I’m going to stop posting to this domain. I mean I kind of have already, right? :) My last post was over 3 years ago.
I used to maintain separate web sites for all my different activities. One as a blog, one as a place for book reviews, another where I posted about code and projects I was working on. I think that’s it. I do have one more for our ministry but that needs to be its own thing.
Anyway now what I’m working on is taking all that and moving that activity to one place. It’s combined with an idea that I’ll also be more active in posting and doing things – but we’ll see how that part goes.
So what I’m doing with the existing wordpress sites that are being merged into the new places, is that at least for now I’m leaving them up as static sites. I’ll keep them going until the domains expire. So for example this blog will be here until October 2019. When geeksinaction.org expires I’ll let it go.
geekbook.org will go until December of 2025. pyrrhic.org will go until June 2020 (unless I can find something good to do with it – I love that domain name.)
So all posting about anything will take place at something connected to jrpeck.com For example my blog will be jr.peck.com/scribbles which I guess I should fix to work at scribble.jrpeck.com – that’s something to get to.
I’ll adjust as I go but that’s my plan moving forward. So if there is something here you found useful you may want to grab the info. now. This October it will no longer be at this address – and I may just drop it all. I’m not sure. If I keep it up somehow it will be at all new urls.
I’ve posted many times here thoughts I had that were influenced by or lifted straight from the blog of Neptunus Lex. My respect for the Captain is immense. He lived a life that many dream of but never have the skill and raw determination to see to fruition. And while it is the dream of many young boys to be a fighter pilot, those dreams don’t include the incredible cost payed to defend our nation, especially by those in the Naval aviation community. He gave up years of his life, in the air and on the seas so that U.S. citizens could enjoy the freedoms that they have.
On top of that service, he blogged. His writing revealed much of his character. When I was in the Navy I worked under many types of leaders. There are those that had to push very, very hard to get very little out of those they directed. And there were those who didn’t need to push at all, because they were men we would give our all – because of who they were. The Captain was that kind of leader, the kind who I’m sure could accomplish incredible amounts with just a few quiet words. A true leader.
I was thoroughly enjoying his account of his most recent flight, now as a civilian contractor, and thinking how thankful I was that he recorded it in words and video. What I was not prepared for was that today I would find out that it is over. I never met the man, and now I never will. But I owe him a debt of gratitude regardless.
The only thing scarier than a propeller, is a propeller at night. I was just reading about this poor gal in Texaas that walked into a prop. It brought back a lot of memories of working around turboprops in the dark. Man I hate those things.
I think this shot from Navy.mil does a good job of making it clear why. They are hard to see in the light, and pretty much invisible in the dark. The noise is loud enough that it’s not so easy to identify just where it is coming from. That adds up to a rather dangerous environment, and I’m guessing this young lady in Texas may not have been used to running around airplanes in the dark. I do wonder why the pilot didn’t keep her inside until the prop had come to a complete stop. I imagine he or she may be wondering the same thing right now.
I was at Baumax yesterday buying some things. One item I picked up was a plug to attach to a lamp I want to use here. The issue is I can’t figure out how I’m supposed to connect the wires to the plug. The posts that come out of the plug and go into an outlet are solid. There’s no immediately obvious way (to me) to connect the wires to those posts. Images below – click on them for larger.
It’s an old song, sung a lot of ways by a lot of people. I tend to prefer the Johnny Cash version the best, but that’s no surprise. One verse really stands out.
Well you may throw your rock and hide your hand
Workin’ in the dark against your fellow man
But as sure as God made black and white
What’s done in the dark will be brought to the light
It’s not a popular position today but I do believe that much like there are physical laws at work in our universe there are also moral or spiritual laws as well. I believe that whenever anyone seeks to find the truth about life, that when they do it will be in line with these laws. Of course I also think a lot of people could save quite a bit of time by reading the Bible and getting a jump start on discovering what these truths are. All that to say that this portion of the song is based on scripture and is, I believe, something that can be depended on as much as gravity or the fact that 2+2=4.
For all that is secret will eventually be brought into the open, and everything that is concealed will be brought to light and made known to all.
And then you see her on the port quarter, what little there is to see of her above the water from an acute angle: The number 3 barbette of the USS Arizona, the watery graveyard of 1100 men and a mute testament both to perfidy and unpreparedness. Sixty-odd years after she went down, little rainbow pools of oil still bubble to the surface from within trapped spaces and voids, footless passageways embracing the mouldering bones of sailors whose names are known but to God. The old salts say that these are her tears of rage and anguish, her tears of loss and bereavement. They say that she is weeping. They say that she is weeping still.
These melancholy thoughts are interrupted by the trilling sound of a bosun’s whistle on the 5MC, two short blasts – “Attention to port!” The flight deck snaps to attention. One short blast follows – “Hand salute!” A long moment passes in the heat, the sweat suddenly liberated, trickling down your back as your arm goes up and holds, holds. A silent and expectant moment as one great ship glides softly past another, a thousand crewman rendering honors to another thousand from a far different time, from a far different land. The moment stretches, breaks, and at last is over: Two short blasts – “Ready, two!” And finally, three blasts – “Carry on.”
According to immutable naval custom, the junior ship initiates the rendering of passing honors, while the senior ship returns it. But senior though she may be, there will never again be a salute returned from onboard Arizona. No bosun’s pipe echoes across the water. No one mans her rails. My brothers and I took one long look back at the memorial receding behind us, exchanged silent glances between ourselves, saying with our eyes the things we could never allow ourselves to say out loud. Pursed our lips and went below in quiet introspection. It wouldn’t last forever – we were after all, young and careless. But we wouldn’t forget that moment, not ever.
We would remember.
These aren’t my words. They were penned by Lex. But they perfectly capture manning the rail on the way into Pearl.