True Knowledge

I like to follow the evolution of the internet, if ever so slowly, into a thinking machine... enjoy

Three

From one extreme...

(Off the coast of Miami)

(Phoenix International Airport)

(Salt Lake City)

To the other...

I have been back for three weeks roughly. Thank you Tucker, for the beautiful transition picture. Where would I start I wondered? How would I begin my life anew. Little did I know my life in Utah wasn't just here, but here and waiting. So many little projects, little things to do that I had constructed to fill my time. So much junk that I am now throwing away... I want less and less of this space filling junk. I feel very often like the trip never happened, and that I now have fleeting visions of far off lands. As my memory sets in, what my senses once felt decays. Its as tho I ascended into a dream for a few months, and now I am awake and desperately seeking life construction.

I realize that all I have is the here and now, and I desire to do many things. To find some way of mobilizing little cache valley into constructive thought about all things Cache valley. Is it possible, I wonder, for this community to destroy? To destroy social barriers like they do liquor licenses? Maybe I shall have to find out...

This is it...

I have no moving last words, but I will try and make up for that by posting pictures once I am back. Tucker and I are all packed up ,and our room again has taken on the clean hollow ambience of a new apartment, or in our case, a friendly bleached cell. We will be spending tonight saying all of our goodbyes and trying to find some sort of impossible closure for the life changing experiances we all just shared. Its very hard... and strange, to think that I will never see all these people in the same place again, after we have all become such good friends. Even our little groups of 5 or more friends might never again get to travel together.... here comes the next big step... and once I get home, their will be no way to come close to explaining most anything that has happened to me.

Jake, if you out there, Ill see ya soon man.

Kevin Doyles Blog

This... Is Kevin Doyle (not high fidelilty).

One of the best aspects of my voyage has been the fact that it is not, "my voyage." When we have left the port and my travels are done... my experiance continues on as I hear the stories and experiances of around 800 faculty and students told with only slight relish. Here is the blog of my step father, Drama professor on the ship, somebody very dear to me, and a personal role model: http://kevintraveler.blogspot.com or just click on the title "Kevin Doyles Blog" at the top.

"The Blue Mosque" among other things.

These two pictures are from the back of the MV Explorer as we re-fuled at gibralter. That island is of course, the rock of gibralter. Where something liek 22 unique types of monkeys can be found, some to be found nowhere else on earth. "The more you know."

I am slowly descoving how much I love games... and how bad of a looser I am. This is my new favorite. "Weiqi" as its called in China, or more commonly "Go". I have been playing this habitually on the ship since Egypt, and will continue to do so for many years.

Laundry day on the ship. They charge 5$ per bag, so Tucker and I take it personally to get every pice of clothing we own... into one bag a piece. Anything is possible.

and these... are the white streets of Dubrovnik

Back to Istanbul...


As a part of the “Istanbul City Orientation” program on the first day in Istanbul, our group also toured the Sultan Ahmed Mosque or the Blue Mosque of Istanbul. I followed the now familiar actions of taking off my shoes and bagging them up and then padding my feet on the gigantic carpets inside the mosque. Although we had to stand behind a rail in the back I viewed many people laying out flat and going through various Muslim prayers, practicing “Salah”. Above them hung hundreds of small electric lights inside of glasses, the cords from which strung all the way to the dome supports. Artistic Islamic script encircled many of the doorways and arches, and even more lights formed circular metal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. I remember thinking that even in Asia I had never stepped into a place that felt more foreign to me than this one.
For a brief history, the Sultan Ahmed Mosque was completed in 1616 after being commissioned by Ahmed I. It is named the blue mosque because of the blue tile that adorns it, and the mosque itself was designed by Sedefhar Mehmet Aga a student of the famed Sinan architect. It was modeled after and inspired by Hagia Sophia and sits across from it. This was Ahmed I’s first mosque, built to praise god, and work on it would not stop completely until after his death and into the reign of the next Sultan.
The religion of Islam believes in one god and reads from the holy text called the Qur’an which god revealed to the profit Mohammad. Christianity and Judaism are believed to be offshoots of Islam and to have altered in meaning through time to become different in meaning from Islam.
The practice of Islam relies on five main pillars. The first of these five pillars is called the “Shahadah” and contains the “Tawhid” “which declares that there is no god but God, and that Muhammad is God's messenger”. The “Shahadah” could be seen as the mantra of Islam and exists in prayer form. It is the first thing which must be done to become a person of Muslim faith. The second pillar is called “Salah”. “Salah” is done five times a day and consists of ritual prayer which is supposed to reconnect your mind with god. My group had to wait outside of the Blue Mosque while the call to prayer, or adhan, was underway. The broadcasting of Qur’an versus all around Istanbul was testament to the strictness and wide spread acceptance of Islam in Turkey. The third pillar is the giving of alms and is called “Zakat”. “Zakat” is like unto the paying of tithing in Christianity. Forth is “Sawm” “or fasting during the month of Ramadan”. During this month eating is prohibited from day light to day break and is intended, like the “Salah”, to bring a person closer to god. I remember seeing tax drivers in India during Ramadan, pull over after the sun had gone down to eat a super they had tucked away in their trunk. The fifth, and most famous, pillar is the Hajj. This pillar is a pilgrimage. At some point in a Muslims life he or she desires to pilgrimage to Mecca and there perform ritual acts.
Sometimes a sixth pillar is added to the practice of Islam which is that of Jihad, meaning struggle. This sixth pillar gets allot of press, and as I have found out carries very little of the connotations given to it by westerners. Jihad can mean a struggle against “a visible enemy, the devil, and aspects of one's own self” or used alone can have military connotations. Most of the time Jihad is used as a metaphor meant to struggle against your own self improvement.
Notably missing among these pillars of faith is the mention of conversion. Even the sixth pillar of struggle does not mention conversion. While in Istanbul I asked a few people, namely the owner of a hookah bar I frequented, what it took to become one of Muslim faith. He told me that one must approach a person of Islamic faith and himself desire to become Muslim, and that it is a rare occurrence and somewhat difficult to do. The first thing somebody must do to become Muslim is complete the “Tawhid” and show dedication with the “Salah”. This response was new and refreshing to me, myself coming from the mass missionary exporting state of Utah
Islam is thought to be the original faith, that of Jesus as well. After the beginning of Islam with Mohamed the faith spread throughout Europe, Asia, and Africa. Most notable in Islamic empire is the Ottoman Empire which at one time dominated areas of the Mediterranean Sea and separated Europe from the Indian Ocean.
The Blue Mosque had a profound effect on me… Until this trip I knew almost nothing of Islam aside from the word Jihad and the notion of a call to prayer. I can blame growing up in Utah; I can underscore a gigantic absence of Islam from my entire high school experience. Standing inside Istanbul’s Blue Mosque and soaking in “a whole new world” around me I couldn’t help but wonder why I knew nothing about the world of Islam, Why I had never taken a private interest in finding out about it. I realized that much of the world was never discussed in my high school setting. The Blue Mosque inspired me, as the teacher I hope someday to be, to find some way to actually reform US education. It is wrong to let something as beautiful as the Blue Mosque or Hagia Sophia go unmentioned in a high school setting let alone the amazing civilizations and theologies which created them. No wonder the American public allowed Bush to attack Iraq with only mild street protest, I’m not sure a good number of Americans know anything at all about Islam, let alone its differences and similtarities from Christianity. The Blue Mosque reminded me, that as a citizen inside of the monster empire the United States has become, I need and should violently demand a worldly education. The Blue Mosque was a reminder of all the beauty in the world, and the importance of things bigger than myself.







