This is the title of my blog

That's right America: I'm back!

2012-01-18T11:49:00.002-05:00

And I promise that this time it's for good. I'm in it for the long h--- whoa! Is that a puppy!

Go here!

2009-08-20T20:04:00.002-04:00

http://www.wix.com/jaredbusks/Man-For-Hire

It's the new millennium!

2009-08-20T12:21:00.003-04:00

For at least another couple hundred more years anyway. Then it'll be the young millennium, etc.

I'm back, I suppose. The reason I am back is that I now have a story to tell. It's a narrative and it's long-form. Only the prologue is yet written, so we have a journey ahead of us, my friends.

More to come . . .

-j

Good work Microsoft, you just killed music

2009-01-29T00:18:00.001-05:00

Well, boo. YouTube wouldn't let me embed the video, so here's a link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3oGFogwcx-E

Hahahahaha!

2009-01-23T12:11:00.002-05:00

I think I'm going to sample this and use it in a song to RDB.

Highlights

2009-01-20T12:56:00.004-05:00

The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act -- not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age.*

For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.

The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works.

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals.

Know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.

[Earlier generations] understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West: Know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy.

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

"Let it be told to the future world ... that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive... that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet [it]."

*Editorial: As an engineer, my mind is already aflutter with the grand ideas about a potential rebuilding of our infrastructure. I imagine commuter rails, a vast, unbroken communications network, new ways to create, deliver, store and utilize electric power, (if it can really be harnessed) hydrogen or electric fueling stations such that one more prop be pulled out from under the argument that a total revolution in transportation would be impossible against our nation's entrenched dependence on oil. Yeah. I'm totally geekin' out.

Well, hello there.

2008-12-23T21:20:00.004-05:00

Have a Merry Christmas!

(I love this new camera!)

Wall-E, pt. 1

2008-06-26T09:26:00.007-04:00

Why, hello there.

It's been nearly a week since my last post -- be honest, you thought I wasn't coming back, didn't you?

This past week at work I've actually been, er, working, so the blog has had to take a bit of a backseat. But today I'm kinda caught up on my work so I thought I'd put something up here to silence the nay-sayers.

I'm not quite sure how others feel about Pixar and Dreamworks, but I've got to be honest: I cringe with the talks of each new release. And then I see the film.

Dreamworks has given me reason to cringe, but I don't think it's their fault. I think it's Pixar's.

Dreamworks is a company that makes computer-animated kids movies. Pixar is a company making computer-animated "film." And each of their releases solidifies this point. And while I wouldn't rank Cars, Finding Nemo (my least favorite, actually, though that's mostly because I never let myself admit how good it was), and The Incredibles aren't quite the triumph of American cinema that so many art house film claim to be, Ratatouille and, if everything I've heard is true, Wall-E are.

Ratatouille has taken me from dry-eyed to crying more quickly than any other film ever has. Only C.S. Lewis' writings have been able to push me over the edge emotionally with such efficiency. And, if you've seen the film, you probably know the scene I'm talking about.

With each release, it seems that Pixar further alienates it's original audience and further intrigues and moves it's new audience of adults. Ratatouille, I think, was a sort of a breaking point, and it looks like Wall-E is going out even further.

Described as "like an animated addendum to Charlie Chaplin's Modern Times," this, I am told, primarily silent film seems unlikely to hold the attention of anyone under about 10. With no dialogue for the first half-hour and stunning outer space visuals, it sounds much more like 2001: A Space Odyssey than, well, any cartoon I can think of.

As I've been reading the reviews, my eyes have been welling up just thinking about what this movie could be. I call this pre-emotion, or, "premotion."

How could you not get excited about a film with this review: "A film that’s both breathtakingly majestic and heartbreakingly intimate." Or: "This love story moved me more than any other in years."

It's out tomorrow. I'm seeing it ASAP. I'll let you know what I think.

-j

p.s. Anyone out there care to join me?

Jeans are the new khakis

2008-06-20T10:58:00.008-04:00

Today is Friday, which means the dress code at work is dropped. Presently, I'm wearing some dark wash Levi 511's and a Toas snap-up collared shirt from UA that's basically one big wrinkle of grey fabric. I love it.

Behind me sits an older man - I'd guess he's in his 60s - with a pair of very light wash jeans that probably aren't actually denim (Update: they're Levi's after all! Prolly 505's). He's also wearing some pretty sweet suspenders. In this one room sit the youngest and the oldest members of the MIS staff, each one representing that fact very well. Ironically, if I had my way I'd be wearing suspenders right now, too. We'd make quite a pair.

