Graduations, End of Semesters, and an Old Bed

This past week my girlfriend graduated from college with Bachelor's degree in Communication with a minor in Psychology. I'm way proud of her! Here's a picture of her and her sister at her graduation. Congratulations Amy!



Today I was faced with daunting task of getting my room assembled. Each semester I am forced to remove all my possessions from the room at my school, and find some manner of temporary abode for them in my room. Fortunately, my mother had some spare boxes and I was able to store much of it in an unused corner of the garage.

But I get ahead of myself. Before I could even think about what I was going to do with all the junk that was filling up most of my car, I first had to make space for it in my room by getting it cleaned up. As I began the first round of cleanings, I had an awesome idea. Earlier, my mom had mentioned that since the frame for my bed was broken, I should just use the frame that my Grandfather Bennett had made for me when I was 8 months old (By 6 months, I had made it quiet clear to my mother that I would not stand being in a crib).

It should have been easy, right? I take the pieces out of the garage, dust them off, put them together and I'm done. 30 minutes top. I have come to adopt a new moto in life when it comes to projects: "The easier a project should be, the more time it's going to take". Things started out bad when my shoulder informed me that I had slept on it wrong and was going to make life unbearably painful the more I tried to use it. But I was determined to get this done, so I muscle through the pain and attempt to do this two person project by myself.

Fortunately, my mom came to the rescue with an extra pair of hands and a pair of Aleeve tablets. We managed to get the frame together when I realized that the box frame (the thing that the matress sits on) was too large to fit in the frame my granddad made. Oh well, that's no big problem, for as long as I can remember, we've always just used a piece of plywood with this bed and it's worked fantastically.

After a short debate with my mom about how wide I should get the plywood cut, I run off to Lowe's to procure my item. As I'm walking in, I decide that my mom was probably right about erring on the side of caution with the width of the board and decide to get it cut to the exact width of the frame. A short time later I leave with my cut plywood (which cost me an extra 5 dollars since someone had mislabled a section of plywood), arrived home, and carried the wood upstairs. With mom's help we set the plywood in place only to find it was an inch to wide. Oops.

Thankfully, mom is used to dealing with frustrated Bennett men, and we quickly cut off an inch of the wood and fit in back into place with no problems. I hope that this bed will continue to last me for another 24 years and my kids will get to enjoy the bed that their great-grandpa made for their dad. All in all, it goes quite nicely with my wood shelves, the Benny's Place sign, and the bookcase, the desk, the floor... my room is very woodsy. Here's picture of the bed.


The washcloths are there to keep the metal bolts from damaging the mattress, and the suitcase is only there because I'm going to use it tomorrow to go see my best friend (who isn't Amy ;) ) in our annual Christmas time get together.

Oh, and after we finally got everything worked out with the bed (7:30) I was able to get my stuff in from my car and got done around 10:30. It was a very profitable day which started at 11:30 with me heading out to do the last of my Christmas shopping!

Graduations, End of Semesters, and an Old Bed

How I wish I were joking

Barak Obama has had a lot of dark secrets that has cropped up in the course of this election time. From being a secret Muslim, to belonging to a church run by a crazy lunatic (is it redundant to use crazy to modify the word lunatic?), to some of the more recent, he's not eligible to be president because he is not a natural born citizen (the Supreme Court is refusing to take the case for reasons they won't tellm, which you gotta admit regardless of the validity of the situtation, that seems underhanded of them, I think they've expanded their power a little beyond what they were supposed to).

However, the most recent, and by far the most pathetic controversy in the Obama camp? Whether or not he uses Microsoft's Zune MP3 player instead of the Apple iPod.

I wish I were joking. His campaign team has lunched a slew of releases stating emphatically that he is an iPod users and it must have been one of his SS men, or perhaps a daughter (who got it from where?) who was using it.

But why all the fuss? Because of the response, people are litterally saying they have no faith in Obama to run America because he owns a Zune! Come on guys! Wasn't the fact that this guy's policies are the same things Clinton did that set up the Bank crash a bigger worry? Or what about the fact that the guy has a remarably undisguished career? Or, I dunno, what about the fact that any white guy who had the credenticals and plans Obama had never would have even been elected to represent the democratic ticket let alone won the presidency race? I kinda count those things as a little more solid ground for lossing faith in someone.

