Vox Unpopuli

open letters to Rockstar & the LGBTA community

2011-12-18T00:30:00.000-08:00

Dear Rockstar Games:

What's up? Long time player, first time complainer.

Seriously, though, I like you. Hell, when Grand Theft Auto 4 came out, I took week off from work so I wouldn't have any distractions. I've been a fan since I was playing the very first top-down GTA back in the dorms some *mumble* years ago. Your irreverence towards life is funny to me.

Anyway, when I finally got around to playing Bully, I was pretty pumped. This is the game that Jack Thompson got disbarred over. This is the game that you used to troll everyone, and I mean everyone--nobody had any idea what the game was like before it came out, and you filled us all with images of horrible high school violence ... only to give us a main character who, while kind of a punk, is actually a good kid, standing up for the bullied, et cetera. A little bit of a psychopath, yeah, but his heart's in the right place. Plus, this horrible teen sexuality that everyone was screaming about turned out to be ... kisses. And you even included the ability to kiss boys! You really won a lot of hearts in the LGBTA community with that one.

So ... here's my thing. All of a sudden, in, what, Chapter 4, there's some really disturbing sexuality in the game, and all at once. We're going to set aside the slut-shaming with Lola for the purposes of this letter, because while it made me a little bit uncomfortable, it was no more unrealistic than the images of fat nerds being stuffed in lockers, and the guy who throws that word around the most is one of the bad guys, who good Jimmy gets to beat up every so often. So, yeah, we'll ignore that for the moment.

We're going to ignore, too, that beast of a gym teacher hiring Jimmy to steal used underwear from the girl's dorm for him. That was ... really creepy, Rockstar, I won't lie. If this were a college game, a panty raid would be classic to the point of being cliché, and significantly less repulsive. But we're talking about, what, girls age 14-18? Maybe younger? There's never really a firm explanation of the age ranges at the school, but some of these kids are awfully short. Still, I realize you were probably going for the creepy gym teacher thing on purpose, and there's no actual violence being visited upon anyone ... so while that was really pretty gross, I'd be willing to overlook it ... except.

Except, see, for that mission where Jimmy becomes complicit in a rape. Oh, you don't remember that? That's funny, because you even set it up in the mission before. Let's see: First, he goes out and finds sedatives for the cook, then gives the sedatives to the cook, then the cook uses those sedatives to drug the chemistry teacher and haul said chemistry teacher into a nearby motel for a night of sex. I left out the genders of the characters there because in my opinion they're not relevant, but someone is probably going to tell me that since it was a female cook and a male teacher, that was just funny. Except, not so much.

Rockstar, you like to push the envelope. I'm hip. Hot Coffee was hilarious, and Hilary can bite me if she really disagrees. But even you, Rockstar, would not have given us a mission in which the protagonist of a game keeps people from disrupting the event where the ancient and repulsive male cook drugs the coffee of the hapless spinster chemistry teacher so he could rape her repeatedly in a sleazy motel, would you? I really don't think you would ... so why would you do the exact same thing with the genders reversed?

Not to talk about your competition, Rockstar, but one of the things I loved most about Fable 3 was the mission where one older horrible person--married to a young, monied, attractive spouse--dates you, then asks you to kill the younger person and marry them in their stead. The reason I love it is because the genders of the participants change based on your character's gender, but the dialogue stays exactly the same. The older woman comes across as manipulative and mean, but her (rich, attractive, young) husband seems weak. Conversely, the older man seems slimy and evil, while his (still rich, still attractive, still young) wife is somehow pure, perhaps naive, and utterly innocent of all wrongdoing. It's a powerful illustration of how switching gender roles, without changing any other variables, can change our perception of a situation.

... which I bring up to illustrate exactly what you've done: You've created a situation like that, where the action is utterly evil, and switched the traditional gender roles to make a crappy joke out of it.

It's still rape. It's rape, no "still" about it. You created a video game wherein a 15-year-old helps one party rape another.

That's pretty messed up, Rockstar. I don't love this about you. I don't know how I feel about you anymore.

You should think about this.

Quite sincerely,
Patrick

Dear LGBTA community:

Where the hell were you on this one when it was relevant? You played this game; don't tell me you didn't. GayGamer.net was all over this sucker when they found out you could kiss boys with your male character; it was big news at the time. This, not so much. Did nobody finish the game, or did nobody care? I've been operating under the assumption that gender issues and gay issues went hand in hand; that equality for gender identity and equality for sexual orientation were things we all wanted. You have a responsibility to point out something as egregious as this despite the minute catering to same-sex relationships--and let's not overlook that those are comprised entirely of, once you've completely humiliated an entire faction in the game, one of the members who happens to share your gender swapping spit with you. Please don't get bogged down by petty victories and allow something this dehumanizing is allowed to slip through. It's not going to do anyone any favors.

With respect (and some serious disappointment),
Patrick

because sometimes Chore Wars doesn't cut it

2011-12-13T10:10:00.000-08:00

WHEREIN it has been resolved that dishes shall be done by both parties on alternating days; and

WHEREIN it has been resolved that the party of the first part shall take responsibility for even-numbered days; and

WHEREIN it has been resolved that the party of the second part shall take responsibility for odd-numbered days; and

WHEREIN it has been observed on numerous occasions that both parties are giant nerds who like rules,

THEREFORE the following system shall be utilized for the purpose of motivating both parties to actually get off their asses and do the dishes.

"A day" shall be defined as the period of time from the initial rising of either party on a date for which they are responsible through their final return to bed for that activity cycle, midnights and the like be damned.
"Doing the dishes" shall be defined as washing enough dishes to fill the dish drainer completely, including the little plastic bits on the side that hold the drinking glasses, as well as hanging all serving utensils and that stupid collander on the hook thingie over the sink.
Should either party fail to do dishes on a day for which they are responsible, they are then one day "in debt" to the other party.
A party that is "in debt" to the other party takes that party's next turn at dishes. Should that turn be missed, another day is added to the debt. Therefore one day missed will result in two days in a row--the other party's turn and then the originally scheduled next turn. Two days missed will result in four days in a row--the originally scheduled next turn, the other party's for day one, the regularly scheduled next turn, the other party's for day two. This is intentionally designed to discourage either party from letting such debts build.
Exception shall be made for work/school requirements only in advance and only at the agreement of both parties; last-minute concerns only result in one day of debt so the busy party should just suck it up because life is hard. Should an exception be agreed upon, the consenting party agrees to wash dishes on behalf of the busy party, which results in one day of debt per turn taken. In other words, four days in a row would only result in two days of debt, since only two of the turns belonged to the party not doing dishes during that period; this will result later in four days in a row for the other party, so everything works out evenly and that's the whole point.
Exception shall also be made for multi-day injury or illness at the agreement of both parties. One-day layups, just like last-minute work/school concerns, only result in one day of debt and yadda yadda. Periods of illness or injury, upon the consent of both parties, are treated as scheduled lapses as per point 5.
Both parties agree this is all in good fun but neither particularly likes doing dishes so they have every intention of making the other stick to the agreement.
Each party further agrees that the other should really take out the garbage already, because damn.

Rhetoric: Why I love Elbow

2011-11-13T17:20:00.001-08:00

"Let me end this section by answering a possible objection: 'We must keep writing in its secondary role--as the medium for responding to reading--or else we will invite romantic solipsism. If you invite students to write out of their own experience rather than in response to texts, you will increase the rampant individualism our culture suffers from--permitting students to disappear into cocoons of solipsistic isolation.' This fear rests on a misguided model of individual development--a kind of parody of Freud and Piaget that says children start out as a egocentric monads dominated by selfish desires to stay separate and egocentric; and that they cannot become 'decentered' or social without a terrible struggle. It's as though we fear that our students are each in their own little bathroom and we must beat on the door and say, 'What are you doing in there? Why have you been in there so long with the door locked? Come on out and have some wholesome fun with us.'"

- Peter Elbow, "The War Between Reading and Writing, and How to End It." Rhetoric Review 12.1 (1993). (Italics his; boldface mine.)

an open letter to Gamefly

2011-11-08T08:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Gamefly,

I said some mean things about you recently, and I wanted to apologize.

See, once I found out you had a shipping station in Los Angeles, which is really just up the street from San Diego, I decided to give your service another try. We've had our differences, but hope springs eternal.

I signed up in the middle of the night, and you shipped my first two games the very next day. Furthermore, one of them is pretty new, and listed as only having medium availability. I got them both the day after that. I couldn't believe it.

I'll be honest, Gamefly, I thought it had to be a fluke. It was wild. I couldn't believe it. So you'll imagine my incredulity when it happened again: I shipped one out on a Saturday. You received it Monday. My next game came Tuesday.

Gamefly, you have redeemed yourself. I don't know if the moral of the story is that you work when I'm near a distribution center ... or if that whole kerfuffle with the post office really was holding you back like you were claiming, but I want to tip my hat to you. Well done.

I am sorry for doubting you.

Humbly,
Patrick

PS: Oh, Gamefly. Just one day before this was supposed to go live, you spontaneously decided not to ship me a new game even though you acknowledge that you received the one I sent in. And I sent it late Friday night, which means it went out first thing Saturday, which means it was in the first load you hauled in today. Which means you had all day to ship the next game, and you didn't. You make me sad, Gamefly. But you still work a damn sight better than you used to.

Edit 11/17/11: I spoke to Gamefly customer service a few days ago and found out the problem. Gamefly doesn't guarantee same day turnaround, but rather "within 24 hours of receipt." Which is actually not at all unreasonable in my opinion, and now that I'm aware of it I don't have any sort of problem with it. So I guess the moral is that transparency of policy is useful for your customers' satisfaction. On a side note, they apparently just shipped me the new Assassin's Creed game some two days after it came out, so they have endeared themselves to me greatly.

is our children learning

2011-11-03T08:00:00.000-07:00

From Report of the Massachusetts Board of Education, by Horace Mann

"In all nations, hardly excepting the most rude and barbarous, the future sovereign receives some training which is supposed to fit him for the exercise of the powers and duties of his anticipated station. Where, by force of law, the government devolves upon the heir while yet in a state of legal infancy, some regency, or other substitute, is appointed to act in his stead until his arrival at mature age; and, in the mean time, he is subjected to such a course of study and discipline as will tend to prepare him, according to the political theory of the time and the place, to assume the reins of authority at the appointed age. If in England, or in the most enlightened European monarchies, it would be a proof of restored barbarism to permit the future sovereign to grow up without any knowledge of his duties, -- and who can doubt that it would be such a proof? -- then, surely, it would not be less a proof of restored or of never-removed barbarism amongst us to empower any individual to use the elective franchise without preparing him for so momentous a trust."

backpack technology

2011-10-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

Now that I'm on a new campus where I don't have an office on either side to leave things in--and let me tell you, I rather miss that arrangement--I found myself hauling rather a lot of books around on a daily basis. Which, frankly, was not working for me. So I started digging around to see what I could find, and I came up with Ivar.

Considering the amount of money I dumped on the Pilot model, I wish I could report unreserved praise, but I'm only having so-so results. You'll see from the picture on the main page that it looks like there's two "shelves" inside the bag, plus the bottom. In practice, there is just one, then two pockets. Now, the bag is wider, which lets me put books and folders on their spine in the middle, thus distributing the weight and preventing them from flopping over. Small heavy books can go in the top shelving area. And then if there is something like a hoodie to go in, I can throw that in the exterior pocket which has all the slack. So it's a pretty good system. But it seems like the sort of thing that would work a lot better if it were just carried that one step further, you know?

There is one important note--if you're just moving quickly from one room to the next, tossing it over one shoulder tends to be very painful and not at all workable. Granted, complaining that an ergonomic backpack can't be worn incorrectly is kind of like complaining about the maneuverability of a minivan or the storage capacity of a sports car--either way, you're missing the point. But it does represent an inconvenience.

Still, it's functional enough, so I'll keep using it. Besides, I really enjoy it when some basic device that we've been using for centuries gets a sudden upgrade, so I'm glad to see someone rethinking backpacks at least a little bit.

a quick idea for a complete social overhaul

2011-10-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

So here's a modest proposal: You know how some countries have compulsory military service? We need compulsory crap jobs.

Obviously I have a biased perspective, but it seems to me that at 18, people mostly just aren't ready for college. Sure, some are, but most have no idea what they want to do with their lives and no concept of the future. Plus, we have a bunch of jobs that, let's be honest, most people don't want to do. You can sneer at my elitism all you want, but rare is the person who enjoys working at, say, McDonalds, and rarer still is one who relishes the idea of doing it forever.

So I propose that colleges as a whole stop taking anyone who doesn't have two years of full time employment in some godawful wage-slave job or another. Sure, there's going to need to be flexibility and a decision of what counts and what doesn't, but we can sort that out later. The point is, don't let 'em in to college until they get a real feel for what it is they hope to never have to do again so they can really appreciate the whole "college" thing. Plus, people who are inclined to settle in to some gig like that and never leave it have a head start! It's brilliant.

I suggest we start implementing this immediately.

holy crap, socks!

2011-10-19T08:00:00.000-07:00

I have big feet. And you know what that means: It's impossible to find cool socks in my size. I wear, depending on the style, somewhere between a 13.5 and 14.5, but always wide. Wide is the key; it means I can't cram myself into a 6-13 size sock. So I can get big socks in plain white cotton--sometimes--and I can get extremely expensive dress socks in black, grey, or beige. That's it, those are my options.

But I'm a dork. I want purple socks. I want socks in different colors so I can mismatch them. I want socks with insanely loud patterns! I WANT COOL SOCKS. For years, I thought I was completely out of luck.

Then ... Sam found them. At The Sock Shop. Mind you, I had to order the damn things all the way from England, but under the circumstances, I am pretty comfortable with it. There are all manner of socks to be had here, including bright colors, seriously ugly stripes, cartoon themes, and the Union Jack. (I got a pair of the Union Jack socks, of course. I couldn't resist.) They're all quality, and they go up through UK size 14, which apparently equates to US size 15. All I know is, they fit. Comfortably. And I will be buying all my socks from this store for the rest of time.

My fellow big footed men, your time for zany socks is at hand. Go forth and shop!

an open letter to Netflix

2011-10-14T08:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Netflix,

I've been a customer of yours for eight years. My first DVD, Fantastic Planet, shipped July 15, 2003. I still remember how I enjoyed the very concept of your service. It would be years before my crowd would drag their Luddite selves online and subscribe to services like yours, and I won't lie, I enjoyed being the one who could make obscure yet awesome films appear for our viewing pleasure. It was a brilliant idea, and I'm glad you did it.

I understand, also, that streaming content was always the point. I remember when Hastings said a few years ago, "That's why we named the company Netflix and not DVDs by Mail." I'm hip. I can't count the hours I've wiled away with Watch Instant, and the fact that I can sit down with my girlfriend who somehow missed the entire Star Trek thing and watch not only TNG but DS9 ... that really means something to me.

But Netflix, you have got to get your act together. Look, I won't lie, you didn't do yourself any favors with the price hike situation. I've seen your prices rise over the years, and I've been okay with it. This summer, though, they jumped. That wasn't a great idea. But I stuck with you, because I've been with your company for eight years, and I'm willing to cut you some slack.

Then the Qwikster announcement. That was rough. Seriously. It was also obviously not the long-term plan Hastings claimed it to be. Come on, you didn't even have the Twitter handle! You still don't have the Twitter handle! Was this ever something you actually planned to do? I'm a grad student, Netflix, and quite frankly I don't have time to watch DVDs. I keep my service with you mostly out of loyalty. As of that announcement, I was pretty much set to cancel the physical side of my account, except for one thing: The new site was supposed to have games. I've wanted you to have games for a long time. I was willing to stick it out a little more for that.

Then, just the other day, no Qwikster! Just like that, you changed your minds. Charming! And your announcement included absolutely zero mention of games. I called your customer service people and asked. I was told that you hadn't decided yet. You were "polling your customers." Well, that's great, Netflix. I guess it's pretty important to ask your customers if you should do what you said you were going to do, huh? I mean, one could argue that having already announced it, you'd be nuts to just suddenly change your mind without even a follow-up announcement ... but I think that would just be announcing the obvious.

You need to get your act together, Netflix. I don't know if this is a series of committee decisions, or if Hastings has just lost his damn mind, but you are hemorrhaging loyal customers and it's just going to get worse.

So here's the deal. After eight solid years with your company, this is the decision I've come to. You have until we finish Star Trek to get it together. If you haven't done something awesome by then to make up for the truly bizarre behavior you've been exhibiting, I'm going to have to find someone else to supply my media. And that pains me, Netflix, because I swore a decade ago that Blockbuster would never see another dime from me, but there aren't a lot of options. Hell, maybe I'm desperate enough to try Gamefly again; now that they've successfully demonstrated that you were getting unfair treatment in transit, their service might not be quite so execrable.

This is the choice I'm forced to make, Netflix: Blockbuster or Gamefly.

Please don't do this to me.

With love, respect, and more than a little concern,
Patrick

I am the real Astrig

2011-10-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

The other day I flashed back on a gaming experience I had a few years ago. Now, this isn't the first time I've flashed back on this experience, but it is the first time I've done so without cringing and quietly wishing ill fortune on my good friend Jason, who was also the gamemaster for that experience.

Now, you have to understand that Jason is, by nature, an evil son of a bitch, so it's not like this gaming experience was out of character for him (love you, Jay!), but I think even he was somewhat surprised by exactly how incredibly damaging it was.

First, you have to understand that this was one of our weekend retreats. It used to be that several of us would pile into the car and drive a few hours north (to the town, in fact, where I wound up doing my undergrad), where we'd hole up for the weekend in the house of some good friends, and we would game. Usually for the whole weekend. Without a break. Because we were insane.

So ... we found ourselves in a scenario where a group of 15th level adventurers were sent on a mission by ... I don't remember, some powerful NPC or another. It was a pickup, the adventure hook wasn't that crucial. The point is we had an interesting party mix: We were all good, but between the paladin, the druid, and the bard (yours truly), there was a bit of range regarding the way "good" should be implemented.

We were on a jungle island, and somehow we wound up being transported to some frostbitten hellhole or another. We were trapped inside a castle that had no obvious exits with a crazed necromancer who had some artifact that created simulacra that were all modeled after someone known only as "Astrig." Each of these creatures believed himself to be the real Astrig, and was not adverse to saying so. Now, the original Astrig was centuries dead, and may or may not have been intelligent, adept at knifeplay and/or gambling and/or sailing, but his copies were convinced they were all of those things and were, by and large, not.

Instead, they were cheerful, bumbling morons, who would occasionally get into brawls over which one was real, and all of whom were trying to be very helpful, and failing miserably. And they all hummed this weird little song.

Somewhere around the twenty hour mark, we all snapped a little. I don't remember when the paladin lost his faith, but I recall the bard using the haft of a magical spear to bludgeon one of the Astrigs until bits of ice chipped off. In the end, I think we killed the necromancer more for the sin of having created the situation than anything else. The Astrigs all fled through the windows at the top of the tower, which it turned out was buried deep in a glacier ... which means, in Jason's D&D world, they're still there, roaming around, unaging, unmelting, convinced that they are The Real Astrig.

I've seen PTSD, and I'm not trying to make light of it, but if there is a gamer's equivalent, he managed to give it to us all that weekend. Just saying the name "Astrig" is enough to make most of us leave a room. In fact, I have dim memories of hearing that name over and over, to the point where it didn't even have a sound anymore, it was just some amorphous threatening thought that I kept wanting to somehow spell with a Q. Ah, the memories.

So, since I can finally think about it without breaking out in cold sweats, I decided I should tip my hat to Jason. Because it was hateful. But it was brilliant. As I ease in to the role of GM myself, I can only hope that some day I can squick some players half as thoroughly.

Rhetoric: Hedging in Helen?