Here are some more random pictures from around the world

Dubrovnik and Sevilla

These three pictures were taken from the walls of Dubrovnk. Dubrovnik is one the ast remaining historically walled cities in the world. Its white streets and entierly tourist based economy were not the most intriguing thigns I have seen thus far, but that view form the top of the walls made up for it and more.

Back in Europe again. I took these pictures while visiting the Cathedral of Sevilla, in of course Sevialla where I walked the very streets that bugs bunny walked in the 60's and 70's.

Hagia Sophia

The last place I visited on my Istanbul city orientation trip was Hagia Sophia. This cathedral is beautiful remnant of Istanbul's strong cultural history as well as symbol of the times for modern Turkish politics. The former basilica and mosque is now a museum, and fittingly so as Hagia Sophia displays Istanbul's rich history from 537 C.E. to present. It was Atatürk who decided the mosque should be a museum, despite the rules of Islam stating that no mosque may be converted from being a mosque. This decision of Ataturk's demonstrates one of his many contributions to Turkish politics, the separation of church and state. The mosque was officially declared a museum in 1935.
The first thing which caught my eye, once inside of Hagia Sophia, was a yellowed looking painting high above the entrance's gigantic two story doors. The painting displayed Mary and the Christ under a cross. The guide informed me that this painting was found underneath plaster on the ceiling when the mosque was turned into a museum. In 1453, with the arrival of the Ottoman empire in Constantinople, many of the church murals were plastered over in the conversion of Hagia Sophia into a mosque by the order of Mehmed II. It is against Muslim beliefs to have pictures of people painted on mosque walls or displayed within, and the Ottomans had no use for a Christian murals anyhow. Now all over the ceiling, uncovered paintings from the pre-Ottoman era can be found.
The second thing I noticed, once further inside, was Hagia Sophias famous gigantic dome. It was commissioned by emperor Justinian the first, and is an amazing architectural achievement for its time. Hagia Sophia is actually the third “temple” to occupy the land it sits upon, and this third rendition was designed by Isidore of Miletus and Anthemius of Tralles. When I was there a scaffolding was set up for restoration. The crisscrossing bars seemed to fade to the eye before the top could be seen as the reached to the top of the dome, they emphasized just how enormous the dome really is.

Many restorations have been carried out since the time of the Ottomans conversion of Hagia Sophia. One of the most noteworthy was ordered by the sultan Abdulmacid and crafted by the architects Gaspare and Giuseppe Fossati. The restoration included a complete redesigning of the mosques interior decorations, structural repair and fortification, and the addition of some outer buildings. On July thirteenth 1849 the mosque was again opened to the public.
Mustafa Kemal later named “Atatürk” meaning “father of the Turks” was the person responsible for Hagia Sophias conversion into a museum. His face is everywhere in Turkey and on many more than one occasion I witnessed fierce pride after the mention of his name. Ataturk was the first president of Turkey and he himself fought the revolution movement against the allied occupation of Turkey following WWI after which the Republic of Turkey was founded. He brought many “radical reforms” to the republic and Hagia Sophia's transformation to a museum (against Muslim law) is a powerful example of the weight carried by Ataturk. He is thought to be largely responsible for most of Turkey’s progress in the nineteen hundreds and is remembered fondly with gigantic pictures in almost every building. The noble looking figure is always looking off into the future, with a chiseled and thoughtful look; the man had strong eyebrows as well.
We were lucky enough to be in Istanbul on the day which Ataturks death is remembered, and I sat in a hookah bar as a televised countdown to midnight ensued. Our waiter noticed that we were watching the television and imitated a tear falling from his eye and looked thoughtful. After this, he went to the back of the room, with two minutes left in the countdown, and replaced the modern music with some traditional Turkish music. After we asked many questions about the music he had put on, he brought us a copy of the CD as a gift, he was very grateful for our interest in the country of Turkey and our observance of the importance of Ataturk to the Turks.
In Greek Hagia Sophia means “Holy Wisdom”. Over the years, the various cults of wisdom provided within the domes of Hagia Sophia have changed. Even today, with its conversion into a museum, the massage of wisdom emanating from Hagia Sophia is changing. After the historical shift to Christianity and then the Ottoman shift to Muslim, now Hagia Sophia broadcasts a message of tolerance and historical recognition to all those hundreds of thousands who walk through it every year. It represents an Istanbul aware of its conglomerate history and proud of this as well. Hagia Sophia has always been one of the most astounding architectural accomplishments, and now its ideological accomplishments will transcend both Christianity and Islam alike.

Cairo

It is 12:50 A.M. here in Cairo, I awoke yesterday at 4:00 A.M. I will leave an hour from now at 2:00 A.M. to catch a flight to Luxor. I look around me and I see a strange man talking into a hand held computer microphone, laughing maniacally at times, and typing furiously with two fingers at others. Every once and a while he gets up to help somebody fix a computer, and to bum cigarettes from the customers. I am in the second floor of a three story shopping mall, all of which is abandoned, dark, and decaying except for this internet cafe. Outside the door is a dusty window in a dark corner, the space behind which is stacked with old manicans and cobwebs, a site truly fitting so near after Halloween. Strange stains cover most of the floor, and in the moonlight cast above the stairwell can be seen the decorative spirals and invading cobwebs of an iron rail a flight above. On the ground floor, sitting half hidden beneath the shadows of broken escalators, a guard sleeps quietly, one hand resting on his automatic rifle.
No longer do I pretend to know who I am, or what it is that I care about. My self has spiraled outward and I hope never to come back. I have seen the pyramids for the first time as they were intended to be seen. As a ray of light spreading itself from a single point above, onto the desert below, as a path into the sky. I know a real life awaits me somewhere, but apart from spells of panic, I know that thing which I once called myself, no longer to exist. I know from which single point I have come, and in my wake I leave only what decisions I made after whatever moments possesed me. Ahead of me, growing always wider is my path into the ground.

There will always be, more India

In some ports my brother and I signed up for pre-planned trips. Our first trip in Chennai was a three day Art of Living course hosted by an artisan heritage village. Artisans come in rotation form all around India, to display their crafts in this village. The first person I met was a rock carver from Pakistan. He immediately told me how he would be down in this village for ten days with his friend, and they had come this far in hopes of making some sales. His table was packed full of little green carvings of Ganish in every shape and form. He sat me down and showed me the six little iron scrapers from his extremely modest tool kit. Each crafts person whom I talked with showed me the same basic tools, yet their crafts were all very different. The village hosted traditional palm leaf engravings, “green rock” carvings, glass blowing, Henna artwork, mat weaving, painting miniatures, and a traditional herb store.
Upon approaching each booth the usual high pressure sales situation I had grown accustomed to was replaced with a polite and interesting walk through on how each particular craft was created. One man specialized in palm leaf engravings. A series of palm leaves were strung together to make a sort of folding mat on which was engraved elaborate designs and circles with pictures in the middle depicting traditional stories. These engravings were made using the same tools I had seen earlier, only now for engraving. Each of theses circles folded over so that the mat could display either the traditional gods of India, a traditional story, or of course various pictures of the Kama Sutra. The mans best work, which also had the Kama Sutra option, was hung up to the side of the booth and he informed us that it had taken him nine months to finish. It was amazingly elaborate, each strip of palm leaf connected perfectly with the next, the craftsmanship was superb. It was strange to observe how each of these traditional works of art and depictions of sacred could so quickly, and yet secretly, be transformed into Kama Sutra pictures. My first reaction was that the Kama Sutra presence was a tourist hook, and nothing more. But after spending some more time in the village, and in Chennai, I noticed, by talking to various people, that in fact India does have a very sexually charged subculture beneath its conservative surface... just not when many other people are around.
Each persons craft was very specific, and the craftsman was very reluctant to do anything of which he was not precisely trained. There was a glass blower who specialized in making little boats with figures on them, swizzle sticks, and pendants with an air bubble. I ask if he knew how to make beads. He looked at me very uncomfortably and said he was not trained as a beads craftsman, but he could show me how to make an air bubble glass pendant. At this time a girl walked up and asked if he could make a dolphin. He quickly fired up his torch and in about three minutes had a dolphin swizzle stick ready to go. He looked up at the mystified girl, handed her the dolphin, and without missing a beat asked “how many?”
We were able to speak with a woman from India who travels the world doing various charities; she was able to give us some insight into the market. She told us how there were many orphanages, and that when a child was old enough to leave; they had three options open to them. First was getting married and moving out with their spouse, second being college if the child had found the means, and third being a workshop which would teach them a specific craft, such as stone cutting or engraving. This artisan / crafts person group is composed largely of males, yet some females engrave and weave mats. Every craft at this village was an example of a craft that would be taught in this situation; although it was unclear weather these particular craftsmen originated this way. The main source of income for these small crafts people were of course tourism, although some of the more conventional crafts, such as the weave mats, were used by the locals. She also brought up the good point that, no Indian house would be complete without many little stone statues of Ganish or Shiva.
On the way to this village our group had stopped at a couple stone temples. Each time we got off the bus we were swarmed with craftsmen of this exact type, selling anything and everything with the Kama Sutra engraved on it somewhere. Many stone pendants, little bamboo drums, and small reproduced paintings were insisted upon us. They would ask to trade any article of clothing our bodies, from shoes to our watches. This reoccurring situation, later combined with more of an understanding of the purpose and market (tourism) of this artisan class, is a bittersweet image. On the one hand these people were trying very hard to produce something that I really wanted, and in exchange wanted only my dollar store watch. On the other hand, these craftsmen were part of a system which was trying its hardest to lift more Indians from poverty. Needless to say we all bought endless little trinkets.
The last couple countries, Thailand, Vietnam, and China all had complicated tourist infrastructures set up to take advantage of the gigantic market, such as clubs, vacation packages, sight seeing packages, etc... India on the other hand had the basic institutions, but beyond transportation and a translator, these artisans were the only tourist money extracting element I found. Since declaring independence, India simply has not had the time, or lack of more pressing matters, to care about developing a tourist infrastructure, outside of the Taj and a few other exceptions. For Vietnam, Thailand, and China the tourist capital input has become a very important part of their economy. The result of India's lack of tourist infrastructure is that tourist cash flow goes directly to the impoverished artisans, and sadly enough to anyone in a position to exploit those craftsmen. Many, many people are in such a position. The carpet making store which our Auto-Rickshaw driver insisted we go in was of the same nature as these basic arts and crafts, only of higher quality. He sat us down and explained to us the detail with which each carpet was made, and that each had a very specific and unique cultural reliance. Needless to say, we bought on of those as well, and on the way back, our driver stopped to photocopy our receipt, because he had taken us specifically to that store, knowing he would get his own share.

Some More Pictures

This stretch from India to Egypt is one of our longer times at sea. Its also one of the first times Ive had to do any sort of reflection whatsoever about he whirlwind of now things ive seen in the past months. I still am lacking words... so perhaps some pictures will surfice.