It's a brave new world President-hopefuls, make sure to be a good little consumer lemming and bring your iPod.

How I wish I were joking

The conclusion of my PS2 adventure

So, when I bought the PS2 I was informed that the reason it was so cheap was the the 1st player port did not work. I thought to myself, "I don't see why I should worry about that, I'm the only one who ever plays Video games anyways at my house" and promptly saved myself 30 bucks. Well as I did some research on the PS2, I decided that I most definitely wanted to install a hard drive on it so I could play games from the Hard drive instead of having to deal with the painfully long load times of the CD/DVD (as mentioned yesterday).

Much to my joy, I found that my local Gamestop carried the Network adapter (remember Network adapter = hard drive?) and instead of it being 30 dollars it was a scant 10! Once I arrived there, I inquired the Gamestop employee where said item was and was informed that the adapter was attached to another PS2 already and they could not give it to me since they didn't have the back plate to cover up the hole left by it. Fortunately I had my PS2 with me in the car with said back plate and convinced them to let me trade my back plate for their adapter (I still had to pay for it of course).

Armed with everything I needed for my set up, I traveled home and inserted a certain disc to allow me to install my hard drive and play games from it. And then I hit "a snag". Turns out this disc only responds to a controller plugged into the 1st player port... you know, the broken one. And just like that, my new PS2 was in pieces on the floor as I searched for the problem. Long story short, the cable that attached the controller ports to the motherboard was loose. It would have been a simple thing to fix... if I hadn't taken apart the entire thing.

As I attempted to reinsert the cable, I realized that the PS2 had designed the cable holder in a fascinating way. The cable in question was just a flat, paper thin cable. To make sure this cable didn't become dislodged, the holder would clamp down on the cable. I found this out just in time for the clamp to break on one end. A quick superglue and electrical tape job later, and I was back in action! At some point I'll buy a replacement piece for it, but right now I'm okay with this solution (plus the replacement pieces cost 25 bucks in most places, if I wanted to spend that much I would have just bought the thing new!). With the first player port now working, it was a simple matter to install the hard drive and copy the discs over to it.

Now one thing I should mention about this software I installed to let me copy the games... the original software it was based on was shut down by Sony (the maker of PS2). Their contention was that by making it such that the game CD is not needed to play the game, the software created piracy solutions where the user could buy the game, copy it, then turn around and return it while keeping the game on their hard drive. And I understand this concern. If Sony had been smart however, they would have simply made it so the game would run from the hard drive only when the game CD was present in the drive (most modern games work like this on the computer). Then they would have made a fortune of selling PS2 compatible Hard drives larger than the official 40GB hard drive.

Regardless, I believe in showing corporations that not every gamer is out to rob them blind (in fact, most aren't and their anti-piracy measures are only hurting the people following the rules). Which is why I have no problem in using a software based on another software shut down by a corporation provided I use it to the fullest legal extent of only making backup copies of my games that will be deleted in the event that I ever sell said game.

Remember kids, always read the EULA so you can know your rights and do things like this to the full extent of the law!

The conclusion of my PS2 adventure

PS2 don't you know you're obsolete?

The following is an e-mail I sent to my mom.

Subject: And right before finals

Message:

Dear Mom:

Love Matt

The true joke of the matter being that mom my is absolutely terrified of what video games do to my life and I knew it. So when I bought this, I made sure no to buy a power cable or cable to attach it to the TV (okay, so I didn't buy those because I already had them, but that's besides the point). All I really lack is a memory card so I can save my game.

But here's where the problem came up. After doing some research I learned 2 things. 1) I really want to buy a network adapter for the PS2 just so I can install a hard drive (I'm not joking you have to buy a network adapter to install a hard drive) so I can save my discs to the hard drive. 2) The price for ANY PS2 item (with the possible exception of the games) has remained at a static price across the board. No matter where you go, everyone sales the same 5 items for the single price of $30 (or more for some items).