2011-09-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

As the semester progresses, I find myself occasionally struck with a flight of fancy inspired by my readings. Since my readings are, of course, rhetorical texts suited to graduate-level study, it might be more accurate to describe these flights of fancy as 'fits of curiosity into some nitpicky detail that may or may not be worthy of further exploration but probably isn't fleshed out enough to justify a paper all by itself.'

So I shall blog them. (What else would I do with them?)

The first of these leapt out at me while I was perusing The Encomium of Helen. Gorgias, of course, is a proto-rhetor (see Schiappa, 1995) of some repute; Plato detested him enough to name a dialogue after him. Most notably for the purposes of this consideration, Gorgias was a fan of wordplay. This is clearly evident in Helen; even after the translation to English one can find rather a lot of clever turns of phrase.

The Helen, of course, is Gorgias' speech which exonerates Helen of any guilt in that whole Trojan War business. Whether it is an effective speech is subject to debate, of course--after all, what if she was just kind of a ho?--but one specific detail leaps out at me.

(Helen, in case you don't remember, is the reputed daughter of the whole 'Leda and the swan' debacle, the most beautiful woman alive, who married Menelaus but was later promised to Paris (or perhaps Alexander) by Aphrodite, which resulted in an abduction (maybe) and a war (as the story goes).)

The quote that we're going to review here relies entirely on the Greek convention of chiasmus, which is the reversal of items for impact. The sentence in question is this: "Now that by nature and birth the woman who is the subject of this speech was preeminent among preeminent men and women, this is not unclear, not even to a few; for it is clear that Leda was her mother, while as a father she had in fact a god, though allegedly a mortal, the latter Tyndareus, the former Zeus; and of these the one seemed her father because he was, and the other was disproved because he was only said to be; and one was the greatest of men, the other lord of all."

If you follow that closely, you'll see that it switches back and forth. Let's try it again with italics and underlining: "... while as a father she had in fact a god, though allegedly a mortal, the latter Tyndareus, the former Zeus; and of these the one seemed her father because he was, and the other was disproved because he was only said to be; and one was the greatest of men, the other lord of all."

This is brilliant, though not at all uncommon for the time period. This was, in fact, a sufficiently common convention that Aristotle used it in arranging his treatment of the emotions in book two of the Rhetoric.

However, and herein lies my question, was it in any way sacrosanct? Because if someone could play fast and loose with it just a little bit, that someone could hedge magnificently on the divinity (or partial divinity) of a person, thus avoiding the choice between blasphemy and declaring a king a cuckold. Let's look at it one more time, but this time, we'll assume one clause might not follow the back-and-forth: "... while as a father she had in fact a god, though allegedly a mortal, the latter Tyndareus, the former Zeus; and of these the one seemed her father because he was, and the other was disproved because he was only said to be; and one was the greatest of men, the other lord of all."

I can't help but wonder if Gorgias, clever Gorgias who considered himself a brilliant speaker and was not at all afraid to utilize all manner of wordplay to convey his meaning(s), might have been equivocating just a little bit.

Pathfinder campaign setting

2011-09-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

Back on the subject of geekery, I've decided to discuss the Pathfinder setting as a whole rather than review individual books, largely because that would be too damn many posts that most of you wouldn't care about. So while I've included the cover of the primary setting book for those who need visual stimulation (beyond the presence of text, anyway), the following can also be taken as describing the minor supplements that flesh out specific portions of the world:

Holy crap this is good stuff. Seriously, kids, the primary setting book is 320 pages and every single sentence is an adventure hook of some kind. This world has every damn thing you could possibly want. Pirates? Sure, open sea or river-based? Devils ruling countries? We can do that, but would you rather be in the empire, or one of its lost colonies? You want magic-dead wastelands with clockwork creatures and firearms? Sure. You want nations where the undead are citizens? No problem. You want a freakin' crashed alien ship filled with advanced technology? Sure thing. A savage hyper-intelligent gorilla king? You got it. You want to bop around to other planets in the solar system? Great news, there's a series of magical gateways. It's all here, folks.

What I love most about this setting is the casual way horrific details are just tossed in as side notes. Like the troll augurs who divine with their own entrails. Or the severed head of a pretty young woman ... kept by a villain in his bedroom ... with recently re-done makeup to make it look not quite so dead. (Ewwwww! ... Brilliant!) This isn't a horror setting, unless you want it to be, but it is chock-full of ideas. It even has ideas quite literally buried under its ideas--every empire is built on the ruins of an empire before it, and those were quite possibly built on the ruins of ones before them.

How much do I like this setting? I'm picking up some of the game fiction, that's how much. Do I think it will be good? Well, let's just say I'm holding out hope. But even if it's as bad as that awful Fable book, I want it for its <i>ideas</i>.

I cannot wait to run my game in this world.

steal this idea for an alternate history

2011-09-19T08:00:00.000-07:00

In reviewing the rhetoric of the Declaration of Independence, I pointed out that while much of the document was aimed directly at the king, some towards the end discussed attempts on the part of the colonies to reconcile with their "British brethren." Which seemed like a good ass-covering technique, since they weren't simply calling the king and saying "Bite me," but were instead giving the letter to a man who would get on a horse and go to a ship and sail across the ocean, so if there were a change in leadership by the time the letter got there, God knows what might happen.

And then I hit me that this would be a great event for an alternate history. Since I'm not much for fiction these days, I present this idea to you with my blessings: Would would have happened if King George III had, say, choked tod eath on a pretzel while the Declaration of Independence was en route to Britain?

Enjoy.

Conjecture 2011

2011-09-14T13:32:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I attended Conjecture 2011, a local SF sort of event. Instead of just going and bumming around like I normally do at this sort of thing, I went as a panelist, which was a trip and a half. I got to pontificate on such topics as the academic study of popular culture, the Mardi Gras effect of 'convention space,' political systems in science fiction, the impact of sites like Google and Wikipedia on education, and rationality, morality, & sentience. While I freely admit that some of these panels were trainwrecks--and I'll even accept a fair share of the blame in at least one case--they were apparently all amusing trainwrecks, and even the ones that went as planned were enjoyed by those in the audience.

Based on the lovely bio they put together for me in the program book, some of you might have wandered over after seeing me there. If so, welcome! This is my primary active blog; the others mentioned in the bio aren't really up and running these days. (I take full responsibility for that; I was lazy and didn't fill out my bio because I was under the impression they would just write in something like "Patrick is a scruffy-looking nerfherder." Instead they did some research and put together some actual information on me, for which I am, in hindsight, quite grateful.)

Those just tuning in should note that my general update schedule during the semester is once every five days or so, and the subject matter is whatever the hell I want it to be. Comments are always welcome.

Conjecture next year (2012) is October 5th-7th, and the guest of honor is Patricia C. Wrede, which Sam tells me is a big deal, and I defer to her judgment in matters of fantasy because she's read a lot more of it than I have. I sincerely hope to be invited back as a panelist, and I look forward to seeing everyone again.

chronorage

2011-09-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

Today we will have a break in our regularly scheduled programming while I rant about something my parents got me for Christmas last year, the 365 Stupidest Things Ever Said Day Calendar.

I understand that stupid is in the eye of the beholder, and that when you're trying to assemble enough things to build a calendar you probably have to set the bar pretty low, but this calendar is repeatedly filled with the kind of nonsense that makes me thing the people who put it together were just grabbing frantically at random quotations by the end. In order to declare everything in this calendar "stupid," which I remind you these authors have done, you would have to (intentionally or through accident of birth (or perhaps motor vehicle)) possess a brutal ignorance of things like standard idiom, the concept of irony, the difficulties of translation, and the function of computers.

Yes, when Hillary Clinton referred to children who think 'work' is a four-letter word, an asininely literal interpretation could lead you to the misunderstanding that she thought it wasn't. Or, if you aren't a complete buffoon, perhaps you're familiar with the phrase "a four-letter word," which means "profanity." While this euphemism is somewhat archaic, I really don't believe it's entirely vanished from our cultural lexicon, and even if it has, anyone near my age or older should remember it anyway, and even if the authors of this calendar are in fact children (which might explain a lot), it seems to me that a little research would go a long way. Clinton's decision to use this particular euphemism was very likely deliberate, and the only error was in relying on her audience to have a clue, which she probably should have figured out years ago was not going to happen.

Yes, I understand that mistranslated signs can be funny. There are all manner of websites devoted to the concept of "Engrish," slogans and warnings that contain strange misunderstandings of the English language, and while I'm not a huge fan of the phenomenon, I can see the appeal. But complete gibberish mistranslations that are just random words, like the beach sign in Israel (I've long since tossed that page so I can't cite the specifics), while arguably stupid, aren't funny. Including them here isn't sharing some delightfully unintentional bon mot, it's making fun of people who don't speak our language very well. That's great, o mighty calendar authors, and I really hope you're natural polyglots, fluent in every language you ever need to use even in the slightest, because otherwise you're just pricks.

Now let's talk about the infamous Adobe updater message. I freely admit the phrasing is redundant, but what's happening here is that an update needs to be installed that the updater, in its current form, can't handle. So you have to update program A so it can update program B. Annoying? Perhaps. Poor design? Not in my opinion, but I'm sure some would disagree. Stupid? Not really, no. It serves a function.

Look, I get it. They can't all be winners. I understand. But we're talking about quotes. People. Saying stupid things. It's a no-brainer. Going to collect 365 dumbass things uttered by human beings throughout the whole of recorded history and having to resort to gibberish mistranslations? That's like when Kerry tried to call Bush stupid and wound up insulting every member of the armed forces. If you can't handle such a simple task, maybe it's not one you should be undertaking.

Summer Reading Quasi-Fail

2011-09-04T08:00:00.000-07:00

So ... remember that whole summer reading project? Well ... I didn't so much make it through that list, I'm afraid. On the other hand, I don't think it went too badly, because I did manage to pick up and finish off several nerdy books that weren't on the list originally--there will be a few more reviews of those coming in the near future.

Now, of course, grad school is starting, and having received the syllabi for all of my classes I'm prepared to tear out my non-existing hair as it is, so I'm unlikely to be stressing about recreational reading. Maybe I'll get to some of those ... but probably I won't. Oh well.

Meanwhile, stay tuned for a few backlogged posts from my summer followed by a lot of whining about academia! "Woot," as the kids say.

book report: x-treme dungeon mastery

2011-08-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

So. In the prior review of game materials, I mentioned that I had originally been trolling Amazon for a book recommended by a friend: X-treme Dungeon Mastery, by Tracy & Curtis Hickman. This is going to be a relatively mixed review, but I will note that their website currently has S. J. Tucker's "D&D" video right at the top, which endears them to me greatly. So ... good, then.

On the one hand, this book is written by Tracy Hickman, so there's no question about the credibility of the author. I mean, this guy's been gaming since been gaming, if you know what I mean, so even if one happens to disagree with almost every single thing he does or says, it's not like his opinion on the matter doesn't have merit.

On the other hand, this book presents one man's approach to gaming as The One True Way, which isn't necessarily what I look for in a game supplement. Frankly, there's infinite variety in GM styles, and while some of them work better than others, which is which is going to vary from player to player, and there's no one right answer.

On some hypothetical third hand, however, I think the authors were aware of that problem, which is part of why they buried the "do this and nothing else" in the absurdity of a secret society. (Well ... maybe it's absurd. These are nerds we're talking about, though ...)

Make no mistake, there is a lot of absurdity in this book. There's so much at the beginning that I was really reaching my limit; if they hadn't gotten down to brass tacks right when they did, I probably would have rolled my eyes and given up. But they did, so I didn't, which was good, because there is some useful information here.

Special mention should be made of the chapter dealing with Campbell's monomyth, using both Star Wars and Lord of the Rings to show how it really does apply to the stories we use. I'm not a literature nerd, so I don't claim to know whether it's accurate, but it is a useful treatment of story theory. By itself, though, it doesn't stand as a reason to buy the book.

All told, I feel like this is the sort of publication that's only really useful for lifestyle gamers who are settled. If you own a house, your weekly game session is your primary social outlet, you've been running the same campaign for years, you want to go above and beyond, and you have money and friends who can help set up, well, hey, go for it. To put it another way, if you already own a table from Geek Chic, this is the book for you. Otherwise it's mostly just a lot of pie-in-the-sky stuff that might be cool some day but you'll forget about it by the time you actually can make it happen.

book report: Gamemastering Secrets, 2nd Ed

2011-08-25T08:17:00.000-07:00

A friend recently pointed out an interesting book on the topping of running RPGs, and while I was browsing Amazon for it, I stumbled across Gamemastering Secrets, by Aaron Rosenberg. Which may seem like an awkward introduction to a book report, but the truth is I found this one a little more useful in concept than the other, considering my relative newbie status as a GM.

It's out of print, so the price you'll pay varies; I wouldn't recommend going much higher than $15. That said, if you're a relatively new GM, there is some very useful information in here. It's hard to condense such a treatment of such a broad topic into a single blog post, but I would say that the book provides a good overview of the GM process, then includes a lot of tips and tricks to pick and choose between. The first half or so is by the main author, and it breaks down everything you need to do; the latter half is a series of essays by various others who cover topics that are both interesting and boring, depending on your personal preferences. For instance, I skipped the entire ten-page article about map making, because I couldn't care less. On the other hand, the single page about the adventure flowchart was worth the price of admission for me.

Basically, the essays are the sorts of things you'd find on RPG forums, but pre-screened, which anyone who has ever spent any time on RPG forums can tell you is important, so you aren't wasting your life away sorting through crap.

The book isn't perfect, of course--they gratuitously overuse pull quotes to fill space, which is a technique I'm very conscious of having done so for several semesters in laying out the school paper. It also contains way too many Dork Tower strips. Some of which aren't even vaguely related to the content of the page they're on. One was repeated on the very next page in the very next spot, and my personal favorite was the one that wasn't finished; there was only the first half of the comic. So the editing could have been a little bit tighter too, I suppose.

Basically what I'm saying is this book isn't particularly polished, but it is worth a few bucks if you're in need of such a thing. If you've been at it for a while, though, this is probably not the book for you.

Microfiction: Dakota Smith & The Missing Maguffin

2011-08-20T08:32:00.000-07:00

The late fräulein's screams hadn't even finished echoing off the chamber walls before her bones crumbled to dust, falling in a pile with her generically oppressive military uniform and the gun she had so recently been pointing at me. She brought it on herself with a stupid request, really, and I would have been amused by the drama of the display, but then the stone head of the idol swiveled to regard me. The rubies of its eyes glittered, and that voice boomed in my mind once more.

"Choose your boon," it demanded.

"No thanks," I ventured. "I'm good."

There was a brief pause. It was the first evidence of any surprise that I had noticed during the conversation.

"You returned the missing item. A boon must be granted," the voice informed me.

"Really, I'm all set. I don't have any particular desire for anything I'm not capable of granting myself."

"All mortals crave something beyond their means," the voice boomed. Then, petulantly, it added, "Just pick something, already."

With a sigh, I gave in. "Okay, fine. Please give me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Crunchy peanut butter, strawberry jam, buttermilk bread."

There was another pause.

"Seriously?"

"Yes," I shouted, then reigned in my exasperation. "A PB&J on buttermilk. I can't get good buttermilk on this coast. So that's what I want. And it's technically beyond my grasp."

Another brief pause, then a sandwich appeared in my hand. It looked pretty good, but I wasn't hungry just then, so I slid it into a clean sample bag and placed it in my backpack.

"Aren't you even going to eat it?!"

"Just going to save it for later," I said cheerfully.

The door that had slammed close upon our entry slid open, grudgingly, and I walked out of the chamber, the booming grumble of an annoyed demigodling slowly fading behind me.

Boom: SDCC

2011-08-15T08:41:00.000-07:00

So, it's a bit late, but I would be remiss if I didn't mention my attendance at San Diego Comic-Con last month. I deeply enjoyed hanging out there, especially since I got to meet so many people that I, well, worship. (If you think that's too strong a word, you're wrong.)

Because I know a guy who knows a guy, I was incredibly lucky in that I got to get in a few minutes early for the Wednesday night madness. Pacing around the webcomic section of the exhibit hall, seeing (and recognizing by sight, which was actually kind of weird) so many webcomic artists, I actually had to sit down and collect myself a few times to keep from completely exploding with glee.

All of which means I got to chat with Randy Milholland for a few precious minutes before the floor was flooded by people. Intimidating though his beard might be, he turned out to be one of the nicest guys I've ever met. This wasn't a huge surprise, or anything, but I'd been a little nervous for two reasons: One, Something Positive is my very favorite webcomic and has been for most of a decade, so, y'know, meeting the guy that makes it is a little intense. Two, years and years ago, Mr. Milholland and I were arguing on a forum about the then-new D&D 3.5, which lead to the existence this strip.

To my intense delight, Mr. Milholland remembered both the argument and the strip with almost no prompting, and seemed as pleased to see me at his booth as I was to be there. In fact, the sketch that he created for me is Davan informing me, "Randy should be ashamed." Which I don't agree with, but it amuses me every time I look at it (which is every time I walk in to my room, since of course I framed it and put it on the wall).

Hanging next to it is a sketch of Jamie, drawn by (of course) Danielle Corsetto. I found myself very sad that Ms. Corsetto started hanging out at my favorite bar immediately after I moved out of Rochester, so it was nice to finally encounter her. The sketch is personalized to Sam, because she wasn't able to attend.

Unfortunately, when I got a sketch of Hannelore, no personalization was offered. Now, it should be noted that Jeff Jacques (as the story goes) had to start charging for sketches simply because he pulled a tendon in his hand trying to keep up with demand at a prior event. Which only seems to screen out the rabble; he still does a lot of sketches. Also, I didn't make it to his booth until Saturday evening, by which time he was no doubt exhausted. That being said, when I asked for Hannelore he whipped out a stock pose in a few seconds, slapped his signature on it, and had it in the air waiting for me to take it before I had a chance to react--which was impressive, but it also made me feel like asking for a personalization would have both annoyed him and been pointless.

I am not saying I didn't get a fair product for my money, nor am I one of those lunatics who claims the money was inappropriate--I happily paid twice his fee for Ms. Corsetto's sketch, after all--but I won't lie, the interaction was kind of disappointing. If I have occasion to visit him at such an event again, I'll try to get to him a lot earlier and see how that works out.

Finally, I wish to note that I get great amusement from being mistaken for Jerry Holkins. This happened at PAX East, which made a certain amount of sense since I was working the Penny Arcade merchandise booth. It happened again at SDCC: Wednesday night, when I was just hovering near the booth, and Saturday evening at the Kurtz panel, because I was sitting next to Mike Krahulik. Jerry himself seems to get a kick out of it, so I guess there's no harm, but while I concede "bald white guy" lets your mind ignore a lot of details, we really don't look that much alike.

Oh! Wait, one other thing: Jennie Breeden's boots really are actually even more badass in real life.

book report: Machine of Death

2011-08-10T14:35:00.000-07:00

So, a while back, Malki! of Wondermark fame announced that he was publishing a book called Machine of Death. The premise is very simple: There is a machine that predicts the way people die with utter certainty and a hefty sense of irony. So "old age" might mean old age, or it might mean being killed by a 90-year-old who's asleep at the wheel.

The book is massive, weighing in around 450 pages, and contains no less than 34 stories. This is great, because at an average of 13-odd pages, the stories are mostly just quick brain candy. They tend to be well-written, dark (of course), and thought-provoking. I enjoyed reading several in a sitting, then breaking for a while, but your mileage may vary.

My only complaint is that the story by Malki! himself contains not one but two glaring typos, which were the only ones I spotted throughout the entire book. It's a really weird place for the editors to fall down--after all, he is one of the editors. But there were two others, so I don't know how it slipped through. Not a deal-breaker--and please note, I really enjoyed Malki!'s story--but odd.

