I finally made the plunge and upgraded to movable type version 4.1. My original hope was to keep my blog looking exactly the same as it had been, only with the additional functionality of the new version. That dream soon died. At least all the content seems to be intact. But I will have to make some extensive modifications. And there's digital rubbish all over my server which will need to be cleaned up at some point. ARGGHHHH!!!
June 2008 Archives
I just discovered an awesome website for any blogger who is trying to increase his site traffic. I currently get about three or four visitors per day. And, while I thank those loyal three or four readers for their interest, I can't help but feel jameslogan.md is underachieving. The site I'm talking about is problogger.net. They have some excellent tips for finding new readers and publicizing your blog.
Which brings me to my second point: why do we care so much whether or not any reads our blog anyway? For those select few who attract thousands of visitors per day and for whom blogging is a real business, the answer is obvious. Their revenue is directly tied to their readership. But, for the vast majority of us, blogging is only a hobby destined to earn us $0 over the course of our blog's lifetime. So, why do we care whether or not anyone reads us? Are we hoping to become famous? Are we hoping to gain power and influence? Are we clinging to some subconscoius notion that, if only people knew what we had to say then everyone else would see the light and agree with us and there'd be no more war, no more poverty? For me, I think the combination of all these things comprises about 15% my motivation. The other 85% is comprised roughly equal parts vanity and exhibitionism.
Why do you blog?
Ok, I'm officially an intern now...again. Keep those transfers to a minimum, Outside Hospital!
In addition to Caroline Kennedy, who is the daughter of the late President John F. Kennedy, former Deputy Attorney General Eric Holder and longtime Washington insider Jim Johnson, I - James Logan, M.D. - have been chosen to assist in the search for a running mate for Barack Obama. Here are a few names we've been kicking around.
I promise to keep my readers updated on the process, as more candidates are vetted.
After a long and contentionus fight, Barack Obama is the presumptive Democratic nominee. But who will be his running mate? | ||
| PROS | CONS | |
 Hillary Clinton |
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 Joe Lieberman |
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 Wesley Clark |
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 Dr. Pacman |
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I promise to keep my readers updated on the process, as more candidates are vetted.
My girlfriend and I watched the movie The Pursuit of Happiness tonight. Grossly overrated movie but it does include a really nice version of Simon and Garfunkel's song, "Bridge Over Troubled Water" sung by Roberta Flack from her 1971 album Quiet Fire. Here's YouTube clip from one of Simon and Garfunkel's live performances:
I really love that song. I would kill to be able to sing it the way Art Garfunkel does. I really would. Most of the time, when people say they would kill for something, it's just a euphemism, "I'd kill for a doughnut right now, I could just kill someone, you kill me...etc" But I really mean it. I would actually commit cold blooded murder in order to be able to sing like that. I mean, I wouldn't kill my sister or my parents. In fact, there's a pretty long list of people whom I would not kill no matter what I would get in return. But the guy who gave me a parking ticket last week, the woman at the DMV who wouldn't give me my plates, Anne Coulter... I would truly consider killing one or more of these people in order to be able to hit some of those high notes in a song like "Bridge Over Troubled Water."
What a great song ;-)
If you go to my links page, you'll see that I've created an aggregation of some medical blogs I read using yahoo pipes. The pipe displays the combined most recent 25 entries from the 30 or so sites that I've aggregated so far. This, like everything on this site, is a work in progress. What I'd like to do is establish a semi-official, comprehensive MedBlogs pipe. If you see one of your posts listed, then I've already included your blog in the pipe. If you don't see one of your posts in the pipe and you'd like to be added, contact me with your blog url and I'll add you. Please spread the word on your own site too!
Learn more about pipes here.
One of the first orders of business one needs to take care of when moving to California is to get a California driver's license and California plates. I had reserved a full day for this endeavor, anticipating that it would take at least the entire morning to achieve complete Californization of my vehicle and of all my vehicular activities. If I were to fail within that time span, surely I would succeed by mid to late afternoon. In preparation, I had scoured boxes upon unpacked boxes in my apartment, gathering every document that I felt had even the slightest chance of proving remotely relevant to my quest.
Brimming with confidence, I boldly rolled my file cabinet's worth of documentation up to the reception desk. I was about to feed the bureaucratic process a can of whoopass. Fists on hips and face to the sky, my hair blowing wildly, I summoned my deepest, most heroic sounding voice and announced, "I am here to obtain a California license and registration." With a bored expression, the clerk reached up and turned off the fan which had just kicked on unexpectedly. My hair was no longer blowing, but I still felt pretty heroic.
