Caprica - I'm waiting...and waiting...and waiting...

Caprica is the new series that attempts to rebirth yet another Battlestar Galactica saga. It focuses on the Graystones and the Adamas and the creation of the uber-bad mechanical cylons. The potential for a new epic science fiction saga is there, yet an ignominiously painful wait is ahead for anyone interested in the action and excitement that was the bread and butter of the first two series. One cylon has made an appearance so far and is disappointingly inhabited by the digital version of Zoe Graystone, the dead teenage daughter of Daniel Graystone, CEO of a Caprican conglomerate. The Adamas are pseudo criminals, and so far the worst crimes they have committed have been breaking windows and playing hookie. Caprica seems well written and is well acted, but now on episode five has yet to put out. It seems instead to have turned into a rather boring primetime spacey soap opera. I don't know how much more teen angst and family drama I can suffer through before cylons start annihilating Capricans. I was looking forward to this series but as the weeks have past I have been left napping and wondering when Luke and Laura are going to make a surprise appearance.

Artwork

Nuts and Bolts #5

Nuts and Bolts #4

Nuts and Bolts #3

Nuts and Bolts #1

Nuts and Bolts #2

Francis

D8H

Pedestal

Click on images to enlarge

"Lurker"

Reductive linoleum print

2008

"I'm Ready to Go"

Intaglio Print

2008

"ATRRG"

Monoprint

2008

"Gordy"

India Ink on Gourd

2007

"Maggie Joy"

Pastel

2006

"Study of Avacado"

Ball point pen on paper

2008

Comic for Argonaut

2009

"Bread"

Pen and ink and watercolor

2006

"It's Not Easy Being Green"

Colored Pencil

2006

"Random Acts of Freedom"

Ball point pen

2008

"Noodles?"

Raku

2008

Ceramic Mugs

2008

"Afterlife"

Ceramic and ash

2008

"Arrhythmia"

Wire, Elmer's glue and grocery bags

2008

“Teapot³”

Slab built ceramic teapot, serving tray, and honey pot

2008

"Non-Autobiolineography"

Oak, copper, coffee patina, and wax

2008

"Entitled"

Steel

2006

"Feeding Time"

Coil built ceramic sculpture

2008

"Puzzled"

Hard slab sculpture

2008

"Recycled"

300+ plastic bottles collected for 20 days out of 24 trash cans

2007

"Pull"

Unfired slip cast clay, plastic

2009

"Reductitive Me"

Video

2009

Additional Images

Farkle

I have a new addiction and it's name is Farkle. Farkle is a dice game. I am not going to explain all the rules because you can look them up or play it for free online. Below you will find some unofficial scoring rules. I am a firm believer that the game's original name was much more vulgar. I know this because for a couple of hours each night I sit in front of my computer and play this vile game. If you were a fly on the wall you would hear me uttering "Farkle" in a variety ways. Sometimes I mutter it to myself quietly, "Farkle". Sometimes I yell it, "FARKLE". Sometimes I add to it, " Farkling game, Farkling Farkle-headed game, M----r Farkling dumb Fark Farker.

I can't stop playing the game. It teases me. It taunts me. I even have my set of strategies on how to best play Farkle. They are as follows:

#1. Always push to score on all six dice on your first turn for a second set of rolls unless you have 1000 or more points already for the turn.

#2. Always roll if you have 3 remaining dice (the odds that you will roll a 5, 1 or triples is greater than Farkling) unless you have 1000 or more points for that turn.

#3. Never roll if you have 1 or 2 remaining dice if you have already made the 300 min to bank, except on the first and last turn.

#4. Never use a 5 unless it gives you the 300 min to bank (and you have one or two dice left to roll), you need it to keep rolling (and have not made the min to bank), if you have triple 5's, if it clears the board of dice. For example: If you have 1, 5, 3, 3, 6, 2 on the board, use the 1 and re-roll the 5 as this will give you better odds on rolling something higher.

#5. Never use triple 2's unless they give you your 300 min (with only one or two dice remaining to roll), they clear the board of dice, you are already past your 300 min.

#6. Never re-roll after triple 6's (unless they have just cleared the board of dice). This is more superstition that anything but I find it to be usefull.

#7, If your are under your high score, always push on the last turn to get a second set of rolls. What do you have to lose at this point?

scoring is as follows:

1. 1000 pts to get on the board (playing against someone) 300 if playing alone.
2. 10,000 pts to win if playing against an opponent. Alone you get 10 rounds every third Farkle in a row you lose 500 points.
3. 1’s = 100
4. 5’s = 50
5. 1's = 1000
6. Triples = 100 x face value of dice. Add that amount for each additional dice of that amount. Three 3's 300, four 3's 600, five 3's 900, etc. This is the same for 1's. 1000, 2000, etc.
7. Three pair = 750
8. Straight = 1500 (points are safe)

Farkle is also a popular drinking game. If you are a fan of alchohol poisoning be my guest, otherwise I would advise against this line of thinking. Have a Farkling good time.

