I don’t see doping scandals disappearing from sports media anytime soon and it’s a shame – a shame to see so much potentially legitimate pharmaceutical research squandered by the dark age mentality that still lingers like poison.
Doping is more or less consigned to the underworld. Everyone knows it’s going on but it can not officially exist. This unwillingness to make the practice accepted and in the open results in a huge waste.
In professional athletes, science has an abundance of human test specimens who clearly have no qualms about trying out the latest performance enhancing cocktails. This resource needs to be utilized and not shunned!
Sport has already proved itself a brilliant test arena in fields other than pharmaceuticals. For instance, nearly every major car company has a racing division that develops new technology to be tested by the fire of professional motor-sport. The data from test sessions and races is then shared with other divisions and used to develop and implement racing technology for road going applications. The reliability of average Joe’s car off the showroom floor improves, as well as lap times for racers on the circuit.
With doping illegitimate, the health of the athlete is in the hands of some shady, locker-room drug dealer. With it legitimized, the athlete is at least in the capable hands of pharmaceutical giants.
Either way it may be dangerous, but since athletes are already taking cutting edge compounds that for all we know were cooked up in a garage, why not give our pharmaceutical companies a go? There the research data they are sure to attain could at least be put to use for the greater good.
In the sporting mentality I say release restrictions and let these men and women of science see what they can do to push human achievement.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Worms and Cat
If you consume enough food for two people but have a worm in your digestive tract that absorbs half, the worm should not be thought of as a parasite but as a friend.
That being said, anyone who loves someone with an intestinal worm automatically loves the worm too by extension.
In times of emotional crisis however, when there is no one to love the person with the intestinal worm, the worm is often the only person that person can count on.
In the case of an impasse between a person with an intestinal worm and a person without, the will of the worm ridden person shall prevail as it is effectively two vs. one.
On a sadder note, today a cat suddenly came into my life and vanished as fast. I hope it will return. I miss it.
That being said, anyone who loves someone with an intestinal worm automatically loves the worm too by extension.
In times of emotional crisis however, when there is no one to love the person with the intestinal worm, the worm is often the only person that person can count on.
In the case of an impasse between a person with an intestinal worm and a person without, the will of the worm ridden person shall prevail as it is effectively two vs. one.
On a sadder note, today a cat suddenly came into my life and vanished as fast. I hope it will return. I miss it.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Friday, November 2, 2007
Captain's log.
Cortland date one one oh two oh seven.
No work was accomplished tonight due to an "inundation" of street dwellers. All is not lost, however; young ensign Smith of engineering managed to repair the pilot light. The nauxious fumes have been eliminated and productivity is expected to increase.
We are presently in a holding course awaiting further instruction by way of email for our next project. It has been one day and the crew is showing signs of unease.
On a positive note, I managed to charm a female leutenant of a neighboring vessel into swabbing my deck.
I hope the crew will be able to move about on the slippery surface. We shall see tomorrow.
That is all.
Cortland date one one oh two oh seven.
No work was accomplished tonight due to an "inundation" of street dwellers. All is not lost, however; young ensign Smith of engineering managed to repair the pilot light. The nauxious fumes have been eliminated and productivity is expected to increase.
We are presently in a holding course awaiting further instruction by way of email for our next project. It has been one day and the crew is showing signs of unease.
On a positive note, I managed to charm a female leutenant of a neighboring vessel into swabbing my deck.
I hope the crew will be able to move about on the slippery surface. We shall see tomorrow.
That is all.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Wastrels
Gentle Reader!
On this fitting day, the Feast of Saints Aubert and Luke, Saints who Loved the poor and respected the plights of the down-hoven, who in the primacy of their sainthood could be seen skipping through the streets strewwing bulbs of garlic like graffitti onto the dazzled wastrels on their way to sacrifice a fledgling calf to the heavens, I too have decided to add these acts to my repoitoir of saintly credentials as today I managed to have Steven, my associate, procure a splendid calf which I intend to sacrifice in the near future for all the wastrels to behold.