At any rate, the collection is quality, and I don't think you'd regret picking it up. I hear the Kindle version is kind of popular? This might be well suited to such a medium.

get the hell off my hood

2011-08-05T12:59:00.000-07:00

There is one thing I don't like about San Diego, though, and that is the traffic lights.

Actually the traffic experience in general isn't that great. California drivers are not my favorite. On the whole, they remind me of Seattle drivers with lead feet. Which I guess isn't that bad--at least they're not D.C. drivers!--but it still fills me with occasional road rage.

But my biggest complaint is the lights. Listen, I'm not a city planner, nor am I an engineer. I understand that sometimes you need lights to do different things. But there are a number of streets that I've driven down in this fine city which are clearly meant to be through streets--like El Cajon, or University, or some of the 50-MPH roads that go out into the 'burbs--where you have to stop at every. Single. Light.

Not even like it just hasn't turned green yet, or traffic is still mobilizing. But rather each turns red just as I get to them. I accelerate at a reasonable rate, and in general I reach the speed limit just in time to see the light go yellow. This happens over and over for miles, and has happened on multiple occasions, at several different times of day.

This isn't bad luck, people, this is bad planning. Lights should reward people for keeping traffic going at a brisk rate without speeding. Lights should be turning green as you get to them, not red. On major streets, three or four lanes in each direction, especially the ones where you're expected to be going 45 or more, the lights should encourage traffic flow, not discourage it.

I guess what I'm saying is that I'd like to smack the idiots who designed these intersections.

Microfiction: Oversleeping

2011-07-31T09:58:00.000-07:00

So there I am, trying to sleep, and suddenly I realize that this little whatever-it-is has fully formed in my brain. Which doesn't happen often, so I got out of bed and wrote it down. I don't know what to make of it, to be perfectly honest, but I present it here because ... well, why not?

--

Troy Williams picked the worst possible time to wake up.

This is not to imply that he was not awake during the beginning of the crash procedures, nor was a nap the cause of his current plight. The mechanical failure that was causing his single-prop to plummet was not the result of any immediate negligence on his part, though he ruefully acknowledged, in his suddenly-enlightened state, that he might have paid a little more attention to the maintenance of a thing that could take down a Kennedy as readily as it would destroy the McMansion growing steadily larger beneath him.

Instead, as the engine coughed and his hands kicked in to autopilot, he found himself laughing at the irony of "autopilot." With a suddenness that would have stunned him into inaction, were he not so very busy, he gained a touch of perspective on his life that had always been lacking.

Reflecting with necessary alacrity, he found himself considering the string of failed relationships and the overall pattern of his drinking habits, contrasting them to the actual behavior of others--to say nothing of societal ideals--in ways he had never realized were possible.

With lightning-fast leaps of logic and intuition, he suddenly realized that his life was his own to control, and in all things, there was no one to blame but himself.

As he began to be able to pick out the individuals cars parked on the street in front of his apparent destination, he considered the timing of this sudden revelation of the nature of the universe, and wryly concluded that it was symptomatic of his overall tendency to realize obvious truths just a little too late.

The crash made the evening news in neighboring counties, but no further. As the demolished house was recently foreclosed, and no drug use was suspected, the story was blurbed in passing and gone by the next news cycle.

enforced socialization

2011-07-26T11:04:00.000-07:00

Another strange thing about living in San Diego is that ... how can I put this? People here seem to enjoy talking to each other. This is not the case where I am from.

I noticed it as I traveled across the country, starting somewhere around the midwest--people just started being friendly with me. In New York, you're expected on occasion to make small talk with, say, a clerk ringing you out at the store. But if neither party talks, that's not necessarily a bad thing. From about Illinois west, I've been expected to have an actual conversation with anyone operating a cash register.

But it doesn't stop there. People on the street will randomly talk to each other. Instead of the awkward nod or completely stoneface of New York, complete strangers will greet each other as they pass on the street. People waiting for a bus or in line at a store will have complete conversations. Sometimes about the weather or similar topics of small talk, but sometimes about actual events in the world, or in one's life. Also, finding out that we've just arrived in San Diego always nets some good-natured advice about the city, usually including sights to see or obscure shops to check out. Sitting in the laundromat, complete strangers actually invite each other to debate on current events!

The strangest part to my awkward introverted self is that, contrary to all conceivability, I actually like it. I am becoming friendlier. I am better at talking to people just in the short time that I've been here. My small talk is improving, my smile is no longer quite so awkwardly fake, and I actually seem to enjoy the presence of other people.

Like, the other day, Sam and I were in the grocery store, going back and forth about which kind of jam to buy in our typical Abbott & Costello fashion. As we left the aisle, I realized that there was someone a few shelves down the row who was being amused by us (in a non-judgmental way). This, in turn, made me happy, and left me smiling randomly as we moved on--a facial expression so weird on me that Sam had to ask what the hell was going on.

I think I might be going native, people. Next thing you know, I'll stop using turn signals and forget what snow looks like.

another day in paradise

2011-07-21T08:57:00.000-07:00

Here in San Diego, people like to talk to each other. (This is weird in and of itself for someone from the Empire State, but more on that later.) One thing I have noticed, however, is that when small talk is being made, if a person is asked how they're doing and their day is normal and perhaps kind of blah, they don't respond in any way I've ever seen before. Normally I'd expect a response like "meh," or the more verbose "same old, same old," or perhaps even the irreverent "SSDD."

Instead, the stock response here seems to be, "Eh, you know. Another day in paradise."

I'm starting to think these people are on to something. Since I got here, I have not seen a single drop of rain. I think there was a bit overnight at one point, but it was long gone before I got up. The weather has been warm, and is getting warmer, but it hasn't at any point been what I would call "too warm." Even if it gets a little stuffy in my apartment, since I have to close the bedroom door (and block the awesome cross-breeze) for work, just stepping out on to my balcony results in a nice cooling effect, even when the sun is beating straight down.

Oh, and the sun! The sun! What's this about?! When I get up in the morning, I actually enjoy opening my blinds. I want the sun to come in. I like the feeling of it. It makes me want to do things outside. I'm craving a nice morning sitting on the beach with a book. With a nice big sun umbrella overhead, to be certain, but still.

This is strange beyond all comprehension. To date, I have always loathed the outdoors and everything that comes with it, to say nothing of sunlight! I think I'm going native, and fast.

Although, I won't lie, I could really use a nice thunderstorm some time soon, especially on a day when I don't have anywhere to go and I can just sit in my living room and watch it come down. But I can wait.

pretty privilege

2011-07-16T13:10:00.000-07:00

In this country, we have a widely acknowledged class system. Supposedly, it's just an informal recognition of varying income levels, and allows for mobility in both directions. Certainly, nobody considers it a caste system; that notion would seem barbaric to your average U.S. citizen.

But we have one of those, too.

There exists, in this culture--and others, I assume, though I cannot vouch--a continuum of attractiveness, often expressed in a scale of 1 to 10 (N.B. Hot or Not). But somewhere in the upper echelons of that scale, there's a chunk of people who seem somehow divorced from the rest. The exact group of people that make up this group varies depending on who you ask, but everybody has a list. Lily Cole or Christina Hendricks, perhaps. Katy Perry, if that's your thing. Mark Frankel, if you ask my mother. I don't know. Johnny Depp, or a young Brad Pitt, it's not important. You know who I mean.

I list these people not as actual people, but as archetypes, because someone will invariably argue that they never actually look "like that" in real life. But in real life, there are people who look "like that," except even better, because they're real, and not airbrushed on a screen. And we--which is to say, everyone else--have some weird visceral reaction to it, summarized best by my friend Allison's recent comment: "If that is a human female," she said, "then I am neither."

I've written about this before, and I'll probably do so again, because as someone who is not and never will be a member of that caste, I find this frustrating.

The thing is, I'm not exempt from this. I do it too. The best I've accomplished over the years is to look for flaws I can't tolerate in people who rate really high on the aforementioned scale, and as soon as I find one, roll my eyes and feel mentally and/or morally superior while resenting the advantages they get. Which isn't an answer, it's just discrimination of another sort. ('Reverse' lookism, perhaps?) Besides which, I'm as fawning and useless as anyone else when I stumble across someone with looks and personality and intellect.

Furthermore, I see myself doing this in other aspects of my life. My 'type,' as it were, does not correspond to the mainstream understanding of beauty. Which makes it that much easier for me to not notice the impact that physical attraction has on my behavior. Recently, we were at an event (I'm being intentionally vague here), speaking with a couple. I found the female charmingly awkward and the male quite irritating. Later, Sam told me that she found them both equally offensive, but pointed out that the female, being very much my 'type,' was obviously someone I was less inclined to be annoyed by. Reflecting on the conversation, I realized she was completely correct--under different circumstances I would have found this woman incredibly off-putting.

This isn't the first time I've seen this happen, either. I am reminded of someone I worked with in a professional capacity, who I found quite irksome (a sensation that was reciprocated). While I certainly wouldn't have rated her as unattractive, I considered her neither "my type" nor in that fabled upper echelon, so I went about my life judging her on the merits of our interactions. Then a third party, creeping her Facebook, took it upon himself to show me a photograph she had posted, alluringly posed and displaying massive quantities of ink that I would never have guessed at. (I am a sucker for the 'lots of tattoos' thing ... and I am not alone in having a fondness in my heart for the MySpace Angle.)

To my horror, I found my behavior towards her changing. Her points now seemed more valid. Our interactions softened, to the point where I would call us friendly acquaintances--we didn't precisely become friends, but we chatted when we saw each other. Part of my brain (as it were) argues that I was just being irrational before, because clearly her ideas have merit, and since we get along, maybe we didn't even mutually dislike each other, and I was just being a jerk. (This is not, after all, outside the realm of possibility.)

But how can I know? Those conclusions are inherently suspect. I will never be comfortable with my assessment of her, because I will never know if I'm actually evaluating her ideas or personality fairly. Something so basic and easy to determine as 'whether or not I agree' is forever muddled by this event.

I hate this about myself. Truly. It's ... shallow. Miserably, pathetically shallow. The fact that it's exceedingly common behavior among my fellow humans is neither comfort nor excuse.

So I want to try to change my behavior. The question: How on earth do I go about doing that? I'm reminded of that episode of House where he had to keep checking with Foreman to see if the new hire's ideas made any sense. This is the sort of thing you almost certainly need outside perspective to monitor.

Step one, of course, is to verbalize the goal: I shall attempt to minimize the way appearance influences my opinion of personality and intellect. I say "minimize" because I'm a realist; I'm not going to stop wearing my glasses in public and a lot of this is built in to my biology. Further, to some extent appearance is important, because it tells you a lot about what the subject chose (or did not/could not choose) to present about themselves. But I'm good with this wording.

Step two ... I have no idea what step two might be. Anyone have any thoughts?

effective advertising

2011-07-11T10:40:00.000-07:00

I was driving down the street the other day and I saw a sign on the side of a bus stop that simply said, "Just freakin' try it already! Sophie 103.7"

Being new to San Diego, I hadn't really settled on a default radio station yet, so I just freakin' tried it. And I liked it. So now it's my default.

I don't know who came up with that slogan, or put together such a brilliantly simple poster, but I hope they got a raise, because that is excellent advertising.

book report: Pathfinder Core Book

2011-07-06T10:59:00.000-07:00

As some of you may know, towards the end of last semester I started to get back in to some roleplaying. I wound up running a 3.5 game (thanks to the original GM's TPK, very smooth there Jason), and it was a lot of fun. Because I've long since misplaced or given away my own 3.5 books, I started poking around on Amazon to see if maybe I should replace them, because I found that I really wanted at least the PHB and the DMG in my possession. The prices were high enough that purchasing the Pathfinder Core Book, even with its hefty price tag, was the more cost-effective solution. So I went for it.

I've been perusing it for some time now, and last weekend I finally got to play a little combat demo at the SD D&D Meetup, and I think I really like it. What's more, for some strange reason, it really makes me want to run a little campaign. I've run a few games in my time and I don't know that I'd say I particularly love it. But Pathfinder really makes me want to draw maps on a big rubber grid covered with minis, and try my hardest to kill off the players (without actually succeeding, Jason).

So I guess that's a job well done on Paizo's part, no? I think I need to pick up another book or two ...

local flavor

2011-07-01T16:31:00.000-07:00

Having settled in to the Normal Heights region of San Diego, I thought it might be interesting to try out the local Taste of Adams festival. It's one of the standard sorts--you buy tickets & get samples from a few dozen local restaurants--and it seemed like a good way to get to know some local places that I'd enjoy. I had some grand idea of blogging the entire experience, but I don't see any reason to bore y'all with several reports of mediocrity, so I'll just cover the highlights.

The Good

Viva Pops!, 3330 Adams: All the samples were little frozen popsicles in some interesting combinations; I had an excellent chocolate banana and Sam really enjoyed the lavender lemonade. Definitely going back here.
Twiggs Bakery, 2804 Adams: Oh my God, I so want every cake these people have ever made. The mexican chocolate sample was delicious and spicy and the ... what, white velvet, I think? Fantastic. There will be many visits here.
El Zarape, 3201 Adams: I tried the Park Blvd location and I didn't love it, because they went so far overboard with the cilantro that I couldn't stand it. The sample fajitas at this location, however, were delightful and cilantro-free, which gives me hope for the rest of the menu.
Thai Joint, 3381 Adams: Based on the sample I would describe this as Indian-influence Thai, which is a fairly redundant statement anyway, but the sample was delightful and this place apparently delivers. Hell yes.
Bleu Boheme, 4090 Adams: I tried escargot and I didn't hate it. What is the world coming to?

The Bad

TAO, 3332 Adams: Dude, the point of this is to show me what you've got. Nasty rubbery chicken served on nasty rubbery rice isn't going to get you anywhere.
Farmhouse Cafe, 2121 Adams Ave: Similarly, serving a potato pancake topped with salmon pastrami isn't probably going to win you a huge crowd, especially topped with what I assume were actual flowers. Look, maybe some people like that, in which case you should certainly have it on the menu, but I doubt there's going to be a wide appeal there. I heard a number of people making fun of it, so this isn't just me talking.
Kensington Cafe, 4141 Adams: I know I have different expectations of pizza, being from a different region of the country, but if your dough tastes like burnt toast, I think that's something both coasts can get together on disliking.
Burger Lounge, 4116 Adams: Running out of samples at an event with a finite number of tickets is asinine and guarantees people who paid for merchandise you will not provide will never return to your restaurant.
Proprietor's Reserve, 4711 34th: See Burger Lounge.

The Ugly

Air Conditioned Lounge, 4763 30th: Oh, dear lord, no. The decision to slap together a Crock-Pot of "chili" so they could include themselves on this tour was a strange one, to say the least, and the only word that comes to mind when I think of this place is "dive." Pass.

Greetings from Hyrule

2011-06-26T17:40:00.000-07:00

At Sam's insistence, I have begun playing Legend of Zelda. Aside from a few stolen minutes with the NES version at my cousin's house when I was very young, and a few frustrating hours on the Game Boy version before I gave up in lieu of throwing it at a wall, I never really got in to Zelda. Since I barely remember either of those, I am essentially a total noob.

Since there's now a GameCube in my living room, I've been started on Twilight Princess. I have been told that while this is not the most user-friendly, it has the most obvious first dungeon (which makes it a good intro to Zelda-style puzzles) and it has the most recent graphics of any of the games currently piled next to the system.

I'm only about five hours in to the game, but this is a fairly iconic franchise, and there are some interesting things that pop out at me. First, I can see how this sort of thing is very much the root of many others. Fable springs to mind, although obviously the interpretation is very different (for instance, the welcome absence of user-controlled flatulence in Zelda). It's an experience not unlike when I finally watched the first Lord of the Rings movie, and I saw the common thread linking damn near every swords & sorcery setting (to say nothing of Babylon 5).

The game itself is fun, although frustrating in some ways. I keep rolling in to doors that I tried to open because I hit the button as I approach, instead of after I actually make contact. Of course, that might just be a console generation issue. What I can't stand is this guide popping out of my shadow and solving puzzles for me. I like when I was trying to open the windmill gate and I missed the pattern on the floor, and after a few failed attempts she pointed out that I was overlooking something. But the game has a tendency to present you with a solution, then with the problem it's for--most of these puzzles aren't what I'd call complex, at least so far. So I don't need this damn thing nagging me all the time like a weird little demon-shaped Clippy.

You know, for some reason I assumed I'd be bad at this. Back in my youth, I somehow got the idea that I was bad at computer RPGs and puzzle games. But this is clearly not the case.

So, we'll see how it goes. I'm sure I'll have more to say once I finish this game. And since I'm already hating on the nagging in this one, I'm sure I'll be livid once I start hearing Navi's voice every fifteen seconds.

With one notable exception, of course.

Weird Al at the county fair

2011-06-21T14:31:00.000-07:00

I can't seem to get myself out of the 'newspaper reporter' mode, so I'm going to give you a concert review because I can't get it out of my mind. A week or two ago, I went to the San Diego County Fair to see Weird Al play the grandstand.

First, for those of you in or near SD who haven't been to the fair for whatever reason, I'm going to say it might be worth a shot. If you like fairs, it's pretty neat: All the fried foods you could ever want (why is fried butter a thing?), lots of booths to gawk at, pig races (I kid you not), livestock shows, and of course, rides that are absurdly expensive unless you bought the unlimited access pass.

If that sounds too redneck for you, keep in mind that I'm an unrepentant city boy, and I still enjoyed it.

The thing is, the Weird Al concert was actually not all that great. Part of the problem is that we were way up top in the grandstand, which was intentional--we wandered in late because we didn't care. Unfortunately, we weren't expecting to need to see the video screen behind the stage, because we got a good view of the stage, and all the lighting works were blocking the screen. This would be great for most bands, I think, but (and here's where I start to get annoyed), I'd say fully half the concert event was pre-recorded.

I realize Weird Al likes to do costume changes, and the costuming was fairly elaborate, but in between every song there was 2-5 minutes of Al TV sketches, most of which I'd seen before, most of which I couldn't see this time because of the angle. I wasn't there to watch video, you know? I was there to watch Weird Al perform.

Additionally, it turns out that if you can't make out the words of the song he's singing, he turns in to a mediocre cover band. So when he did his classics, it was great, because I knew all the words and could sing along. But when he did his new stuff, between the speakers and the noise of the crowd, I really couldn't figure out most of the lyrics.

Long story short, I think my conclusion is that Weird Al is better enjoyed in studio recordings, unless one happens to be the kind of fanatic who knows every word to every song. Since I am not, I was generally disappointed--we wound up leaving the concert early.

One final note: Dude stole a joke from an episode of Full House! Remember when Uncle Jessie was writing songs and he sold one to this rock group that didn't want it and they introduced it to the crowd this way: "Are you ready to rock? Are you READY to ROCK? Well too bad, this next song is a ballad." Then the crowd rioted and the agent runs up and screams, "Bite the head off a bat!" Yeah! He did that joke! Well, without the bat part.

I'm not telling you this out of a sense of moral outrage--the show's been off the air more than half my life and for all I know he wrote the joke in the first place--but I was fascinated by that weird little connection and I wanted to share it.

And no, I'm not proud that I remember episodes of Full House that clearly.

book report: master

2011-06-18T08:13:00.000-07:00

Towards the end of last semester, the owners/managers of a BDSM chateau in Albany came to SUNY Potsdam to do a presentation. One of them had with him copies of his book, Master: The Unauthorized Autobiography of Master R (NSFW). I picked one up because the presentation was interesting, as were the presenters, and I like to read.

At the outset, let me say that one day, when I am elected king of the world and write my memoirs, I had intended upon calling them an unauthorized autobiography. So I am slightly miffed that my joke was taken. But I suppose that's fair, since my own memoirs likely won't be written for some decades now; that election is going to take me a while to rig, after all. Still.