Surviving Summer

So I have made it through another summer of vacation and travel. If you really know me this is quite a feat. I have absolutely no idea what I am thinking every time I get in a car or a plane and travel more than 2 hours away from my comfort zone. There should be a law that keeps people like me in my own state.

My first trip this summer was to American Samoa. Ooooh, aaaah sounds like paradise. Well it is paradise and I had a great time. I also got to spend it with Clif, Julia and the boys coupled with a whole lot of uncomfortable silences, 100% humidity, and a strange rash that has yet to disappear two months later. I really should seek the advice of a medical professional, but it could involve removing my pants and I just don't like the way my doctor looks at me.

Upon returning to civilization I decided to leave it again and head to Oregon. No internet= no Facebook= no Farmtown= Jon goes crazy, don't mind if I do! Proof that I have no business travelling reared its ugly head quite quickly and in less than a week the first mishap occurred. The family and I went out to River Forks Park near Roseburg, Oregon. It's a great place to take the kids and there is a lot of shade. We arrived there with no problems and after a couple of hours headed back to Winston. Stopping at the drugstore on the way back I noticed that the rear passenger tire was low. No big deal, I have a can of fix a flat for just such occasions (fix a flat is standard issue in Harty and Humphreys vehicles). So I check out the tire and I can hear air coming out. I feel around and this is what I find in my tire:

No joke. A 1/4 craftsman end wrench round part first. Lifetime guarantee to flatten any tire. This is Harty luck. Do not try this at home, I am a professional.

My trusty VW vanagon (now with 4 new tires) still had a few tricks up it's sleeve. On one of my many trips to the Winston Public Library, our only internet hotspot in town, a young man knocks on our window. He politely informs us that we are leaking a little bit of oil. No big deal I say to myself, it's a VW. I decide to check on it just to be safe, (remember I am a professional) and leading out of the parking lot the way we came is an automotive blood trail. I quickly check under the care to make sure that I am not dragging some friendly woodland creature. I am not so lucky. A large pool of VW blood worthy of Gil Grissom is accumulating under the engine. I look for any signs of end wrenches that may have pierced the engine block, nothing. I inspect for women's underpants, pointed sticks, walnuts, and labrador retrievers, any logical explanation for the hemmorage, again nothing. As luck would have it (I use this term loosely) my friend Bryce was there to help motivate me to fix the problem. However, as any VW owner knows you cannot just go down to the local Checker Auto and get what you need. Forms need to be filled out, Politicians need to be bribed, and Santa Claus needs to be informed of the situation. When you do find what you need, Bryce points out that the belt that you bought is a millimeter too big and a micron too wide. More forms are filled out, etc., etc. Finally a european auto parts store is located and after calling 100 times in ten minute intervals, the clerk decides to answer the phone. "Yes I have your part, yes Kris Kringle has contacted me as has Larry Craig. Yes he was in the restroom in the next stall. He told me in sign language (by running his hand back and forth under the stall partition) you were calling and asked me in Morse code (by tapping his foot) if I had an extra roll of toilet paper and a 1/4 inch craftsman end wrench he could borrow as he had misplaced his in the tire of a VW Vanagon. So Bryce and I go to the parts store to get the seal that needs replacing. "That seal is round" Bryce says. "The old seal is flat". "That is because there is more than one company that makes the replacement" says the clerk. "But that seal is round and ours is flat". The clerk just looks at him, then at me. "We'll take it" I say.

So we finally make it out of Oregon and to California where we origionally intended to stay for a week or two. Unfortunately after spending all of our money on keeping the VW running I got to stay and paint houses for three weeks. Yeah! While on a job, my father-in-laws Jeep Wagoneer broke down. Guess who was driving it? Give that man a prize! Yes it was me.

Needing a break from painting we decided to take a trip to Vegas our last week there. Tony and Bryce decided to meet us there as well. Steve let us borrow his Montero as our VW has no AC. We get to Vegas and the first thing that happens is the AC on the Montero goes out. Do you know how hot it is in Vegas in July? It is freaking hot. I mean fry an egg on your hood, 5000 spf, want to move to Alaska where I can see Russia from my porch hot. We do need to keep an eye on them after all. This however is not the end of the story. You can probably guess what happened next. On the way to the airport to pick up my friend Tony the Montero broke down on us. Want to take a guess as to who was driving it? The odds are in your favor and we are in Vegas. I would double down.

