How does it know?

At work, there's a color copy machine with a sign above it that reads: "Please do not photocopy money of any kind. Doing so will disable this machine."

The reason for this feature is fairly obvious, of course, but the technology behind it is not. Is the machine really intelligent enough to discern the difference between a genuine dollar bill and, say, Monopoly money? Does it really apply to any kind of money? What about foreign bills? We're only about two hours south of the Canadian border here, so counterfeit Canadian currency might be almost as useful. Surely it can't recognize every major form of money used internationally. Was this feature implemented solely by the manufacturer of the copier, or was it done in collaboration with the U.S. government? It must have somehow been "trained" to detect all the subtle characteristics of paper and coin currency. Is the manufacturer a professional counterfeiter who wants to ward off competition?

This concept begs all kinds of questions, but perhaps the most prominent among them: In order to justify posting a sign warning of this machine's security feature, someone at some point must have made the mistake of attempting to copy money. Why, I ask, would anyone want to do that at my place of employment?

Who is familiar with this technology? Does your color copier have this capability?

A sad but real political situation

Last November, shortly after the Democrats were handed control of Congress through no accomplishment of their own, I published a blog post ("Initial thoughts on the election," Nov. 9) that included the following statement:

"It's clear that the Party of Ideas handed over [this election] on a silver plate; in recent years, those 'ideas' have gone from bad to worse. But I'm not sold on the Democrats, either. Until they agree on something and take principled (not political) stances, it's hard to say what can be accomplished between now and 2008."

As witnessed by current headlines, the concern I voiced at that time is precisely what has come to fruition in the six months since leadership changed on Capitol Hill. After mounting a remarkably weak opposition to George W. Bush's demand that he be presented with yet another blank check to fund the Iraq catastrophe, Democrats did exactly what was to be expected. They provided him a bill totally void of deadlines, benchmarks, or accountability. They effectively dumped billions more taxpayer dollars into a war of choice that has further ravaged an already-embattled region, galvanized global anti-American sentiment, and generally made the world a more dangerous place. In short, they collectively made a decision that was indeed political rather than principled.

I offer this critique not as a partisan opportunist -- no American political party is acceptable right now -- but as a citizen genuinely concerned about the welfare of our nation and this world. Sadly, it appears that the United States truly has reached the lowest political point in its history. When the executive branch of American government is an unmitigated disaster, and the legislative branch provides no control over that disaster, and the judicial branch is becoming nothing more than an extension of the executive branch, it's difficult to bestow any faith in America's once-ingenious governmental system of checks and balances.

Liquid gold...or expendable?

In my May 13 post, I made reference to the 1.1 billion people in developing countries around the world who have no access to clean, drinkable water, and how this contributes to an endless cycle of abject poverty and despair. It's amazing how a substance as basic as pure water is one that many people would kill to acquire -- and how this simple resource is also a simple solution to an astronomical problem.

I visited the Seattle Aquarium this past weekend with some friends from home. An exhibit there highlighted the Pacific Northwest's water origins and how their biggest threat is an increasing demand from a growing population. One statistic indicated that the state of Washington alone consumes 900 million gallons of water per day.

This isn't hard to believe, considering where that water goes. The showerhead in my bathroom says it's capable of passing 2.5 gallons per minute. Many people stand under that water for many minutes (yes, including myself) just because it feels good or because the shower is where they do all their personal grooming. Hundreds of coffee shops in Seattle alone use this same water source to stay in business each day. The patrons of those places consume even more water during frequent restroom breaks taken after quaffing the morning roast. I've talked at length with like-minded friends about possible means of reducing the environmental impacts of toilet flushing -- waterless urinals for men's facilities, half- and full-flush options on toilets as the need dictates, or even setting up bathwater to be recycled in the toilet tank. Of course, not everyone agrees with these proposals, but I personally look forward to the day where such ideas are standard rather than cutting edge.

In any case, with such examples of the importance of water, and how many people don't have access to it, I'm somewhat ashamed of how Americans like myself take it completely for granted. I don't ever walk away from the faucet fearing that the water I'm about to consume might kill me. Nor do I ever step into the shower worried that the water may run out before I'm done. That's the challenge I'd like to propose to myself and everyone reading this: consider these things, and take action. Pretend that clean water isn't a guarantee. Turn off the water in the shower while applying soap. Collect the excess in a bucket for other uses. Don't run a half-empty dishwasher. Don't wash your car when the rain might do it for you. And, yes: If it's yellow, let it mellow.

Lessons from Jerry Falwell

I don't wish to comment at great length on the passing of Jerry Falwell.* He created enough of a firestorm while he was still alive. But I'd be remiss to make no mention of the event at all.

It suffices to say that this man has always espoused an interpretation of the Christian faith vastly different from my own. It's quite difficult to speak of Falwell without betraying smug self-righteousness and hostility, particularly when this was the very attitude he exuded toward others whose personal beliefs were at variance with his own. In recognition of the fact that we share this flaw, I'll keep my remarks as concise as possible.

