Discriminant Function Analysis

Sunny Day Computer

Beautiful days, bright sunshine and WiFi.Posters advertising for Lakehead University depict young academics, undoubtedly polishing their thesis, on laptop computers in the vast wilderness of 'The North.

Conversely, I am struggling to pump out a few sentences for myself, on the deck beside the pool. Still I have to wonder, first how do they have connectivity (as Lakeheads president refuses to allow WiFi on campus siting a single, poorly rooted American study that acknowledge its results as inconclusive), and second...How can they see their monitor?

Despite technological advancements, robots on mars, rovers under the sea, high-speed and wireless networks, my computer monitor..and every monitor for that, seems to be designed to maintain the computer nerd stereotype. Pale and emaciated basement dwellers who fear the sun.

Please...Internet head my call and spread the message. We are ready to go outside. You have freed us from the wired age and provided us will mobile solutions...now just let me see the screen. 

Discriminat (ion)

I cycle back and forth to the place and time in my life when I enjoy writing. I write all the time, every day, in an old leather bound journal. Some months the pages fill faster than others, but on the whole my pace is rather constant. I lament over thing things I cannot change and do not change the things I love to lament over.

My journal is full of poor spelling and grammar has never been factored into the equation. The little leather bound journal cost me 20 dollars and I have been using it fpr years. Typepad ! You cost me serious money and I pay it annually. As is an April (now May) tradition, my desire to Blog increases do the decrease in funds caused by this simple URL.

With plenty to write, and limited space in my mind you will now be a new dumping ground. A holding tanking for information once discriminated against, once scrutinized over, now you will take my text as discriminant.

 

Jesus Rides A Bicycle

If Bicycles where invented Jesus would have definitely ridden one. While my certainty in Christ is questionable at best I am certain that he (or an individual like him) would have ridden a bicycle. Bicycles are great fun, efficient transportation, environmentally friendly, and for a dude just cruising around spreading thy word cycle power beats sandal power any day.  (perhaps that why Shimano makes an SPD compatible Sandal, after all who would bike in sandals other than Jesus).

 

Theology and history are definitley not a strong points of mine, but making observations and applying these observations to my own preconceived stereotypes is something I am rather proficient at.

Nathan Petrie

In a earlier post, Nathan Petrie is a Prophet (August 2005), I identified some striking similarities between Nathan and Jesus. It should be noted that Nathan's Father owns the store and his office is upstairs. You know .. like god ?? Eh ... eh ? ?? .... what ?

Adam Krupper

Adam Krupper is not a new offender to the scene, and his Jesus like image is not the result of a recent make over but a life long commitment to body hair. Adam Likes sandals, the earth, and he is president of the Lakehead Student Union. He has apostles!

Mr X

Not much can be said about this mysterious figure except that he too rides a bicycle.  You have to meet this individual to understand, and spelling it out would reveal too much, too soon. Wink* Wink*

Positioned in between these apparent "false" Prophets I sit on my stool and adjust the rear drop out of a low end bicycle (similar to the one I in vision Jesus riding .. basket and all). The fact that these  individuals fill some form of a Jesus stereotype never concerned me until a Mr X made the scene.

You see it really is quite simple. Nathan, Adam and the mysterious stranger ride bicycles, and enjoy the ambiance of a bicycle store. Nathans father works upstairs, Adam also has a father .. and he was born in barn.Our mysterious friend who i am being so aloof about, well he could very well be the Masai himself.

And since these three individuals are so akin to Jesus it should be safe to say that if Bicycles were invented, Jesus would have ridden one.

But not a really nice one ... it probably would have been a an older bike with an internal three speed and a basket in the front. And if no basket at least rack in the back ... with a milk crate attached to it with bungee cords.

On the Author
Chris Crawford  is  completing a Degree in atheism  from the University of Evolution and in the event the Mormons (and South Park) were right he is reserving a front row seat in Hell.

Molsted Prince

Internet backgammon, I am your slave. Hours, Days, even weeks have been wasted bathing in the cool glow of my LCD. Champion Jack Dupree buzzes over an out dated sound system, giving me the third degree.

My increased rate of play has lead to several things, the least of which include the expansion of my favourite play list and a a total aversion to television. In efforts to step my game up I moved up a wight class, a play class ... I simply changed venues.The switch seamed easy, just play on the web  instead....after navigating incompatible web browsers and pop up blockers I succeeded.

The possibility of varied game types, chat, and a new on-line community may attract people to play at the Zone, I am not one of them. With little interest in my real community the thought of socializing with digital versions of my neighbour provides no allure.

My true interest, desire, lust to play Backgammon in this on-line community rests within my narcissistic soul. I want to keep track, I want points, awards, badges, and ranking. I think I am pretty dam good, and I want the world to see it.

Propelled by my preoccupation with personal importance I proceed to develop my on-line persona. For the first two matches (1) I played as "guest". If I was to become the champion on checkerdom I needed an Nick, and identity. I needed something that set me apart and identify me as being truly great. As a sign of fame to come, in an opulent fashion I enter my Nick. My new identity ... 'Chris'.

Unfortunately and mysteriously this handle had already been procured for use, and its current owner was unavailable for any sort of negotiation. traditionally I would fall back on the slightly less popular "Crowfoot" or virtually unknown "CmCrawfo" and (2) in times of distress .... I turn to the Internets suggestion.   

These are the suggestions.

May I draw your attention to 'MolestedPrince'

This is my interpretation (3).

May I draw your attention to the Molested Prince

Unfortunately, like most of my writing, this story is anti-climatic. While MSN is more than willing to suggest names like 'MolestedPrince' as a synonym for 'Chris', It will not allow use of the name due to inappropriate language.

notes

(1) I lost both matches, and have yet win a single game.
(2) Crawford is another fall back, but i thought it would be too much considering the 'Crawford rule for backgammon
(3) Obviously there are other interpretations, some funnier than others. PhotoShoping the image of a young prince being molested by what/whom ever is just too creepy.

 

Google Chris Crawford

An old man sits in his rocking chair, face to the sun, he squints to block out the light. His grand children gather around him as he tell stories about his youth. The children laugh, they mock him, and in jestful disbelief they listen. He tells of times before the Internet, when candy cost a dollar, and when Canada had a liberal government.

"You know I had my own web site"
"duh..everyone has a URL assigned to them at birth grandpa"
"I know Timmy, I am talking about a time before that, when people paid to use the Internet"
"Paid to use the Internet.. why would any one do that?"
"Johnny, at one time you paid for the Internet because it was full of free porno and music"
"hahah, ya right"
"Look kids! Shut up, grandpa is telling a story. I had a website, it was poorly laid out, and underdeveloped... I even built it with a template. The point is, at one time you could Google my name. You could Google Chris Crawford and there I was, on page 1 of 1214834434."
"wow"
"Then it happened, page 10..page 30... page 112 .... why? why? ...oh why....."
"its ok grandpa don't cry"
"Shut up you bastards, I'll tell you why! Because Chris Crawford, a video game designer from the 80's decided to be famous again. That bastard, him and the dam Jesus lover who makes knives .. URL stealing freak"

In amazement and fear, the children slowly wash out into the sun. The old man is left alone in his chair  as usual. His tears drying in the sun, the old man looks up and laughs...

"I was on page 1"

I was on page 1, the old man is me, Chris Crawford is a bastard! I want my Google ranking back!

Brooms and fans, dust pan dams, heater cords and sodden boards. Soaking wet socks on the concrete floor. With the sun the season comes, spring has sprung … a leak.

From My Journal

For the most my journal is just that... mine. I write in it what I can not, will not, write here. It is my paper back original, father of the digital son. Accompanying me every were, unlimited, unhindered, free to come and go. Unlike its younger offspring my journal is not an exhibitionist. More of a holding tank, a thought pool, a think tank. Reserving ideas, like lake LochLomond reserves water. Held on private, sacred, treaty land. The fluid of thought is released through broad, bandwidth, pipelines connecting it to the city, community, world. All the water can not, should not, will not be shared at once. No matter the prize or payment... costs would be to high, and levels left too low.

But this is not me in the journal, it is some one else. This statement is not mine, but formed a memory, an entry, an inspiration. inspired by more than a keen sense of hearing, who was this man, what where they talking about, was his statement valid, why did I hear it so well.

October 14 2005

"Everybody is addicted to something, they are attached and, in that sense they are attached to this physical world."  - anonymous gray haired man in late 40's walking past my car at the marina. 342 pm oct 14 2005. With a taller dark haired gentleman approx the same age, who was carrying a coffee, XL, in a black take out cup

Stan Makita’s (?) Roll up The Rim To Win (?)!

 

Roll up the rim is back! Why am I excited? Beside the fact that my last Tim Horton/ Roll Up The Rim To Win post drew more Goggle traffic than the word ‘Uniboob’, I again have an opportunity to win Cash, Cars, and other prizes … but more than likely I will win the every cherished “Chance to Play Again”.

 More often than not I am up to speed with the roll up the rim situation. This year, due to a significant reduction in coffee consumption, I was blind sided by the contest. Sitting… no laying at home the advertisement beamed from my radiation box and bathed my skin in the warm light of free coffee, doughnuts and tempting red cups. Large double doubles dance in my head, while visions of sugar coated crullers lure me from bed.

 This year I hope to collect some data of my own on this shady contest. My original Tim Horton (not to be confused with Stan Makita) post “Roll up the Rim to get Ripped” wasn’t based so much on “facts” and “statistics” and more on “feelings” and “opinions”.

 Stay tuned for more adventures in Rim Rolling, Rim Jobs, Rim Shots, and Rim Misses.

She Calls it the Ocean

It’s a big lake; it’s a really big lake. The big laker loading at United Agricor A is spewing ballast. You can spend an entire life time in this city and never see the lake. I wedge myself between the elevator and the ship building yard. From the water stand pillars, all that’s left of the original dock; the smell of life and the sound of the birds. Envisioned in black and white the scene is time less, and could be related to any period; the tug, a break wall, and Pascol Engineering’s crane. The boom moves back and forth up and down, pivoting on its axis. Nothing is being taken on or off the ship in dry dock. I wonder if the operator is watching me watch him. This is dance, and act, a ballet; Performed by him for me. We entertain each other, him with the crane, and me with the camera. I climb off the 10ft fence; my camera is empty and full. The film has be used, film filled. The public launch, a seagull’s lunch, the remains of a longshoreman’s legacy. She calls it the ocean, but it’s a really big lake.   

Oh Jesus, its a Cartoon

What has the world come to, it is no longer safe to make light of spiritual figures.  Thank God I can still poke fun at Jesus.

Flowers and Fish Heads

Flowers to the PEI Student newspaper that published these cartoons in Canada

Fish heads to the people who wont publish them

The Obvious

Freedom of speech, this is what America is fighting for, your freedom. The freedom to live, eat breath, and speak. Join with me America, and never publish these cartoons again! Give up your freedom of speech, like so many other freedoms, to protect Freedom of Speech.

The Facts (ish)

Most north Americans don't get it. Not only do they not get the cartoons, but they don't get the middle east, or the Muslim world. Here are the Facts as we know them;

1. These cartoons make fun of this guy "Mohammad"
2. The cartoons are not very funny
3. The cartoons don't appear to be offencive (no swearing, no porno, on drugs)
4. Muslims hate them

Cartoons, the media, and my self have been making fun of Jesus since he was a cowboy. We make fun of God like the Rapture is a fairy tale. So to see crowds of school children burning flags and screaming hate over the publication of cartoons is mind blowing.

The(ir) Solution

Stop publishing the cartoons, stop making fun of Mohammad. Then they will stop burning flags, spreading the word of hate, and fire bombing embassies.

Probable Response

America! now is your chance to declare a global Jihad on Muslims! Blur the lines once again, just as Saddam and Bin Laden became one, just as you are merging Iran into Iraq, Take this wonderful CNN footage and spin and doctor it. This is your gift from God, George W. prayed for this with the rest of the country. Blend Muslim with terror!

"We need a war to show them that we can" - FisherSpooner

Two Worlds

Simply no one understands. We don't understand one another, or another culture. We bread intolerance under the Flag for freedom and democracy. We pray to our God for the wisdom to see and understand how a State can be so influenced by religion. Thank the Lord that the State of the Union is strong, and under the guiding light of the Holy Spirit we will lead the way into A battle for global peace.