"Do you have your birth certificate?" Though delivered by an actual white-haired lady behind the counter, the words could have just as easily been delivered by an automated phone menu. "I've got it right here!" I jerked open the top file drawer, yanked out a manila folder and, with a toothy smile, I casually tossed it on the desk before her.
"Passport?"
"Never leave home without it," I patted my breast pocket.
"Proof of insurance?"
"I'm in good hands!" I pulled an Allstate insurance card out of my wallet.
Now, I could see the wheels turning. Apparently considering me a worthy opponent, the clerk's lips curled into a smile. "Do you have your original car title, the car's current mileage, original mileage at time of purchase, date of original purchase, amount paid at time of original purchase, notarized proof of sale, amount paid in taxes at the time of original purchase and a listing of government programs those tax dollars went towards sponsoring?" I pulled out the requisite documents and sorted them neatly in front of her. Feigning indifference, she pressed on. "What is your gender?"
"Male."
"Race?"
"White."
"Ever been convicted of a felony?"
"No."
"When's the last time you donated blood?"
"May 12, 2002."
"Favorite color?"
"Purple." She almost caught me with this one; I had almost said, 'black.' But, I got it at the last second.
"Alright," she now began typing - or pretending to type, I couldn't be sure - some of this information into her computer. "I'll just need a copy of your previous, out of state license, a record of your most recent grade point average, and proof of what you ate for breakfast this morning." I calmly laid out my Illinois license, a copy of my medical school transcript and a half-eaten doughnut.
A feeling of pride began to well up inside me. The end was in sight! All that remained would be a battery physical and mental challenges most likely including an eye test, written test, driving test, photograph, vehicle inspection, the feat of strength, some signatures and fees - a long, drawn out hassle to be sure, but a clear path to victory! But the clerk would have one final trick up her sleeve - something I had not anticipated. Her eyes narrowed, her steely expression unwavering. Has your car been smogged?"
I gulped. "Smogged?" I repeated dumbly, trying to imagine what the verb 'to smog' might refer to and hoping desperately that it was something that I had done at some point.
Smelling blood, she pressed on. "Yes, smogged. How do you expect me to certify your CS-39 authorization unless your car has been smogged."
I was now a helpless rabbit, dangling in her vice-like grip and I saw no signal to indicate that she had any intention of relenting. My confidence utterly deflated, I had only one play left to make. "Has my vehicle been smogged...um, I had the emissions tested in Illinois?"
This was all she needed The day was hers. "Oh, I'm sorry," a rivulet of sarcasm dripped from her mouth, leaving a small puddle on the floor. "You'll have to have your vehicle smogged in California before we can give you a California registration. Please come back when you've gotten that taken care of. NEXT!"
Defeated, I began to put away the mountain of paper that had accumulated. I hung my head and trudged for the exit, pushing my filing cabinet in front of me like a homeless person with their shopping cart.
Well played, California DMV. This round goes to you.
Brimming with confidence, I boldly rolled my file cabinet's worth of documentation up to the reception desk. I was about to feed the bureaucratic process a can of whoopass. Fists on hips and face to the sky, my hair blowing wildly, I summoned my deepest, most heroic sounding voice and announced, "I am here to obtain a California license and registration." With a bored expression, the clerk reached up and turned off the fan which had just kicked on unexpectedly. My hair was no longer blowing, but I still felt pretty heroic.
"Do you have your birth certificate?" Though delivered by an actual white-haired lady behind the counter, the words could have just as easily been delivered by an automated phone menu. "I've got it right here!" I jerked open the top file drawer, yanked out a manila folder and, with a toothy smile, I casually tossed it on the desk before her.
"Passport?"
"Never leave home without it," I patted my breast pocket.
"Proof of insurance?"
"I'm in good hands!" I pulled an Allstate insurance card out of my wallet.
Now, I could see the wheels turning. Apparently considering me a worthy opponent, the clerk's lips curled into a smile. "Do you have your original car title, the car's current mileage, original mileage at time of purchase, date of original purchase, amount paid at time of original purchase, notarized proof of sale, amount paid in taxes at the time of original purchase and a listing of government programs those tax dollars went towards sponsoring?" I pulled out the requisite documents and sorted them neatly in front of her. Feigning indifference, she pressed on. "What is your gender?"
"Male."
"Race?"
"White."
"Ever been convicted of a felony?"
"No."
"When's the last time you donated blood?"
"May 12, 2002."
"Favorite color?"
"Purple." She almost caught me with this one; I had almost said, 'black.' But, I got it at the last second.
