Move along.

The Sufi mystics have a far different philosophy. Each of us has the ability to make a difference in lives around us. So, what will each of us do?

Flick a coin at them and declare, "Hit the road," a la Bugs Bunny? Or be a channel for love and concern?

Fanboy Geekout

I have to admit that for several days now, I have been looking forward to Apple CEO Steve Jobs' Major Announcement scheduled for today. Everyone was speculating that he would be unveiling the, heretofore shrouded in secrecy, Apple iPad. And he did! Yay!

Of course, due to my horrible insomnia, I didn't fall asleep last "night" until 6:15 AM today, and so, slept through the live announcement which was being carried live by Gizmodo. Oh well......

As soon as I arose from my crypt, I hopped online to see what was out there and immediately upon seeing the iPad, decided that I needed one in my life. Not want one, mind you, but need one, as in all of the mitochondria in my body would stop functioning simultaneously, causing me to drop immediately into a coma and pass away unless I have one in my hand. Not that that would be a bad thing, mind you.

 

 Once I managed to shrug off the fuzziness brought on by several days of sleep deprivation, however, my fanboy reaction was tempered by the fact that I was just looking at a big iPhone. It does the same things that an iPhone does, it doesn't do anything that an iPhone cannot do, and costs at a minimum, $500.

To make sure that I wasn't just bagging on the iPad as a result of dementia, depression, or a case of bad gas (phfffffft........pardon me...) I surfed around to see what other people were saying. I found a well done article that had a pros/cons list which summarized my initial impressions succinctly. And so, I thought I would share it. The excerpt came from here.

*****

Pros:

• Interface is extremely similar to the iPhone/iPod Touch.  This means that most of the 50 million odd owners of one of these devices should be able to pick it up and go.
• The App Store is the iPad’s single biggest strength.  No company has a finer base of programs (or nearly as many) available to its end users.  Apparently 140,000 or so of those App Store programs will be able to be loaded up right away on the upcoming iPad.
• Large screen.  In fact, its 10 inches makes it larger than most netbook screens, portable DVD players and mobile video game players
• 10 hour battery life is pretty decent.
• Big developer buy-in – It was good to see both Gameloft and EA demo their stuff during today’s presentation
• Ability to read books, newspapers and magazines in a simple format.
• Built in speaker and microphone

Cons:

• No multitasking.  In fact, its Safari browser seemingly doesn’t support multiple websites being pulled up
• No flash.  Flash is a major part of the web.  Without it being included, you will likely be missing a lot.
• No removable battery.  When it dies completely, so does the iPad.
• It’s too big to easily carry in one hand.  1.5 pounds can weigh you down after an hour or so of reading.
• Questionable endurance.  How long can a device that only weighs 1.5 pounds take abuse?  One of its selling points is that kids could use this for their textbooks in school.  I don’t think I am going to allow Little Bobby Butterfingers near this $500 piece of technology.
• No HDMI port, no camera, no built in phone
• Screen does not use 16:9 aspect ratio (as many videos now are) resulting in a black box on each side when they are  played.

*****

So, what does all this say? Though I have been really looking forward to the iPad, the fact that it seems to be a bigger version of a piece of equipment that I already own means I don't need it. Well, and to be honest, after being out of a job since April '08, my available monies are practically exhausted. Food or an iPad....hmmmmm......

Exactly. iPad, here I come!

Dinner With the Doc

Back to the healthy meals.

Sigh.....

I am trying to eat chicken 3 times a week, sweet potatoes 4 times a week, more avacado, more almonds as snacks, etc. Alcohol is out of the question (sniff, sniff) as is bread, desserts, sugar, etc. Red meat is down to once a week, though I tend to bend that one a bit. Well, I mean come on, I do live in Texas!

The plan also calls for oily fish 3 times a week, but I can't do that. The only way I can eat fish is if it has been deep fried, and I don't think that is in the spirit of eating healthy. So, I just throw in more chicken.

This particular dinner is roasted chicken (rubbed with olive oil, sprinkled with house seasoning), roasted sweet potato (with Smart Balance instead of butter), and fresh corn sliced off of the cob (cooked with a small amount of cream [I'm trying, dammit!], garlic, salt, and pepper).

No, it's not absolutely healthy, what with the corn, cream, and chicken skin, but it's a heck of a lot better than I had been eating. Baby steps.......

Fajita Friday

Seeing as how I have been trying to eat a bit more healthily lately, I decided to treat myself to a Tex Mex dinner. Part of the meal was a freshly made pot of pinto beans, the recipe for which follows. Now, I know what you are thinking. "Dr. Mandragora, why do I need to know your recipe for beans? They are easy to make."

No. No, they are not. I cannot even begin to tell you how many home-cooked beans I've had at barbeques, get togethers, etc. that royally sucked. So please, give these a try. You won't be sorry.

Ingredients

1 and 1/2 cups of dry pinto beans

3 cloves of garlic, minced

1/2 small onion, chopped

3 slices of smoked bacon, chopped

1 jalepeno pepper (though today I used bell pepper instead)

5 cups water

salt/pepper to taste

Add all of the ingredients into a pot and cover. Simmer on medium low heat for around 3 hours, or until the beans are soft and the cooking liquid creamy. Keep an eye on the pot, by the way; if the water level gets too low, add in some extra. You should never be able to see exposed beans, they should always be covered with cooking liquid.

Now, if that isn't a recipe that any goofball can follow, then I don't know what is.

Please note, by the way, that I didn't specify how much salt or pepper to use. I tend to salt and pepper food fairly liberally, so I do not want to tell anyone how much salt to use.

My very delicious beans were a part of my Tex Mex feast which had fajitas, rice, beans, guacamole, pico de gallo, and (not homemade) tortillas.

Mmmmmmmmmmm.

Public Service Announcement

If you have a cat, I can only suggest that you stay alert and wary at all times. Ever since their fall from power after the Egyptian pharaohs were overthrown, cats have been working to retake the world.