The book itself is a sort of stream-of-consciousness thing. Part of it is memoir, the author reflecting on his life, while the rest consists of reflections on the chateau and BDSM lifestyle in general. I guess I would describe it like this: The author has some really interesting things to say. On the whole, I found the book interesting and worth the read. However.

See, the thing is, I'm a snob. I admit this freely. I'm an academic writer, and while I certainly don't insist that everything I read be academic writing, there's a certain set of things I look for. Make no mistake, when reading the autobiography of someone who is not a professional writer, I'm not going to expect it to be written by a professional writer. (In fact I'd rather it wasn't; because that means it wasn't ghosted.) And in this case, the author has a pretty good way with words; he's no slouch when it comes to expressing himself. But I feel it's the job of the editor(s) to kind of corral a non-writer author's instinct to invent words and use weird sentence structures, which doesn't appear to have happened in this case.

I'm talking in circles because I've met (and liked) the author and don't want to come off as insulting his book. Let me cut straight to it: The content is quality. There's no question about that. This guy has some very interesting things to say, and I enjoyed reading them. The book itself, however, is not (in my admittedly snobbish opinion) a finished work. Now, it seems to be a self-print, so right on, and the author gets to make the rules. But I think there's potential here for release from a niche-but-well-established printing house, given certain tweaks, and I'd like to see that happen some day.

(I'd also be interesting in working on the project. No kidding, big guy, you have my number, just let me know.)

So, long story short (too late!), should you acquire this book? If you have any interest in any of the subject matter noted above, I say yes. It can be ordered at the link above, or if you're in school anywhere near Albany, you should get the author to come speak at your school, or attend one of his presentations in the city, and snag your copy there.

book report: the girl who couldn't come

2011-06-13T22:56:00.000-07:00

So Joey Comeau, one of the people behind a softer world, posted recently that he had a book of coming out that was comprised of short, weird erotica. Since asw is always brief, and always weird, and usually poignant in a way that appeals to many aspects of emotion, I decided I would have to snap that up immediately.

First, it's important to note that although these stories are mostly related to sex in some way, they don't really qualify as erotica, at least not in my opinion. The ones that are kind of hot are always too brief, and the others are too weird (or only barely pertain to sex). That being said, they are all very interesting and strange, in much the way one would expect from one of the (dare I say it) geniuses behind one of my favorite comics.

The book, if I may be so Forrest Gump, is not unlike a box of fine edible treats. Each one is briefly enjoyed, somewhere between sweet and savory, and you never get the same thing twice, unless you do.

Look, I don't know how else to describe it. It's good. Check it out.

Cryoburn: The Latest (Last?) Vorkosigan Novel

2011-06-01T10:12:00.019-07:00

Some quick thoughts on Cryoburn, by Lois McMaster Bujold: First, if you haven't read The Vorkosigan Saga, you should. I'm not necessarily sure where you should start--this is a rare occasion when reading the books in strictly chronological order is not ideal--but it definitely isn't here. While every book builds on what came before, thus one contains sufficient subtle references that you'd miss huge chunks of what's happening.

Now, if you have read the rest of the series, and you're wondering if you should pick this one up: Of course you bloody should. It's a Vorkosigan novel! Don't be absurd. I'm not going to try to tell you that it's as good as the early Naismith madness, but it's solid and on a level with, say, Diplomatic Immunity. It's getting harder to throw Miles in to totally bizarre situations. Of course, our author does seem to be pretty skilled at it.

Finally, and while there are no spoilers here you might consider skipping this if you haven't read just this book, because it might be really easy to figure out what happened, there's the matter of the ending. Aside from my personal feelings about it, it raises the question of the future of the series. LMB could be completely done, which I hope we can all agree would really suck. Or she could be setting up to focus on other characters, which is hardly unprecedented (this whole thing starts, after all, with the prior generation, to say nothing of Falling Free). Or maybe she just hasn't decided, and/or has and this was all just inevitable anyway. (Vague enough for you?)

Regardless, I'm operating on the assumption that she isn't planning to leave us hanging, because she ends the book with five drabbles. While they are certainly appropriate and well used, they also seem to be an intentional shout out to the readers, since if I'm not mistaken drabbles are a common fan thing, and she certainly evidences a knowledge of fanfic/filk/etc on her website. I could be wrong about this, but I hope I am not, because a nod to the existence of the fans could be a 'stay with me here' sort of gimmick, and LMB has certainly earned some trust of that sort as far as I'm concerned.

Of course, and not to be a jerk about it, Zelazny and Jordan have shown us that any book can be the last. Let's just hope there's more coming.

zomg we'll be friends forever!!!!1

2011-05-28T05:40:00.002-07:00

So as we are all settling in to our post-graduation destinations (or, if you're like me, still only halfway there at the time of this post), I wanted to call everyone's attention to their friends from college.

Here's the thing. I had friends, back when I went to college the first time. The ones in my home city (from the community college where I started) I kept in touch with for years, because hey, that's nice and easy. But the ones from the college across the state, my two best friends for my entire stay on campus? Not so much. I've seen one of them two or three times in the past decade. I can't even remember the other's last name.

No matter how close you are, no matter how much you enjoy spending time together, and no matter how much you promise each other you'll always be friends, it requires effort. Because people who aren't sharing daily experiences grow in different directions. It's unavoidable. It's a function of human nature.

And don't make the mistake of thinking that social networking can prevent this. Like I just said recently, Jon Stewart once brilliantly described social networking as a way of maintaining relationships with people we can't be bothered to actually keep in touch with. Of course he was right, but I think it gives us the impression we're "in touch," and can lead to not sending followup messages when we might otherwise.

So here's my advice: If you really do care about the friends you made in college, and you really do want to keep in touch with them--and I think most of you do, at least at the moment--you'll need to make a point of talking to them on a regular basis for a good long time.

Personally, I've decided to revitalize the old tradition of pen pals. I've given myself a little reminder in my planner (because that's how I roll) to email people every two months or so. Which doesn't mean I'm going to email everyone every time, of course, because there's a lot of people I'm only vaguely in touch with. But I'm going to try to honor the idea, because I've lost a lot of friends due to simple attrition over the years, and it's unfortunate in the extreme.

I encourage you all to do something similar.

California, here I come!

2011-05-23T15:00:00.000-07:00

So, for those not in the know, I have been accepted by San Diego State University in the department of Rhetoric and Writing Studies.

As such, I will be packing up my car immediately after graduation and heading west. In point of fact, this post should be going live right about the time that I'm heading out on the first leg of my trip. This is terribly exciting for me, as I have never lived in California, but I have always wanted to.

There will, no doubt, be pictures of our trip; look for those on my Flickr stream. Feel free also to tune in to my Twitter account if you want to hear me complain about driving through the Midwest in 140-character bursts.

Peace out, kids. I'll see you when I see you.

ghost town in the ADK

2011-05-18T02:29:00.007-07:00

I have wanted for some time to photograph a ghost town. So when Sam mentioned that there was one in the Adirondacks, I figured I should check it out with great haste.

Tahawus was an on-again off-again mining town, featuring a massive blast furnace and a lot of collapsing buildings. I won't get in to the history here because frankly that's not my thing. What I will tell you is this: Set your GPS to 44.08900N, 74.05636W if you want in on this awesomeness. I went in the winter because I had to, but I would also recommend checking it out once the snow has melted and it's easier to get around those houses.

The best part, in my humble, is that the whole thing is owned by the Open Space Institute, which is an organization whose mission is to buy old tracts of land such as this and let them rot. Two reasons: One, nature reclaims the remains, which is awesome. Two, the public is allowed to check them out, which is even more awesome. I love this idea, and I'm delighted that I was able to check this out.

You should take a peek at my Flickr set! I am very pleased with these pictures.

dinner in the dark

2011-05-11T08:05:00.024-07:00

An artist's interpretation.

A few weekends ago, I took some friends to O.NOIR, a restaurant in Montreal. O.NOIR is a concept restaurant, to say the least: The waiters are all blind, and the dining room is pitch black. You spend the entire meal in darkness, with only the voices of your companions for company.

As you might imagine, a dining setup like this leads to some confusion, but the staff of the restaurant seems well acquainted with that, and was very helpful in guiding us through the process. We were offered lockers and coat racks to store our possessions, and given strict instructions to turn off all light-emitting electronic devices, including glowing watches. (I had to help a woman I've never met turn off her iPhone, because she'd never had the need before.) Then, we placed our orders from the menu, and were introduced to our waiter.

His name was pronounced "Fey," although I'm sure that's not how it's spelled. We'll go with that, though, since it is at least phonetically correct. Fey had us link up with hands on shoulders, conga-style, and lead us to our table. He guided each of us to our seats with precision and care, then began serving.

First, let me note that due to the timing of the restaurant--there are two dinners, and you have to be seated within 30 minutes of the scheduled start--food was served very swiftly. And what wonderful food it was. I got an avocado salad as a starter, with a shrimp dish for my entree, and chocolate mousse for dessert. I wish I could give you more details of the dishes, but I'm afraid I simply wasn't paying attention when I ordered. Regardless, every single thing I had was delicious.

There is some debate amongst my companions as to how good the food was. This is not to say that we didn't all enjoy it, but rather we're unsure if the food was good on its own merits, or if our other senses were heightened by the darkness. That question is well above my pay grade. I just know everything was delicious.

Although I definitely enjoyed myself, and I didn't feel the urge to rush, I was very much ready to go once our post-dessert coffee had arrived. Fey did not seem at all surprised by this, and brought us all out to the lobby. The subdued lighting in the public areas was tastefully done and the transition was not at all painful.

There was at least one table that changed their minds shortly after being seated; they were leaving just as we came in. I don't imagine there to be much shame in that; it is a very disorienting experience. Having done it once, I don't know if I would do it again--but I am glad I did it once. As such, I would recommend it to anyone and everyone who thinks they can handle it. My understanding is that there are several locations--if there is one near you, you should consider making reservations.

self-shaming

2011-05-04T20:03:00.002-07:00

Friends, I have a confession, and it's a doozy: It's been nearly a year since I finished a book for fun. (The Manual of Detection. Highly recommend.) And I think that book was the only one I finished for fun last summer, which means it's been two years since I finished more than one book for fun.

Well, okay, I've read some graphic novels in that time. But you know what I mean.

I claim that I haven't had any time for free reading, and that's not entirely inaccurate, but it's not exactly true either. After all, I've had plenty of time to watch NCIS and play new video games, right? The truth is I haven't had spare brainpower. Any time I've been coherent enough for reading, I've done schoolwork. So my "free" time isn't really free, it's just time in which I'm not ready to go to bed and useless for schoolwork.

In the fall, grad school starts, and I suspect this situation will just get worse. So I've pledged, amidst the moving and the craziness of settling into a new place (more on that in a later entry), I will be reading some books, by God. Accordingly, I stacked up all my old video games that I was sick of looking at, and I shipped them off to Amazon. I've used that credit to buy some items to read this summer.

I'm listing them here so I can shame myself into following through on this, and I will ask you all to shame me yourselves if I don't post some thoughts on each of these. At any rate, the list:

Robert A. Heinlein: In Dialogue with His Century: Volume 1 (1907-1948): Learning Curve: I've actually had this for a while, and I'm only about a quarter of the way through it, and that annoys me. So I will read it.
The Daily Show and Rhetoric: Arguments, Issues and Strategies: I am such a nerd as regards my subject area that I am buying textbooks to read for fun. I blame the professor who got me in to rhetoric for this.
Man With a Maid: And Other Victorian Stories: This is a classic, or perhaps in this case several classics. I've read the title story before, but I'm curious about what else the book contains.
From the End of the Twentieth Century by John M. Ford: If you don't know who John M. Ford is, I'm not surprised. He's ... I guess I would say his stories are to science fiction writers as The Aristocrats is (was) to comedians. Which isn't to lay claim to the title "science fiction writer," but I am a writer, and I do enjoy science fiction, so I can get down with some Ford from time to time.
Cryoburn, by Lois McMaster Bujold: The latest Vorkosigan novel should need no introduction. The fact that it got a Hugo nod basically told me to get off my ass and read it already.
Sex at Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality: I hear this book really irritated some anthropologists, and Dan Savage certainly seems to have loved it, so I'm going to go ahead and give it a quick perusal.

So. If anyone has any thoughts on that list, please do feel free to share them.

Update (5/5/11): I realized there were already several books on the stack that I really want to read in the near future, so here they are as well. This makes for a fairly ambitious summer, considering I'm going from 1 to, what, 11? But I'm going to definitely do the above six, and see where I get with the following five:

Machine of Death: This has been sitting on my shelf since it was gifted to me half a year or more ago from some faculty in my department. Which I really appreciated, so it's embarrassing that I haven't read it yet, but since it's their classes I'm busy with, I don't feel too terribly bad. I wanted this primarily because Malki! of Wondermark is one of the authors.
Master: The Unauthorized Autobiography of Master R (NSFW!): Master R spoke at Potsdam a few months ago, and I was quite impressed. I picked up his book and haven't even really had time to flip through it. It is signed, though, and that pleases me.
It Gets Better: Coming Out, Overcoming Bullying, and Creating a Life Worth Living: I bought this as a pre-order mostly out of solidarity with the movement but now that it's in my hands I would like to sit down with it.
The Girl Who Couldn't Come: Man, I completely forgot I had this. It's a book of weird erotica by one of the authors of a softer world, which is just such an intriguing concept I had to acquire it. Then I set it aside and frankly I'm not even sure where it wound up. But I'll find it as I pack, I'm sure.
The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin: I snagged this as a free Kindle book right after I got my iPod Touch and I've been perusing it when I have time free but I haven't really gotten more than halfway. I would like to finish it; Ben Franklin is pretty cool in my estimation.

So there you have it. Also, if anyone is interested, you can always follow my progress at my GoodReads profile (or, you know, in the little box in the sidebar of my blog).

A theory

2011-04-14T15:53:00.000-07:00

You know how, when you first put clothes on, you feel them? Then, as you get used to them, you stop noticing it until they do something that demands your attention?

I bumped in to an old lover today. Actually she was never really a lover, but she's in that file in my mind. (The wherefores and the whys aren't relevant here.) Also, I didn't really bump in to her so much as see a comment by her on a mutual acquaintance's Facebook post. But then, that's the beauty of Facebook, isn't it? It lets us "bump in to" people we'd all but forgotten.

I clicked through her name, and looked at her profile photo, and she looks just like I remember her, plus ten years. Which is about what I expected, under the circumstances. But I still found it jarring.

Jon Stewart once described Facebook--or maybe MySpace, this was a long time ago--as a way of maintaining relationships with people we can't be bothered to actually keep in touch with. And sometimes we do that with old lovers or exes, and we're never quite sure why.

My theory is that it's just like clothing. When they're always there, you can tune them out until they do something that demands attention.

a love note to intelligence

2011-02-25T16:29:00.000-08:00

You know, the internet is full of many splendid things, and while I certainly don't claim to see even a fraction of them, a fair number pass my eyes. I like sarcasm, so I tend to pay attention to things that are sarcastic. Like this article from The Onion, "Nation Somehow Shocked By Human Nature Again." Or this post from a Facebook group called the Sarasota Values Education, "Teachers make too much money!" When I see these things, I laugh. Because they're funny. And yes, both are intended to be funny.

Then I look at the comments. I know I shouldn't. I've been on the internet far too long to not know better. But I do it anyway. And I inevitably see people who just. Don't. Get. It. It hurts me deep inside when I see this level of dumb. It makes me sad for humanity.

But today it dawned on me that I never see those reactions on my own posts, at least from people I know. Well, rarely, there was that one time, but we don't need to talk about that. The point is, my friends aren't stupid. And so this is me, thanking you, my friends, for not being dumb. Because even if it would give me something to yell about, the rise in blood pressure would probably prove fatal.

That is all.

grandiosely verbose

2011-02-17T05:37:00.000-08:00

I was reading Edwin Black's "The Second Persona" for class recently and I came across this paragraph. Now, I actually agree with what he seems to be saying here. But I have to ask: Really? Really, Edwin?

While in ages past men living in the tribal warmth of the polis had the essential nature of the world determined for them in their communal heritage of mythopoesis, and they were able then to assess the probity of utterance by reference to its mimetic relationship to the stable reality that undergirded their consciousness, there is now but the rending of change and the clamor of competing fictions. The elegant trope of Heraclitus has become the delirium of politics. Thus is philosophy democratized.

Obligatory MLA citation: Black, Edwin. "The Second Persona." Ed. Carl R. Burgchardt. Readings in Rhetorical Criticism. 4th ed. State College, PA: Strata, 2010. Print.

Geek Social Fallacies, Part 4

2011-02-10T07:53:00.004-08:00

I'm done now with the Geek Social Fallacies in the original article. I want to add another here, because it's something I see a lot that I absolutely hate, and that is the way geeks fall in love (or think they do).

Stop me if you've heard this one: A geek meets a pretty girl. Geek falls head over heels for girl. "Love at first sight." Her personality and intellect are essentially irrelevant, though they will always be included in descriptions of her, mostly as an afterthought. Rather than asking girl out, geek finds a way to RL-lurk. Geek writes angsty blog posts how pure and perfect girl is versus how dark and pathetic he is. And so on, forever. If the girl is extremely lucky, she has no idea she is the target of this.

Sounds familiar, doesn't it? We've all seen it. Hell, I'll even admit to having done it, when I was a younger man. But it is just so stupid that every time I see it makes me feel like my brain just got kicked in the junk.

Listen, geeks, let's have a moment here. When you do this, putting someone up on a pedestal so high you can't reach them, you aren't in love with them. You are, at best, in love with the idea of them. You can't possibly be in love with them because you're so busy distancing yourself from them that you're actually separating yourself from any hope of learning about them. And you really, truly, cannot be actually in love with a person you don't know. Certainly not when this ideal in your mind keeps growing closer to perfection every day, overshadowing the real person it's based on.

Examine your motives. If your poetry is all about how pretty she is, and her ruby-red lips with that perfect little beauty mark just over them (not to quote my own old journal entries or anything), there's a good chance you're just experiencing lust. If your every description of her is how beautiful she is, oh and she's got a great personality/IQ too, there's a good chance you just want to nail her. And that is okay. That is a normal human reaction to an attractive person. And if you are just lusting after her, get a grip on yourself. It doesn't have to be a horrible tragic thing, even if it's unfulfilled.

(Sidebar: That beauty mark turned out to be a scar that she put makeup on every day. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but take note, geeks, you don't know everything.)

And if your response is to sneer at me and tell me how pure and noble your feelings are, revisit your angsty little journals again, and look at the part where you're talking about how dark and impure you are. Don't pretend it doesn't exist. I know you. Examine your motives.

But hey, you're convinced you're legitimately in love with her. Okay, well, let me say this: I have been in love. Being in love is a powerful thing. James Moran described it as temporary insanity, and I think he was right. Because when you are in love with someone you don't flutter around the wings like the Phantom of the Opera. Being in love is about stammering "hello I love you please marry me," not about trying to "establish a real ... audible connection."

Listen, I understand. Believe me, I do. Sometimes they're legitimately unapproachable, because they're, for instance, dating your best friend. Sometimes you could approach them, but you are certain they will reject you, and you simply don't want to go through that. In those cases, I am not advising you to throw caution to the wind and screw up your life. But if you're going to continue to obsess about the idea of someone, you should know that about yourself. And if you know that about yourself, quit whining about it.

Thank you.

Disclaimer: Yes, this entire entry was fabricated on the idea that it is male geeks who do this about pretty girls. I have not personally seen female geeks do this, nor have I seen male geeks do this about pretty boys. Far be it from me to discriminate, though: Regardless of your gender or orientation, knock it off, it's stupid.

it's meta

2011-02-07T07:44:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to note that I am very pleased with the schedule feature of Blogger in Draft, and I am equally pleased with how well I am doing at keeping a regular update schedule. I was doing three a week for a while (including the cooking blog, mind you), but as the semester begins and my buffer of posts starts to dwindle, I've opted to change to two a week.