I'm completely uncomfortable in my work clothes. I used to love to get dressed up in dressier clothes, but now not so much. Part of that comes from the shift for what dressing up means to me. I still like to wear slacks and a tie and all that, but that's actually too dressy for work. And the slacks I like are the ones from H&M that fit like my 511's. Wearing polos and "baggy" khakis just makes me uncomfortable these days. It's funny, I feel sloppy in those. Maybe it has to do with me being on the smaller side; looser fitting clothes make me feel smaller.

At any rate, as I made my rounds today I felt more confident than earlier in the week. I've been much more chatty and the people I've been working with have responded more positively to me invading their space for the 3 minutes it takes to check their equipment. Not that the others responded negatively, but today, everybody's been friendly. I'm not sure if it's because I've been friendlier, or whether maybe everybody's feeling that way today.

Today is seriously an awesome day. I think that's because

Hooray for money! Unfortunately, after paying rent I'm only left with $10. But my next paycheck will be twice as big and I'll get to keep all of it.

Seriously, dudes. It's a great day.

It also helps that I have resolution on Monday's post. Like, a lot.

Okay, I want to get serious now.

I've finally been able to really take a listen to the new Coldplay album, Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends.

And it's great.

I haven't yet decided whether the album as a whole is truly living up to the hype or whether I love every track (some of the first tracks aren't quite landing for me yet), but what I can tell you is that Yes and Strawberry Swing may be the bands two best songs.

Yes is my favorite Coldplay song ever right now. The strings playing in a sort of Phrygian thing (as best as I can tell by ear; I haven't gone home to my piano to figure out exactly what's going on) and the whole song with the back and forth between V and, alternately, i and I (again, I think that's what's happening) is rocking my face off. And is that a Neopolitan the strings are coming back to? or is it just another example of the i/I thing? Either way, it's very Spanish and very spine tingling.

And let's talk about that guitar. I feel like I'm havin' Church when I hear that slide streaking up the neck.

Strawberry Swing is nothing like the Coldplay I'm used to. They're breaking out of there normal straight ahead, four on the floor sound. And it's beautiful.

And Lost!/Lost? makes me feel like I'm listening to a really mellowed out Queen. Maybe that's a little extreme - of course, Chris Martin isn't soaring up to the rafters like Freddie - but it definitely has that epic, stadium rock feel. The simple melody - the kind that makes me think, why didn't I come up with that? - and all the root position chords - particularly in Lost! - are, I think, what add up to this stadium rock feel.

It kinda reminds me of the end of the second Mighty Ducks movie when they're sitting around the campfire with a guitar singing "We are the Champions."

I think I'm really gonna enjoy getting to know this record.

-j

Centennial

2008-06-19T09:42:00.010-04:00

As of just now, I've reached 100 visits to my site since installing the counter. Of course, most of the clicks are from me checking back to see if anybody's reading. At any rate, this has proven to be my most popular blog to date.

I found my old xanga site today. Over the course of 6 months I logged a whopping 10 entries. But I was actually very surprised by some of the posts: I was thinking much more deeply and wrestling much more profoundly than I had remembered.

I was also apparently on a poetry kick, the likes of which I had not seen before and haven't again seen since. After reading a poem, probably originally intended to be a sonnet, that I didn't recognize, the process and rhythm of it came back to me. It's a lot better than I gave it credit for then. I mind presenting it here less now than I probably did then because, if it's hideous, I can call on time to demonstrate the distinction between who I am now and who I was then. It's been just over three years since I first wrote this:

Should I tell You how long that it's been
Since I last knew the warmth of Your presence?
Do You see all the Shame I live in,
Or the passion I've wasted in silence?
Must I pay some great price for my sin?
Well, if not then what should be my sentence?
Human hearts can't let go of conviction.
No, they feel that they owe some dire penance.
They remember their crimes once again,
And are blind to the Grace in Repentance.

It's exasperating to think what I might be capable of writing had I kept the discipline up since then. Not that this was fantastic, but I'm convinced that the greater part of becoming a good writer is consistent practice. Like Edison said: 10% inspiration, 90% perspiration.

And let me tell ya, Edison was one sweaty dude.

-j

Update: Apparently I have long had an inability to give a blog a title. Anyway, if you do, he'll just want a glass of milk.

The Day the Earth Stood Still

2008-06-18T12:51:00.005-04:00

No, not that day.

