Dog

After reading my LiveJournal friends list, I wander downstairs to talk to Kate. "I have an important question. Are we going to let FutureBaby read those agonizing kids books where the dog dies at the end?" "I certainly hope not!" says the dog. "We don't like those books. Books where the dog dies. We don't like those books at all." "Well," Kate says, "I don't know how we'll avoid it. They keep assigning them in schools, after all." "That's a good point." We're quiet for a minute, except for the dog, who mutters darkly about the bad lessons taught to young humans. "I suppose we could claim some…
Here we see the mighty hunter returning from a successful pursuit of the elusive Red Snow Squid. (It's a nice sunny day, here, and the snow storm of a few days ago left a nice coating in the back yard. It occurred to me that the snow makes a nice contrast with Emmy's black coat, and I still need some more good pictures of her for the book, so we romped around in the back yard for a while with a squeaky toy (a Kong Wubba), taking pictures.) (That was half an hour ago, and already Her Majesty is flopped on the floor in the pose of the Most Neglected Dog in the History of the World, because we…
Because I'm a Bad Person: (Context here, here, and here, Flickr group here.)
I'm sitting at the computer, reading blogs, when the dog comes up to me. "Hey, can I ask a question?" she says. "Sure, go ahead." "What's the deal with evolution?" "Evolution, huh? Well, I'm not a biologist, you understand, but the basic idea is that every creature we see today originated from simple creatures of the past, through a process of small changes over millions of years. Every individual of a species has slightly different traits, and if those traits happen to make them more likely to survive, then they are more likely to reproduce, and have offspring who will share those traits.…
"Hey, whatcha doin'?" "Making breakfast." "I don't know if you know this, but I like toast." "Really? You don't say." "Was that sarcasm? I'm not so good with sarcasm." "No, I just never would've guessed from the way you gaze longingly at the counter every morning..." "OK, that's definitely sarcasm." "Or the way you lick the floor to pick up spilled crumbs..." "OK--" "Or the way you shove your head into my lap when I'm eating breakfast. Or, for that matter, the way that we have the 'I Like Toast' conversation every morning. What could possibly give you the idea that I don't know about your…
I'm sitting on the couch, watching tv, when the dog comes in. "Hey, dude, what ever happened with that book, anyway?" "What book?" I ask, distractedly. "The one about me. What other book would I be asking about?" "Oh, yeah. I sent the first draft off to my editor and a bunch of other people, and I'm waiting for their comments." "Oh. That must suck, huh?" "What?" "Waiting. I don't like waiting." "I've noticed that." She's good for ten seconds or so, but more than that, and she starts creeping forward. "It's not so bad, though. I've already gotten some comments, which have been very positive…
John Scalzi is talking a big game: I was just taking one of those Internet tests to see how much of a geek I am, when I suddenly thought, what the fuck am I doing? I'm a published science fiction writer. Do not pass "go," do not collect $200, you know? Just go straight to the geek win. That's right, I win at geek. Tell me I'm wrong. All I have to say is, "Enjoy it while you can, Heinlein boy." I'm writing a book based on talking to my dog about quantum physics. Scalzi holds the title for the moment by virtue of actually being published, while my book is still pending. But he's just keeping…
... or, Emmy's Best Thanksgiving Ever! We did the traditional turkey-and-trimmings dinner Saturday with both sets of parents. Again, we brined the turkey overnight, following the Good Eats recipe, and other than a small glitch with the thermometer placement, everything went very well. The turkey was nicely roasted, moist, and juicy. And that's where the problem started. Or, if you're the dog, that's where this started to be the best Thanksgiving EVER... Neither Kate nor I really eat gravy, and it has the reputation of being fiddly to make, so we didn't do anything with the juices that…
It's been a while since I did one of these, so here's your book progress update for the last couple of weeks, with the obligatory dog picture. This is probably the halfway point for the first draft, more or less. Introduction Current Revision: 1 Total Words: 430 (dialogue only) Chapter 1: Particle-Wave Duality Current Revision: 5a Total Words: 5,279 Chapter 2: The Uncertainty Principle Current Revision: 7 Total Words: 4,499 Chapter 3: The Copenhagen Interpretation Current Revision: 2 Total Words: 4,801 Chapter 4: The Many-Worlds Interpretation Current Revision: 3 Total Words: 4,869 Chapter 5…
"Hey, dude, what's in the box?" "You know, I've asked you to stop calling me that. You should show some respect, since I'm the only one of the two of us who has opposable thumbs." "Whatever. What's in the box? Is it for me?" "Amazingly, yes, it is. It's a rawhide bone." "Oooh! People love me!" "Yes they do. In this case, it's from Mike, who was my thesis student last year." "The one with the camera?" "Yeah, he did take a lot of pictures. He's in grad school now, at the University of Connecticut, and when he heard about the book, he sent you a bone by way of congratulations." "We always did…
Here's another installment in the payoff for Rajesh Vaidya's donation. This is one of a bunch of pictures Kate took of me and Emmy playing on the floor: This sort of looks like it ought to be a scene from one of our physics conversations, so here's my lame attempt at a caption: I'm sure somebody out there can do a lot better than that, though, so have at it.