I am also pleased with how well I've done with my series posts. The songs that kick my ass project went very well, even if people tended to disagree with my assessment of the music (Philistines!). The posts on the Geek Social Fallacies should be wrapping up soon. And of course I should make note of the Sex and the City class/travel posts from last winter.

Also, I wanted to tip my hat to the people who actually read these. Even if you just follow my links from Facebook, it's good to know that I'm not just shouting into the void. Mostly, perhaps, but not just. So: Thanks. :)

consumer culture

2011-02-03T07:36:00.001-08:00

This story is a little overdue, since by the time it goes live it will be February, but I just felt the need to rant a little. Shortly before Christmas, I was out and about doing a bit of shopping for myself. As I believe I have mentioned, I acquired an iPod Touch for myself not all that long ago, and at first I wasn't able to find cases designed for the newest generation, which mine is. I figured (rightly) that they would have finally hit the market, so I wandered in to Best Buy and picked one off the shelves. (It's electric blue and it's got the Skullcandy logo on the back. It's very cute.) While there, I picked up a car charger, because I take a lot of road trips. They were all in the range of $20 and up, which I found excessive, but by the time you pay shipping it's just as expensive to buy from ThinkGeek, so I just went with it.

Anyway, this is all just background. Shortly thereafter, I wandered over to Target, which is in the same plaza, because I wanted to see if they had Tim Tams. (They did! I am happy.) On my way through the store, I passed an endcap of Christmas products. I don't mean Christmas-themed products, I mean cheap little gizmos that come in Christmas-print boxes, all priced at $5. Stocking stuffers, you might say. What attracted me to this endcap was a set of iPod speakers, which I wanted to get a closer look at. As I moved in, I realized there was a car charger specifically for iPods. For five dollars. Now, the speakers I figured were crap, but a charger is a charger, so I snagged the box, thinking I would just buy that and return the other.

Upon turning it over, I found a warning printed on the back. I didn't think to snap a picture, so this is from memory, but essentially the warning read "Handling the wrapped wires of this product will result in exposure to lead. Please wash hands after use."

Really? I mean ... really? What ... I don't ... gah. Look, I understand the urge for cheap consumer electronics, but can't we do just a little bit better than this?

Merry Christmas. Poison your children!

Egad.

Geek Social Fallacies, Part 3

2011-01-31T07:20:00.002-08:00

Okay, so we've finally spoken about all five Geek Social Fallacies. Today I want to address the counter-fallacy noted at the bottom of the original article, "Your Feelings, Your Problem." I quote:

YFYP carriers deal with other people's fallacies by ignoring them entirely, in the process acquiring a reputation for being charmingly tactless. Carriers tend to receive a sort of exemption from the usual standards: "that's just Dana",[sic] and so on. YFYP has its own problems, but if you would rather be an asshole than angstful, it may be the way to go. It's also remarkably easy to pull off in a GSF1-rich environment.

Anyone who knows me at all well is smirking right now, because that's me. Well, in actuality it isn't, but it looks like it should be. Here's the thing: I didn't get the way I am now by ignoring the personality issues of people around me. And I want people to understand that.

I'll go ahead and quote The Royal Tenenbaums here: "I've always been considered an asshole for about as long as I can remember. That's just my style." Make no mistake, this isn't an accident, and I'm not trying to claim I don't live for that particular appellation. But that's precisely the core of it: I am not an asshole by mistake, but by design. So when I'm blithely ignoring GSF1-style social conventions and bellowing at what's-her-name at a party because I'm just so sick of her being invited around, it's not because I don't understand. Nobody else wants to be the one to tell her to get lost, and that's okay. Because I'm an asshole. So I'll do it for them.

(I'm going to get yelled at for using that example. But I'm okay with that. I maintain that people should thank me for that event.)

I worry, when it comes right down to it, that this distinction might exist only in my head. But in my head, it is a crucial one. Someone who is an asshole due to some combination of ignorance and naïveté is, in my opinion, intolerably annoying. On the contrary, again in my personal view of the world, an asshole by design should be judged not by whether they are an asshole, but by how good at it they are. This is why many of my friends are considered just mean by normal standards: Because they are brilliant at it, and it takes my breath away to watch.

In the end, I suppose I just have to hope people look at me the same way.

HP and the eff'n Bear

2011-01-27T05:23:00.000-08:00

Someone recently told me that I was missing out on one of life's great pleasures, because I had not seen something called "Wizard People." I can't say as how I took them particularly seriously, but since I was hanging out recently with a Harry Potter fanatic, I decided to look in to it.

(Confidential to said fanatic: Yes, you totally are, don't even pretend.)

The full title turns out to be "Wizard People, Dear Reader," and it's an alternate soundtrack to the first Harry Potter movie. You might be thinking Rifftrax, as I was at first, but no. Rather than commentary on the movie, this is one crazed lunatic reading his own narration of the events, which somewhat resembles the original story but can only be described as insanely funny.

I'm not sure I can really describe it for you. Somewhere between laughing myself to tears at his renaming of McGonagall to "Hardcastle McCormick" and his redefinition of Snape as a hideous but well-meaning female, I realized that the humor (and the voice) remind me of nothing so much as that infamous 70-minute review of Phantom Menace that made the rounds some years ago.

I don't really know what to add here. Regardless of your opinion of it, if you've ever been so much as exposed to Harry Potter, this is probably worth your time. I'm almost certainly going to have to listen to it again at some point, because all that laughter obscured a number of jokes that I'm sure I'll find every bit as damaging as the ones I caught the first time. If that sounds like your sort of event, well, you know what to do.

happiness as a psychiatric disorder

2011-01-24T09:00:00.000-08:00

I cannot for the life of me remember what I was doing when I heard about this study, but someone somewhere mentioned that it existed, so I promptly went digging through my university's database access and found it. The article is titled "A proposal to classify happiness as a psychiatric disorder," written by one Richard P. Bentall of Liverpool University, and it was published in 1992 in the Journal of Medical Ethics (18:94-98). Here's the abstract:

It is proposed that happiness be classified as a psychiatric disorder and be included in future editions of the major diagnostic manuals under the new name: major affective disorder, pleasant type. In a review of the relevant literature it is shown that happiness is statistically abnormal, consists of a discrete cluster of symptoms, is associated with a range of cognitive abnormalities, and probably reflects the abnormal functioning of the central nervous system. One possible objection to this proposal remains--that happiness is not negatively valued. However, this objection is dismissed as scientifically irrelevant.

Obviously I can't just post it for your perusal, but it looks like someone at the University of Sussex already has. I highly recommend giving that link a read (or accessing it through your university/workplace/what have you), because it is an exceptional piece of work. I shall give you one particularly choice quote, just in case the abstract wasn't tantalizing enough:

Consistent clinical evidence of an association between happiness, obesity and indulgence in alcoholic beverages has existed from before the time of scientific medicine (Julius Caesar, for example, is reputed to have asked for the company of fat men on these grounds). Given the well-established link between both alcohol and obesity and life-threatening illnesses it seems reasonable to assume that happiness poses a moderate risk to life. The common observation that happiness leads to impulsive behaviour is a further cause for concern.

However, a word of caution: If the author is correct in his assessment of happiness as a disorder, it is apparently one that can be spread through the transmission of ideas. Because this article made me very, very happy. (I'm not worried, though; I always get over such attacks quickly.)

Geek Social Fallacies, Part 2

2011-01-20T06:58:00.001-08:00

So we're back on Geek Social Fallacies, which I first mentioned a few weeks ago. I'm not going to spend a lot of time analyzing GSF2, since you can imagine how well I do with people who don't take criticism. GSF3 doesn't bother me a lot; while I carry a mild version of it, I'm good at juggling obligations. So we'll skip right to GSF4 and GSF5.

To quote the original article, "GSF4 is the belief that any two of your friends ought to be friends with each other, and if they're not, something is Very Wrong." On the other hand, "GSF5, put simply, maintains that every friend in a circle should be included in every activity to the full extent possible."

This is of special note to me because I like to have dinner parties. I had a few last semester, and I'm looking to have a good number this spring, since it's my last undergrad hurrah. There are limitations built into hosting a dinner party, though: Unless you want to spend a lot of time and money, neither of which I'm generally in the mood to squander, you can only host a handful of people. Having replaced my dishes, I've gone from six to eight dinner plates, which may seem laughable but there's only one dish cupboard in my kitchen and it's very small indeed. This isn't exactly a having-good-China kind of apartment. Not to mention table space, chairs, et cetera. So I generally restrict myself to five guests, maybe six, plus myself.

Since the majority of my guests are tapped from the campus community, there's a certain amount of knowing each other involved, but sometimes I include my few off-campus friends. This means that at any event, there are going to be people who haven't met, or have only met in passing, suddenly engaged in conversation. This is where GSF4 becomes an issue: People who carry this trait don't generally worry about balancing personality and making sure people are right for the chosen activity of an evening. They just throw everyone together and trust that everyone will love everyone else.

This is, of course, the height of foolishness. I wouldn't describe my friends as incredibly picky people, and frankly I'm sufficiently picky that I don't keep a lot of friends around who I wouldn't want to introduce to others, but personalities can clash. So can religious and political ideals. This sort of thing merits consideration.

Which leads, of course, to the problem of GSF5. If I have to worry about personality balance, to say nothing of running out of plates (and cooking for fifteen after working all day? forget it!), I can't invite everyone from the "master list," can I? So while each party tends to have a core of people I'm very close with, I have to cycle through my alternates to avoid leaving any of them out in the cold. Even so, we can see that I have a certain amount of GSF5 in my thinking; the aforementioned core would never be left off the guest list regardless of the convenience factor.

So I guess I'm not ranting and raving about how stupid these fallacies are. Well, okay, GSF4 is pretty stupid. But I'm mostly kvetching about the effort required to work around the problems they present. Life would be much easier if I had a private chef and a banquet room. But then, I guess that goes without saying.

Agloves

2011-01-10T09:00:00.000-08:00

As some of you may know, I have recently acquired a 4th Gen iPod Touch, and I cherish it. It has made my life so very much easier, and considerably extended the remaining lifespan of my poor little old-before-its-time MacBook, since it no longer needs to leave the house.

One problem, of course, is that it's cold up here in Potsdam. I'm sure there's a Canadian out there who'll laugh at the very notion, but this is the coldest place I have ever lived. When I was packing to head up here from Rochester, people told me, "You're going to be cold up there." And I just waved them off, citing the weather in Rochester as adequate preparation, but I was wrong. It's cold up here. I was not prepared for it.

So now we have the need to keep my fingers from becoming frostbitten competing with the need to use my little touchscreen device. And along comes a friend who tells me about Agloves. So I snagged a pair immediately.

First, let me talk about the gloves. They're very thin, sort of spandexy, and laced with silver-coated nylon. Or something; hard science isn't exactly my thing. Check their website for specifics. The point is, I can use my iPod while wearing them, and it is awesome. I would go so far as to say that the screen is slightly more responsible while wearing these gloves, and they prevent fingerprints. Of course, they do make it harder to hold the iPod for two-thumb typing. But then, if you have a case--and you really should have a case--you don't have that problem.

The gloves are very comfortable, and they come in a variety of sizes. I have huge hands, to the point where one-size-fits-all gloves don't fit me, so it was a delight to find a manufacturer that offers my size. I am, in fact, on the smallest edge of their large size, so even men bigger than myself can wear these, although they might be a little tight in the wrists, depending on your proportions.

Also, I am pleased to report that I am not allergic to these. I have very sensitive skin, and a standard nickel allergy, so even supposedly sterling silver can cause a big problem for me sometimes. I have had no trouble with these gloves, despite wearing them regularly for weeks.

The only down side is that they just aren't all that warm. Now, to be fair, it's cold up here. On the days where it's only a little below freezing, these are fine. Anything under 20°, though, and my fingers get might cold. On the other hand, since they're so form-fitting, they work well as liners, and still afford some protection when you peel off the outer glove to use your device. So let's file that under "nothing's perfect" and move on.

Also, I want to take a moment to mention the company. Because I'm so very allergic to certain things, I emailed them to see if they had any information. I received a prompt reply from Jennifer Spencer, the president of the company, who told me she wasn't aware of any problems, and attached the MSDS to peruse. (I had to have a friend decipher it for me, but I think that's pretty fair.) When I decided to just go for it, she asked me to let her know how I had done. This is awesome, in my opinion, because it means that if someone else asks this question, she'll have an answer for them.

A lot of companies online aren't terribly responsive to queries of that nature. I've sent questions to companies that have gone totally unanswered, even though it means they're not going to get my business, and sometimes I wonder if there's even someone on the other end getting the messages at all. So when a little company like this is right there for you, it makes me happy.

So what I'm getting at is, if you have a touch-screen anything, and there's winter where you are, you should pick up a pair of these for it.

The Aptitude Test

2011-01-08T09:00:00.000-08:00

Many years ago, when I was relatively poor and absolutely unemployed, I thought it might be interesting to apply at a security company. I figured I could be a security guard with little difficulty. I'm not stupid, I can look reasonably intimidating when I want to, and I figured I would wind up getting the boring jobs that would be easy work for what seemed like a lot of money then, even though it probably wouldn't have been as much as minimum wage is these days.

I went to one place, which shall remain nameless because I don't want to get sued, and they gave me a pile of papers to fill out. One of them was an aptitude test. I thought this was a good idea, so I looked it over, and I was so flabbergasted that I read it again. I thought it was comprised of trick questions at first. Then I realized the bar was being set very, very low. So low I just couldn't bring myself to finish the application process. I walked up to the receptionist and stammered something about needing to get some information on an old employer, and I would bring the paperwork back. She hesitated, and told me that she wasn't supposed to let me leave with the packet, because, well, I might cheat on the aptitude test ... but okay.

I choose to believe that the look of horror on my face convinced her that wasn't my goal. Maybe she just didn't care. I don't know.

Anyway, I found the test, in an admittedly battered state, when I was cleaning out my files a few months ago. Here it is.

PSA: Blogger in Draft

2011-01-05T09:00:00.000-08:00

I've been meaning to post about this for months now, but I keep forgetting, or more accurately, not having time. But I discovered Blogger in Draft, and it makes me very happy. It doesn't add a lot of things, necessarily, but they were all things that I felt were missing from Blogger, like scheduling posts, which is how almost everything I write these days goes up. If I have time to blog, it's going to be several posts at once. But if I just post four things at once, even my few readers won't bother to read them. So I like to space them out. Such as this post--I am actually writing this IN THE PAST DUN DUN DUUUUUN okay that was lame. The point is, it's very, very handy, and if you use Blogger, you should be using Blogger in Draft. Check it out.

Geek Social Fallacies, Part 1

2011-01-03T09:00:00.003-08:00

I have been meaning for some time to write about the Geek Social Fallacies. This is partly because I want people to know about this brilliant article by one Michael Suileabhain-Wilson, and partly because I have been frustrated to no end by some of these traits.

I'm going to start with GSF1: Ostracizers Are Evil. I quote:

In its non-pathological form, GSF1 is benign, and even commendable ... in its pathological form, GSF1 prevents its carrier from participating in--or tolerating--the exclusion of anyone from anything, be it a party, a comic book store, or a web forum, and no matter how obnoxious, offensive, or aromatic the prospective excludee may be.

As a result, nearly every geek social group of significant size has at least one member that 80% of the members hate, and the remaining 20% merely tolerate. If GSF1 exists in sufficient concentration--and it usually does--it is impossible to expel a person who actively detracts from every social event. GSF1 protocol permits you not to invite someone you don't like to a given event, but if someone spills the beans and our hypothetical Cat Piss Man invites himself, there is no recourse.

We all know exactly what this is about, and we've all experienced it in our life. It is, without question, the thing I find most frustrating about hanging out with my fellow geeks.

I am now, and always have been, a strong proponent of starting out friend-like with as many people as possible. (I'd say "friendly" but that's a word that is rarely used to describe me.) Join a social circle. Figure out who's worth having in your life and who's just clinging. Bail on the scene, but stay friends with the people who're worth having around.

The counter-argument is, of course, that it requires quite a bit of egotism to believe you're worth following away from an established social circle. To which I reply, "Yeah? And?"

Look, here's the thing. If you legitimately feel that people are better off hanging out with a crowd containing people they don't like than with you, you are doing something wrong. If you're an even remotely worthwhile friend, there's no reason people shouldn't pick you over people they don't actually enjoy spending time with.

Granted, while putzing about with the social circle you spend a lot of time dealing with people you don't like, but in the end you tend to collect worthwhile friends that stick with you. And it gives you an opportunity to be rude to stupid people, which is something I've always enjoyed.

I guess what I'm saying is this: To all you GSF1 sufferers, please, reevaluate your life. If there's someone you hate constantly hanging about, are you really doing yourself a favor by keeping them around out of charity? Maybe if enough people reject them, politely, firmly, and with explicit reason, they will find their faults and correct them. And if not, there's always other GSF1 types who they can latch on to instead.

Songs That Kick My Ass #5: The Shortest Story

2011-01-01T09:00:00.002-08:00

So how do I top last week's entry?

Oh right. Harry Chapin. The man can make compelling, identifiable characters out of an infamous serial killer, a corrupt cop, and a murderous drug-dealing pimp. So why not a starving baby?

True story: Though this song kicks my ass, it does so less than The Cat Carol. Sad commentary on how desensitized we can become to the plight of our fellow man, no?

greater than three

2010-12-29T09:00:00.000-08:00

This is just one of the many reasons I love Bandcamp:

vanity feed notice

2010-12-25T08:45:00.000-08:00

Those of you subscribed to the vanity feed may see posts come and go. Sorry about that. I keep scheduling posts for the beginning of next month and forgetting that it's also the beginning of next year, so Blogger (quite logically) keeps backdating them by 11 months or so. Then I have to fix, etc. My bad.

Songs That Kick My Ass #4: The Cat Carol

2010-12-25T05:00:00.007-08:00

Merry Christmas! Prepare to be depressed.

This is the song that inspired this series of posts. I heard this playing on WBER a few years ago and actually had to pull my car over in the middle of a snowstorm because I couldn't continue driving while listening to it. If you're judging me, it's because you haven't clicked play on the video I embedded, or you're simply not a human being. I mean, I don't mind that you're a robot, robots are cool, but I don't understand how any flesh and blood creature can listen to that song and not get at least a little bit sad.

I have nothing more to say. I truly believe this needs no explanation. Joyeux noël, y'all.

PS: If you're as much the emotional masochist as I apparently am, you should buy this CD.

Songs That Kick My Ass #3: Riding with Private Malone

2010-12-18T09:00:00.050-08:00

Let me start by saying that if you're going to judge me for liking a country song, you can just bite me. Okay? Okay. Moving on.

So, once upon a time, I drove my sister back and forth between our home town and her school in Pennsylvania a few times. This always seemed to happen at night, largely because that's when I was most reliably conscious, and frequently entailed leaving unexpectedly from my parents' house with no good CDs in the car. This is problematic because radio stations along that stretch of turnpike are few and far between. And the ones I could find were always country and/or gospel.

Fortunately, the car that we used for these excursions had a radio with an automatic scan button, which was a fairly new concept at the time (or at least new to me). And for some reason I've always found that random shuffling of stations to be aesthetically pleasing in its own way, so I used to just let it roam the whole trip, stopping for the occasional song. Since I generally don't dig country, I was quite surprised to find myself stopping for this one:

Now, you have to understand that I lack the, as my British friend Chris put it, "jingoist sense of patriotism" that many of my fellow countrymen so often espouse. Some call this a character flaw; I consider it pragmatism. That should not be taken as an indication that I don't enjoy living in this country--I am always cognizant of the fact that there are very few places in the world where I could so safely complain about the ruling regime--but I just don't get very worked up the way others do.