Details of this may naturally follow the convocation.
Dear God,
I expect that in your infinite wisdom you have practiced the self control to shield your eyes from the surprise that is due to you in a weeks time!
That is all for today.
Until next time,
Your selfless Ace,
H.H
On this fitting day, the Feast of Saints Aubert and Luke, Saints who Loved the poor and respected the plights of the down-hoven, who in the primacy of their sainthood could be seen skipping through the streets strewwing bulbs of garlic like graffitti onto the dazzled wastrels on their way to sacrifice a fledgling calf to the heavens, I too have decided to add these acts to my repoitoir of saintly credentials as today I managed to have Steven, my associate, procure a splendid calf which I intend to sacrifice in the near future for all the wastrels to behold.
Details of this may naturally follow the convocation.
Dear God,
I expect that in your infinite wisdom you have practiced the self control to shield your eyes from the surprise that is due to you in a weeks time!
That is all for today.
Until next time,
Your selfless Ace,
H.H
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Daily Trumpet
Dear reader!
Cease your despair.
I, H. Hedgewig, doubtlessly unlike your wily father who went out for cigarettes, have returned.
Naturally, details of my absence must wait until after the convocation.
Dear God,
Do not wait until I have expired to see to my Sainthood Status as it will mean less to me then.
I do not hold you at fault for the fact that this status has yet to be confered, but the slovenly beurocracy of the church here in Cortland.
I trust you to unordain these clergy, namely Father Navara and his apple polisher, Deacon Shem, Whose offenses against the Cortland community in matters of sound judgement I am sure have reached your attention many times prior.
Neither are redeemable of their sloth and ignorance.
I consider each day these serpents are allowed to loung amongst the must-reeking, wine stained velour of St. Roget's Rectory a failure of admonishment in your house.
Replace them with suitable spiritual servants so that my work may continue unfestered.
To commemorate your blessing I have begun preliminary work on my latest iron statue entitled, "The Ecstasy of Saint Hedgwig" which you should find appealing.
My Constituants are close to an agreement with Mayor Gallagher's Cabinet to have the statue placed in Corning Park, so its resplendence may show through the stained glass of St. Rogets. This is assuming the town makes the gesture of providing a simple placard.
May you continue delivering revelations to me in dreams. I particularly enjoyed last night's trumpetous romp through the Gate of Dis. I found the blaring tones envigorating and noted the recoiling effect it had upon the wretched.
Continue to impart your blessing so that I may serve you better.
Raise your head dear reader,
Unregretably, I must now tend to my primary and secondary affairs.
Stay couth.
Your servant,
- H.H
Cease your despair.
I, H. Hedgewig, doubtlessly unlike your wily father who went out for cigarettes, have returned.
Naturally, details of my absence must wait until after the convocation.
Dear God,
Do not wait until I have expired to see to my Sainthood Status as it will mean less to me then.
I do not hold you at fault for the fact that this status has yet to be confered, but the slovenly beurocracy of the church here in Cortland.
I trust you to unordain these clergy, namely Father Navara and his apple polisher, Deacon Shem, Whose offenses against the Cortland community in matters of sound judgement I am sure have reached your attention many times prior.
Neither are redeemable of their sloth and ignorance.
I consider each day these serpents are allowed to loung amongst the must-reeking, wine stained velour of St. Roget's Rectory a failure of admonishment in your house.
Replace them with suitable spiritual servants so that my work may continue unfestered.
To commemorate your blessing I have begun preliminary work on my latest iron statue entitled, "The Ecstasy of Saint Hedgwig" which you should find appealing.
My Constituants are close to an agreement with Mayor Gallagher's Cabinet to have the statue placed in Corning Park, so its resplendence may show through the stained glass of St. Rogets. This is assuming the town makes the gesture of providing a simple placard.
May you continue delivering revelations to me in dreams. I particularly enjoyed last night's trumpetous romp through the Gate of Dis. I found the blaring tones envigorating and noted the recoiling effect it had upon the wretched.