It's Saturday, and it's Homecoming weekend at Union, so I'll be over on campus watching sporting events for a good chunk of the day. That means it's a perfect time to pay off another blog purchase, this one from Rajesh Vaidya who asked for LOLEmmys, at least five pictures worth. There are two problems with this request: First, the Queen of Niskayuna is much too dignified to speak in LOLCat. More importantly, though, I'm not very good at coming up with these. However, that's why I have clever readers. So, here's a picture: And here's my lame attempt at a caption: I'm sure somebody out there…
Natalie Angier has a piece in the Times this morning about the loss of a beloved pet cat: Cleo was almost 16 years old, she'd been sick, and her death was no surprise. Still, when I returned to a home without cats, without pets of any sort, I was startled by my grief -- not so much its intensity as its specificity. It was very different from the catastrophic grief I'd felt when I was 19 and my father died, and all sense, color and flooring dropped from my days. This was a sorrow of details, of minor rhythms and assumptions that I hadn't really been aware of until, suddenly, they were…
"Dude, what is your deal?" "What? I'm just taking a couple of pictures." "A couple? You've taken, like, forty pictures of me already today. You're cramping my style. I'm trying to go for a walk, here. I've got bushes to sniff, lawns to pee on, critters to chase-- I don't have time for photography." "Sorry, but you remember that book contract?" "Yeah." "Well, I'm obliged to provide them with a number of reproduction-quality photographs of you, for possible use as chapter illustrations." "Oh." She's quiet for a minute. "So, these are going to be published?" "Maybe." "Well, then, at least make…
It turns out that there's actually a small clause in the standard publishing contract that requires any author with a blog to post periodic updates on the progress of the current writing project. Who knew? Well, OK, there's no contractual obligation, but really, I have the blog, and I need to fill it with something, so why not the occasional progress report? I'm not going to commit to any particular schedule, but from time to time, I'll post updates on how things are going-- word counts, general impressions, out-of-context dialogue snippets. So, how is it going? The target here is around 40,…
A critical question has come up in looking over stuff for the book: Does a dog have Buddha nature? I mean, a dog has particle character, obviously. And quantum theory tells us that a dog has wave nature. But does a dog have Buddha nature? Hard questions make Emmy sad. Or maybe she's just pondering the enlightenment and salvation of all beings. Sometimes it's hard to tell.
I'm checking a last few things and putting papers into an envelope when the dog wakes up from her nap. "Hey," she says, stretching, "What're you doing?" "I'm getting ready to mail this," I say. "What is it?" "Several copies of a book contract that I just signed." "It's a book about me, right?" she says, wagging her tail hopefully. "Because I'm the best." "Well, sort of. It's a popular science book, based on our conversations about physics." "That's a good idea, too." "Well, some people obviously think so, because they're going to pay me to write it." "How much are you getting?" "Well..." I…
There's been some discussion recently in places I can't link to about the Purpose of Blogging, and whether it's really appropriate to be using the medium to exchange silly pictures of cats. Ethan Zuckerman made an important point about the utility of banality (that link 404's at the moment, but I assume Ethan will eventually fix it. Hint, hint. The post is still on the front page, though): So while Flickr should be used for displaying pictures of cute cats, it’s also proved an effective tool for avoiding keyword filtering. Activists in China are using Flickr to disseminate images that…
Emmy says "Boring posts about religion and politics make me sad. You should post more about me." There'll be news to make her happy in the next week or so. Until then, here's a picture.
I've never been a big fan of Michael Vick as a football player, and his indictment for running a dog-fighting business pretty much wipes out any chance he ever had of winning me over. Steve Verdon notes that, if convicted, Vick could be fined up to $350,000 and face as much as six years in prison, and that would be getting off easy. I think Jim Henley put it best: A dog is a great big furry ball of trust, even a dog that has been trained into meanness and savagery. To traduce that trust is unforgiveable. It is inhuman. It'll be interesting to see what the NFL does about this. They've been…