However, I respect the hell out of people who serve in the military. This is at odds with my total lack of respect for how we as a country tend to use our military, but I don't consider those to be identical concepts at all. Maybe it's the influence of so much Heinlein at a young age: "The noblest fate that a man can endure is to place his own mortal body between his loved home and the war's desolation." Or maybe it's that hopeless romanticism I mentioned last week. Soldiers in stories are inherently tragic, glorious, and largely anonymous figures.

And let's be clear, this song is a story, as so few are these days. The idea of a soldier, having already given his life for his country, to show up one last time and protect a fellow serviceman ... well, it just hits all those buttons.

So this became one of the very, very few country songs that I listen to routinely. Enjoy.

Frederik Pohl

2010-12-13T09:00:00.002-08:00

Frederik Pohl is a science fiction author. I am only familiar with his book Gateway, which I read in my SF class many years ago at MCC, and I won't lie, it wasn't my favorite. But nobody can claim he isn't influential, especially for his various roles in the science fiction community over the years, and as I recall one of the servers at the University of Cincinnati is named after him. (Don't ask me how I know that.)

At any rate, Mr. Pohl is now 90 years old, and blogging his memoirs. I find this fascinating, partly for the insight into golden age science fiction and its various authors (including Heinlein, my very favorite), and also because Mr. Pohl is an eloquent man, and of course his memoirs convey primarily his own perspective on events, but he seems disinclined to hide his own flaws. While I wouldn't dream of saying his blog is without ego, he makes no claim to perfection and writes matter-of-factly about both his successes and failures throughout life. Maybe it's a function of age, or maybe he's so devoted to an ideal of the truth that he'd rather be known for his own failures than someone else's success. Regardless, there is an essential humanness about this that I find fascinating, and I recommend his blog to anyone else interested in the machinations of SF fandom so many years ago.

Also, a note to fellow denizens of Potsdam: Mr. Pohl occasionally mentions David Kyle, who resides in our town, and who is quite a character himself. If you know him, or attended his talk last semester on campus, this might be quite amusing to you as well.

Edit: It has been pointed out that I forgot the actual link to the blog. So I put it in twice up above. My bad.

Songs That Kick My Ass #2: Leaf on the Wind

2010-12-11T09:00:00.007-08:00

Okay, listen. I'm a nerd, okay? I don't want there to be any confusion about that. I am a giant nerd, and I'm comfortable with it. So when I tell you that the next song in this list of songs I get all sniffly over is about the movie Serenity, we can just take it as read that you think I'm a giant nerd and I don't care.

That being said, this contains spoilers. Stop now if that's a problem for you.

So, in Serenity, Wash dies. Wash was a very popular character even in comparison to every other popular character in the series, because he was carefree and loving and kind of nuts. I mean, so were they all, but he really had that certain something, you know?

At any rate, it is my opinion that the death of Wash was brutal, pointless, and an intentional nail in the coffin of the Firefly franchise. The death of Book was something that could have been addressed later, and though I wasn't happy about it, there was room for improvement. But I read Wash's death as Joss Whedon saying "Enough already and if you make me do this again I'll kill all the rest, too." Which I guess he has a right to say, but I still didn't enjoy paying $9 to see it.

Blah blah blah whatever, that's not what we're here to talk about. We're here to talk about "Leaf on the Wind," by The Bedlam Bards. You should buy the CD, of course. But you can always listen to the song via the magic of embedded YouTube movies:

I don't really know what else there is to say. Somewhere underneath all the cynicism, I'm a hopeless romantic. And the Wash/Zoë love was not something to be waved off. And that last bit of the song, "Put me where I'll see stars so that I can see you / and I'll soar like a leaf on the wind" ... well, I don't know what to tell you. It makes my big nerd heart all sad.

Songs That Kick My Ass #1: Valkyrie Daughter

2010-12-04T15:00:00.000-08:00

I've decided to do a series of posts about songs to which I have a legitimate emotional reaction. This is partly some self-therapizing "touchy-feely counselor crap," as my father would ("jokingly") say, and partly just because I happen to think these songs are amazing and I want people to know about them.

Of course, I decide to do a lot of series of posts, so we'll see. I have these all in my day planner, one per Saturday, for the next few weeks. So this will also be an experiment to see if I can actually make myself write for this blog on a schedule. I figure if I can do it for a newspaper, I can do it for a blog. The question is whether I actually will.

But anyway. Song number one, because I want to make sure it gets mentioned, is by one of my very favorite artists ever, S.J. Tucker, and is called "Valkyrie Daughter." You can (and should) purchase it from its download page, but I will attempt to embed it here through the magic of bandcamp:

"Valkyrie Daughter," which I will not abbreviate for obvious reasons, is a story-telling kind of song about a Norse warrior whose daughter died entirely too young, and his quest to improve her afterlife. I'm not even sure I can explain how it manages to get me so thoroughly, but somewhere around the five minute mark, when our hero sacrifices the eternity of his existence for a chance of improving his daughter's lot, I start to get all misty, and it's not a passing thing; it kicks my ass from that point on to the finale, even (or perhaps especially) through the inevitable ending.

In truth, this song (like most I will write about) is flagged in iTunes as being ineligible for loading onto my iPod, because it's too awkward to listen to in public. Big dude like me should not be sniffling his way through the grocery store, you know what I mean?

So I recommend that you give it a listen. I know it's long. I also know it's worth every second of your time. If you do that, I promise I'll try to be a little more coherent in explaining the impact these songs have on me in the future.

the perils of stupid

2010-12-01T04:58:00.001-08:00

Round about this time last year, I was living in a very small apartment. Trying to cram my girlfriend's stuff in with my own wasn't working out very well, so I decided to get a storage cube at a nearby location. I won't list brand name except to say that you haul your own stuff in, if you know what I mean, but that's just out of a general desire to avoid naming names, because the stupidity wasn't on their part.

Here's the thing. This little locker I was renting was inside, climate-controlled and all, so it came to about $40 a month. The guy at the desk was very nice, and we sailed through the sign-up procedure with no problem until he told me I had to buy a lock from his store, because only a specific kind of lock branded by the company could be used on these lockers. The lock cost $11.

I'm actually okay with that. It's a big sturdy lock, and I can understand their desire to have a master key since my stuff is in their place. The company is reputable and I've dealt with this office. Plus, $11 isn't that bad; I just chalked it up in my head as a sign-up fee. Plus I didn't think to bring a lock with me, so I was actually kind of glad they had some for sale.

Then he tells me, "You can either have the first month free, or you can have the lock for free."

I just stared at him, while he went from total deadpan, to a smirk, to a full-on grin. Finally, I kind of shook my head and said, "... so you're asking me if I want to save $11 or $40."

"Yes," he told me, laughing. "But I have to ask which you want."

"That doesn't ... actually work on people, does it?"

"You'd be amazed how many people choose the lock," he told me.

steal this idea: instant-upload photo/video

2010-11-14T08:07:00.009-08:00

In the course of perusing the various blogs I read, I keep seeing this thing were people are getting in trouble for taking pictures and/or video of public places and/or events. To the point of camera confiscation, et cetera, et cetera. But thanks to the ubiquity of smartphones, it seems like everyone has the internet in their pocket at all times. Often on the same device that would be capturing the photo and/or video that gets people in question.

So here's my modest proposal, and I would love it if someone took this idea and ran with it: Let's make a site that streams in reverse. My camera uploads to you as I film, so that when the metaphorical truncheon comes down on the lens, the whole world will see it happen before the bits even hit the ground.

If information equals freedom, this is where we need to go next.

sex nerd

2010-08-27T20:15:00.001-07:00

Let me start by saying that some of these links will not be safe for work, and others might be. You should probably not be reading my blog at work anyway, so click at your own risk.

Now, I feel like can be hard to spread the word about awesome bloggers. So I've decided to just come right out and expound on the awesomeness that is Emily Nagoski, sex nerd.

I found her originally through Eros blog, I do believe, and I have been an avid reader since then. It feels like almost every post she makes strikes a chord with me in some way, and that's not hyperbole. Seeing this blog show up in my list of updated RSS feeds never fails to delight.

Just from looking over her front page, I see several articles I want everyone I know to read. Her most recent post about introverts is an excellent and important bit of information for anyone dealing with the more withdrawn half of the species. She discusses erections as a social/biological event and the general stickiness of sexuality thoroughly and good-naturedly, in a manner approachable to people who have somehow escaped the knowledge she's imparting yet still interesting to those who haven't. She routinely addresses desire and communication, and her post on body image made my day.

You're starting to see what I'm saying here, yes? I really truly think you really truly need to read all five of those articles, which is fully half her front page, and in my humble opinion the others are pretty damn good too. My friends on Facebook must surely be sick of me sharing every other article by now, so I'm going to try to rope that in a little, but here's my (mostly, probably, kind of) final note on the matter: Go read this blog!

question everything

2010-08-15T08:40:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, I cohabitated with someone who owned a Durango Mountain Kingsnake. While in this person's possession, the snake was kept in a 20-ish gallon tank, from which she was rarely (essentially never) removed. In fact, she was never even given a name. I would say she was decorative, except the tank was usually buried under various clutter and rarely on display.

When I ceased co-habitation with said individual, the snake entered my possession. This involved such changes as transferring her to a 55 gallon tank and naming her Cleo. (She's very pretty, and Cleopatra was a fabled beauty who is said to have died by snake ... look, it makes sense to me, okay?) I have also, over the year or so that I've owned her, changed her regular meal from two 'large' mice, which she ate with some difficulty, to three smaller mice, which she had no trouble with. She seemed much happier with those. Because I wasn't sure if this constituted less food, but I was confident she wouldn't eat if she wasn't hungry, I chose to increase the frequency of her feeding to twice as often.

People who own snakes are probably raising their eyebrows at that phrasing. Rightly so. You see, like a true moron, I accepted the care instructions from the previous owner without question. I was told that Cleo would need to be fed once a quarter, give or take. This jived with some little factoid nestled in the back of my brain that snakes only ate every so often and would just fine that way, and it certainly matched what I had witnessed for the duration of the aforementioned cohabitation. So I've been cheerfully running with that, despite this nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me that I was doing it wrong.

So, lo and behold, I was in the pet store, picking up my once-quarterly-now-every-six-weeks batch of mice, and the guy was out of fuzzies (the "medium" of frozen mice). Since, as noted, Cleo's had issues with the larger sort, I settled on pinkies (... the smallest, obviously) and mentioned in passing that I'd probably just feed her again sooner, only to get a good-natured but well-informed lecture about how I should never feed a snake more than once a week. This lead to an uncomfortable conversation in which I was told that I should really be feeding her once a week, and in fact, feeding her every six weeks was a lot like feeding a human one big meal every other day. I would go so far as to say the gentleman at the pet store looked rather horrified.

Of course, I imagine I did, too. I have, in essence, been starving this poor snake for a year, and was party to the same behavior only worse for the better part of two years prior. I find this unacceptable in the extreme.

I am angry, of course, at the previous owner of the snake, because said owner should have known better. If one is going to claim extensive knowledge of wildlife to the point of focusing one's academic career on same, one should know how to take care of one's pets. Feeding a snake that should be fed once a week every three months (in theory) because you think you know everything is cruel, willfully ignorant, and basically just stupid.

However, I am also angry with myself. The only mitigating circumstance I can claim is that I accepted the care instructions of someone who I thought could be considered something of an authority on these matters. Except that this person's competence had repeatedly been called in to question by the time I assumed ownership of Cleo, and so what little authority might have been present should have been discredited in my mind. This is actually compounded by the incredible ease with which I found care information once I started looking. A simple Google search revealed dozens of articles, and of course the search in question was inspired by just asking someone at a pet store. So while my own involvement here lacks the malice implied by willful ignorance, it amounts to me just being really, really stupid and not ever bothering to question something I've suspected all along wasn't quite right.

So now I'm looking for a way to order frozen mice in bulk, and perhaps acquire a larger tank since 65 gallons is considered the minimum space for such a creature when it is well fed. And I am, quite frankly, ashamed. But I am also determined to learn a lesson from this: No matter how cynical you think you are, you might still be dumb enough to just believe someone when they tell you something. And that rarely works out well for anyone involved. Especially when it's not just you involved.

on Google, neutrality, and absurd idealism

2010-08-11T06:56:00.000-07:00

I am not a technology pundit, but I have been watching the ongoing Google/Verizon situation with some interest, because I use a lot of Google products, and I am fond of them. I therefore have an interest in monitoring the company, and a bias towards optimism as far as they are concerned. Well, inasmuch as I have a bias towards optimism in any aspect of life, anyway.

I have also been watching people flip out about this situation, and I feel the need to make a few points. Because while I am not a technology pundit, I am more concerned here with the way people are responding, and I certainly feel comfortable talking about human behavior. I feel am uniquely qualified to do so, being human myself.

So, to recap for those not paying attention: The NYT declared that Google and Verizon were conspiring to destroy Net Neutrality forever. That's not exactly how they phrased it, of course, but it's damn close. First, let me note that this article contains a lot of speculation and a complete absence of fact. I wouldn't print something like that without a damn good reason, and if I were going to do so, I would make certain that said damn good reason was plainly stated in the article.

Nevertheless, this sparked a minor panic. Google and Verizon denied this, of course, which lead to all the usual complaints about Google getting too big and inevitably turning evil. So Google and Verizon went ahead and announced what they had actually been working on, to wit, a proposal for an open, neutral internet (breakdown of specifics here).

Now, this proposal isn't perfect, and nobody is claiming it is. (Hey, it got rushed. Maybe they were planning on working on it some more.) It also doesn't exist in a vacuum. So let's consider what this is: Two major companies who got together and proposed a way to prevent the internet, as it is presently known, from being demolished by a bunch of large companies that choke of access to smaller sites. What it is not: Government agencies, or non-profit organizations, or citizen action groups, or really anyone who has any obligation to act without self-interest, doing anything at all, which is becoming fairly typical in this country. The FCC, our last great hope for this sort of thing, was told by our lovely judicial system to go soak its head, remember? We don't have any government agencies to regulate this anymore. Well, unless you consider Congress an effective ruling body, anyway, in which case good luck with that.

So yes, two enormous corporations got together and proposed something good for your average citizen. Oh, and by the way, their proposal--proposal, mind you, not binding resolution--calls for regulation of one thing while declaring that something else, to wit wireless interaction with said internet, not be regulated yet. Yes, I said yet. They're not proposing immunity, they're just saying that it's brand new, and maybe we should figure out what it is before we start making rules about it. Are they saying that because that's where they get a lot of their money? Yes. Does this make them evil? No! No it doesn't! It makes them human! Think about it.

Keep in mind, too, that Google already risked 4.6 billion dollars to ensure open access to portions of the wireless spectrum, in a move that Republicans screamed was "gaming the system". To say nothing of the whole open access policies Google and Verizon agreed on back when they announced the Android. So while Joy of Tech's 'clever' take left me rolling my eyes, The Far Left Side's little eulogy is downright absurd. So too is this bit of commentary on MSNBC, which charges that "the domain with the most intensive growth potential for new audiences — mobile and data-heavy services — would be locked down and controlled by Verizon." (That's not true, by the way.)

When did we lose our ability to compromise, or even consider solutions that don't do everything we want them to do right away? Considering how often we get those (i.e. never), you'd think we'd at least willing to entertain the notion of a partial solution. Instead, we--we nerds, we humans, maybe we here in the U.S., I'm not sure--have come under the grip of such intense idealism that when a private corporation acts with what I am comfortable describing as a fairly modest amount of self-interest, we accuse them of betrayal and scream that the sky is falling. But back when the courts told the FCC--the government body set up specifically to monitor communication with an eye towards public interest--that they didn't have the right to act on our behalf against Comcast, voted Worst Company in America 2010, where was the outrage? Where were the Facebook links? We just shrugged it off in our cynical way, because getting shafted by ineffective regulating bodies is what we're used to.

I guess what I'm saying is this: Nerds, settle down. It's a proposal. You don't like it? Fine, guess what--it's still just a proposal. Nobody has actually done anything yet. It's a proposal made by for-profit corporations acting in a gap left by failed government oversight. The fact that it has any provisions at all for acting in the public interest is nothing short of astounding. So let's have fewer screams of betrayal and a little more actually working to see that something comes of this before I have to shell out an extra $20 a month just to get access to Blogger.

Because let's face it. Nobody's going to pay to read this nonsense. I'm thinking some guarantees of net neutrality might be pretty important for me.

on longing

2010-08-01T05:40:00.050-07:00

With less than one month to go before school starts, I find myself jonesing for the academic atmosphere.

There's something about being on a college campus that just feels ... right. A sense of belonging, even when it's thoroughly misplaced (for instance, when I'm a [mumble]-year-old undergrad). I felt it back at MCC, even though I didn't know what it was and spent most of my time blowing off class to sit in the game room and watch daytime television. In retrospect, though, it was everywhere, in the cool dark hallways at the base of the towers; it was coded in the logic-defying numbering of building 9.

I felt it at Plattsburgh, too, even when I was desperately trying to figure out what I was doing with myself. It was in the patter that Aaron and I kept up to confused people while 'borrowing' furniture from the dorm lounge; the feel of cold concrete and the sound of the river rushing beneath our feet as Jayme and I hashed out our (read: my) inevitable attacks of angst.

It was there in Brockport, too, though I only barely felt it in my addled haze; Marx Brothers movies and dark nights running around with the gaming club. Even visiting UW and CMU with friends gave me a taste of it--the ivy-covered buildings containing robots destined for Mars and nuclear reactors and other science miles above my pay grade just seemed so perfect to me.

Apparently belonging feels like autumn and absurdity. How apropos.

I have one more year left here at Potsdam and I'm aching for it to start. One more year before I get tossed back out to the madness that is "the real world"--or, God willing, to grad school instead--and I just want it to begin, already.

I am bored with summer! Let's get on with it.

Future awesomeness

2010-07-31T05:26:00.001-07:00

My very favorite FutureMe letter ever, sent to 2059:

Dear Time Traveller,

In the event that you are actually a time traveller and that time travel has actually been discovered by the time this is being read, please accept my invitation to visit the past.

Please meet me on Thursday 8th October of the year 2009 at 0900 BST (0800GMT) outside Northfields Tube Station, Ealing, London, United Kingdom, Planet Earth.

If indeed you are able to make it, please be wearing a RED glove on your RIGHT hand, a GREEN glove on your LEFT hand, and an ORANGE scarf around your neck.

To verify it is actually the author of this message that you are talking to, I will ask you, "WHEN are you from?"

Looking forward to meeting you if you can make it!

Liam.

NASA thoughts (i.e. reposted Columbia reaction)

2010-04-14T19:26:00.003-07:00

I was conversing with some of my cousins today about the future of NASA. I'm torn on the matter, because I think NASA is an important symbol, but I also think it hasn't really represented itself very well over the years. Long story short, I was reminded of what I wrote after the Columbia explosion. Turns out I still kind of like it, so I've decided to show it to the cousins in question, and since it's more or less relevant to the current debate anyway, I've decided to post it here as well.

I would remind everyone that this was written by me seven years ago. Those of you who didn't know me seven years ago should just be aware that those who did are probably smirking at the thought right now.

--

I've seen the standard range of responses to "national tragedy" today. I've seen some genuine over-reactions, people who couldn't care less about seven dead astronauts and a trashed shuttle crying all day long. I've seen people initiate actual periods of mourning, people whose futures and dreams are one hundred percent tied up in space research and travel. I've seen a lot of people going "yeah, okay, whatever," or just ignoring it. And I've seen a few people asking why they should care, when people die every day, and any of us can find news stories of horrific tragedies resulting in the slow painful deaths of people who didn't sign on to what could well be a suicide mission--which all space travel should be considered. I've even seen a few people point out that after the missing lens in the Hubble telescope and the meters/feet idiocy with the Mars lander, you'd have to be a complete fool to put your life in the hands of a NASA engineer anyway. And of course I've seen people who just don't want to hear about it, thanks.

I've completely ignored it all day, but I guess I'd like to weigh in with my two cents now, and maybe take a swing at answering the question 'why should I care'.

Before we even start, I want you all to understand what it is that I think we should care about. I'm not saying you need to mourn the loss of these seven people. Each and everyone of them was very thoroughly briefed on the risks of their undertaking. Every single one of them knew before they left that there was a good chance they would not make it home alive, and I can only hope they made peace with their Gods before they ever lifted off. No, the loss of seven members of the human race is not a problem, in and of itself, and they were seven among many that died today.

However, there is something that should be noted about these seven people, that I think a lot of people overlook. Now, you can call me an elitist, but I think that this sort of thing counts. Each of them had undergone extensive testing of their intellect, their reaction time, their affability, their learning curve, their physical capability, their physical fitness, and a plethora of other things. But ever so much more importantly, each and every one of them had something sadly lacking in the rest of society (and I mean society as a whole) these days: The willingness to explore, to take risks, to "put your balls out there," as it has been said. Each of them was willing to put their lives on the line in an attempt to gain knowledge for their entire species.

And that's really what I'm getting at. Say what you want about the human race. I say that the potential exists within it to accomplish anything. I say that we, each of us, is the master of our own reality, the Gods of our own personal creation. If you disagree with me, that's great, but you're wrong, and I'm sorry you're so misguided. If humanity truly wants to go to the stars, then the stars themselves will move closer, that our goal might be more easily attained.

And if we don't, then we are doomed. Every day this planet gets a little more crowded, and a little more polluted. And we the people are like rats being crammed into a tiny little box, only the box gets smaller every day. The resources are fading, and everyone here is lost in their own little lives, concerned only with maintaining the status quo and maybe getting a little bit more back at the end of the day. When you suggest the possibilty of the US government collapsing, people sneer at you. Not because the possibility doesn't exist, but because they can't contemplate anything else.

Ladies and gentlemen, I truly believe that we have maxed out our potential on this planet. Someone told me we have 2.6 billion years to get off Terra before the sun explodes, and I laughed at them. Humanity will not live to see the year 3000 if it does not relieve some of the pressure, and by God this is the only way we have left.

And today we saw another stumble along the path. Another sigh, another 'back to the drawing board', and around the world people believe just a little bit less in the possibility of ever leaving this ball of mud. Consensual reality changes just a little bit, and makes it that much harder for those of us who're willing to believe to ... well ... believe.

So. Mourn seven dead humans? No. Mourn the loss of seven people who were better than almost all of us, and if you take exception to being classified as less than them because they were astronauts, go out and do something that will leave a mark on the world. (Those of you who have already done so, please don't think you're included in that. Please also take note that I personally am included in that.)

Mourn the loss of a space shuttle, the results of which may never have affected your life personally? No. Mourn the loss of hope, even just a little bit. Mourn the echoing sound of another nail driven home into the coffin of your entire species.

(2/2/2003 1:00am)

LiveJournal/Copyright

2010-02-07T11:58:00.004-08:00

There was some talk in one of my classes recently about copyright, and I know a few people were asking about the Terms of Service over at LiveJournal - specifically, there's a rumor floating the internets that LJ owns your content as soon as it goes live. Anyway I was a little curious myself, having put up a fair amount of content there over the years, so I decided to take a look. As it turns out, the TOS explicitly says no to that in section XIV, "Journal Content":

1. All Content posted to LiveJournal in any way, is the responsibility and property of the author. [...]

3. LiveJournal claims no ownership or control over any Content posted by its users. The author retains all patent, trademark, and copyright to all Content posted within available fields, and is responsible for protecting those rights, but is not entitled to the help of the LiveJournal staff in protecting such Content. [...]

Immediately after reading that I remembered the number of times over the years I've seen them (or someone on their behalf) cite common carrier status, so I guess I really should have known this already. Well, actually, I guess I did, but had kind of forgotten. Either way, it's useful information for certain writer/editor types (and kind of a relief for me, since that's where most of my previously-written fiction currently resides).

Las Vegas, Day 5: Street Teens

2010-01-30T18:36:00.002-08:00

On our final day in Las Vegas, we arrived at a small drop-in center roughly an hour before they opened for the day. The facility is called Street Teens and recently appeared on the reality show "Secret Millionaire," which resulted in them receiving a sizable amount of money which will be funding their new facility.

The building feels more like a house than anything else - beyond the reception area is a spacious and well-stocked kitchen, in which anyone dropping in is welcome to make any food they find. Beyond the kitchen is a living room, complete with several recliners and a few old-style big-screen televisions. Deeper into the facility there is a bunk room, in which teens are allowed to nap (though no one spend the night; the building is zoned as commercial space and is not a shelter). There is also a supply room, from which teens are invited to take a certain amount of clothing and hygiene on a weekly basis, plus some more items (such as sleeping bags and tents) annually. Throughout the facility are several large bathrooms complete with showers.

The rules of conduct are complex, plentiful, and posted throughout the building on colorful reminder posters. In essence, they boil down to this: Check your quarrels - literally, if you're carrying weapons - at the door. No matter what the tension, you are not allowed to act on it within the building, or you could find yourself temporarily or permanently banned. Beyond that, teens are simply requested to be civil, and to relax.

Street Teens was started by a man who had a brilliant idea. He died shortly thereafter, but I can report that his vision is being carried out. We left before the center actually opened, as most of the clients would have found our presence off-putting (and rightly so), but the sense of community felt by the teens who drop in was writ large in the decor and the mood of the building. Street Teens feels a lot like StandUp for Kids, because they aren't trying to save the world. They just make people's lives a little better. This is an admirable goal, and I recommend them as a model to be emulated.

Las Vegas, Day 4: LGBT Center

2010-01-30T18:22:00.002-08:00

After our delightful reality check at the rape crisis center, we picked up another bus and headed for The Gay and Lesbian Community Center of Southern Nevada. The shift in atmosphere was somewhat abrupt, but the center was extremely inviting, and please to have us visiting, which made the transition relatively painless. From the public internet terminals in the lobby to the comfortable seating in the reading library, the center is remarkably welcoming to its target population.

We received some information about the center's programs, but I think the most important are the ones that fall under the category of teen outreach. This is, we were told, the only GLBT center in Nevada, and some teens have been known to spend hours bussing in from outlying areas to get there. The space devoted to teen programs was large and well-used, but also both comfortable and comforting. I suspect, from what I've seen, that people coming to terms with their sexuality in as socially conservative a state as Nevada would be delighted to find a place where they can feel normal, and the center does its best to facilitate this.

STD testing is also provided on site for all ages, and though they do not provide counseling facilities on site, they are more than willing to make referrals, according to the woman who runs that program. In other words, they will never turn anyone away, but do their best to suggest that frequent fliers consider making changes to their lifestyle. It strikes me that this advice likely feels, in these situations, as though it were coming from an older sibling - the attitude in the center is friendly and anything but preachy.

Similarly, the condom closet is accessible to everyone, and is kept stuffed to the brim at all times. It was noted to us that they had just received their regular order of 20,000 condoms, which they will go through in a few months. Consistent and plentiful condom availability seems to be an active goal for the organization, and I have to say that I wholeheartedly endorse this. The people running this facility seem to know what they're doing, and I wish them much success in the future.

Las Vegas, Day 4: Rape Crisis Center

2010-01-30T13:40:00.004-08:00

Thursday, January 14th, we gathered in the morning and traveled to a rape crisis center at a local hospital. Upon arrival, we trooped in en masse, filling their small offices to the brim. The presentation was brief, as this facility featured many of the same services as the other rape crisis agencies we've interviewed: The hotline is 24 hours, advocates work with patients, legal help is available, etc.

What stands out in memory is the information our speaker gave us on working with children. First, it was pointed out that although they are required to call in child services if a violent situation involved a minor, they are not actually required to know the patient's age. If the patient gives them any indication of how old she is, they can't pretend they didn't hear it - but they don't have to ask.

I know some of my friends and readers are social workers, and I mean no disrespect to them when I say this, but I'm confident that I'm not the only person who considers the involvement of child welfare agents to be a detriment to the healing process in many situations. Certainly not all situations, but ... well, "the system" needs some fine-tuning. That sentiment was certainly echoed by everyone who spoke to us about dealing with assault victims. So here we are in a situation where the preferable choice is to treat a sixteen year old trauma survivor as an adult, making no special dispensation to the fact that she is not yet an adult, or call in an overworked government organization that often seems to be teetering on the brink of collapse.

I guess what I'm saying is that we're doing something wrong. By we, I mean society.

Another example is the childhood outreach program. There are two programs, based on age. Grades 6-12 are given training on safety, prevention, and awareness, all focused on dating & sexual violence. Grades K-5 are given age-appropriate information that teaches them how to recognize "abuse" in general - the word "sex" is never used. This is because of the legislation in Nevada - even aside from the abstinence only issue, counselors are not permitted to approach children below grade six about signs of abuse. They have to wait for the child to come to them. This is because - I am not making this up, mind you, this is directly from our presenter - too many young children were being discovered who had suffered abuse, and it was embarrassing.

So the directive was given to stop looking.

The English language does not contain words appropriate to discussing my feelings on this, so I am going to leave it at that. Too many abused children were being found, so they just stopped trying to find them.

I will never live in Nevada.

Las Vegas, Day 3: Erotic Heritage Museum

2010-01-29T07:13:00.002-08:00

I spent the morning of Wednesday, January 13th, in a rather unfortunate state due to my selection of dinner venue the night before. As such I was forced to miss a panel presentation that I have been told was quite touching. Later in the day I was able to drag myself out of my room and meet up with the group at the Erotic Heritage Museum, and I am very very glad I did so.

The EHM was originally put together as a doctoral thesis project, which thankfully continues to be maintained largely by donations from members and patrons. The building contains countless exhibits revealing humanity's history of eroticism, from pornography to art to exact reproductions of porn star genitalia in rubber (yes, really). The exhibits span throughout the years, from the old "French post cards" (think Brighton Beach Memoirs) to modern paintings, as well as photography, video, sculpture, comic books, literature, and so forth.

The spacious building is jam-packed with exhibits, and by all accounts they have many, many more that they rotate in and out - I believe "25 warehouses full" was the quantity mentioned during our tour. In order to see everything, one has to examine every inch of the building, even the elevator. In order to truly appreciate everything, I suspect one has to come back several times.

I don't know how long I wandered about; frankly I was in a daze. I am in awe of this project, and delighted by the treasure trove of information represented by it. Photography of the exhibits is not just allowed but encouraged; I took a variety of pictures that I will be making available soon.

I don't really know how to explain this, I think, because it's a museum - if you could capture the experience in text, there really wouldn't need to be a whole building. All I can say is that anyone who goes to Las Vegas should take the time to see this museum. Anyone who goes near Las Vegas should make a detour to see this museum. Anyone who is not going anywhere near Las Vegas in the near future should consider making plans to do so, expressly to see this museum. I do not exaggerate here - this experience alone is worth the trip.

Las Vegas, Day 2: UNLV Panel (only warning: most links NSFW)

2010-01-28T17:53:00.006-08:00

On the evening of Tuesday January 12th, we travelled to the campus of The University of Nevada, Las Vegas. There, we attended a panel on sex work put together by Susan Lopez of the Desiree Alliance. The panelists were Lopez herself, as well as Crystal Jackson, Holly P, Jennifer Reed, Laurenn McCubbin, Dr. Lynn Comella, Dr. Barb Brents, Jennifer Heineman, and Crysta Heart. I don't presume a full understanding of all their credentials, but it was noted that some have direct experience with sex work, some have worked as exotic dancers, and at least one has an active career in pornography. Most were academics of varying levels, and some cases had entered the study of sex work purely through academic channels.

The panel ran for about two hours, and was a remarkable experience; my only complaint is that I wish we could have stayed much later. Lest I seem ungrateful, I rush to note that all present were very generous with their time, and I greatly appreciate their consideration.

Obviously I can't repeat all the information that was covered, but I do have notes on several aspects of the presentation that intrigued me. First and foremost, I greatly enjoyed McCubbin's presentation on her ongoing project, Vegas LadyBiz. Anyone who has been to Las Vegas is familiar with the "hooker cards" handed out on the strip - small, colorful cards picturing women, often naked behind black censorship strips, offering to have that particular woman meet you in your hotel room for sex. It was noted by McCubbin that most of the cards handed out on the strip picture women gleaned from porn sites, but she did note that in taxis, where the rules governing what could be shown are more relaxed (if indeed extant at all), one could find more explicit cards that tended to show the person one would actually reach via the advertised contact methods.

At any rate, the LadyBiz project is essentially a fake version of these cards. McCubbin printed out several thousand cards, and handed them out on the strip. She also had t-shirts printed, and placed an ad on a billboard truck. The ads all pointed to a website where, when one clicks through to one's choice of woman, one finds an interview (often audio, sometimes video) with the sex worker pictured. (Using the phone number (877-LADYBIZ) instead results in a voicemail tree featuring the audio track from each interview.) These interviews are real people with complicated stories, McCubbin notes, not "drug users being pimped out" and not "hookers with a heart of gold." She wishes to start a dialogue, though of course one suspects that the majority of people following up on "hooker cards" are disinclined to discuss their activities. Though the voicemail tree does allow a caller to leave a message, none have yet arrived. Only one email has been received, saying only "Where's the hookers?" Still, on the day the cards were handed out, the web site received more than 1500 hits.

I asked a question that I had been looking forward to asking some authorities on the topic: How (if at all) will the recent changes in Nevada state legislation change the face of prostitution? Regarding male prostitutes, the current theory is that there is a market waiting to be tapped, but this is not necessarily the correct way to go about it. Since Nevada's brothels are legal only in counties with small populations, they are by definition in rural areas, which tend to be fairly conservative. This leads to resistance towards the obvious next idea of homosexual male prostitution, so the induction of male prostitutes to brothel work will be slow and cautious. It was suggested that the brothel industry is old and slow to adapt - while it understands men's sexuality reasonably well, it is now going to have to cater to female sexuality as well, which may cause a backlash.

On that topic, Lopez noted that ~~she~~ a friend of hers runs a forum for male sex workers and their female clients, which is fairly active. The frequent clients, she noted, are not just interested in buying sex - one can purchase a very life-like dildo if one so desires, so going to the trouble of hiring an escort implies a desire for more than just sex. One vocal client has noted that she looks for personality traits in an escort, because she wants to make sure he's going to be someone she can stand to spend an evening with. The assumption here is that male clients of female sex workers are not generally looking for that, which is an assumption I'm certainly not qualified to challenge.

Edit 3/6/10:Susan emailed me to point out that she does not run Concierge Dumonde, she just helped get it started. Sorry for the confusion.

The other aspect here is that, at least according to our panelists, male clients of sex workers - even of exotic dancers - tend to be after the "girlfriend experience," and are in fact needy in exactly the same way that women are accused of being needy. Those with experience dancing complained that clients would often want to vent some of their emotions once they were alone in the lap dance booth. One of the sex workers complained that many of her male clients ask to cuddle, which in a work situation she is not particularly inclined to do. Women, on the other hand, don't tend to want that sort of interaction with male sex workers, because that's not the purpose of the transaction.

There was also note about male exotic dancers: their experience tends to be very different from that of female dancers. They can get away with significantly more, to begin with - female dancers are not allowed to have any contact whatsoever with clients, but male dancers (or at least the clubs that employ them) often encourage the female clients to grab whatever they like. Male dancers also tend to make more money working gay clubs, apparently, as well as have significantly more relaxing evenings. Most male dancers complain about female audiences as being extremely demanding, and several note that they are unlikely to be able to wear a thong twice, because it is stretched beyond use or simply torn off. When the room kind of chuckled awkwardly at this point, one our panelists asked us to swap the genders and consider the statement again - if a female dancer had her thong torn off by a crowd of overeager males, the tone of the story is significantly different.

It was noted that the porn industry is, for the most part, losing money. The most commonly cited reasons are free porn sites and piracy. However, two aspects of the industry are experiencing growth during the recession - sex toys, and porn for women. The sex toy aspect is attributed to couples deciding during a recession that a fun evening out is too expensive compared to a one-time investment in sex toys leading to multiple fun evenings in.

As to the porn for women concept, it was noted that twenty years ago this would have been a laughable concept, which is seen as evidence that there's no way to know if there's a market for seemingly niche pornography until one tries to sell it. These days, Madison Young - who famously asked "just how many anal scenes does it take to open a feminist art gallery?" - has 26 movies coming out this year, is bringing a new style to directing, and was on the red carpet at AVN. Our panelists when so far as to say that seeing "butch dyke performers" at AVN - let alone on the red carpet - represents a massive change.

One final point: On the topic of ethnicity in the sex industry, we were informed that non-Caucasian sex workers tend to market themselves according to their race. One sex worker noted that she has had white clients ask if she has worked with clients of other races, who then refused to hire her after her affirmative answer because she was "tainted." Black women are the most likely to be arrested under anti-prostitution laws despite not representing a majority of the sex worker population. There have been a number of raids aimed at massage parlour operations under the guise of trafficking laws; these almost exclusively net Asian sex workers and (one panelist noted) merely succeed in trafficking them to jail cells. It was also noted that the aforementioned "hooker cards" tend to picture Caucasians with blonde hair exclusively; only in taxis can one find more "fetish" cards, advertising Blacks or Asians. It was also noted that "Asian" is almost never seen without the word "submissive" or "young," and that brothel "featured worker" lineups tend to be all Caucasians with one fetishized Asian.

Having gone well beyond my intended length, I will end this write up with a reiteration that I deeply enjoyed attending this panel. My thanks go out to everyone involved.

Las Vegas, Day 1: Sheri's Ranch

2010-01-26T14:53:00.000-08:00

On the morning of January 11th, we took a very long drive into the remarkably scenic desert surrounding Las Vegas to visit a brothel known as Sheri's Ranch (NSFW, duh). We were treated to lunch by several extremely friendly ladies, then given a tour of the main facility.

Unfortunately, the main facility is essentially limited to the public rooms in the front of the house. We did see the parlor, several variations on a jacuzzi room, and a well-appointed dungeon, but the rest of the complex was off limits. Through the windows in the parlor, we were able to see the spa, the big-money bungalows, and the pool. Down a side hall that we did not see are the private rooms where the majority of business is conducted.

The tour itself felt much like a commercial; as ours was coming to an end I noticed two other parties - presumably prospective customers - begin similar tours, and it became clear that this was essentially a sales pitch. Nevertheless, the ladies who conducted our tour were very welcoming, and forthcoming with what information they could share.

I guess what stuck with me was how remarkably straightforward the whole thing was. Sheri's is, after all, a business, and a fairly famous one at that. The staff is friendly and courteous, and seemed pleased to interact with the students. The parlor was luxuriously appointed and the bar was well (if subtly) lit and comfortable. The experience was not at all unpleasant - my thanks go out to everyone on staff at Sheri's who helped make this possible.

Los Angeles, Day 3: Peace Over Violence

2010-01-26T14:37:00.000-08:00

The morning of Friday the 8th, we traveled en masse to the offices of Peace Over Violence, formerly LACAAW. POV is an interesting organization, and has a distinctly L.A. sort of feel. They have many celebrities involved with their cause, and there is a certain amount of glitz to the materials we were presented. I think it should be noted that they are also very successful at raising awareness - this is, after all, the organization that sponsors Denim Day, an event marked even here in Potsdam. The presentation was informative, if slightly unstructured; I took away bits and pieces rather than an overall picture of the organization, but those pieces were useful indeed.

