Tales Of Brave Ulysses

East of the Sun, West of the Moon

Archive for April, 2007

links for 2007-04-30
04 30th, 2007

Guam On Colbert Report
04 30th, 2007

Okay, I don’t watch much television, but Madeleine Bordallo’s appearance on the Colbert Report is today’s water cooler topic around the office. It is a pretty funny bit, and yes Bordallo is pretty funny too. Strangers with Candy indeed.


Well, that just about sums it up folks. Advice on saving the planet from the people who couldn’t save Planet Hollywood. I’m pretty much convinced we are all screwed at this point.


Sued Over Worm Doo Doo
04 30th, 2007

Hmmm, interesting story about TerraCycle and Scotts, the makers of Miracle-Gro, not Scott, makers of kick ass flip flops that last forever and ever.


links for 2007-04-27
04 27th, 2007

links for 2007-04-25
04 25th, 2007

links for 2007-04-23
04 23rd, 2007

Last night I sat out in Tamuning looking at the huge waves breaking around Alupang Cove. I also saw the search and rescue boats heading north after sunset. I knew somebody got swept over the reef, the waves were big yesterday. This morning paddling in Tumon Bay I could see the same search and rescue boats sweeping along the coast by Two Lover’s; they found a drowned fisherman at first light. He is the fifth drowning death of this year on Guam. Be careful out there folks.


Hmm, something is on my mind. And it isn’t work – it’s time to travel folks. And Europe is on my mind.


Favorite Jobs
04 22nd, 2007

Hmmm, my profession isn’t on the list of 10 most favorite jobs. I wonder why?


A Lesson In Wing Nuttery
04 22nd, 2007

So why do the terrorists hate us so? Because they can’t get a good haircut in Colorado apparently.


links for 2007-04-20
04 20th, 2007


links for 2007-04-19
04 19th, 2007

Ulysses
04 19th, 2007

Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match’d with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy’d
Greatly, have suffer’d greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when
Thro’ scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honour’d of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
For ever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!
As tho’ to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

This is my son, mine own Telemachus,
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,—Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and thro’ soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.

There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil’d, and wrought, and thought with me—That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
‘T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.


Yeah, Taliea’s got a MySpace and it plays one of my favorite songs. So go ahead and surf on over, I won’t mind a bit.


Dirty Loewy Visits Guam
04 19th, 2007


Photo 041607 002


links for 2007-04-18
04 18th, 2007

links for 2007-04-17
04 17th, 2007


links for 2007-04-14
04 14th, 2007

links for 2007-04-13
04 13th, 2007


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