Twenty-eight years ago today the world witnessed one of the happiest events of its history:
the birth of Leigh Ann Buchanan.

She entered the world a tiny, fiercely independent, beautiful, bald baby girl. And that's how she stayed for a few years. Then she finally grew some hair. A lot of hair.

For just shy of six years she was raised as an only child. Then, in 1986, a little boy was born into the family. He was one lucky little boy.

For the next twelve years this little boy followed this little girl everywhere she went, whether she liked it or not. Most of the time, surprisingly (that is, if you don't know this girl), she didn't seem to mind.

She taught him to read, respect his teachers, manipulate his parents, and never, ever, ever give up on anything he decided to do. She held his heart right in the palms of her hands. The sun rose and set on her. And it still does.

At the age of 18, she moved to college and their relationship deepened as they each got older. She became less of a mother hen and more of dear friend and confidant. She continued to lay down deep footprints in which he aspired to follow. And still does.

While in school, she met, fell in love with, and later married a wonderful man who did a terrible thing that worked out for the better in the end: he stole her away to Illinois. A few weeks later, at Governor's school, the little boy couldn't sleep for thoughts of her so far away. He wept himself to sleep.

After five looooong years she returned to the southeast bearing wonderful news: she was starting this whole thing over.

Nine months later, a tiny, beautiful, bald baby girl was born into the world. Just like her mommy, she stole this little boy's heart and keeps it right in the palms of her tiny hands. But she has to share it with Leigh Ann.

I love you, Sissy! Happy birthday!

-j

Random thoughts

2008-06-18T10:00:00.006-04:00

1) In retrospect, Mike Huckabee should've been the Republican nominee. He sure knows how to throw down a serious metaphor.

Huckabee suggested questions about whether he might join McCain on the ticket were premature. "You can't accept an invitation to the prom until the football captain asks you. So I'm not going to go out and buy the outfit just yet," said Huckabee, according to AFP.

2) David Bowie is quotable, but only out of context.

3) I'm diggin' the moves by big name musicians to cut ties with the labels and get their music to the people.

4) If you're reaching for something in the lower cabinets, make sure the door to the upper cabinet is closed before standing back up. You might just have a headache for the rest of the day . . .

5) The problem with living in two places is that there are a lot of small things that you have to take back and forth. Forget them and you end up with a dead cell phone or a brand new Coldplay album that you can't put on your iPod. Cables are small but important.

6) How the heck is this level of cuteness possible?

Have a happy Wednesday everybody!

-j

It's just (ah) some little fling (crush).

2008-06-16T10:06:00.017-04:00

This one's for the singles out there:

(Before I begin, prepare not to be judgemental at all. Otherwise, leave.)

If you're anything like me, you are developing, suffering from, or getting over a crush. Or two. At this moment I myself am under the whelming of a lovely girl that I'm not even going to talk about. Because, as we all know, the worst possible thing that could happen in a crush situation is that the crushee might figure it out. Heavens forbid someone you like should find out you like her. One of you might then be forced to, I dunno, act on it.

One of the more frustrating aspects of the crush is that it's object is rarely someone you know particularly well. Of course, occasionally it is, but that's a totally different game that, in my opinion, is much easier to play. But generally, for me anyway, it's always someone I only kinda know. This opens one's confidence up to be chipped away at bit by bit:

Okay, so I think maybe she might like me. Oh, but wait. Maybe she has a boyfriend. Maybe she's just being nice (Note: 85% of the time, she is. But, of course, why would I have a crush on someone who isn't?).

Facebook is simultaneously the greatest friend to the crusher and his worst enemy. Facebook is exactly like a drug dealer. It hands over to the floundering crusher exactly what he asks for but says nothing of the consequences. Slowly, addiction sets in. (Just like drug addicts, facebook stalkers generally start out fairly innocent - I just wanted to see what it was like/I just wanted to show her picture to a friend - then rapidly descend into despair.)

At first a few cute photos of her are enough to cool the ardor. And then you read her profile. It's like moving from weed to crack.

Oh, she likes Jump, Little Children! That's my favorite band!

She liked that book, too?! I thought I was the only one around here who'd even heard of it!

One of her interests is sleep?! One of my interests is sleep!

Whereas a few photos added by others may sate the fluttering heart, the profile shocks it into violent palpitations (though, sometimes, it can cause it to quickly flat-line. That's called mercy).