On our way home to Moscow we had planned a stop at my parents' house in Winston so we could paint it for them. The trip to Winston from Tehachapi was a breeze. Absolutely no problems. We were home free to make it to Moscow. We were quickly lured into a false sense of security. We had everything packed up in our trailer, had all of the lights working, and I even stopped at the gas station to fill up the spare tire for the trailer (professional remember?). About two hours outside of Winston our "luck" started to unravel. The tire on the trailer blew out. It did not just go flat, it blew into a million pieces. So I pulled over on the side of the freeway to check it out. There was no good place to stop. On one side about a foot between the van and the freeway, the same between it and the five foot tall concrete wall. It was ok though, we had the spare that I had just put air in. This should only take a minute, right? Riigghht. I quickly removed the damaged rim and went to get the spare. It was flat. Someone somewhere just thought of me and drew a royal flush.

Anyway (that's for you Erin) I did finally sort it all out and made it home maybe not with peace of mind, but still in one piece. I won't call it luck because I don't believe in it (at least not good luck I am a devoted follower of bad luck).

I am taking a break from vacations for a while. A long while.

Pedestrians Only $75

So it seems that the going rate for running down pedestrians in Idaho is about $75.  Only $75??  What a bargain!   Man, I am going out in my Mack truck to get me some footies right now!   What the hell am I talking about?  I can't run down a footie in a crosswalk and expect to get away with it can I?  Well can I? According to the Moscow Police Department I can, and as long as I didn't mean to (no intent) I will only receive a $75 fine and a slap on the wrist.  Sweet mercy, who'd o' thunk it! 

This new information opens so many doors.  I am so excited I think I might have peed a little.  The list of possibilities are endless: commies,  Clement Greenberg (He's dead? Sucky), abstract Expressionists (sorry, The New York School), Keith Olbermann and my personal favorite- hippies.  The list just goes on and on.  So next time you are out and about and some footie is slowing down traffic while in a crosswalk, give him a bump, as long as you are willing to pay the $75.  

Keep this important tidbit in mind as well: if the peddie is not in a crosswalk (keep in mind some crosswalks are unmarked), they have to pay.  Diabolical!

Here is an added bonus on punching hippies.  It made me laugh:

 http://www.themadpigeon.com/diary_of_the_mad_pigeon/2008/02/this-valentines.html

Disclaimer: Trippin' the Northwest and it's writers (me) do not endorse vehicular assault. 

Trippin' Oregon

The family and I went on a trip to Oregon this past Labor Day weekend.  After our first week at school it was a much needed, albeit rushed weekend getaway.  The Old Man came down from Coeur d' Alene and made the first leg of the trip with us.  I am sure he was just ecstatic to be crammed in a car full of kids again after all these years. 

 We made pretty good time to Portland and all seemed like it was going well until the hippies struck.  

Yes we were foiled in our plans by the hippies of ODOT ( Oregon Department Of Transportation).  If you have ever traveled the highways of Portland you may have an idea of what happened to us.  The trouble started on our way to Beaverton.  We got on highway 26 (unaware of the danger that lurked ahead) and settled in to what should have been a 10 min drive to our hotel.  We rounded  a bend in the highway and out of nowhere it split, sending us careening onto the wrong highway.   

All was not lost if we could find an exit and return to the point of the split.  Once again the hippies of highway construction anticipated our plan and promptly placed an exit in our path.  This exit wore the guise of one that would return us to our original route, but we soon discovered that we had been deceived.   We exited and climbed to the top of the ramp.  Turning to enter the on-ramp going the opposite direction we realized too late that this ramp paralleled the highway we needed but offered no entrance to said highway.  From our ill chosen ramp the correct route tempted us, but stayed just out of reach and quickly faded away into the night.

We searched for a way back but to no avail.  Then a ray of hope!  An entrance to the I-5 south! We were saved!  Excitement reverberated through our mobile prison.  We would prevail over the Communist meat hating hippies of the highway interchange!  But, once again we underestimated the depth of their diabolical scheme and relaxed into a state of ignorant bliss. This was a bad idea!   We were not quickly deposited onto the I-5 as expected but meandered on an interchange that seemed to go on forever.  After what seemed like an eternity we made it onto to the I-5 and exited at the Or-10 exit.  Now by this time the forces of hippiedom had us so mixed up and unsure of ourselves that when it was suggested that the 10 would take us to Beaverton the idea was immediately thrown out the window (later we would find that this highway would have taken us exactly where we needed to be).   We eventually made it back to the 26, got off at the right exit, and made it to our hotel. 

 

The next day went much better and I have to admit our little unplanned trip did serve as a practice run to the zoo.   We met Bryce and Heather Busenbark along with their daughters at the zoo and had a great time.  We also saw some pretty cool animals while we were there.  We did end up parking in the overflow lot as the zoo lots were very full.  If you are planning on going on a weekend or holiday it might be best to park there from the onset instead of fighting with the traffic in the zoo parking lots. 

After the zoo we went to Saturday Market with Bryce.  This is a must see event if you are in Portland on a Saturday.(hence the name Saturday Market)  Here is Bryce eating one of the best spring rolls in the world (only found at Saturday Market).  

