This is not a ‘normal’ blog, if there is such a thing. In other words, each post is not going to be a link to some other content somewhere on the web.
But this article is incredible. It’s by a father of one of the victims of the Columbine school shootings. And it’s deeply religious.

Finally, some images on this site!
I was out one day just snapping pictures of anything that happened to catch my eye. A guy happened to see me twice - once on his way to the video store and once on his way home. Both times, I was capturing shapes and shadows on cinder-block walls. His […]

This is a children’s story that I’ve been working on for some time. It started as a story that I told to my daughter Gabrielle just before bedtime.
Seriously and soberly, I think it’s publication-worthy and am searching for a publisher … so if you know one or are one, let me know!
It’s written for kids […]

So. My dad read a sermon the other day.
No, not in the sense you’re probably thinking - that he read the riot act. I am married, with children, in my own home.

OK, what if the Canucks are toast again this year - I’m starting to play hockey again.

I learned something new today - how to pour ketchup. I guess you can always learn something new!
Here’s the problem; everyone knows it: the ketchup stays in the bottle. Until you dig in after it with a knife, or, worse, it all comes gushing out at once.
But here’s how to fix it:

Heya,
I’ve had this blog up for a little while now, perhaps two weeks, so I figure it’s time to say what it’s for … beside the obvious, which is basically whatever I want it to be for.
Well, it is a blog, so this is my place to put stuff that I’m thinking about. But it’s […]

I read a book a couple of weeks ago that I really enjoyed on a variety of levels: Drifting Home by Pierre Berton.
Berton is kind of a Canadian icon; he’s written weighty tomes on a variety of Canadian and international issues; he’s written good histories (like Vimy Ridge) on key episodes in Canadian history.
Drifting Home […]

This poem is an attempt to recapture the magic of a poem I wrote in grade 4, of all times and places, which epitomized to my young brain the thought of absolute freedom … which was quite enticing.

Hell is a very private place,
You make it:
It’s your own space.

This poem strikes me as rather pretentious, pedantic, and predictable … and no I wasn’t searching for ‘p’ words there! But what the heck, I wrote it late one night, it meant something to me then, and I include for the sake of authenticity.
Juvenilia villa!

To my shamefully biased brain, this is one of my best poetical efforts.
As with most poetry that I write, it was written late at night. There’s something about late night that brings out poetry in people … and no, it’s not the moon.

CSS design is driving me nuts.
I guess that’s mostly ’cause I don’t really get it yet - I cut my teeth on website design with tables, and while tables have their well-known limitations, it’s at least a technology I understand.

Well, this is interesting.
I have high-speed ADSL from telus (telus.net). It only allows me to have two machines registered at any given time - they check for your machine’s MAC address when you connect to the internet.
That’s OK, I only have two machines I want connected, anyway. And if I want more, I’ll just use […]

I am so hugely impressed with Stephen Baxter that I almost cannot express it in words.
Hyperbole is boring, and bullshit is worse, but he is seriously one of the major, if not THE major forces driving science fiction forward these days. Just when we thought all the good plots were taken by Heinlein and Asimov […]