Nafisto the Great

When Shirin and I were in Haifa we loved watching MTV because over there they show the “northern Europe” version which still manages to show more music videos than stupid reality shows about spoiled rich kids in California. With the advent of Google Video and YouTube, I finally managed to find one of our favorite videos by the British group Faithless called I Want More, Part 2.

Enjoy the video HERE.

I was just introduced to the work of Stephen Wiltshire, a 32-year-old Briton who was diagnosed with autism at a young age.  Stephen’s gift is not only his photographic memory but also his ability to draw scenes from memory with an amazing amount of detail.  A video account of his gift is available online.  You can also view and purchase some of Stephen’s drawings from his web site.

(Obviously I don’t have anything important or profound to say this morning. Or ever, really.)

I can’t stand when people use adjectives as nouns. Two specific cases that drive me absolutely crazy:

“We’re not sure corporate is going to fund that.” [corporate WHAT?]
“We just got a letter from national about xyz.” [national WHO?]

I heard a talk by Ruhiyyih Khanum once where she said that young people are getting lazy in their use of language. Well, apparently those “young people” have taken over the English language.

She also complained about the overuse of acronyms–don’t even get me started on my rant about UHJ, NSA or (the most egregious sin) the use of a single letter “B” to refer to Bahá’u'lláh. (I’ve seen all of these in formal emails and letters from Bahá’ís.)

I finally made it back home to Virginia this morning. Being away from home and living out of a hotel stinks–but mad props to my brother Sam and his wife Sogol for being such gracious hosts and keeping me company in the big ATL.

I thought the airport would be a lot crazier than it was, but it was pretty quiet. The TSA security line took all of 45 seconds (it pays to know the “hidden” checkpoint at the T-gates at the ATL airport). The big problem was the United check-in line–45 minutes in line only to find out that I was in the premier line and that the peasant line would have had me through in about 10. Of course, I just smiled and appreciated the lady who was extra nice to me and personally took my luggage (presumably thinking I’m a hot-shot flyer).

Speaking of luggage… there were piles of bags just sitting around the airport. No idea where they came from or when they’d be retrieved, but it is a field day for would-be thieves. Help yourself to the one that looks best. And pray that the cameras don’t catch you walking out with it….

I got a funny email today. I guess someone was trying to send out spam to a gazillion people using automatic emailing software… but it seems they forgot to set it up right. So I got this:

Here’s what it should have looked like (I know because I’ve gotten this one about a dozen times):

I have a feeling that if we took all of the money, resources and human effort that goes into spamming and redirected to a noble cause, we could probably create a utopia where humans would be so happy and healthy that we wouldn’t need di et pil ls, Cana]da pr/scription med=z, increased six drive, LOW FINAN$E RATE$, Vi@gra or C.ia.lis sof.ta.bs.

I’m not sure what’s worse: the damage that is being done to the environment, the high water bill someone’s gonna get, or the psychological trauma of hearing a drip every few seconds for 12 hours straight. Somehow I have a feeling that it’s the last one–if you see me on the news tomorrow then you can be sure of it.

Hotel life sucks. True, Marriott Courtyard isn’t exactly the Four Seasons. And in all fairness they have done a pretty good job “catering to the business traveler”. But the bottom line is that life away from home isn’t cool: it’s impossible to get the room temperature up above 69 degrees, Internet access is ridiculously slow (but free!), and the bathtub has decided that I deserve to be subjected to a 500-year-old torture method.

The worst part? Being away from my lovely wife Shirin.

It’s not all bad though–at least the beds are comfortable. Speaking of which………..

Here I am. Turn the page.