The Honduran Presidency

   The more I think about it (and I do think about it because I'm a political science nerd like that) the more I think the recent ousting of the president of Honduras is NOT a condemnable coup d'etat but exactly what was supposed to happen.

   This entry shall assume you know nothing about it, so no excuses for not following along (:


   Recently the president of Honduras decided he wanted to hold a referendum on changing the constitution to allow him to run for a another term. Problem is, not only does their constitution say he can't serve another term, it says he can't CHANGE that clause either. So their Supreme Court told him he couldn't do that .. but he ignored them.

   The president then asked the military to give him the elections materials (because apparently they keep it) and the military refused, as his planned referendum was unconstitutional. He then fired the head of the military ... and the Supreme Court reinstated him.
   The president then proceeded to where the elections materials were kept with the national police and his supporters and took custody of it.

   ...and the next morning the Supreme Court authorized the military to arrest and deport him. They did so and the congress (which also condemned his unconstitutional ambitions btw, even his own party) supported it. They then followed the normal line of succession and the head of his party in congress was sworn in.


   So here's my take on it. The military is tasked with protecting the constitution. The Court is tasked with determining what is right. No one disputes he was trying to violate the constitution, and so the military defended it by removing him. (I'm not an expert on Honduran politics but what I've read says there was no "viable" means to impeach him, I'm not sure what that means but I'm taking it at face value).

   Yet Obama and many other heads of state are condemning this as a evil coup d'etat. I think it's the checks and balances of separation of powers acting exactly like they should. It's like people agree with checks and balances in principal, but when it comes down to it they think the executive is always right and the other branches have no right to interfere (granted the military is not a branch, but in this case they appear to have acted only in a manner expressly authorized by the congress and judiciary)

30 of 30 - Going Out With Fashion

   I wouldn't say I care much about fashion. I don't give a rats ass about fashion. In fact I think "fashion" is the most ridiculous waste of time anyone has ever bothered to be concerned about.
   Or at least that's true when we're talking about "Fashion" in the sense that some things are in fashion (and some things are SO (like totally) out of fashion by a month or something). But in terms of thinking about how I'm going to dress, well I do that, and so does everyone else. Even that guy I know who wears a hawaiian shirt and fedora every single day. Or for that matter, even if you dress in the most unnoteworthy way imaginable, you're still sending a distinct message about who you are.
   The way you dress is of course the first impression you make on nearly everyone, it is the most basic form of what is basically social marketing. The guy in the fedora and hawaiian shirt probably thinks it says "laid back and quirky" (though somehow it mainly says he's the go to guy to find a game of dungeons and dragons, or at least that's my own wild assumption).

   For the latter part of high school and through college I dressed punkish. Now at 27 I've become suspicious of anyone who is still trying to "live the dream" and dress and act punk (in their late 20s at least. Younger folks have at it!). But first let's go back and examine what it was all about:

   A common criticism leveled by the totally-baffled-by-punks is that "they all dress the same!!" It is true that by and large a lot of the punks I knew could pretty consistently by found with their black converse shoes, grey dickies shorts, studded belt, band shirt (usually black), and dickies jacket (usually grey, sometimes dark blue or black) covered in band patches. But the criticism that they all look the same misses the point of why they dress like that. Possibly the primary reason one dresses a certain way is to attract like-minded people -- to instantly recognize in eachother that you're the same kind of person.
   People, even people who hate punks, seem to assume that punks are all creative and should apply that creativity to the way they dress (I guess because the whole mess looks "creative" on a whole to the uninitiated) ... but the fact is that I found most punks were not necessarily any more imaginative than any other person. They may perhaps have been more musically inclined, but a lot were just your average people who liked the music and therefore decided to dress the part. And like most normal people, dressing the part meant seeing what everyone else was wearing and immitating it. Even the piercings, tattoos and dyed hair, it was all just what their friends were doing.
   Which isn't to say there wasn't ANYTHING more to it and everyone was just a poser. I myself had a large green mohawk for about two years, and there was definitely a lot more to it than just "it's the punk thing to do."
   When you have a great big green mohawk, everyone stops and looks at you. It sets you apart from 99% of everyone else people see during the day (unless you're in berkeley). First of all it takes a little guts to put yourself in the spotlight like that, and people recognize that, at least subconsciously, and see you and think "wow they have some guts." Conversely it also makes wanna-be gangsters who hate punks want to beat you up if they catch you alone, so you've got to be prepared for that. Thirdly, people assume you're prepared for that, and I was amused to find big tough guys would get out of my way on the sidewalk.
   I think my favourite aspect of it though, was that people would assume they had no idea what I thought about things. Normally, people tend to assume they know what you're thinking, and they assume you agree with them. I don't really like this, and greatly enjoyed the way people would act like they had no idea what I thought about things (and were thus very interested to find out).
   The day I shaved off my mohawk and went into the city to interview for a Diplomatic Security job, I first had to get used to people no longer getting out of my way on the sidewalk, and then was saddened to find when I walked past a group of punks they no longer all jumped up to make my acquaintance. I was just another guy in a suit. ):

