I was amazed at the digital aging* process created in this series of photographs.

Digital image manipulation has reached such a level that years can now be both added and subtracted equally well from a given photograph. We should probably amend that old adage, “You can’t always believe everything you see” to “You can’t believe most of what you see” in the age of Photoshop and CGI rendering.

It would be interesting to see a comparison of how the model actually ages compared to the digital simulations - the most incredible thing about these pictures is that, to my eyes anyway, she is as beautiful at 60 as she is at 20!

* The logophiles amongst the readership here at dc.com will note the curious American English spelling of the word ‘ageing’ as ‘aging’. I much prefer the UK retention of the ‘e’ but I’ve omitted it here in deference to Word Press’ spell checker.

One of the advantages, or perhaps disadvantages, of going home for the holidays, is that I always end up messing around on my old Mac. It’s still humming away, running very nearly all the time as a kind of internet portal for my parents to use when my Mom doesn’t have her work machine set up.

When I brought the computer home, I set up a user account for my parents so they wouldn’t go deleting anything under my profile. Normally, when I get on the computer, I surf the net logged in under their name - I don’t even bother to log in as myself.

Today though, I decided to download some music software only to realize that I had not granted my folks permission to run applications downloaded off of the net.

So I logged in as myself, with access to all my old files - music, chats, email, undergrad work, etc. My digital life from circa 2003 to 2007 all before me.

At first I just cruised around listening to some old music and recordings Dave and I had done - most of which are not even up on this site - like “the archive of the archive” type stuff.

But then I couldn’t resist - I had to open up those old AIM messages from 2004 to see just what I was talking to people about. Geez. Those chats turned out to be the key to the floodgates holding back a lot of memories.

First, there was Dave - out at Mercer, talking about living in the dorms, about jamming with friends, and crappy internet connections and lunch foods and the sweet tea that flows like a river out in Georgia.

Then there was Paul - joining his fraternity and a million invites to go out and have a good time - most of which I didn’t take him up on. I sort of feel sad about that now, oddly enough.

Then there was my “Lafayette friends”: Kelli, and Daniel, and Tara, and Thomas - all of us drifting further and further apart even then. I didn’t understand it, and we certainly didn’t talk about it, but it’s the undercurrent of every conversation I was having in 2004. Looking back at that time, it seems slow but inevitable.

And finally my then-girlfriend Katie - I try really hard not to talk about my personal life on the blog these days - it’s a security thing, mixed with feelings that I really shouldn’t be putting my feelings under someone else’s blog. But this really was too much - I seemed like such a busy asshole! It makes me regret taking school so seriously - it’s like I really didn’t have much time for anything or anyone else. To be at least a little fair to myself, she and I were both very studious (and so we were both busy), but even reading those little brief conversations, I come off more often than not as a person who just wasn’t making time for the person who really was more important to me than anything else at that point in my life.

I’m not going to be sad over all this however, because, five or so years later I’ve learned my lesson. One thing I’m very proud of about my working life thus far is that I have always made time for friends and social activities and even for the spontaneous concert or drink after work. It’s friends and family and the people I care about that get my first priority today - I only wish I would have acted that way during my college days when I actually had a lot of free time to go around.

I think this is why I can’t imagine myself going back to graduate school at this point in my life - I don’t want to be consumed by the 24 hour work cycle that is higher education.

The definitive answer to my oft-asked rhetorical question, “How can anyone enjoy cold winter weather?” just dawned on me tonight while changing into my pajamas. No one actually enjoys being cold; people enjoy their ability to escape being cold.

It all makes sense now. Winter is one big ego-trip for us well-fed, well-clothed, well-sheltered, privileged people. The cold, or rather, our ability to escape from it, reminds us just how powerful we really are. It doesn’t matter what the temperature is outside - I will remain comfortable. Show me what you’ve got mother nature, because I’ve got Northface™.

Disregard for cold weather is blind hubris with a dash of consumerist fetish. Any questions?

Even though the election is over, I still find myself having arguments with friends, co-workers, roommates, etc. about the proposed Democratic tax plan. The gist of their argument is that if a person makes over $250,000, their personal income tax will be increased by some large percent (15% is what I’ve heard most often). So, for future argumentative purposes, and for general clarification, here is a very nice visual representation of both parties proposed tax plans from the rather neutral news outlet The Washington Post:

As you can see, only those in the top 1% of the earnings bracket will see a tax hike under the proposed Democratic plan and it will be (at most and for the super-rich only) 11%.

So please world, if you’re thinking about mentioning this to me or anyone else in the near future, get your facts straight. There’s no excuse in this age of information to be confused about these issues - especially, when it’s about your hard-earned dollars.

Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

I stood in line for around 30 minutes yesterday to vote, but I didn’t mind the wait at all.

Watching the returns last night with a group of like-minded friends, I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud to call this country home. I teared up during Obama’s speech to the crowd in Grant Park, a place I had stood around in only 3 months earlier.

As Elie Wiesel famously said, “Hope is like peace. It is not a gift from God. It is a gift only we can give one another. ”

Last night, this country hoped for the future together - what could be more beautiful?

Thanks to Ben and Friends for a fantastic Halloween party. A few choice snaps below of the auteurs of this site (snitched from my sis’s flickr - thanks Jess!):