Getting ready for India (the blue pill is for malaria)
India
India
The View from my cabin
Spreading the lock love.

Ever Since Hawaii

Chennai India

Withing fifty feet of the ship, my shoes are black. Men in brown wool suits with orange and black automatic rifles hanging across their backs stair me down until I smile for lack of anything better to do, and then they grin back through tired eyes and inspect my landing card. From here I have been strictly instructed to walk between the warehouses, left to the gate, and then RIGHT! Not left... earlier in the week their had been a demonstration to the right, and the guards at that gate insisted that everybody pay a re-entry fee, which was by no means “official”. Outside the coal dust covered gates of port seven, a line of yellow “auto rickshaws” await. The drivers approach me, each dripping his own unique brand of insanity, “Sir, I take you down town, come, come with me now sir” “Brotha, come with me, I'll show you to a nice pipe” “Jonny, come with Jonny, I know where you want to go, no problem”. I kept expecting one to insist on taking me downtown to see a “ping pong show” or meet with “a happy lady”, but I had to remember that I wasn't in Bangkok anymore.
This is an average day for the rickshaw drivers. In fact, the American diplomat whom spoke to us while our ship was being cleared by customs, told us how as early as seven that morning the drivers were waiting for students to begin filing off the ship. When driving by them she had yelled out the window “Don't worry! They are coming, I promise!” to which she received a resounding cheer. Earlier that week a navy cruiser had been in port, and the Rickshaw drivers were able to make a nice profit, I later found out, that the average day for a rickshaw driver includes zooming in and out of buses and motorcycles on roads where the painted lanes could hardly be thought of as even suggestions. I lost count of all the motorcycles we cut off after three blocks, I did however keep track of all the buses that we were almost underneath until five blocks from the port, after that I was then occupied for the rest of the trip with talking the driver out of making a side stop at his friends shops. In Vietnam and Thailand, that last thing we wanted to do was be taken down a side alley for often the worst of things await tourists there, and the same in India could also be true.
Our driver had perhaps three teeth, a maniacal laugh, and the most awesome bed head I have ever seen. After he was kind enough to wait while we ate lunch, we accepted his request to take us to his friends shop on the way back to the ship. He was very grateful and informed us that if we were to buy anything, the shop would give him a percentage, and his four children needed some clothes. He didn't mention until we were stuck in a time-share style high pressure sales situation, that the store only sold 400$ antique swords and very intricate hand made rugs. But we knew just the people for a gift of these sorts, and all things worked out quite nicely.
While flying among green buses with people hanging two feet out of every opening, and darting in between 1950's style embassy cars (complete with hood flags), the truth of something an Indian woman had said to me two nights before proved evident “Whatever is true about india, the opposite is also true”. And indeed it was, I saw families tucking babies into burlap bags behind the dumpsters of five star restaurants with very trim and healthy parking attendants busily parking black Escalades. It was fairly common for us to be followed by three people at once. One asking for money with a solitary hand stretched out and a horrible look in their eyes, another trying to sell me sandalwood beads or trade a little stone statue for my watch, and yet another pawing at my hair with an amazed look on her face.

Life with the Semester at Sea program is absolutely insane. It contains all of the usual college life stresses interspaced with week long forays into unknown lands of unique beauty and profoundness... coming back to college life, and the urgency of college work, compacted onto a ship after these is adventures is to say the least deviding. When the rare chance comes along, and I have time to consider my existance... I am bombareded an overwhelming array of amazements and astonishing truths combined with hundreds of new faces and details about the world... I truly will, never be the same.

Blow is a little clip of me and tucker up in the mountains of Thailands ablsolutly stunning Patong beach on Phuket island.

Honolulu Hawaii

I Applogize for not posting in so long. This is almost directly related to the awsome quality of three of my five courses. From here on out the posts should me more consistant. I leave tommorow for five days in Beijing, the Japan post will be comming soon. Here is what happened in Hawaii.
The whole day started at Aloha tower, where my poor friend Tyler waited for two hours while the MV explorer was cleared by customs and then for our respective “seas” (or cabin sections) to file off. But the wait was long worth it.. We didn't even hike diamond head trail as was the plan, but concluded that finding a place to eat would be the best. He took me to a Mexican restaurant that had won a hallway and two walls space worth of awards and had one of the best home made salsas that I have ever encountered. I ordered the “del mar” and enchilada stuffed with fresh crab and shrimp. After the expected comparison between Hawaii and Utah, and talking about people we had in common, we discovered that we both really dig Ray Kurzweil and proceeded to kick it off talking about all the scary things that some people profess the future to hold. Tyler also told me about the rallies held every other month and how cries for Hawaiian sovereignty will never fade away. He offered up his house for a week if I was ever coming back into Hawaii, and he said that he lives on the coast and has a magnificent view of the ocean from the third floor of his beach side apartment.
Tyler is one of those people I will eternally be jealous of... or more constructively, look at as a peer. The man is happily and contently married and living in Hawaii with his wife who works for Delta, they both fly anywhere for free. He is working on his computer science bachelors and simply lives the good life in Hawaii. He is a extremely smart individual whom languages come to easily, capable both of constructive introspection and courage, and has allot of good coming his way. I wish him only the best. I did make the mistake of telling him about a game called Bioshock tho.. I hope, Tyler, that your are not consumed by its otherworldly goodness for to many months.
After Tyler took me down to the beach and we took a couple pictures, he dropped me back off at Aloha tower where I immediately caught a van... to the other end of the island... signed my life away nine times... initialed 20 more clauses including one encompassing sexual harassment scenarios... waited for an hour in extreme anticipation... and then then jumped out of an airplane with a dude from Switzerland strapped onto my back... I have been at peace before, and I have felt many times the perfect happiness and calm that finding yourself in a far off land produces, and I have felt the fear and adrenaline cocktail of the largest free fall drop ride in the world, and I have even braved eating 1/3 cup of fresh wasabi all at once, but never have I had such an experience such that the entire world went silent, and nothing could be found inside myself but something vaguely reminiscent of chimes blowing in the wind. I felt as though I had transcended beyond myself. We jumped over the ocean, and down through the light blue water I could see the reef stretch all around the end of the island, and above the beach the mountains reaching up towards the sky, covered in foliage, and misty in the distance. I now find myself resisting the urge to jump of the ship as it slices through the Pacific, simply because I long to be flying through the air, just one more time.

