Trick or Treat!
Category: Riding the Waves
It was ghoulish! It was macabre!...
Posted by Karmen at 9:07 PM • 0 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
A tangenital mix of blogliness, studying the effects of time, change, and chaos
A student in Colorado, looking for some sort of synthesis--the big picture, encompassing all the strangeness in the universe--but willing to settle for the philosophic or poetic lens.
Most of my favorite blogs can be found here somewhere on ScienceBlogs. Here are a few of the other gems out there:
October 31, 2006
Category: Riding the Waves
It was ghoulish! It was macabre!...
Posted by Karmen at 9:07 PM • 0 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
Category: Riding the Waves
Ok, so, I may have made my porch a little too spooky this Halloween:...
Posted by Karmen at 8:52 PM • 0 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
Category: Ethics
I've kept this research paper in the archives for too long. Converging topics as diverse as bioethics and Gothic literature, it was one of the most enjoyable papers I've ever had to write. What better day could there be to...
Posted by Karmen at 12:05 PM • 1 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
October 30, 2006
Category: Fractals
In order to make up for my recent shortage of Friday Fractals, I've assembled a few at once, with a Halloween-ish theme. I browsed over the Mandelbrot set, seeking the spookiest angles. What seems freakiest is the unending depths...
Posted by Karmen at 12:21 PM • 4 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
October 23, 2006
Category: Lens of Fiction
The air was thick with the aroma of bacon fat. This was a comforting, home-like scent, yet the feeling was anything but comforting. In the midst of this tense, smoky atmosphere, an old crone hunched over the stove, struggling with a jar of herbs and cursing under her breath. Her trembling fingers painfully twisted the lid. With the lid sticking fast, her knuckles turned white. She threw a look of contempt across the room, to the figure sitting at her dining table. The edge of her lips curled upwards in a sneer, and a small puff of air escaped her nose, as if from an agitated fighting bull. The presence of the stranger gave her a feeling of anxiety, an emotion she struggled to conceal.
Posted by Karmen at 3:48 PM • 1 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
October 22, 2006
Category: Riding the Waves
You awaken in a gloomy, unfamiliar hotel room, unsure of anything--even your own identity. You can search the room, or the dark alleys beyond, and discover the answers, but beware. Each clue may only serve to deepen the mystery, and...
Posted by Karmen at 4:46 PM • 0 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
October 21, 2006
Category: Riding the Waves
(/lurk) As a fan of the dark and eerie, a student of the strange, and a writer of creepy tales, I'm delighted by the approach of Halloween. It sort of snuck up on me, as those dark little twists tend...
Posted by Karmen at 1:46 PM • 0 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
October 13, 2006
Category: The Arrow of Time
Is a place timeless? Is a hill the same hill after a hundred years, or a thousand? For instance, this black and white photograph on the right shows a canal along the Front Range. But how old is it? Does...
Posted by Karmen at 6:48 PM • 4 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
October 9, 2006
Category: Colorado
In the early 1900s, Louis Charles McClure, who studied under the famous pioneer photographer, William Henry Jackson, followed the construction of the Denver Interurban Railroad. In or about 1908, he took a number of landscape photographs highlighting the railroad's journey...
Posted by Karmen at 1:44 PM • 1 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
October 6, 2006
Category: Fractals
To compare this evening's fractal with nature, take a walk. Look beyond the scaling patterns in the autumn leaves, the branching trees, the billowing clouds, and up into the darkness of space. If the time is right, you'll see a...
Posted by Karmen at 7:37 PM • 3 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
October 5, 2006
Category: Colorado
John Frank Church was born in the Wild West--a young cowboy on the Front Range. He used to help his Pa, George, with the harvest and driving cattle across the continental divide each spring to graze. The famous (or infamous, depending on your perspective) Buffalo Bill used to stop by the ranch to visit the family. President Grant and his daughter once spent the night, as well. Passengers on the Overland Stage Coach frequently dropped in on their way to Denver or Boulder. Frank's mother, Sarah, was always ready to greet the road-wearied travelers, with a hot, home-cooked meal and a warm, clean bed. Necessities were met through hard work. In the early rugged west, even keeping food fresh took special measures. Meat and fish were smoked and stored. "Refrigeration" involved stocking blocks of ice, carefully cut from frozen winter lake beds, in underground, concrete "iceboxes."
Posted by Karmen at 10:08 AM • 0 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
October 2, 2006
Category: The Arrow of Time
Do I have an aversion to technology? It seems absurd; I adore my computer and my microwave, my vacuum cleaner and my Ipod. So, why, then, do I hesitate to write about the impacts of technology on local history? I've...
Posted by Karmen at 6:14 PM • 3 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