First is the tag line they use (or have used) in their televised PSAs. Each of the 15 second spots we were shown featured a woman dressed in what a puritan would call provocative - a low cut blouse, a short skirt, basically the way people dress - but the camera focused on those things, giving us the idea of a male perspective. In each situation - an elevator in an office, walking down the street, a rave-like dance party - the woman went about her business for some 10 seconds or so, then the text "This is not a reason to rape me." appeared on the screen. This campaign is, in my opinion, brilliant. It's a message that hits home not just because it is excellently put but because it needs to be said at all. Bravo to whomever came up with that slogan.

The second is awareness of an organization called Men Can Stop Rape, an organization that more people should be aware of. Staff and volunteers at rape crisis centers and rape awareness organizations are, by and large, female. The former may be understandable - the latter is not. I like the notion of an organization that is not just geared at getting men involved, but in placing a certain amount of responsibility on men to do so.

This leads nicely to the third thing I took from the meeting: A concept. You see, the statistic most often bandied about during this trip was that 85% of sexual violence involves a male aggressor and a female victim. Of that remaining 15%, an overwhelming majority of the victims are children. So rape is often considered a women's issue. But it simply isn't. Yes, 85% of the victims of rape are female. More than 85% of the aggressors - I don't have even overheard statistics on that, but I suspect we can agree on 90% at the least - are male. So I put it to every man out there that unless they're going to come down as being in favor of rape, they have a share in the responsibility to help put a stop to it. It's not a women's issue - it's a societal issue. The sooner we accept this, the sooner things can change.

Los Angeles, Day 2: StandUp For Kids

2010-01-11T22:08:00.003-08:00

Thursday, after the SART presentation, we went to Venice Beach to meet with some volunteers from StandUp For Kids. We had planned to meet at a facility they use, but due to flooding it was closed. Due to the weather at the beach - foggy, windy, and cold - the meeting was extremely brief, but some interesting information was covered.

According to our hosts, the SUFK procedure is pretty straightforward - wear the trademark purple hoodie, go to a place where homeless teens will be expecting you, and hand out what you have - mostly food packs, clothing, condoms, and hygiene products. Beyond that, they offer non-judgemental social interaction, and not much else.

What stuck with me about this was their definition of success. They stressed that they although they had gotten three teens "off the streets" - placed at a job, renting a clean room, etc - that was it, just the three, over the course of several years. That's not their definition of success. To them, success is one of their teens using a condom the next time they have sex, or not mugging someone for food.

This speaks to me. This is not idealism, and it is not saving the world. This is just trying to make lives suck a little less. I can get behind this idea.

Las Vegas: Initial Impressions

2010-01-10T21:09:00.005-08:00

Driving in to Atlantic City is an interesting experience. You spend most of the drive looking at dingy abandoned buildings, everything in grey, no signs of life. You arrive at the boardwalk and suddenly you're surrounded by capitalist glitz, neon lights and garishly bright carpets. It shows me the priorities of the human race, and it fills me with an intense loathing for the sickness of the species.

If Atlantic City is a tumor, Las Vegas has metastasized and taken over. In the middle of a desert, lakes of water are maintained for the sake of light shows. Visibility seems to be better at night than during the day. People clog the streets, cheerfully drunk, throwing money away with reckless abandon.

We went to the Bellagio tonight for gelato, and I was amused at the insanely posh atmosphere as we wandered through the hotel. The gelato itself was as delightful as promised, and we stepped outside to watch the fountain show, which I found interesting but overhyped. Crossing the walkway towards Ceasar's Palace, I saw a man huddled on the concrete, bucket out and standard sign, and it sank in exactly how truly fucked this city is.

I am not a softhearted man. I am not prone to coddling members of society unable to fend for themselves. But on a macro scale, the priorities of this species blow my mind. One day of the income from any one of these casinos could feed - and clothe, and provide medical treatment for - thousands upon thousands of people. The energy used on any given one of these enormous TV-screen billboards could power a school for a week.

A few days ago I was outside Staples Center in downtown Los Angeles with several people. While we were sitting around, several of us smoking cigarettes, a small Hispanic man walked slowly and shakily up to us. He mimed the motion of a cigarette, then shuffled off when none of us responded. I don't know if he can't speak, or doesn't speak, or just doesn't bother. I saw him only from the corner of my eye. One of my companions, who was facing him during this event, does not remember his existence at all. As I watched him walk away, I realized that he wasn't wearing shoes, just an over-large T-shirt and too-long jeans worn to strips at the ankle.

We don't even see these people. We refuse to make eye contact, we ignore them when they speak. I don't care about their circumstances. I don't care about them as individuals. I just care that this is an entire portion of our species that we just write off. We could have the means to at least offer them lives, but we can't be bothered to so much as take our revelry down a notch.

I don't have any answers. I'm not even sure I have questions. I just have disgust.

Las Vegas is not my kind of town.

Los Angeles: Impressions

2010-01-10T20:18:00.003-08:00

L.A. is an ugly city. Or perhaps it's just depressingly plain. There is nothing appealing about it - when you come at it from the right angle there's no breaktaking skyline, just a huge mass of lights. Hollywood lacks any appeal for me; it's just crowded and expensive. Perhaps I am old. Perhaps I am curmudgeonly. Perhaps I just don't like L.A. I just know that I could never live in this city.

All that being said, we decided if we were going to enjoy L.A., we would do it properly, so we rented a convertible.

I did enjoy Venice Beach. I was there twice, and the latter experience is best described as a brief orgy of capitalism coupled with the hemorrhaging of money. The first, however, was quite enjoyable despite the fog and cold. I was fresh off the heels of a brief meeting with Stand Up For Kids, which I'll talk about in another post, and quite conscious of the indigent population, which was very visible at the time. Passing a group of clearly homeless teens and several dogs sitting in a circle, playing cards and telling stories, was sheer anthropological tourism bliss.

I'm not sure what else to say. We drove by the Santa Monica Pier and were positively repulsed by the quantity of people; beyond that I was just happy to be in the only corner of the country that wasn't ten degrees below zero this week.

Summaries of my other meetings are still to follow. That's not an empty promise; I have to write these up for class.

Los Angeles, Day 2: SART

2010-01-10T14:06:00.002-08:00

Thursday morning, we met with several representatives of the local Sexual Assault Response Team: Alma Moreno, director of sexual assault services at the YWCA, Mickey Milton, senior site manager for the Compton YWCA SART location, Andrea Wilson from Providence Little Company of Mary, and Vanessa from the YWCA whose last name and title I regrettably did not note.

In brief, they covered the history of the SART program, which started in 1998 with the realization that rape victims were frequently made to wait at length in hospital ERs based entirely on the urgency of their physical injuries. The new procedure involved bringing in forensic nurses to handle the exams, and arranging for alternate locations for treatment. The SART facility that we visited was separate from the main hospital in a breast clinic, featuring three well-appointed rooms where exams are done, police reports are filed, and counselors are consulted – in essence, preventing the patient from having to repeat their story several times. An advocate is brought in immediately, and stays with the patient throughout the experience.

The Compton YWCA facility also features self-defense classes, a 24 hour crisis hotline, counseling, and prevention education. The staff includes a social worker, a therapist, counseling interns, a SART coordinator who maintains the schedule of all relevant personnel, and community educators. All services are free to all patients, and they work with anyone 12 years or older regardless of gender.

The thing that stuck with me the most during this was the fact that this program didn't start until 1998. That means that for nearly two thirds of my lifetime, rape patients were left sitting in ER waiting rooms, with no privacy and insufficient treatment from people who didn't know what they were doing. That, I'll remind you, is the timeline here in LA – in other places in this country, that is still the case. I find this, shall we say, objectionable. There is a perception that we live in an enlightened society, but I think it obvious that we have a long, long way to go.

Los Angeles, Day 1

2010-01-08T21:50:00.004-08:00

Norma Jean Almodovar is an ex-LAPD officer, retired call girl, published author, and outspoken political activist. After a moment or two in her presence it becomes apparent that she is brilliant, passionate, committed, and crazy as hell. Norma Jean was kind enough to allow a few dozen college students to invade her house this past Wednesday and share with us some of her wisdom and experiences.

In essence, Norma Jean's question is this: Why should prostitution be illegal? The most common argument is that no one would turn to the occupation except in the case of desperation or external force. Essentially regarding every member of the profession as a victim, subject to constant rape, this is often coupled with some reference to the enslavement of children for sexual purposes.

It is Norma Jean's opinion that this viewpoint includes an essential refusal to accept any woman's competence, or right to choose her own path, by lumping them all in with children. She asserts that most of the practitioners of this vocation, at least here in the United States, became involved by choice. I do not wish to overly romanticize this notion, of course. If a woman chooses to enter sex work for the purpose of feeding her children, that is unfortunate. Yet I am quite prepared to argue that under many circumstances, this is a better option than, say, long hours at a menial job for minimum wage.

It is for this reason that Norma Jean feels the current law enforcement strategy of arresting consenting adult prostitutes is an absurd waste of money. Every arrest and prosecution costs thousands upon thousands of dollars, not to mention the time and energy of the law enforcement and judicial workers involved, all of which would be better spent helping those who have been forced into sex work, or (just a thought) tracking down rapists and murderers.

The other obvious argument is for public health, and in this case Norma Jean did her best to dispel the myth. Despite the cinematic cliche of disease-ridden prostitutes carelessly spreading their infection, prostitutes are businesspeople. They protect their assets. One does not get repeat customers if one spreads STIs willy-nilly, and given the underground nature of the work, success in the industry is often based on reputation. One cannot sell what no one is willing to buy. Norma Jean put forth the statistic that less than 5% of the sex worker population has an STI; I cannot vouch for this but she makes a compelling case.

Many other topics were covered, including a few interesting condom tricks - I may or may not have a hilarious video to post at some point in the future - but the point that stood out to me the most is in regard to the 'we have to protect the children' notion. First, adult males who prefer sex with children are unlikely to hire adult prostitutes, for obvious reasons. Therefore, there is no connection between the safety of these children and the arrest of adult prostitutes. If there were a connection, it would go the other way - removing the adult alternative would make the children the only available option. Second, if we really are trying to protect and rescue these children, in what way is it at all logical to arrest them? We bring them in to custody in shackles, subject them to the tender mercies of the penal system, leave permanent marks on their records that will make them ineligible for things like decent jobs - this is protection? This is rescue? I think not.

We can do better. And we should start. Now.

Upcoming Travel

2009-12-31T10:24:00.004-08:00

In a few days, I'm leaving for Los Angeles, then on to Las Vegas. This is for a class in the Community Health department called "Sex in the City." We'll be meeting with representatives from the AIM Healthcare Foundation, Stand Up For Kids, Peace Over Violence, Street Teens, Planned Parenthood, Sheri's Ranch, the Public Health Department, a rape crisis center, and several other organizations and individuals. We're also going to the Erotic Heritage Museum. On our off days we'll be checking out the Grand Canyon and either Catalina or Hollywood (depending on who wins that particular argument). Also, there's a regular Rocky Horror show in Vegas that I have every intention of seeing. So, long story short, this is going to be more than a little awesome.

I will be blogging, probably daily, about my experiences. Because some of this subject matter is a little intense, I'll be putting disclaimers in the beginning of posts if there's potentially triggering material contained therein. If you think you're likely to have a problem reading about certain things, you should give entries that contain those things a pass.

On a side note, I have also double checked that Facebook and Twitter can be updated from my cell phone, although I don't know if I'll actually get around to using them.

If you're in that neck of the woods, and you want to get together, let me know, and we'll try to work something out.

pow

2009-10-18T19:48:00.002-07:00

A deer hit my car today.

You always hear people complaining that the deer hit them, it wasn't their fault, etc etc. In this case I'm going to have to say that there's no other way of putting it. I was driving down a small back road in central New York, a good thirty miles from cell reception in any direction. On my left was a tall bank sort of thing, well above the top of my car. A deer leapt off that, and was apparently intending to go across the road, but hit the hood of my car, instead. From what I can tell - keep in mind I didn't see her until just before she hit me - she didn't actually touch the road at any point. She bounced off the front of my car and went sailing off into the grass on the right side.

She died right away, thankfully, and even better my car did not - my hood is a different shape now, I lacerated myself nicely on the broken glass from my headlight, and I'm rockin' the college student vehicle with the missing grill cover in front, but that was it. All of the damage was to the front five inches of the car, and no impairment at all to the functioning. Since the car is destined for a scrap heap come spring anyway, I guess I'll just tie off the hood and hope she makes it through one more winter.

It was such a surreal experience. No warning whatsoever - just a deer soaring into my field of vision at a downward angle, then blam, and it just kind of twisted off to the right. It reminded me of nothing so much as some weird roadkill video game, all strange angles and utterly pointless. I've been in cars that have struck deer before - it's part of life in these parts - but it's never been so incredibly random. I'm not even sure what a deer was doing running around at 11:30 in the morning - I thought they liked dawn and dusk!

As my friend Hanne is fond of saying, better luck next time around the Great Wheel, deer.

i love this country

2009-08-08T07:51:00.004-07:00

Today I pulled in to Wegmans to grab some breakfast, and I was amused by the cars opposite me: a hearse, all somber and black, parked next to a big blue pickup with a panther airbrushed on the cab.

When I came out, I saw two men, obviously brothers, leaning against those cars. Both were stocky, bearded, and mostly bald in the same way. The one leaning on the hearse wore a dark suit, dark shades, and a crisp white shirt. The one leaning on the truck wore cutoffs and a flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off. They were engaged in an animated and obviously friendly conversation.

I have no clever summary here, because I'm just too amused. I love finding weird sights like that.

Bicycle Graveyard III

2009-05-31T19:19:00.002-07:00

Bicycle Graveyard III
Originally uploaded by infodump.

After nearly two years off, I finally got around to renewing my Flickr pro account. I also put up a few new sets: some piles of junk from a disused sawmill, various classic cars and piles of junk from a car show and swapmeet, and a time-lapse sunset I shot a few years ago. Enjoy.

Citation Needed

2009-03-29T18:28:00.001-07:00

Citation Needed
Originally uploaded by infodump.

Hey, neat. I just noticed a comment (from over a year ago, it looks like) that this picture is being used on a guide to citation software. That's kind of cool.

going first

2009-02-25T16:54:00.003-08:00

One interesting thing I've noticed in my time back in school: I'm no longer afraid of presentations. Well, maybe that's not quite the right word - I don't know that I was ever afraid of such things - but I know I used to experience a certain reluctance. This evolved - when I started in the world of higher education[1] I would put stuff off, skip class to avoid it, the usual childish crap. Then by the time I finished I would usually be willing to actually do the things required of me to pass my classes, but I would wait until dead last so I could just rush through it and be done. When I finish my associate's a few years ago, I did the only required presentation in, I think, the second available time slot, but only because I wanted to get the unpleasantness over with quickly, and I was so nervous I almost swallowed my tongue.

But here I am, older and wiser[2], and I find my stage fright essentially gone. I go first in presentations now because I might as well get the ball rolling, but why would I be scared? I know what I'm talking about, and I know how to speak. And if I make an ass of myself, the world will move on, and my life will probably not be significantly altered by it.

I don't know what caused this change, but it's a welcome one.

1: Twelve years ago! Egad.
2: Hey, 1 is greater than 0, even if the scale goes to 11.

"don't vote"

2008-10-03T03:27:00.001-07:00

In other news ...

2008-09-10T20:46:00.002-07:00

http://hasthelargehadroncolliderdestroyedtheworldyet.com/

Public Service Announcement

2008-07-28T18:19:00.002-07:00

an announcement

2008-07-15T01:23:00.002-07:00

So it's official - Erin has been accepted to SUNY Potsdam for the fall semester. Consequently, we'll be moving up there by the end of the summer. Donations of snow chains, firewood, or job leads are welcome.

2008-07-04T12:22:00.002-07:00

My favorite July 4th message, stolen from Blackbriar seven years ago:

This nation has come a long way from its origins, 232 years ago today, when our rights were being violated by an unelected, mentally deficient, hereditary dictator named George.

Fly your flags proudly!

music recommendation

2008-05-27T23:21:00.002-07:00

I recently acquired a long-awaited CD from a friend of mine, and was asked to do some sort of review of it. I've been putting this off for a few weeks, hoping to come up with something to say that sounds even remotely review-like, but it turns out I don't actually have any idea where to begin. So I figure screw it - I'm just going to recommend it instead.

The friend in question is Michelle Dockrey, and her last CD Shadowbeast (created by the new-defunct Escape Key) has long been one of my favorites. The new band is known as Vixy & Tony, and their inaugural CD Thirteen continues to blow me away every time I listen to it.

I keep seeing the word 'lush' tossed around in relation to this album, and I can't seem to think of a better description myself. There's a little something for everyone here, from simple folk to electric rock, with side trips to blues foundations and a Nick Cave cover. There is quite literally something here for every mood. I'm tempted to recommend specific tracks for consideration, but I might as well just print the track listing - instead, I'm going to recommend that you listen to the samples posthaste, either at CD Baby or through iTunes.

Seriously, why are you still here? Go! Listen!

Weird Trio

2008-05-10T11:37:00.002-07:00

Weird Trio
Originally uploaded by infodump.

This is neat - I got a Flickrmail asking if someone could use this photograph from a few Halloweens ago for a book proposal called "The Traveling Thumb", which the author is apparently hoping will become one of those clever coffee table books. Obviously I said go for it - I like the idea of one of my photos (even this one) possibly making its way into a coffee table book.

LJ FTL

2008-04-24T21:42:00.002-07:00

Okay, I knew LiveJournal was going downhill in a fashion consistent with one of those rapidly growing snowballs that you see in cartoons, but seriously. Advisory board elections? Say goodnight, Gracie.

Verve Earth

2008-04-24T00:17:00.003-07:00

Some time ago I received an email invitation to participate in a new site called VerveEarth. The idea is fairly simple - essentially it's a geographically indexed search tool for blogs, with entries represented on a Google-Maps-style world map. It reminds me a little of The ORG from back in the beginning, although to be fair that site went places I never expected (and didn't have time to keep up with).

It's a simple idea with a simple interface, and I kind of like it. There's something to be said for plotting ourselves out on a map, if for no other reason than to see how we all fit together. I often think that I'm alone in Rochester, but of course with the relatively heavy concentration of tech industries here - to say nothing of RIT! - that's simply untrue. In time, this is the kind of tool that will prove it.

If you maintain a blog that at all concerns the city you're in - or, really, even if it doesn't - you should consider registering. Either way, please click the widget in the side bar to scope my entry there, and help move that depressing little 'Visits: 0' counter up a bit.

Now if we can just convince Metblogs that Rochester is worth their time ...

this picture is going to give me nightmares

2008-04-16T17:29:00.003-07:00

Front page story from today's Democrat & Chronicle Living section: Nurses visit the homes of low-income parents to offer parenting tips. Being a good little liberal, I think that's pretty cool. But this picture, by D&C staff photographer Jeffrey Blackwell? This picture speaks a thousand words and then some.

I can only assume that you see what I'm referring to. If not, look at the new mother's face. Just take a moment to really soak in that expression.

I ... just ... wow.

Sad Kermit

2008-04-13T21:52:00.004-07:00

I posted almost exactly a year ago about the first Sad Kermit video, which received a mixed reaction from my friends - some of you loved it, some of you hated it. Personally I consider it genius, but my favorite part is watching the faces of people as they see it for the first time.

I loaded the Sad Kermit site last night to do just that, and it turns out they have a new video, this time for their cover of Elliott Smith's Needle in the Hay. It turns out this video is really good, and while I certainly wouldn't classify it as 'not disturbing', it's actually a very well-done homage to the bathroom scene in Royal Tenenbaums. Even if you decided to give the first one a pass, you should see this one. (Although it will be funnier if you've seen the first one.)

Me

2008-04-13T21:22:00.002-07:00

Me
Originally uploaded by infodump.

Holy crap it's a picture of me that I don't hate.