There are also quite a few hippies to be found at Saturday Market although not the same hippies who built the Oregon highways (thank goodness).  

Our last stop in Portland was Powell Books.  This is Erin's favorite place to go in Portland.  Trying to describe Powell's is difficult.  There is nothing to compare it to.   It is like trying to compare any mountain in the U.S. to Mt. Everest.  There is just no comparison.  If you are looking for a book that you can't find anywhere else there is a good bet that they have it.  They also sell online at www.powellbooks.com.  

If you decide sometime in the future to make a trip to the Portland area, be cautious and always keep a look out for the ODOT hippies (don't think that driving a VW will save you either, it didn't help us). 

My a Fat Man

I received my first blog comment!!! It was not nearly as bad as I thought that it would be. After all my goal is to offend and amuse and it seems that I have offended someone with my awful fatness. I thought that it would be my comment on hippies (kicking a hippie while they are down is quite offensive but amusing at the same time). I still hope to attract the wrath of some truly evil hippie whose scathing remarks will haunt me forever.

So on to the comment. I of course reserve the right to review all comments before I post them (just in case they are not offensive enough) and this one amused me enough that I decided to give it it's very own blog entry. My new secret admirer is Rain Princess. Wait a minute, it was a hippie! This hippie however has regressed so far intellectually that his/her comments (yes plural) read as follows:

your freakin fat

gytghyft6 your a fat man

yourmknoijnlnj your a fat man

0gy2hcrf6g2h65f5g62fdg65h263fy5g623yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy your a fat person

Now I have not edited these comments in any way, this is exactly how they appear and in the order that they were posted. Now let's take the first comment, your freakin fat. Well of course it's my freakin' fat (see how I used that contraction). I consumed a lot of Zingers to get that fat. (for my foreign fans Zingers are Twinkies covered with raspberry jelly and coconut freakin' sweet!)



It should really read: You're freaking fat, as the word "your" denotes ownership (I do own my fat though, until I go in for liposuction and at that point some bio-med waste company will own my fat). Again this is what is commonly referred to as a contraction. On to the second comment. The contraction is once again mysteriously absent. Then something altogether new. I am not sure if this is a foreign language or an attempt to bypass my exceptionally tough filtering system-me. The attempts do not stop there however, they become increasingly complex. NOT! (you have to love Wayne and Garth, PARTY ON!) I think that on the last one they must have either recieved an electric shock (my exceptionally tough filtering system at work ) or had some type of seizure or fit (it is also offensive but unfortunately not amusing to kick a person that is having a seizure while they are down).

For those of you who did not comment, please don't feel left out, maybe I will give your comment it's (again that contraction) very own blog post.

A Little Hippie Art

I have come to the realization that I am turning into a Hippie. I have avoided becoming a full blown communist meat hating hippie so far. Just the other day I ate a nice medium rare slice of rib eye heaven, engaged in capitalism (I bought a Mac), and then I kicked some hippie while he was down. Lately however my thinking and art has been influenced by some environmental issues. While working for North Idaho College I had an awakening as to the laziness of the people in our area when it comes to recycling. At the time I was taking an independent study sculpture class from Michael Horswill (excellent professor), and I was playing around with the idea of creating a piece out of plastic (plastic drink bottles) that I found in the trash. As I collected those bottles I was amazed and a little sickened at the numbers that were going in the trash on campus on a daily basis, the numbers were in the THOUSANDS.

I collected the majority of these bottles from one floor in one building on campus during a 30 day period. My co-workers also collected some for me in other areas but I tried to stick to using the bottles from that one area. I did use some from other areas to replace ones that I ruined or that were full of some disgusting unnamed substance. While it did not end up being what I originally started out to do (my art rarely ever does), it conveyed my idea in a way that proved to be effective. The finished sculpture called "Recycled" was in the shape of a 7' soda bottle. What I wanted to show was that we don't pay attention (or we just don't care) to what we throw away, and where it is going (in our landfills).

Recycled shown with Artist Jon Harty

The piece was displayed in the Molstead Library, during the Popcorn Forum at NIC, and on Earth Day at NIC. The piece was also mentioned in the Week's Worth News letter published by North Idaho College and in an article in the student newspaper, The Sentinel (even though they did not give me credit, they did showed a photo of the piece).

I tried to put in a link to the original article but was foiled by windows, save me Mac!!! (Mac will be here soon). Unfortunately the plastic bottle came to an unfortunate end at the hands of ASNIC. They moved the bottle without asking and it fell apart (if they had asked I had a plan for moving it without damage). I really shouldn't complain to much as this gave "Recycled" it's fifteen minutes of fame (and it is in google images thanks to Erin). I did repair the piece and even though it was not quite that same afterwards, it was used on Earth Day.