This is where the crusher makes one (or both) of two big mistakes: he reads a couple of wall posts or discovers her blog. (Geeze, I'm starting to sound really creepy to myself. But hey, if she didn't want me reading 'em, she shouldn't have facebook friended me, right? Right?!! Damn, I'm a wreck.)

Anywho, either of these mistakes signal a jump like that from crack to heroin. All it takes is one bad hit.

Wait, what does this post on her blog mean: "Aw, I heard the news!" Does she have a boyfriend?! Why did she leave her relationship status blank? (C'mon, you know you've been there)

At this point, you spin desperately out of control. You scour her blog, read all of her wall posts. Read wall-to-walls. You must know her relationship status. Because you don't want to look dumb, right? You don't want to do anything embarrassing, right?

Too late.

Perhaps this will give you comfort, as it did me:

I was sitting here at work today unable to concentrate. I actually googled "what to do with an overwhelming crush." Wow.

Wow.

I found a link to crush-related quotes and read this:

Although you may not love me, although you may not care. If you shall ever need me, you know that I'll be there. Your love may all be taken, your heart may not be free, but when your heart is broken, you can always lean on me. I'll never stop loving you, I know because I tried. All the oceans in the world, can't hold the tears I've cried.
-- Author Unknown

This consoles me greatly. It also scares me a bit because it means there's at least one more level to go: utter absurdity. After reading this I realized that I'm not nearly as bad off as some.

Here we have a quote from an absolute doormat. I'm hoping it's taken out of context because, in the context of a crush, how ridiculously sad does, "I'll never stop loving you, I know because I tried," sound?

Onward and upward, my single friends. I'm tempted to try to offer advice, but that's silly considering I'm at the make-or-break phase of the Crush Cycle:

Yep. I found out she's more cute, interesting, unique, fun, exciting than I thought before. Or at least I think she might be. So with this blog I now take that important last step so that the cycle may begin again:

Dear ------,

Although you may not love me, although you may not care. If you shall ever need me, you know that I'll be there. Your love may all be taken, your heart may not be free, but when your heart is broken, you can always lean on me. I'll never stop loving you, I know because I tried. All the oceans in the world, can't hold the tears I've cried.

Forever and ever and ever yours forever with love,

Jared

There. I've publicly embarrassed myself.

You saw it here first, folks.

-j

Update: In true crusher fashion, after posting this blog I thought, "what if she finds this? Maybe she'll think I'm crushing on someone else! Or worse: maybe she'll know it's her! Then she'll know I've read her blog! Aaaah!" Lame. I'm a dork.

I'm gonna add a self-derision tag now.

Update 2: Well, that's that. ;)

Tyops and grammatical errors in blogs is fun to read

2008-06-09T11:03:00.014-04:00

Accordion to the now nation-renowned website, stuffwhitepeoplelike.com, white people are a fickle, sometimes racist, sometimes hypocritical, always adorable group of yuppies, college-types and rednecks. As I read this blog I'm glad I'm not one of them. I consider myself a Light-Brownish-Peachy-American. A person of modest color, if you will.

In their 99th installment, the writers at swpl once again hit the nail on the head: white people are all about some grammar. And not just Kelsey (get well soon!). But they don't just like grammar. They defend it to the death. If you're not sure whether you're using that semi-colon correctly you probably want to go ahead and prepare yourself for war. I recommend a battle ax. If you find yourself in a crowd of "whities," I recommend that you avoid the your/you're and there/their/they're situation at all costs.

But I'm not here to recapitulate the thesis that was so well developed over at that other honky-hatin' (or lovin'?) blog.

No, my intent is to defend poor grammar (particularly in written form) as well as the sea of typographical errors known as the internet. For, you see, such errors are not just human; such errors don't just speak to the fluid nature of language: they're also hella funny.

I received an email today with the following statement:

It will take approximately on week from today (4/6/2008) for our computer to recognize the new special code.

Obviously, the writer meant "one week."

There are those who would rush to correct the mistake, go so far as to reply to the email with the correction. Most of us would simply read it as the word "one." But I ask, is this the most creative way to see this? Perhaps the writer is intending more than we think. I'll ask you this way: what would Jesus do?

That's right. I think he would blow right through it, reading it exactly as written. He knows the writer's heart. He knows what she meant to type. But He sees, as I think we should all see, the beauty in that simple statement. Hooray!

Let me further explain: it sounds really, really funny out loud. Everybody gets what she's saying. Who cares that she wrote "on" instead of "one?!" Instead of getting all bent out of shape about it, have a good laugh. As a dear friend of mine would say, "don't get mad, get glad!"