"Alright," she now began typing - or pretending to type, I couldn't be sure - some of this information into her computer. "I'll just need a copy of your previous, out of state license, a record of your most recent grade point average, and proof of what you ate for breakfast this morning." I calmly laid out my Illinois license, a copy of my medical school transcript and a half-eaten doughnut.
A feeling of pride began to well up inside me. The end was in sight! All that remained would be a battery physical and mental challenges most likely including an eye test, written test, driving test, photograph, vehicle inspection, the feat of strength, some signatures and fees - a long, drawn out hassle to be sure, but a clear path to victory! But the clerk would have one final trick up her sleeve - something I had not anticipated. Her eyes narrowed, her steely expression unwavering. Has your car been smogged?"
I gulped. "Smogged?" I repeated dumbly, trying to imagine what the verb 'to smog' might refer to and hoping desperately that it was something that I had done at some point.
Smelling blood, she pressed on. "Yes, smogged. How do you expect me to certify your CS-39 authorization unless your car has been smogged."
I was now a helpless rabbit, dangling in her vice-like grip and I saw no signal to indicate that she had any intention of relenting. My confidence utterly deflated, I had only one play left to make. "Has my vehicle been smogged...um, I had the emissions tested in Illinois?"
This was all she needed The day was hers. "Oh, I'm sorry," a rivulet of sarcasm dripped from her mouth, leaving a small puddle on the floor. "You'll have to have your vehicle smogged in California before we can give you a California registration. Please come back when you've gotten that taken care of. NEXT!"
Defeated, I began to put away the mountain of paper that had accumulated. I hung my head and trudged for the exit, pushing my filing cabinet in front of me like a homeless person with their shopping cart.
Well played, California DMV. This round goes to you.
The sum total of all my worldly possessions are now either a) in my car, b) are my car, c) in the custody of the U.S. postal service, or d) on my person. Tomorrow morning, my father and I are taking the mother of all road trips - Chicago to Sacramento in 4 days! To prepare, I have assembled the following listening material for the many hours of driving:
- Barack Obama, The Audacity of Hope
- Steve Martin, Pure Drivel
- The Twilight Zone, Selected Radio Dramas
- David Sedaris, When You are Engulfed in Flames
- Arianna Huffington, Right is Wrong
And, if any time remains, I have some audio books borrowed from my parents including:
- Thomas Cathcart & Daniel Klein, Aristotle and an Aardvark go to Washington
- Great Classic Stories by authors including:
- Oscar Wilde
- Edgar Allen Poe
- Guy de Maupassant
- F. Scott Fitzgerald
- C.S. Lewis The Screwtape Letters
- Monty Python's Flying Circus, Greatest Hits
I should be back to blogging around the middle of next week.
A new Grand Rounds is up at The Happy Hospitalist. Read entertaining post from all around the healthcare blogosphere!
Remember that Simpsons Halloween special where Kang and Kodos try to take over the Earth by posing as Bob Dole and Bill Clinton during the 1996 election? In yet another demonstration of how The Simpsons was ahead of it's time, Kodos/Bob Dole has the following line, "I hope we achieve a fair result in the election, eliminating the need for a violent bloodbath."
The movie Recount, which premiered on HBO on May 25, portrays the events surrounding the contested results of Florida's vote in the 2000 election. Though it tends to give me atrial flutter whenever I revisit those events, I very much enjoyed the movie. Kevin Spacey stars as Ron Klain, Gore's former chief of staff, who was largely in charge of the legal effort to get the votes in Florida recounted. On May 9, Charlie Rose talked to Kevin Spacey about his role. Although Spacey went on record as disagreeing with this assertion, the film is clearly biased in favor of those who would have liked to see the Florida recount proceed. It would be pretty poor storytelling to portray it any other way. However, there is a speech by James Baker's character towards the end (played by Tom Wilkinson) that I liked very much. His point is that, whatever you can say about the 2000 election, we followed a proper, legal process. The tension that our country experienced could have easily escalated to the level of a national crisis, perhaps even civil war. But the legal process was followed, the various Florida courts as well as the Supreme Court made their respective rulings and those rulings were respected. There were no tanks in the streets, no riots, no armed insurgency.
So, for those of you - like me - for whom the past eight years have been a perpetual nightmare, I recommend this movie. If you compare ourselves to countries like Kenya or Zimbabwe, who couldn't make a peaceful transition of power if their lives depended on it, this movie may restore some of your faith in our democracy.
Charlie's interview with Kevin Spacey can be seen here:
