The "Old Block" Tells All.

  Gamers are a special breed of talented human beings who are thoroughly misunderstood and unjustly maligned. The reasons for this misunderstanding are numerous and varied but are generally perpetuated by non-gamers who are driven by religious, social or cultural beliefs that spurn the  Intrinsic benefits of gaming. Due to preconceived notions and unfounded moral misgivings, the avid practitioners of video games "suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" both in the gaming world and IRL, (In Real Life). Non-gamers and other opponents of the video gaming world see this form of entertainment as non-productive, time-wasting recreation, with sedentary, fat-enhancing propensities that promote mindless, blood-thirsty killing, and provide zero benefits to the practitioner or society as a  whole. The truth is that many great gaming experiences, (the Diablo© series for example), draw their inspiration from the Holy Bible, which graphically depicts the horrors of warfare and

  Welcome to the wonderful world of The Old Block Church of Computing, where people and what they do with their computers take center stage. Join our little family of computer-conscious adults who love their binary friends. Sometimes it is a love-hate relationship, but when all is said and done, love wins out.   Computers and hand-held devices are meant to  make life easier for us humans, just like the revolutionary automobile has  done. Like  an automobile, a computer has basic components that are required to make it run  properly. The power supply determines the type and capacity of devices that can  be attached to the tower/case/chassis, which is the most visible and  utilitarian part of the computer. The power supply is the portion of the  computer that plugs into a wall or surge-protected power outlet and supplies  the power needed to run the motherboard and all of its attached or associated  peripheral devices. The  motherboard is key because it houses the CPU, (Central Pr

Look what came in my mailbox today! It must be a Christmas card from heaven! On the far left is the late L. O. Bruster-Smith, my mother, and on the far right, as you all know, is the late E. L. Bruster-Terrell, my grandmother! These are the most influential elder women in my short, but wonderful life! These two women instilled a diligent, steadfast, hard-working ethic in me since birth. (I fell out of the womb with a cotton sack on my back!) “If you want to eat, you got to work”, my grandmother would say. Mom broke it down a little gentler, but the message was clear, I was to become a human mule until my intellect matched or exceeded my physical strength, (that just happened yesterday, so I have been a mule for several decades). L.O. Bruster-Smith taught me to be a gentleman, “Never raise your hand to a woman, son. No matter what!” she would say. “Don’t cuss, don’t lie, and don’t steal!” she would add. “If you want something, work hard and you will get it someday.” I bought my firs

  If you have been living under a rock with your favorite crustacean, you have no idea what “Jail Bait” is, (good for you). The world has gone mad; (not the angry kind of mad; the crazy kind of mad)! Little girls are growing up way too fast and offering the world something they don’t even realize how to properly use yet, (like a baby with a hand grenade)! Is there something in the water? The air? The food? Is it the fault of the microwave industry, (faster; sooner; hotter)? Is it television and the promiscuous commercials and reality shows that are being aired? Can we blame it on the internet, (the information super highway?) Do these invisible beams of data and gamma/beta rays stimulate hormonal growth in our youth? And does this mental/physical transformation cause “early-onset maturity” in the youngsters of the planet? Is it “babies making babies” as in the lack of mature grandparents, (over fifty years old)? What can a 29-year-old grandparent teach their grandchild about the world

  What a stupid title! It is not a question, (although it does start with “why”). It is not a misspelled word, (although it should be “son”). However, there is no question that I love him, and have loved him since the day he was born. (And probably nine months before that too!) My son is the sun to me! He is my morning and my sunset, because he is the Chip that came from this Old Block, in more than just words. I never use the word “proud” when I speak or even think of my children, (as you know, “ Pride Goeth Before the Fall ”)! I simply say they make me happy! Anyone who knows the Old Block, remembers that he would not even date a girl unless she had babies already, because all my life I wanted to be called “Dad”! (I never had one, you know. At least not one that I met; only my BFAMs Dennis and Lewis had that privilege. Cliffy and I are still “in search of”.) So, I only brag about the pure joy they bring me, simply by being on the planet. There is nothing they ever have to do to earn

  True love costs everything and is usually more than any of us have to give. Your pride is bankrupt from the outset, and your skin thickens to ward off the danger of the awesome might of words that are haphazardly thrown your way by the one you love. And the one you love can always hurt you the most with those “ dangerously powerful creatures ” called words! If you are truly in love, his or her name is always on your lips like the kind of lipstick that does not wear off or smear, ever! When you hear his or her name, even in casual conversation from across a crowded room, your ears become highly sensitive satellite listening devices that hone in on every spoken word that follows that name. “What did they say about my Boo?” To touch or be touched by the one you love is electric and endearing; you never want it to end. A gentle supportive touch becomes a light massage; then a tender caress, until those same lips that called you something you did not want to hear, find their way to your n

  Shirttail tied at the waist, wearing a cool cowboy hat and modern destroyed “Daisy Dukes”, with a pair of calf-high cowgirl boots, she is the queen of the neo-western saloon! Watch her step and sashay to the upbeat country-western music laced with a Hip-Hop flair, swinging her ponytail from side to side singing and swaying with the hardcore heart-throbbing beat. This song was made just for her, and everyone clears out as if they were pierced by cactus thorns, giving her full reign of the dance floor. She was born to strut her stuff like a peacock in heat, and with her favorite song whaling away in the background, no one else exists in the whole wide world. With her eyes closed and her arms raised she surrenders to the lawman that arrested her with this captivating song! “OOH DOGGY”, she shouts, swiping some stranger’s beer right out of his hand as she floats by. “Thank you, Mister”, she says to herself. Every eye is gridlocked on this feisty filly as she continues her impromptu, solo

  Deep in the heavily wooded forest, a pretty little bird named Robin Redbreast, lived in the tallest pine tree, with her three little hatchlings, Betty, Bobby and Billy. With eyes wide-shut and mouths wide-open, they could be heard to say, “Chirp, Chirp, Squawk!” every morning when they woke up. “Chirp”, said Betty. “Good morning, Mother.” “Chirp”, said Bobby. “Good morning, Mother.” “Squawk”, said Billy. “I’m hungry, Mom!” Robin Redbreast had made a comfy little nest for her hatchlings, with seemingly no help from their father, who had flown off to see the world, before the hatchlings were even born. Robin did not care, though, because Betty, Bobby and Billy were all that mattered to her. And like all good moms, Robin protected her hatchlings from all two-legged and four-legged predators. (She was not worried about six-legged and eight-legged creatures because they would become a tasty meal if they ventured too close to her nest.) “Yummy”, she said at the thought of such multi-legged