It quiet astounded me. I mean, these aren't even the new items, these are the used by 20 different people over the course of its 8 year life-span. You'd think that I'd get a little discount for it being used at least. It seems doubly weird when you consider that the PS2 hardware is now completely outdated with the advent of the PS3. If anything for the PS2 was going to stay locked at a certain price, it should be the games (which are both awesome and playable on the PS3) instead of the hardware (which while being cool for the PS2 is largely useless for the PS3).

Equally fascinating is if you go to eBay and search for these items, they are being bought up at tremendous rates. The more one tries to bid for an item lately the more some guy with the name m**3 comes in and bids higher (which is another weird thing, what's up with the letter double * number names on eBay?) a LOT higher.

Oh well, little by little I get this set up by the time school it out for winter! Current titles: Kingdom Hearts and Ico (Ico may be more universally recognized as the first part to a recent release; Shadow of the Colossus)

Edit: I just learned that the ** thing on eBay is part of their ID masking service so people don't know what your name is if you win the item by being a complete jerk. AWESOME.

PS2 don't you know you're obsolete?

Final weeks!

Sorry guys, you still don't get the end of that story! Or the thing about Christian Music! HA HA HA you have no choice but to wait for finals to be over! (or for me to update in an attempt to procrastinate against studying)

Final weeks!

And to think that I saw it on Matlock Street

I saw quiet the interesting event take place yesterday as I drove to my dad's office. As I approached an intersection, in the dedicated right turn lane, a little fender bender happened. It was nothing major, the pickup in the rear thought the car in the front should keep going through the red light and tail ended him a little. From what I could tell there was no major damage.

So a black guy get out of the truck in back and a white guy gets out of the car in front and they begin to exchange insurance information as just about any two young preppy males of my age group would, by shoving each other. Of course this isn't anything unusual to me and with the light being green and all I start to drive past them.

Right as I get next to them (I was in the lane immediately adjacent to them) the white guy decides that shoving isn't cutting it for him and proceeds to punch the black man. And, just like Pringles slogan says, once he popped (him on in the face) he just couldn't stop. The black guy tried quiet useless to punch the white guy back, but was immediately overwhelmed and the white guy proceeded to beat him to the ground between the cars, then stood over him and continued to beat down on this black guy.

At this point I'm just barely through the intersection. I can tell this white guy isn't gonna stop till the black guy is dead in all likelihood and drive down to the next light to pull a U-turn and get back there, hopefully with enough time to scare the white guy away with the black guy still breathing. By the time I get there, the white guy has already sped off in his car, and the black guy is getting helped by several (I saw at least 10) store employees who had run out to his defense.

Behold the fruit of a generation of idiots. In all honesty, I wouldn't have been surprised at all the see the white guy be one of the people who live across the hall from me at my Baptist College. They're always going on swearing sprees about how horrible this school is and how they hate everyone it. Maybe if their parents had loved them enough to discipline them. Anyone know the charges the white guy would be facing (other than a bogus hate crime charge that the news would try to stick to him of course)?

And as a side note? I think Grandma and I are the only people who semi-regularly update their blogs. I wonder what's going on with the rest of my family. Daniel knows I can't very well just call them ;)

And to think that I saw it on Matlock Street

Hey remember that story?

You know it was a story I was doing back in March about a dream I had? Well I hadn't forgotten about it, just didn't have time to finish it. I'm gonna do that this week (or at least try). So if you want you can refresh your memories with

Part 1

and

Part 2

Part 3 is posted here with some changes and a little extra at the end. I basically stopped it before I was ready to stop it last time, and took it on to the point that I wished to end this section. Also fixed were spelling mistakes (the ones I noticed a least) and some continuity/word changes to make it flow better with the rest of the story.