Indeed.

There is one other glorious type of "error" that I've left out up until now. It's called, "completely forgetting your context, stupid," and it yields the best kind of laughter: sardonic.

An article was released today by that beacon of never editing . . . ever: CNN. God bless 'em.

The author discusses the misinterpretation of Latino support for Hillary Clinton as racism. And in his fourth paragraph, he made a statement that made my morning:

But, in the last several weeks, as it became clear that Obama was on his way to securing the Democratic nomination and that Clinton's campaign was running out of gas, Latinos seem to have migrated to Obama. (emphasis added)

Awesome. He said "migrated" in an article about Latinos that wasn't even about policy. Awesome.

-j

Victory!

2008-06-04T11:07:00.008-04:00

Yesterday, a milestone was reached; today it has been confirmed. It is a great victory many said would never happen, could never happen. It came in spite of a history that, of itself, diminished such a triumph's chances.

That's right, folks. I'm talking about my first (and second) win(s) in Microsoft Hearts.

This is a story that began long ago . . .

The year was 1993. The platform was Windows 3.1x on a Packard Bell PC. I had conquered Solitaire by virtue of a few years playing the long way (that is, with actual cards), I had unlocked the secrets of SkiFree, successfully evading the abominable snow man, and Fuji Golf had provided all the stress, anger, and existential crises of real golf - only without the green fees. Mine sweeping was second nature to me. I had reached zen through hours of Mah Jongg and green tea. The computer trembled at the thought of facing me in chess. Only one remained: Hearts.

Hearts. A game so dangerous that few even dare test its waters. A game with scoring rules so elusive that it drives players to the brink of insanity. For years I was convinced that the machine had become self-aware, laughing at me with every heart passed to me from the right, or smugly slipping me the Queen of Spades.

Friends, today I stand before you with a message of hope. I ask you, can we defeat this beast called Hearts? can we rise above ourselves, above past defeats that haunt us both day and night? can we march forward into the Start>Programs>Games folder and boldly challenge our opponent - not typing in asdf or qpefj or Player1, but boldly typing in our real name?

Can we win Hearts?

Today I stand before you with the answer: Yes, We Can!

Yes, we can win Hearts. Yes, we can put back together the pieces of a life destroyed too soon by the powers of injustice, malice, and not feeling like reading the rules.

Yes, we can! Yes, we can win the game of Hearts, and win back peace in our own hearts in the process.

Yes, we can!

-j

Celebrate NAAM!

2008-06-02T15:01:00.010-04:00

Yesterday I played the accordion at church. That's always a good time.

Today I woke to this t-shirt design on shirt.woot.com:

The description mentioned something about National Accordion Awareness Month. I was intrigued.

After a thorough investigation on Google, I found out the following two things:

There is a National Accordion Awareness Month.

This is it.

Apparently there is a growing problem in our country: it seems that there are accordions and that people aren't aware of them. At least not aware enough for the beauraucracy. Because there was a dearth of NAAM information on the web I thought I'd compile a few tidbits here.

The accordion (spelled with an -ion, not an -ian; an accordian is a person from Accordia. Or one who drives a Honda sedan) was invented in 1822 in Berlin, probably by a deaf person. They produce sound by passing wind across wooden reeds. For this reason they are considered wind instruments, not keyboard instruments. In fact, only piano accordions have keys. Other accordions have buttons. They're called button accordions. Like this one:

Hooray for accordions!

-j

p.s. Ladies, if you run into an accordionist this month, it is proper etiquette to give him a big hug. Kisses if he's really good. Or if he plays other stuff, too. Or whatever.

Yes, titles are hard

2008-06-02T14:28:00.004-04:00

So this is Blogger. This is a lot easier than my old blog using RapidWeaver. What a pain that was.

Welcome to lifeaccordiontome.blogspot.com. Hopefully I can come up with an official title (maybe that'll be it), but until such a time I'll settle for what's up here now.

I want to start this thing off by saying (to the estimated 0.3 visitors to these blog - on average, that is) that I have no delusions of grandeur here. I don't expect to blog past my next post. If I've learned anything in college it's that if you set the bar exceedingly low you'll be pleasantly surprised by what you can accomplish.

I don't know why I'm even writing this entry. I'm going to immediately write another entry of a very different, but, perhaps related (we could all be so lucky), subject matter. It's a bit absurd, I suppose, to write a welcome and introduction to a blog doomed from the start. Ah, well.

Enjoy!

-j