Honolulu Bound

Before the ship departed San Diego two parties were thrown (both in honor so people I do not know), so the highlight of this party for me was the elaborately carved food stuffs.

Not only where their watermelons carved in this fashon, but also gigantic chocolate castles, which the crew later told me were indeed made from chocolate, but were coated with shoe polish, for that extra shine. One of the two castles was a roughly three foot tall model of the Taj Mahal. It was truly amazing. The next night (Sunday night) we departed from San Diego. Below is my last sight of San diego.

As we docked at Ensenada Mexico we were greeted by an old sunken riverboat full of Sea Lions. That boat is pictured here as well as a view of Ensenada from the top deck. (The Sea Lions can be found on the front right bow of the ship)

It was here in Ensenada Mexico that all six hundred and thirty three students got on board. They immediately proceeded to form the longest registration line I have lived to see. The first two days onboard were full of safety and honor code meetings, in both many of the tired six hundred and thirty three heads could be seen nodding off. These meetings were intermingled with rampant sea sickness, needless to say, everybody slept quite well Monday night.

Classes started today and the faculty (while occasionally blathering and boisterous), they appear to have a great deal to offer us students. Many of them have been around the world themselves many times, and are extremely well equipped to guide our studies.

The Soft Glow, of San Diego

Of course a city as bustling and gigantic as San Diego has sparked my enthusiasm for the life changing experience to come, but looking into something as profound as this view from my hotel room (which I have been staring at for two hours now)...

Its impossible not to let my mind wander. Tonight whilst in the middle of a gigantic tomato, basil, shrimp calzone (oh yes... it was amazing) the conversation took a very inevitable turn, whenever world travel is involved, towards war. Not the wanna be "Desert Strom" of our "beloved" and raging tyrant bush, but the real Vietnam war itself. When we reach Vietnam I will be traveling up the Mekong delta, streight out of Apocalypse Now itself, or at least that is where my generation knows if from. As my step father reminded me, the moral of that story (Apocalypse Now) was that you cannot force one societies morals, norms, or pedagogy onto the shoulders of another world. It was not an hour later that I saw Bush j.r. on television explaining how "we can not pull out troops out of Iraq now, we must learn from our pull out of Vietnam where millions lost their lives." What lessons where learned in Vietnam by America? Well apparently some feel differently than others... (and now to end my soapbox statement with class) RE-ENGINEER ALL US FORCES INTO WORLD HUMANITARIAN AID!

With war being the topic of conversation, the violence to come struck me hard. I will see the world as it exists and leave my wonder bread citizenry far behind me. I hope I am ready. Reality is defined by the individual, otherwise it would cease to be reality.

Their she is, the MV Explorer

I will be posting my photos on Picasa as well, just search Jeff Fullmer or predatormilk@gmail.com

Mind Reeling

Spinning complacently in the darkness Covered and blinded by a blanket of little lives False security has lulled the madness of this world into a slumber Wake Up! An eye is upon you Staring straight down and keenly through Seeing all that you are and everything that you can never be Yes an eye is upon you an eye ready to blink. SO face forward with arms wide open and mind reeling Your future has arrived...Are you ready to go?

"Powerman 5000"


Alright so the powerman 5000 quote is hokey as hell I know, but hey It really gets the job done, and just to keep things honest... yes it really does touch me... somewhere deep down inside. What eye is looking down upon you? I dunno, but the eye about to blink on my end looks like this inside.




I'm leaving this day to take part in a program called semester at sea, So from now on this blog will reflect my travels and contain updated pictures and links to many many more pictures from all around the world from places such as:

• Ensenada, Mexico
• Honolulu, Hawaii
• Yokohama, Japan
• Kobe, Japan
• Qingdao, China
• Hong Kong
• Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
• Bangkok, Thailand
• Chennai, India
• Port Suez (Adabiya)
• Alexandria, Egypt
• Istanbul, Turkey
• Dubrovnik, Croatia
• Cadiz, Spain
• Miami, Florida

And places not such as

• Cache Valley Utah

Except for perhaps some before pictures.

The posts should be pretty regular from here on out, depending on my Internet access. Catch ya on the flip side.

A Worthy Response

A while ago I posted an article about looking at the worlds of physics and the cosmos through a biological perspective... in response to which an awesome response was written, I had been waiting and thinking about his post, trying to decide what to respond to it... and frankly all that comes to mind is.. bravo, its nice to hear the words of an honest real world scientist.

Todays spotlight: Anonymous comment number one.

In response to the article by Aaron Rowe...

"The Rad Scientist said...

Re:"At several points in his article, he argues that cosmologists are doing work that has been hijacked by creationists."
-Religion was the first cosmologist. The stars were believed to be gods, heavens, etc. long before we were able to look with a telescope, or track the motions. We started with a theory based on what we could observe, and the modified it as new observation were able to be made. The chariot of fire is a perfect example. Believed to be pulled across the sky by a god, now believed to be a burning ball of gas. We observed that it looked like it was on fire, but our explanation of the fire was incorrect. Cosmologic beliefs evolved as technology evolved. Religion has clung to it's belief and changed it to fit in with new observation the same as science has.




Re: "We've got the scientific structure and framework incorrect. We need a theory that is internally consistent. We can't do this without creating a biological understanding of space and time. This will require restructuring science so that biology is above physics."
-Biology=study of life
What defines life? While there are still problems with scientifically defining life, we of come to several criteria that define life. Time and space do not meet any of the criteria for being alive. So how can we biologically define them? Both are perceptions, perceived by humans and some animals. If there is no one to perceive time, does it exist? How can we apply biological theory to a perception?
I don't think that physics is above biology now. Both are schools of thought based on observation of natural events. Both seek to explain the natural phenomena that occurs (based on our perception of it). Physics applies to biology, and vice versa.


Re:"WN: In your article, you make the assertion that time and space do not exist. What do you mean by that?