So, without further delay, Part 3:

I stepped out onto the harsh, unforgiving area surrounding the mountain and immediately felt the unforgiving wind attack. Relentlessly, the wind tore at my skin and bit at my eyes. Raising my arms to shield my face, I approached the mountain and began to search for a path over it. Its jagged terrain seemed equally inhospitable no matter where I looked. The mountain slopes seemed to have been forcefully discharged from the Earth at a daunting angle as if it had been rejected by the ground that once harbored it. Though a part of me desired to find a less severe path, the longer I spent on the scorched ground, the less my makeshift shoes protected me from the severe heat. Already I had to constantly swap my weight from foot to foot to keep either from burning.

Driven only by my determination to obey the lamb, I stepped onto the mountain, grasped a rough outcropping and began to scale what seemed to be as good as a place as any. My efforts were quickly rewarded as I climbed above the wisps of dust and left the heat of that unforgiving ground behind. My victory was short lived, however, as the intensity of the wind rapidly increased. Each inch I climbed was a painful battle that taxed my weary muscles against the downward gusts that threatened to tear me away from the mountainside and fling me into the air.
Slowly, painfully, I dragged myself up the mountainside. After what seemed to be an eternity, I found myself past the extreme slope at the base of the mountain and before a great, winding path as unwelcoming and devoid of life as the base of the mountain. I found a spot relatively free of wind and lay gasping for breath and assuaging my weary muscles.

Having regained some strength, I stood and peered over the wall I had just scaled expecting to find a great distance between myself and the ground below. To my dismay, I found that I had only come 10 yards at most from the mountain base. Dumbfounded, I began to struggle along the craggy path before me as I silently wept.
Each step I took along the path was fraught with pain and danger as my foot slid across the uneven ground. The shoes that had protected me against the heat now threatened to end my life as they leaked what little water they still contained. Though I tried to step carefully, the ground seemed to be ever changing. What I thought was flat ground actually tilted to the side. What I thought was slanted was actually a jagged point that nipped at the soles of my feet. Each stumbled threatened to send me tumbling all the way to the base of the mountain. No matter how I stepped, my feet would either find a sharp point or slide into a pinching outcropping.

As I stubbornly pressed on, I finally began to grown thirsty and hungry. I searched for some gathering of water that could have pooled from some previous rain, but despite the dark clouds that loomed above, I felt that the mountain had never been touched by the gentle kiss of rain. I wearily plodded onward hopping that the end of this mountain would reveal an area like the field I had left. It was then that I became keenly aware of time’s relentless march. Where before I was certain that many days had passed while I wondered in that beautiful field without ever growing tired, I now needed frequently increasing breaks.

Abruptly, I found myself at the precipice of an intimidating cliff. Gazing out, I saw an endless, flat expanse. Like the mountain, the expanse was devoid of life. Long dead trees were speckled amidst a sea of blood red sand. At once, I felt both a surge of hope at finding such plentiful wood to burn and a sinking despair that I could find no way down this cliff nor a way back up burdened with wood.

For a moment, it seemed as if the wind’s relentless torrent against my skin abated and instead wisped around me gently as if trying to caress my face or wipe the sweat from my brow. In that moment, the wind seemed to carry a fragrance that made my heart leap. I felt as if I should know this smell, like the scent of a grandfather or grandmother, but the moment was fleeting and left me feeling bitter and abandoned.
Resolved to build a fire, I began to descend the wall of the cliff. Each handhold tore and pinched at my skin, bit and gnawed at my toes, jarred my knees and scraped my face. I had hardly begun my descent when a gust of wind lifted me up and flung me into the air.

Time held its breath for me as for one perilous moment gravity failed to assert its hold over me. Then slowly, like many tiny hands reaching up and grasping at my clothes, I began to fall. Quicker, faster the ground rushed up at me. In vain, I grasped for the wall, but no matter how I moved, it remained just beyond my grasp. With one final desperate lunge, I reached for the wall. Despite all odds, my hand managed to find a hold and my body slammed into cliff face with stunning speed that caused my head to strike a rock jutting out from the wall. The world spun as I hopelessly struggled to regain my senses.

I managed to clear my head just in time to realize that when struck my head, I released my grip and was presently falling head first toward the sandy expanse. Before I had time to try anything, I hit the ground, and the world exploded into stars, then immediately sunk into a black, soundless darkness.

Hey remember that story?