As my senior project, I've decided to cover the life of trial reporters/journalists, along with attend a trial and figure out as much as I can about the legal aspect many journalists have to dive into.

Today was particularly difficult. The trial I originally chose was a murder case. Then it got changed to an assault with a deadly weapon case. But then it got changed again, and I'm stuck with what I have: sexual abuse of a child.

Growing up I had a friend named Chris and Chris has two sisters, one about two years younger than us and another about eight years younger than us. The youngest sister was 4 at the time she told her mother the next door neighbor had been inappropriately touching her. I was there when the family found out about it. And do know this family was like my second family: I spent at least as much time with them as I did at my own house. We grew up together. I was there when the youngest girl was brought home from the hospital after birth. We were connected and very close, the family and me.

This morning, I sat there and listened to a father, a 20-something, testify on how his daughter told him she was being inappropriately touched. Now, the father is only, maybe, four years older than me, and his testimony hit me pretty hard because it made me think of something I haven't thought of in a long time. And, also to know I'd like to be a father before I hit 30 and there are things like this happening day-in and day-out, it makes me so unsettled about a lot of things.

It just doesn't get any easier.

I've been at work since 9 a.m. It's now 9:54 a.m. and I'm done with work

I won't leave until 2 p.m. How will I spend my time? TCC + watching "School of Rock" + AIM + Lunchables and Sierra Mist Free.

Yums!

Can we help this home to survive?
We need the strength of our families' arms.
Not a false sense of solidarity.
Walk together and we could work this out.
Talk together and we could understand.
We need the strength of our families' arms.

This is one of my favorite pieces of art, ever.



Done by the artist known as Banksy on the West Bank barrier.

Is it ludicrous that I've got nothing to believe in that was built by human hands or controlled by demand?

So if love is true, let's burn the factory.

Take off your shoes it's time for dancin'.

I don't think it is, but these philosophers I'm studying certainly do.

One of them, Peter Singer, makes a sound case for why we shouldn't eat animals or even kill them. He claims that we should first break down what it means that all men are created equal. He asks us to question the validity of that statement — mentally-handicapped people are less capable at certain things than non-mentally-handicapped people; those who are paralyzed are less capable at things than those who aren't; men are better at math and science than women; men are faster than women, etc. (These statements are made not on particular cases, but on an average.)

Singer then asks us to consider animals — he claims an adult dog has a one-up on an infant human. So, even though we walk on two legs and some animals walk on four or have scales, doesn't mean we should participate in 'specieism.'

Singer then goes on to detail why we shouldn't eat meat. It comes down to a simple explanation — animals can suffer because they can feel pain and pleasure, thus, they're like humans. Humans are smart enough to know what's painful and pleasurable, and can avoid pain and strive for pleasure. Animals can do the same (if you have a dog, think about it.)

He argues that humans only eat meat because of the taste, which isn't a necessity to live. He says we're only trying to appeal to our palate when, in fact, we can get the same nutrients from vegetables, soy beans, etc. Furthermore, Singer also says we shouldn't kill or eat animals because of the conditions in which they are bred. If we want cheap meat, farmers need to cut costs on land, housing and the like. The more cows we can fit into a cramped space, the less expensive meat becomes.

And that's why we shouldn't kill or eat animals, according to Singer.

Interesting, but I love medium-rare moomoos too much. Sorry, Singer.

My dog isn't fixed, and the following might be my fault for wanting him to stay complete. In any case, get ready for some hilarity.

My dog jumped through my living room window to chase after, and fight, another dog in our yard. Yes, Boston (my dog) broke the glass. Yes, I have to repair it. Yes, my dog won the fight (the other dog ran off).

While, in a small way, I feel like a redneck father — chest-puffed out proud — I also want to beat the living hell out of him. But, as the experts say, disciplining a dog after the fact never works, I guess I'll just pet him and love him like always.

Jesus. If this is any indication of my life as a father, I better start buying booze now.

Sadly, this has nothing to do with the hobby.

I'm in an Introduction to Ethics course and it became clear to me tonight that I might be the only person in that room who's a diehard Protestant Calvinist. It will be interesting when my answer to unanswerable "Whys?" is "It's God's Will."

I know some will see it as a cop out, but no worries — I'm not supposed to have all the answers, nor do I care to question what my God wills me to do and believe in.

Tonight we talked about the origin of ethics and if people are naturally good and bad. First, the term natural causes a stir because it implies morals/ethics are natural things, of course, thus being applied to life from an unknown force. Second, I believe all people are born into sin, thus are naturally bad — it's the way it is, and I know many people in the class will drop their jaws at it, thinking of the poor, helpless babies born every second.

But the one thing I don't expect everyone in the class to understand, grasp or even be able to slightly wrap their mind around is God's Will. Those people would first have to believe in God; second, have an understanding of any religious belief structure; third, and at the very least, have an interest or idea about the nature of God.

Two weeks down, 14 more to go.

I really dislike ignorant people.