Lanza: There is something very unusual about them. We can't put them in a marmalade jar and take them back to the lab for analysis. Space and time are forms of animal sense perception. Space and time are not objects or things -- they are forms of animal sense perception."
-My point exactly. If they don't exist, why would we apply the laws of observation based on things that do exist? Every law that we accept in biology came from the observations of existing things. We wouldn't apply the data from sand to make observations about rocks. They are different. The structure of the world and the structure of thought are different, too. You simply cannot expect to use laws based on observable world phenomena for anything created by thought.



Re:"Scientists continue to dismiss the observer as an inconvenience to their theories. Real experiments show that the properties of matter itself are observer-determined. A particle can go through one hole if you look at it, but if you don't look at it, it can actually go through more than one hole at the same time. Science has no explanation for how the world can be like that."
-The term "Science" is far to broad for such a statement. Hundred of experiments are done and results published in reputable journals regarding just such research. "Science" has not found a way to put them into laws, yet. There are thousands of theories out there, but we are still trying to figure out how to prove and disprove them. All of out scientific laws were at the beginning experimental stage at some point.
We should not try to fit things into labels before we understand them. We should try to understand them, so that we may design our models to fit what is truly happening. We should not create a system, and then try to fit the world into it."

One step closer to a hoverboard of my own.

Physicists have 'solved' mystery of levitation

By Roger Highfield, Science Editor

Last Updated: 1:41am BST 08/08/2007

Levitation has been elevated from being pure science fiction to science fact, according to a study reported today by physicists.

	In theory the discovery could be used to levitate a person

In earlier work the same team of theoretical physicists showed that invisibility cloaks are feasible.

Now, in another report that sounds like it comes out of the pages of a Harry Potter book, the University of St Andrews team has created an 'incredible levitation effects’ by engineering the force of nature which normally causes objects to stick together.

Professor Ulf Leonhardt and Dr Thomas Philbin, from the University of St Andrews in Scotland, have worked out a way of reversing this pheneomenon, known as the Casimir force, so that it repels instead of attracts.

Their discovery could ultimately lead to frictionless micro-machines with moving parts that levitate But they say that, in principle at least, the same effect could be used to levitate bigger objects too, even a person.

The Casimir force is a consequence of quantum mechanics, the theory that describes the world of atoms and subatomic particles that is not only the most successful theory of physics but also the most baffling.

The force is due to neither electrical charge or gravity, for example, but the fluctuations in all-pervasive energy fields in the intervening empty space between the objects and is one reason atoms stick together, also explaining a “dry glue” effect that enables a gecko to walk across a ceiling.

Now, using a special lens of a kind that has already been built, Prof Ulf Leonhardt and Dr Thomas Philbin report in the New Journal of Physics they can engineer the Casimir force to repel, rather than attact.

Because the Casimir force causes problems for nanotechnologists, who are trying to build electrical circuits and tiny mechanical devices on silicon chips, among other things, the team believes the feat could initially be used to stop tiny objects from sticking to each other.

Prof Leonhardt explained, “The Casimir force is the ultimate cause of friction in the nano-world, in particular in some microelectromechanical systems.

Such systems already play an important role - for example tiny mechanical devices which triggers a car airbag to inflate or those which power tiny 'lab on chip’ devices used for drugs testing or chemical analysis.

Micro or nano machines could run smoother and with less or no friction at all if one can manipulate the force.” Though it is possible to levitate objects as big as humans, scientists are a long way off developing the technology for such feats, said Dr Philbin.

The practicalities of designing the lens to do this are daunting but not impossible and levitation “could happen over quite a distance”.

Prof Leonhardt leads one of four teams - three of them in Britain - to have put forward a theory in a peer-reviewed journal to achieve invisibility by making light waves flow around an object - just as a river flows undisturbed around a smooth rock.

Aaron Rowe

Will Biology Solve the Universe?

Aaron Rowe 03.08.07 | 10:00 AM

For years, scientists have tried to develop a universal theory of everything. Steven Hawking predicts that such a theory will be discovered in the next 20 years. A new theory asserts that biology, not physics, will be the key to unlocking the deepest mysteries of the universe, such as quantum mechanics.

"The answer to the universe is biology -- it's as simple as that," says Dr. Robert Lanza, vice president of research and scientific development at Advanced Cell Technology. He details his theory in The American Scholar's spring issue, published on Thursday. Lanza says scientists will establish a unified theory only if they radically rethink their understanding of space and time using a "biocentric" approach. His article is essentially a biological and philosophical response to Hawking's A Brief History of Time, in which he questions how we interpret the big bang, the existence of space and time, as well as many other theories -- assertions that might ruffle the feathers of some physical scientists.

But Lanza is used to controversy. The 2005 Wired Rave Award winner has seen plenty in response to his stem cell and cloning work at Advanced Cell. And he's ready for the scientific row his latest work is likely to engender.

"The urgent and primary questions of the universe have been undertaken by those physicists who are trying to explain the origins of everything with grand unified theories," says Lanza in his article. "But as exciting and glamorous as these theories are, they are an evasion, if not a reversal, of the central mystery of knowledge: that the laws of the world were somehow created to produce the observer."

At several points in his article, he argues that cosmologists are doing work that has been hijacked by creationists.

"In cosmology, scientists have discovered that the universe has a long list of traits that make it appear as if everything it contains -- from atoms to stars -- was tailor-made for us," he writes. "Indeed, the lack of a scientific explanation has allowed these facts to be hijacked as a defense of intelligent design."

Lanza argues that time is not the linear phenomena that we are comfortable with. Rather, our perception of time is a tool we use to understand the world around us. While it works well for the average person, it hampers our understanding of advanced physics. In this Wired News Q&A, Lanza explains more about the theory he calls his life's work .

Wired News: You call your theory of the universe a biocentric theory. What, exactly, does that mean?

Lanza: This new theory presents a shift in world view with the perspective that life creates the universe instead of the other way around.

WN: I imagine that a lot of physicists will be rather upset by your article. How do you expect them to react?

Lanza: People are not going to be very happy with what this all means. This theory is going to invalidate their (some scientists) entire life's work. I will definitely get crucified.

We've got the scientific structure and framework incorrect. We need a theory that is internally consistent. We can't do this without creating a biological understanding of space and time. This will require restructuring science so that biology is above physics.

WN: Does that mean you think that big physics and astronomy projects should not be funded?

Lanza: Of course they should be funded. I don't think that everything should be changed. What I am saying is that there is a missing piece to the puzzle of how the universe works. The answer is biology. It is as simple as that. The biological picture of space and time must be integrated into our understanding of physics.

WN: Why do you think that there is such a deep misunderstanding of what time and space really are?

Lanza: Our minds are structured to think that way. Even Einstein avoided the question of what space and time are. He simply defined them as what we measure with clocks and measuring-rods. However, the emphasis should be on the "we," not the measuring.

WN: Do you expect that some people will read your article and think you mean that they can sit on a mountaintop and meditate to change the world around them with mind powers?

Lanza: We can't decide that we want to jump off the roof and not get hurt. However much we want, we can't violate the rules of spatiotemporal logic.

WN: In your article, you make the assertion that time and space do not exist. What do you mean by that?

Lanza: There is something very unusual about them. We can't put them in a marmalade jar and take them back to the lab for analysis. Space and time are forms of animal sense perception. Space and time are not objects or things -- they are forms of animal sense perception.

Thousands of articles and books have danced around the desire to toss off the current mechanical world view that has dominated Western culture for hundreds of years. While some imply that time and space may not in fact exist, this article diagrams, for the first time, such a universe -- a universe in which time and space do not exist as physical realities independent of humans and animals.

WN: You seem to disagree with how the world was created.

Lanza: There are serious problems with the current world view. We pride ourselves in our current beliefs and then we (scientists) say, and by the way, we have no idea why the big bang happened.

WN: Can you explain why we should doubt the things that are accepted as the truth in science classes everywhere?

Lanza: For the first time outside of complex mathematics, this theory explains the provocative new experiment that was just published in Science last month. This landmark experiment showed that a choice you make now can actually influence an event that has already occurred in the past.

Scientists continue to dismiss the observer as an inconvenience to their theories. Real experiments show that the properties of matter itself are observer-determined. A particle can go through one hole if you look at it, but if you don't look at it, it can actually go through more than one hole at the same time. Science has no explanation for how the world can be like that.

Self Immolation

Forget not, your presence.

Thích Quảng Ðức



" Burning Monk - The Self-Immolation

On June 11, 1963, Thich Quang Duc, a Buddhist monk from the Linh-Mu Pagoda in Hue, Vietnam, burned himself to death at a busy intersection in downtown Saigon, Vietnam.. Eye witness accounts state that Thich Quang Duc and at least two fellow monks arrived at the intersection by car, Thich Quang Duc got out of the car, assumed the traditional lotus position and the accompanying monks helped him pour gasoline over himself. He ignited the gasoline by lighting a match and burned to death in a matter of minutes. David Halberstam, a reporter for the New York Times covering the war in Vietnam, gave the following account: I was to see that sight again, but once was enough. Flames were coming from a human being; his body was slowly withering and shriveling up, his head blackening and charring. In the air was the smell of burning human flesh; human beings burn surprisingly quickly. Behind me I could hear the sobbing of the Vietnamese who were now gathering. I was too shocked to cry, too confused to take notes or ask questions, too bewildered to even think…. As he burned he never moved a muscle, never uttered a sound, his outward composure in sharp contrast to the wailing people around him.

Thich Quang Duc had prepared himself for his self-immolation through several weeks of meditation and had explained his motivation in letters to members of his Buddhist community as well as to the government of South Vietnam in the weeks prior to his self-immolation. In these letters he described his desire to bring attention to the repressive policies of the Catholic Diem regime that controlled the South Vietnamese government at the time. Prior to the self-immolation, the South Vietnamese Buddhists had made the following requests to the Diem regime, asking it to: Lift its ban on flying the traditional Buddhist flag; Grant Buddhism the same rights as Catholicism; Stop detaining Buddhists; Give Buddhist monks and nuns the right to practice and spread their religion; and Pay fair compensations to the victim's families and punish those responsible for their deaths.

When these requests were not addressed by the Deim regime, Thich Quang Duc carried out his self-immolation. Following his death, Thich Quang Duc was cremated and legend has it that his heart would not burn. As a result, his heart is considered Holy and is in the custody of the Reserve Bank of Vietnam. "

More Ancient Advice

"If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you."

Courtesy of Jacob Bryner.

Chocolate Avocado Cake

Chocolate Avocado Cake
By: J.D. Welles

Jacob Johnson discovered the story one Monday on his morning commute. His Q train stopped between 34th Street and 42nd Street from a sick passenger at Columbus Circle, he glanced away from his neighbor's New York Post, shifting his feet. He was one stop away - only one stop away - when he noticed the spray painted scrawl on the tunnel wall.

"Once upon a time, there was a chef. The chef had no special culinary talents - his soufflés often fell, his loaves didn't always rise. But he loved his kitchen and he spent most of his time there thinking of something that would make him special. He searched and searched for some kind of nouveau cuisine combination that would make him stand out among his peers.

On a typical Monday, still tired from the weekend rush, but unwilling to let even his day off pass without a trip to the kitchen, the chef began to throw things together in a bowl. He put flour there and baker's chocolate and whole fresh eggs. Then his hand fell on an avocado. Black as 98% cocoa on the outside, green as envy on the inside.

The chef paused, then skinned it and tossed the pulpy mass into the batter. He mixed. He baked. He removed the concoction from the oven.

The chef gave a slice to his sous chef, then to his busboys and his waiters. They loved it.

He had created chocolate avocado cake. He became famous. People traveled the world over for just a slice of his dessert. His restaurant, once failing, prospered and he became a household name. The Food Channel gave him his own cooking program.

The chef was happy. Yes, really happy. Until he died."

Jacob Johnson almost missed the ending as the train lurched forward. But he caught it. Really happy, huh?

How nice, Jacob Johnson thought, for the fabled chef.

Jacob Johnson went about his work-a-day life, punching in, punching out, taking the train in, taking the train out. Brooklyn to Manhattan, then Manhattan to Brooklyn and God bless the MTA.

On a Friday, less than week from the Thanksgiving break, the fanatic restaurant review of a hot new patisserie caught Jacob Johnson's eye as did the gray-green, black-black of the confection on the page. Chocolate Avocado Torte.