Continue to impart your blessing so that I may serve you better.
Raise your head dear reader,
Unregretably, I must now tend to my primary and secondary affairs.
Stay couth.
Your servant,
- H.H
Thursday, August 30, 2007
The Cortland Beacon Reaches New Readership!
Dear reader,
I, H. Hedgewig III, heir of Hedgewig Iron Works Facility of Cortland NY, am pleased to present The Cortland Beacon in resplendent electronic format.
Naturally, details of how this came to pass must wait until after the convocation.
Dear God,
Thank you for the eternal favor that you have granted me.
May my readership and prestige be boosted through your grace.
May you grant me the strength and good will to continue to chronicle my struggle to exist amongst the barbarians.
Continue to visit me in dreams so that I may continue to know that I am right.
You are welcome for any services rendered by myself in your name.
Now back to you dear reader,
My daily struggle for social magnanimity, in a world overwhelmingly lacking the capacity neither to recognize nor achieve this goal, brought me to the local ‘Cash and Carry.’ Here I procured a roasted beef and ham on white with horseradish mustard and garlic sauce, (what the townies hopelessly call a ‘Flagstaff.’)
After suffering myself to insist the garrulous counter wench be silent while conducting my transaction for the sake of preserving her limited focus, she reverted to peevishness. Unfazed, I made off for my home so that I might eat the roasted beef and ham and be energized for my latest work, “A Discourse on Divine Resolution in Central New York.”
With sandwich in hand, I staunchly waded through a block of senile, Pabst sodden townies, and other wretches inhabiting this acrid, piss filled, shallow end of the gene pool that if not for my piety, I would soon abandon.Turning the corner of Troughet and Billings I was smacked low by an unmitigated stench billowing from a hundred or so of these drug laden degenerates loitering outside of the P.H Coffers Laboratory, doubtlessly hoping to become biomedical test subjects in return for food, A tried and true practice that has since made a resurgence under the new Coffers regime.
Here the throng of unwashed was as thick as the gourd heads of those who spawned them. Forced to turn around for the sake of dignity, I came face to face with what was presumably some kind of student who was also making his way through the unwashed mass.
I, H. Hedgewig III, heir of Hedgewig Iron Works Facility of Cortland NY, am pleased to present The Cortland Beacon in resplendent electronic format.
Naturally, details of how this came to pass must wait until after the convocation.
Dear God,
Thank you for the eternal favor that you have granted me.
May my readership and prestige be boosted through your grace.
May you grant me the strength and good will to continue to chronicle my struggle to exist amongst the barbarians.
Continue to visit me in dreams so that I may continue to know that I am right.
You are welcome for any services rendered by myself in your name.
Now back to you dear reader,
My daily struggle for social magnanimity, in a world overwhelmingly lacking the capacity neither to recognize nor achieve this goal, brought me to the local ‘Cash and Carry.’ Here I procured a roasted beef and ham on white with horseradish mustard and garlic sauce, (what the townies hopelessly call a ‘Flagstaff.’)
After suffering myself to insist the garrulous counter wench be silent while conducting my transaction for the sake of preserving her limited focus, she reverted to peevishness. Unfazed, I made off for my home so that I might eat the roasted beef and ham and be energized for my latest work, “A Discourse on Divine Resolution in Central New York.”
With sandwich in hand, I staunchly waded through a block of senile, Pabst sodden townies, and other wretches inhabiting this acrid, piss filled, shallow end of the gene pool that if not for my piety, I would soon abandon.Turning the corner of Troughet and Billings I was smacked low by an unmitigated stench billowing from a hundred or so of these drug laden degenerates loitering outside of the P.H Coffers Laboratory, doubtlessly hoping to become biomedical test subjects in return for food, A tried and true practice that has since made a resurgence under the new Coffers regime.
Here the throng of unwashed was as thick as the gourd heads of those who spawned them. Forced to turn around for the sake of dignity, I came face to face with what was presumably some kind of student who was also making his way through the unwashed mass.
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