My better side

And so here we are at Day 30. I should be distressed at my quick drop in position, but I'm more pleased that we met our overall goal, and I have to give admiration to Mr. Moore Ms. Lafferty for schooling us all. Nicely played, sir madam.

A final thanks to all who have donated. I hope that I have entertained over the course of 30 days -- and if not... well, I really don't need to know.

As a closing bit of frivolity, I offer you a small video exploration of the month. Enjoy.

After spending the last hour or so reading about wavelet compression, I feel the urge to begin a long post about signal theory, integer lifting, quantization and zero trees. Fortunately for you, it's late and the topic hasn't really settled in my mind yet. Maybe tomorrow -- so watch out!

As way of comparison, my beard continues to expand. Not quite as impressive as some, perhaps, but I'm quite pleased. Almost smug.

Which I suppose will make it all the more tragic when I destroy it in two days. I'm thinking arc welder, though perhaps a blowtorch will be a manly enough method.

Welcome to the Beard Zone

For today, let's dispense with the geek machismo and contemplate this: 12 individuals. 11 beards. One goal: $2500. Current total: $1,801.25.

That's about $700 remaining, or about $60 per person. If 24 people step up, pick a beard, and donate $30, we'll be there. So if you've enjoyed this little jape so far, ask yourself: have you donated? Is $30 really too much for supporting mammary health? I think not. There are 2 days remaining. Please donate.

And those that have already given, thank you. This beard is for you.

I practice unhinging my jaw for this moment

Today we celebrated the traditional day after Thanksgiving, also known as Leftovers Day. As the song goes, "we went back to the church, had another thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat, and didn't get up until the next morning, when we all had to go to court." Well, except for the church and the court part. And there was no garbage or shovels and rakes and implements of destruction. And no Officer Obie.

Here you see me engaging in the traditional closing activity of Leftovers Day, the Eating of the Pie. The pie in this case is lemon meringue, which is an occasional tradition of my family (as the secondary pie, after pumpkin -- it alternates with apple and mince). As you can see, it is delicious.

It also promotes beard growth, which will help me put the finishing touches on this bad boy.

Am I in the mood for evil... or pie?

The beard is on break today for National Stuffing and Pie Day.

There is apparently also some aspect of thanks required on this day. So thank you, all my sponsors. Especially the anonymous sponsor who pushed me over $200. So thank you, mysterious benefactor. And thank you as well, dear reader.

Mah lips! The beard's eaten mah lips!

A few random thoughts for the day, while I attempt to unweave the strands of lip hair that have tangled themselves together...

If a beard is a measure of a man's education, then I have nearly earned two post-graduate degrees -- which is appropriate. But lest we get too smug, I'll just point out that Newton had no beard. Nor did Hooke. Nor many in the Enlightenment. Also, note that Benjamin Harrison had quite the chin-devil, but wasn't known as a man of genius. So perhaps -- just perhaps -- there's no correlation.

Actually, that's only random thought I have, which is another mark against the "beard == intelligence" theory, Cmar's example aside.

Tall!

Today I'm feeling particularly tall. Perhaps it's my new shoes. I bought them at Gene Simmons's yard sale.

Oh yes, and the beard is still growing. Sorry about that. It's like a runaway locomotive at this point -- no stopping it.

So here it is Day 23, and it's only through the rapid fund-raising activities of my wife, of all people, that I realize that I've been doing it wrong all along. Here I thought the point was to grow the best beard possible, and at the top of the page it clearly states: How Not To Grow a Beard. Once again, I have failed to Read The Directions.

And so, my dear sponsors, I realize that I have been letting you down. I have not been not growing a beard. I have in fact, grown a luxurious growth of fuzz across both cheeks, chin and lip that any man (and some women!) would be proud of. All I can do is apologize, and hide my mandibular region in shame. And from here on out, I do promise that I will do my best to fail in the most glorious manner possible.

Deep thoughts... think deep thoughts...

One thing I just don't get is why certain people just don't take me seriously. Here I am, trying to do a good thing, raise some money for the good of (wo)mankind, and they just have to mock me.

Sometimes it's just not worth trying. Really. I tell you.

Beard status: doin' fine.

Sponsor status: running a little thin. Time to work on my Max Bialystock technique.

At least *one* of us is happy...

Here I am in all my bearded glory, with the fine artwork of one Angi Shearstone. If you've heard the War segment of Mur Lafferty's Heaven series, you may recognize the individual pictured: this is Prosper, God of the Harvest. Hm, hope he shows up around here next year -- our hops could use the help.

Anyway, as far as Angi, we'll be going to the Durham Artwalk tomorrow to see more of her artwork. Hope to you see you local folks there, and you can see the some other examples of her work here.

And of course, donations are still needed at this site. Please contribute if you can. Multi and various pectoral regions thank you.