Avocado and chocolate? Jacob Johnson thought and then he remembered.

Huh. Must have seen that story too.

Thanksgiving came and went with Jacob Johnson traveling up to his wife's family's home in Connecticut for a traditional weekend of food and fun. But Christmas was coming. His boss informed him that he'd be staying a little longer every night until the holiday and oh, he was promoting that kid Robertson, but don't worry, Jacob Johnson was sure to be the next up the corporate ladder.

Then a blast of mid-December snow halted his evening ride.

Flooding in the tunnels. Rerouting every train over the bridge. Great, Jacob Johnson thought, anxious for home after his third twelve hour day in a row.

The faces around him stared blankly forward, a palette of browns and pinks striving equally to ignore each other, the delay. And the writing on the wall.

"Once upon a time, there was a nurse. The nurse was born in the West Indies, but she believed in an American Dream. She worked as an intensive care nurse and every day soaked up the shit and blood of the dozens that didn't make it.

Every time she stepped onto the floor, the nurse felt like an angel of death descending daily on her tawdry, trumped up wings of mercy.

Her head nurse ignorantly called her Rastaslut behind her back because she wouldn't sleep with the boss' brother and mocked her Indies accent to her face.

That changed.

The nurse saved a life.

Not just any life, but a wealthy man's life. And this wealthy man proved very, very grateful, indeed. He rewarded her with money and a new place to live and a clerk who gave her three children and her American Dream.

The nurse was happy. Yes, really happy. Until she died."

How nice, Jacob Johnson thought, for the fabled nurse.

Christmas passed. Every morning after, Jacob Johnson strapped on his favorite present, a Rolex from his wife. New Year's passed. Jacob Johnson suffered his first and only hangover of the year.

Winter dragged on, as it must, in a series of schizophrenic fits between unseasonably warm and unseasonably frigid. The tabloids and the Post put a young Trinidadian nurse on their front pages for defying her doctor and changing a patient's prescription. Her disobedience earned her $100,000 from a Rockefeller, a new apartment on the Upper East Side and a wedding date with a grateful aide.

Then there was a policeman; there was an art student and there was a rock guitarist. The policeman died breaking up a child porn ring that saved three eight year olds' lives. The art student discovered a lost Da Vinci, painted over by a paranoid 19th Century eccentric, who thought to hide it during the War of 1812. The rock guitarist was forced to take a day job and found his true talent, managing other night-time musicians at a data processing firm.

How nice, Jacob Johnson thought, for the cop, for the student, for the rock guitarist.

He never expected the walls to speak to him. Until they did.

"Once upon a time there was a businessman. He worked very hard for his wife, a semi-beauty from Connecticut, and for himself and for what? For what, he thought. No one will ever know me or ever care about what I did or who I was. I'm a nobody in a city fed by faceless nobodies hoping to be somebodies, but content to be anybodies.

The businessman never knew this upset him. He always thought he was happy. He believed he was happy.

But he was not.

He was passed up twice for a promotion in favor of an inferior worker. His wife grew bored with his erratic behavior and contemplated an affair with his best friend, a stockbroker. She thought about divorce. Even his Rolex, guaranteed for life, stopped running.

Then his hands fell on the shoulders of a tourist boy in a University of Georgia sweatshirt. One push, he thought, and I'll be the sanest subway shover in history. I'll birth an urban legend. The MTA will have to issue warnings and I'll save hundreds of lives.

Behind the yellow line, bitch! Booyah!

He pushed."

Jacob Johnson tore his eyes away from the tunnel, struggling for breath. The businesswoman standing next to him looked at him as if he were a pervert, but a beefy, paint-splattered construction worker put a gentle hand against his back.

"Hey, you wanna seat, guy? You don't look good."

"Thank you."

Jacob Johnson sank onto the molded plastic. He knew the next line. He repeated it to himself. "The businessman was happy. Yes, really happy. Until he died."

Jacob Johnson covered his face and cried.

Jacob Johnson didn't read anything else off the walls - wouldn't even look at them - but every day expected to see that boy in his sweatshirt standing at the edge in the Times Square station. Jackson, an arrogant young hotshot, took his vice presidency. He stopped eating much and he never slept with his wife. She vacillated between a divorce and an affair with his best friend, a stockbroker, and Jacob Johnson didn't think about that at all.

Spring soon sucked out the soul of winter and the wool coats and leather boots faded into the sweatshirts and sneakers. It was April 3 and Jacob Johnson was in the 42nd Street station waiting for his train.

He saw the family first. He knew them without seeing the boy, although soon enough the kid revealed himself, a rampant bulldog charging across his chest.

"Oh, God," Jacob Johnson said out loud and took an involuntary step forward.

He was a businessman, right? He had a wife from Connecticut, and a miserable existence, right? His boss promoted an inferior - twice! - his wife was distant and his best friend was a stock broker and - he glanced down at his watch - yes, his Rolex had stopped.

And he wasn't happy, was he?

So, that was that then.

Jacob Johnson sighed and slipped around the gargantuan Georgian mother to lay his hands on the son.

He didn't get the chance.

A handsome young man in a brown serge suit pushed past him and shoved a shoulder into the boy. The child squealed, his arms waving in the empty air before he pitched face first onto the tracks. His sister had only the time to scream before an N train pulled in and over the boy. Right on time.

"Behind the yellow line, bitch! Booyah!"

Laughter echoed through the station, suddenly frozen and quiet.

Jacob Johnson knew the businessman was happy. Yes, really happy.

And would be - until he died.

Ancients

One of the very first Confucian philosophers wrote, in a book called "Great Learning":

"The ancients who wished to make their luminous virtue shine throughout
all-under-Heaven first brought order to their own states. Those who wished
to bring order to their own states first regulated their families. Those who
wished to regulate their families first cultivated their persons. Those who
wished to cultivate their persons first rectified their hearts. Those who
wished to rectify their hearts first made their thoughts sincere. Those who
wished to make their thoughts sincere first extended to the utmost their
knowledge."

(Quoted from The Chinese Experience, by Raymond Dawson, p. 75)

Gives me something to think about when trying to make sense of my life.