Ironically, one legacy clearly attributable to Falwell is the idea that God is way too huge to be reduced to a narrow, rigid set of morals or principles delineated by any human being. After all, Falwell devoted his life to depicting God exclusively in the framework he personally preferred -- with no room for doubt, or questions, or exploration. Yet I write this as another believer, questioning that very framework on the same day he passed away. If the Lord is as easy to comprehend -- and as small in scope -- as Falwell depicted, there would be no room for this debate.

*Photo credit: The Associated Press/CNN.com

Getting settled

This picture (courtesy of Misa Nakato) was taken at dusk along Puget Sound, roughly ten minutes from my apartment. There's a pier at the waterfront that is perfect for taking sunset shots like this one. The land in the background is Vashon Island, reachable by ferry from Seattle or Tacoma.

With my first (technically, second) week of work behind me, I feel like I've collected an immense volume of information and still have a way to go. My job with World Vision involves the planning and editing of a variety of Web-based content, chiefly the monthly e-mail newsletter, eNews, which is distributed to a wide and diverse audience of more than 850,000. You can join the mailing list simply by visiting the link above and providing your e-mail address. There's also a fair amount of design work involved in what I do; we have to gather the submitted articles and photos and build them into database templates that our Web pages use. I have no prior experience in creating links with tracking code, which is a big part of preparing our stories for publication, because they include a lot of links. On this blog, I'm used to simply attaching and uploading photos, whereas at work, the templates use code for that, too. In spite of all this new information to absorb, I'm confident that the job will become much easier with time. I've already learned a great deal.

Working for a humanitarian organization like World Vision has taken me out of the bubble in which I've lived for my whole life. Reading and reviewing stories about children in impoverished parts of the world really forces one to think about the luxuries we take for granted. A feature article in the summer edition of World Vision magazine talks about how more than one billion people in developing nations have no access to potable water. This staggering statistic is the source of a vicious cycle of poverty and hopelessness in places like Ghana. Here in the United States, people like myself never even consider the notion of water that could make us sick or kill us. We take it straight from the tap in our homes as often as we want -- unlike villagers in Africa, who walk for miles to reach a well filled with water containing animal feces and other parasites that could easily kill a small child. I don't even need to pay for water at my new place; it's included with the monthly rent. The disparity between these two worlds is unfathomable, but almost entirely untouched by the American media. And it's just one example of an unrecognized human-rights issue within a never-ending list.

If you're interested in reading more, feel free to check out the site. We update the latest news stories regularly.

When it's sunny and 73 in Seattle...

I snapped this photo today just outside the entrance to my apartment complex. Pictured at center is the massive, snowy summit of Mount Rainier. At 14,411 feet, it's the highest peak in the Cascade Range. The image, of course, doesn't begin to do it justice. Though it's at least 60 miles from where I stood, it looks as though it could be situated just down the street. (Click on the picture to enlarge it and get the best perspective.)

Work started today -- a huge amount of information to retain, but the best professional opportunity I've ever had. More details on this are forthcoming.

A new location and new lessons

After a road trip of 2,000 miles -- replete with a caged cat moaning death tones the entire way, and seemingly countless hours behind the wheel -- I made it to my new residence in the Seattle-Tacoma area of Washington state. Pictured are the grounds of the apartment complex. They're lush, beautiful, and serene.

The cross-country drive was simultaneously invigorating and exhausting. Luckily, I had a good friend along to offer support and company. We saw the pancake-flat fields of the upper Midwest; the stark Badlands and steep Black Hills of South Dakota; the vast, open, uninhabited expanses and rugged mountain ranges of Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho; and the snowcapped grandeur of the Cascade Range in Washington, with towering evergreen trees, alpine lakes, and gushing waterfalls. Then, we abruptly dropped into a valley where, with almost no warning, the Emerald City appeared in front of us. Perfectly visible across the blue waters of Puget Sound were the majestic peaks of the Olympic Mountains -- remarkable because, as those who've traveled to Seattle are aware, Olympic National Park is a rainforest whose high elevations are regularly obscured by thick clouds, even when it's a sunny day in the city.

I already miss terribly the friends, family, and familiarity of home, but I've already learned so much. Random bare patches on hillsides in western Montana, positioned right next to areas of thick forest and evidently the consequence of an irresponsible and zealous logging industry, reminded me of the dominion that humanity has over the natural environment with which we've been entrusted, and how quick we are to selfishly and needlessly exploit its beauty. My attempts to console my crying cat during the twelve-hour car rides -- and his refusal to stop imposing misery and hysteria on himself over what I knew to be a benign situation -- made me think that perhaps God views us the same way I viewed my cat during this week's travel. He loves us unconditionally, but probably wishes we wouldn't freak out so much over what He knows to be non-fatal circumstances in our lives that happen for a good reason. Finally, now that I'm genuinely on my own for arguably the first time in my life, I'm learning to apply that principle to myself. Instead of wracking myself with anxiety over issues like money, job performance, health, loneliness, and general self-sufficiency, I need to start trusting that there is a force for greater good in this universe, and none of us are without help in this scary world. (I've not perfected this skill yet. Far from it.)

Work starts Monday. The interim time will be used to work out details that come with moving half a continent away from home. More to come later. I miss you all.