   I never liked the idea of looking like everyone else though. That's why even during my most punkish stages I never owned a pair of converse or dickies shorts (but I did end up with the rest of the outfit I guess).
   Other than the punk look though I've always liked to dress in a way that sort of harkens back to sometime between the 18th century and 1850s (or friends joke that my look is "sea captain"). Muttonchops, suspenders, peacoat... I figure if I dress in a way that never is IN style (my century anyway), it'll never be specifically out of style. Dear current trendy guys: you think those bell bottoms from the 70s look funny? Wait till your kids see pictures of you wearing your girl pants!!


Vaguely Related Picture of the Day

Well after all that I realized I pretty much had to post a picture of myself dressed "typically." I like this picture because it reminds me of clockwork orange.
(this is what's in my hand btw)

(and as an added bonus here's me dressed particularly UN-typically (and fifteen!)

30 of 30 - Melissa

I wrote the following for my other blog last April, so my apologies to those of you who are seeing it a second time and for the references to posts earlier that week which you haven't seen, but I got a lot of positive feedback about the entry so.. here it is:

---

   I met a girl on Thursday.

   Her name is Melissa.

   And I brought her home with me.

   And she is a honeybee.

   When a swarm of bees moves on (from somewhere they've rested while searching for a new place to establish a hive), bees that were out scouting miss the boat. They return to the former location of the swarm and wait, and wait ... and wait...

   As you may recall, I moved a swarm on Wednesday. So on Thursday there was a clump of those "residual bees."
   Knowing what I know about bee psychology, I knew they were in a mind set of waiting for a swarm that would never come. So they'd be sitting tight where they were. And they wouldn't be stinging anything either.

   So I put my finger in front of one of them, and she climbed on. I drove home with her on my hand. And I named her Melissa.

   Bees in a residual cluster usually die within a few days. Probably from hunger (they don't conduct any food gathering or production) or exposure. So I figured she was probably hungry, but I didn't know if she'd eat "in captivity."
   Honestly, my first thought for some reason was to give her sugar water (I guess because that's what we feed the bees out in the field when there's not enough natural forage for them in winter). But then I was like, wait, I have honey, duh.
   So I put a dab of honey on my hand and, sure enough, she walked over to it and I could see her lapping it up with her little bee tongue.

   All Thursday evening I went about my business with Melissa on my hand. She was walking around pretty constantly, so I became worried she'd tire herself out. Turned out the lights (and laptopped just by laptop light) and she slowed down and shortly appeared to actually fall asleep.

   Previous to turning the lights out though, at one point she fell off my hand (onto my desk) and starting shaking violently. I was concerned by bee was going berserk! ): But I put my finger in front of her and she crawled on it and stopped shaking. I think she missed me <3 (:


   Overnight I put her in a cup with a piece of paper over the top so she wouldn't roam my room while I slept.


   I took her to work the next day and let her crawl around my desk. She made a surprisingly good office pet (though I'm guessing most offices wouldn't welcome her *sadface*)- she just roamed my desk and if it looked like she was going too far away I'd put my finger in front of her and she'd climb on.

Meet Melissa:

(Sorry the video mode on my camera absolutely fails at getting things up close)

   Around noon coworker Jeremy came in to inform us that Dave had lost the lawsuit. Melissa was on my hand at the time. For about a minute we stared at Jeremy waiting for him to say "just kidding." He didn't, but while we were distracted I didn't even notice Melissa crawl up my arm and onto my neck. At literally almost the exact moment it dawned on me that Dave really had lost the case, I felt a stinging sensation in my neck. ):
   Now I was pretty distracted at the time, and so was everyone else. So I waited a minute or two before asking "guys, um, did my bee just sting me?" "um... yes she did" "is she okay???" ):
   Amy gently picked her up from my neck and handed her to me. I anxiously examined her for the extent of damage to her. The stinger had pulled out but I couldn't actually see any damage to her. Someone has suggested maybe it broke off sideways and therefore didn't rupture her abdomen?
   "Aren't you going to take the stinger out of your neck?" someone asked. Oh yeah, that. sure.

   Now the fact that she stung me at that exact moment I find very interesting. I've always kind of suspected that bees can sense mood. That might sound like hocus pocus, but mood effects your tenseness, blood pressure, body temperature, any number of things that bees can probably sense. My boss Dave, who has much much more experience beekeeping than I do, gets stung more than I do, and I've kind of attributed it to this. He usually gets all riled up about one thing or another, and the bees start stinging him. I can walk right through a cloud of bees from a disturbed colony without getting stung, because I'm usually as calm as buddha out there. Actually I'm more than calm, I'm probably giving off loving vibes towards the bees. <3
   When I'm walking through clouds of bees that should be defensive, and they're not stinging me, I feel so trusted and loved by the bees.

   So my mood suddenly changed dramatically and it freaked Melissa out and she stung me. Either that or I just turned my head and pinched her. I think it's probably a combination of both -- I'd accidently pinched her before (when she'd crawl between two of my fingers while typing) and she hadn't stung me, and I doubt if she was on my hand and I got mad about something she'd immediately sting me.
   I was very concerned that she would now die, and carefully monitored her condition.
   At first she seemed very worked up, walking around fast in an agitated fashion, but then she calmed down to her usual demeanor.

   Shortly I went to lunch and took her with me. In the car on the return trip she flew off my hand onto the passenger side window. This was the first time I'd seen her fly any distance. So it was a good sign for her health but also kind of made me think "aw she wants to fly around ): "
   My plan at this point was to keep her alive until I visited where I'd moved her swarm to. Then I could reunite her with her hive and feel like I'd accomplished something. It would also be interesting to see just how long I could keep her alive, but I thought that seemed cruel -- bees are members of a hive of thousands, and she must be incredibly lonely on her own (it may seem silly to ascribe too many human emotions to something like a bee, but I'd imagine it makes sense that not being around other bees would cause her to experience actual stress).
   Walking back through the parking lot towards the office she took off, flew around me twice, and landed back on me. <3

   Then I went back to the car to get her cup, since it had a dab of honey in it for her to eat, and during this trip through the parking lot she took off and flew off into the sunny afternoon air.
   I was sad to see her go but I'm going to go ahead and wildly assume she flew off and went on to have exciting adventures and be adopted by a new hive (:

   Once again this provides an insight into bee psychology though. Previously, as I noted, her life mission was to hang tight. I think stinging probably erased that mission statement (since stinging is usually a life changing experience for bees of course) and she thereafter no longer felt the obligation to sit around waiting for a swarm that would never return, and flew off to seek her fortune.

---

   As a beekeeper I of course meet lots of bees, and experience a lot of bee behaviour. But one never gets the opportunity to observe a single bee as an individual, so this was an extremely interesting experience for me.

   Also you might be wondering why I would name a bee "Melissa." The answer is of course that "Melissa" was the most obvious name in the world. Melissa, you see, means honeybee.