.::Daniel E. King

Anyone See the movie Liar Liar?

Someone edited this SOTUA. This is funny.

Nintendo Favorites Sung Acapella

Mario Brothers, Mortal Combat, Tetris, and Zelda

nintendo 64

Pretend the year is 1980ish, remove the girl from the video, trade out the 64 for a Ninendo Entertainment System and what you have is an intimate peek into the life-and-times of Micah King, my brother.

300 Journal #7

Based on the epic graphic novel by Frank Miller, 300 is a ferocious retelling of the ancient Battle of Thermopylae in which King Leonidas (Gerard Butler) and 300 Spartans fought to the death against Xerxes and his massive Persian army.

300 Journal #1

Based on the epic graphic novel by Frank Miller, 300 is a ferocious retelling of the ancient Battle of Thermopylae in which King Leonidas (Gerard Butler) and 300 Spartans fought to the death against Xerxes and his massive Persian army. Facing insurmountable odds, their valor and sacrifice inspire all of Greece to unite against their Persian enemy, drawing a line in the sand for democracy. The film brings Miller’s (Sin City) acclaimed graphic novel to life by combining live action with virtual backgrounds that capture his distinct vision of this ancient historic tale.

"Crikey! 'e stung me in me 'art"

Steve Irwin died Monday, 4 September 2006 as a result of a stingray tail wound to his heart.  While his death is tragic there is something sinisterly humorous about it.  I think the general response is something similar to:  "if you wrestle with an alligator, eventually it'll get'cha."  That doesn't make his death necessarily funny because, after at all, a 'gator didn't get 'em, a stingray did.  I think, for me at least, the reason I can say I am deeply sad (and mean it) while laughing,  has to do with incongruity between my expectation of what a death for a man such as this would look like and what actually happened.  With hindsight it is easy to say that it was only a matter of time, insomuch as any death is for people who take high-risks.  I imagine his death is comparable to a race-car driver or a stuntman who die whilst driving in the Indie or setting themselves on fire, respectively.  Steve Irwin died from an animal, and on that level, it just makes sense.  The irony, I guess, comes from the actual animal that took this man's life, i.e. a stingray.  According to a statistic I heard on radio 980 KMBC, host Darla Jay, Steve is only the second person in sixty years to die from a stingray.  To me that is the IRONY (whereas irony is that which is incongruent with expectation).  Liken it to Johnny Knoxville of MTVs' Jackass dieing because he tripped and hit his head while running to perform a stunt where he was going to staple his manhood to the bumper of a moving car or an even better example would be a famous race-car driver dieing from a horrible wreck on a go-cart.

I can't help but think that his last words on this earth were:

"Crikey!  'e stung me in me 'art!"

Steve Irwin, you will be missed.

Excessivenesses:

I get a call at work from an employee that’s due within the hour.  I hang up the phone frustrated.  I start developing a headache.  I dial through my list of options.  Interestingly, not a single answer.  I leave messages.  I wait.  No call backs.

Relatives of my staff tend to die towards the end of summer, statistically it seems to occur most often on Friday, and without question, the relatives lived far enough away that the entire weekend is needed off from work.  I have never attempted to verify the claims although I seriously considered it tonight.*

To occupy the six hours of my inherited life guarding duties I count the number of patrons who swim in the pool.** In addition to this I also count the number of towels used throughout the evening.  According to my observations and assuming I did not miss or add an entry, or miscount a single towel, there were a total of 60 swimmers (59 until seven‘til close) and 300 towels used.***

This means that five towels are used per person on average.  The towels come in three sizes each capable of holding roughly 12, 16, or 22 oz of water, respectively.  After rounding down, the towel average maximum water absorption volume (AMWAV) is roughly 16 ounces.**** 

Calculating the number of towels used by the AMWAV and dividing by 128 you get 37.5, or 37.5 gallons.***** This means that in order to fully utilize the towels they take, the average swimmer (4’8’’ and female) would have to carry roughly .63 gallons of water externally.  At 6’1” and 180 pounds (roughly 2.8 times more volume than the average swimmer) I am not able to extract even a drop of water from the towel I use post-shower. 

The observations lead me to conclude that there is a serious problem at the Carriage Club Country Club concerning irresponsible towel usage. 

I predicted the outcome partway through my observations but was unable to address it given that my hands were tied because there may (or may not) have been a funeral.  Thank God the night is over.  I still have a headache.

*Consider might be a misnomer; it is more accurate to say I found humor in the absurdity that verification of this claim would lead to A) the possibility that the teenage employee was lying or B) he was not.+  I didn't like these options.

**  The difficulties of tracking the number of times a swimmer entered, exited and then reentered would have not only been overwhelming but completely irresponsible for someone whose primary job function is maintaining relentless focus on those currently in the water.++

***Two-hundred and ninety-four towels were used and then I had stubbornly refused to make available more.  When person number sixty entered the water I was motivated in a way that was a bit zealous and foreign to the whole member-towel-acquisition process but nonetheless caused six addition towels to enter circulation.+++

**** Why did I round down and not up?  I guess relationally, I feel 16 is closer to me than 17.++++ 

*****Given that the sun is constanly removing moisture from a used towel by evaporation, and coupled with the occasional post-swim refusal to use one, I will assume they cancle each other out and not factor in multiple drying sessions. 

+The probability that he is lying is greater both logically and rationally.# The chance that he is actually telling the truth and the subsequent awkwardness confirming it with mom or dad would bring, makes verification a non-option for me.

++ The overwhelmingness-ness was actually my primary reason for not counting reentries.

+++Purposefully tainted for the sake of easy calculations for the sake of quick analysis for the sake of what rest assured will be overgeneralized conclusions supporting my deep held belief that human beings are unconscious to their excessive tendencies and/or/both we just plain don’t give a shit.

++++i.e. my familiarity with the 16 oz plastic wide-mouth miller-lite excuse-to-consume-more-while-still-ably-maintaining(what sound like)-socially-responsabale-replies-to-The-unavoidable-question bottle.##

#The mysterious rise in out-of-state relative’s deaths happens to coincide with weekend nights and usually occurs when there is increased talk around the scuttlebucket of things like “the biggest game of the year” or “an awesome party at this dudes’ parents’ friends’ ranch lake house that the cops can’t get into because it’s like private property and there will be like 4 kegs and we’ll have a huge fire.” 

##The unavoidable:  "How many have you had?"

The best of Phillip Larkin ("that's just like your opinion, man.")

Is it for now or for always:

Is it for now or for always,
The world hangs on a stalk?
Is it a trick or a trysting-place,
The woods we have found to walk?

Is it a mirage or miracle,
Your lips that lift at mine:
And the suns like a juggler's juggling-balls,
Are they a sham or a sign?

Shine out, my sudden angel,
Break fear with breast and brow,
I take you now and for always,
For always is always now.

Ignorance:

Strange to know nothing, never to be sure
Of what is true or right or real,
But forced to qualify or so I feel,
Or Well, it does seem so:
Someone must know.

Strange to be ignorant of the way things work:
Their skill at finding what they need,
Their sense of shape, and punctual spread of seed,
And willingness to change;
Yes, it is strange,

Even to wear such knowledge - for our flesh
Surrounds us with its own decisions -
And yet spend all our life on imprecisions,
That when we start to die
Have no idea why.

Nothing to be said:

For nations vague as weed,
For nomads among stones,
Small-statured cross-faced tribes
And cobble-close families
In mill-towns on dark mornings
Life is slow dying.

So are their separate ways
Of building, benediction,
Measuring love and money
Ways of slowly dying.
The day spent hunting pig
Or holding a garden-party,

Hours giving evidence
Or birth, advance
On death equally slowly.
And saying so to some
Means nothing; others it leaves
Nothing to be said.

To put one brick upon another:

To put one brick upon another,
Add a third and then a forth,
Leaves no time to wonder whether
What you do has any worth.

But to sit with bricks around you
While the winds of heaven bawl
Weighing what you should or can do
Leaves no doubt of it at all.

This is the first thing:

This is the first thing
I have understood:
Time is the echo of an axe
Within a wood.

Baby's Full Throttle

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Yesterday, Lindsay turned towards me with eyes that were surprised by joy and a mouth that hung somewhere between wonderment and confusion. "Give me your hand," she said. Lindsay placed my hand on the right side of her belly. "Do you feel that?" "No?" After moving my hand around a few more times, it happened. All at once my face went tingly and warm. Suddenly I was glowing with the same excitement as Lindsay. Now past the soft palpations of light movement, Baby king is full throttle and racing towards the finish. I have never felt a Baby push outward from the depths of the womb. I am glad that my first experience like this was with my Baby.

Tom Robbins' Quotes

--"But I can't open the pack," she'd try to explain. "If I did all this would collapse. A successful external reality depends upon an internal vision that is left intact." They glared at her the way any intelligent persons ought to glare when what they need is a smoke, a bite, a piece of a**, a cup of coffee, or a good fast-paced story, and all they're getting is philosophy." ---Tom Robbins

--“Philosophers have argued for centuries about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, but materialists have always known it depends on whether they are jitterbugging or dancing cheek to cheek” ---Tom Robbins

--"Teachers who offer you the ultimate answers do not possess the ultimate answers, for if they did, they would know that the ultimate answers cannot be given, they can only be received." ---Tom Robbins

Jeff Dannemiller was my junior and senior high school English teacher.  I asked him for book recommendations my junior year and he let me borrow two Tom Robbins' books and one book entitled, Chicken Poop for the Soul.  I really liked Jeff and I still have his books (Katy Raymond is borrowing Chicken Poop and Stewart Redwine has Still Life With a Wood Pecker).  I have made it my goal to find Jeff Danamiller and return his books.  Everyone needs a goal, right?