Larry Simon things that purchasing bongs over the Internet is an affrontery to American ingenuity and supports recent federal crackdowns on it based on that and on utter contempt of Chong of Cheech & Chong.
Slate has an interesting article on a racist pit-bull. It's not surprising at all to me. My old little mutt didn't like little kids, but this girl down the street of dark Colombian heritage seemed to get it worst of all. Here's the hit quote:
Most dog owners and people of color will admit (bashfully or forcefully, depending) that dog racism exists. Many non-pet-owners (and Cartesians) will sniff disdainfully. Racism requires malice aforethought, they'll say. Dogs can't think, therefore they can't be racist.
Nonsense, says Dr. Nicholas Dodman, a professor at Tufts University School of Veterinary Medicine and author of several books on animal behavior, most recently If Only They Could Speak. "Any behavioralist knows that dogs don't like subsets of people," he says, and though the most common subsets are broad—strange men or little children—"sometimes it can be quite specific. It could be tall men, or men with beards. It might be men who are wearing big shoes, might be as subtle as men who smoke cigarettes—which can be hard to pick up on—but it can also be black guys."
I know a dog that becomes very upset when it's around a man in a ball cap. One would imagine that's related to a bad experience that she had with someone so attired, though not always. With minorities, it's often just lack of exposure. During those crucial months (mentioned in the article), what they are exposed to is likely what they will be comfortable with for the rest of their lives. If they spend that time in a pound, they are likely to be much tougher to train and acclamate to people of any sort, much less those that look "different."
So the lesson for minorities would mainly be to make sure they get puppies or dogs that are familiar with people that look like they do, or it could make it that much tougher.
Also, I should stress the importance of training your dog. Preferably with an interactive training system in which the instructor teaches you how to train your dog (instead of shipping them off somewhere and hoping that they come back a brand new pup). Even anti-social dogs behavior improves if you have trained them.
When I woke this morning at 7:00AM, I staggered to my computer to read over my normal morning websites. I went to Fark and was greeted by the news that Fred Rogers, of PBS's "Mister Rogers" fame, had died. As a child, I watched his program as often as possible, for reasons I'm only now beginning to understand. Upon reflection today, I realized that he stands, in my heart and mind, as one of my true heroes. More than Sunday School, more than Sesame Street, more than any number of bible lessons ever could have done, he taught me to share, to see worth in all things, and to accept others no matter what. "Love yourself, and others", was his message, and I can only hope that it will echo down the passage of time to the ears of future generations.
The world was a better place for his being in it, and I will do my best to follow his example.
Maiwenn thinks that we here at No-Lyfe would know all about the difference between being a nerd and a geek. On our egroup, she asks:
Don't mean to go completely off topic, but I have a question that has REALLY been nagging me for the past month. And I'm pretty confident YOU guys are the ones who can clear it up for me. What (if any) is the difference between a Nerd and a Geek? And, has the status of the nerd/geek been raised in society lately?? I'm rather confused about the society one o_O;;. Last week I was walking around a very popular group of girls in my school and couldn't help to overhear that one called herself a "geek" because she liked LOTR and Harry Potter. On another occasion, I saw a football player in my class proclaim himself a "geek" because he was taking basic computer classes. Now you would think that they were mocking their hobbies when they said this, but surprisingly they were very proud to call themselves a nerd/geek. In fact, they repeated it several times in the course of that week. Call me old-fashioned, but back in my day a geek/nerd was shunned by society and mocked in the locker room for his/her obsessions with technology,knowledge,books, or all three. Once I tried to call myself a geek since I found out I spent most of my weekends either in band,on the internet,watching anime,in robotics,or doing homework.However, I had a friend who begged to differ since he programmed in his spare time, played EverCrack(EverQuest),and read comic books;proclaiming himself the title of "L33T G33K". Has the status of the geek slightly raised itself in our community such that our children of the future will say, " Mommy, when I grow up I wanna be a geek!" Well, I'm probably laying it pretty thick with that reference, but please, enlighten me on this subject.
I thought I'd take this opportunity to extrapolate on the difference.
Though there is an overlap in usage, nerdism is basically related to intelligence and geekism is related to hobbies. I would say one qualifies as a nerd when their intelligence outweighs their social skills. Therefore the smarter you are, the more likely you are to be a nerd. If you're super-duper smart, you can actually be an affable nerd. In fact, the smarter you are the more likely you are because you're more likely to be able to retain an encyclopediec memory and also learn the people skills that may not come very naturally to you.
A geek, on the other hand, can be just as stupid as anyone else. What makes them a geek is their near-obsessive interest in the minutae of things that no one else cares very much about and the extent to which they let this intrude on their life. For instance, someone who answers a jury summons in a Star Trek uniform is a geek and probably not one of the smart variety. Anime fans have its share of geeks. Not those who go to conventions, mind you, but those who don't lead more ordinary lives once they leave the convention and turn off their TV.
Like I said, though, there is a strong overlap in usage and this is because there is a strong overlap in demographics. Both nerds and geeks are likely to have higher intelligence than the population at large. Thus many geeks are also nerds because their intelligence will FAR outweigh their social capabilities. Many nerds are geeks because their minds are more bogged down in academic pursuits.
Computer fanatics have been considered geeks in times past, but I've noticed that as computers become more commonplace and more people use them, that's become less the case. This especially becomes more true the older you get when almost everyone has a computer at work and/or home and your knowledge is appreciated by some of the most unlikely of sources (I get shophands asking me for computer advice all the time). So most computer technical people are, if anything, a nerd rather than a geek. If one programs, however, they specialize in the minutae and therefore are more likely to be geeks in other aspects of life (anyone uninterested in minutae is unlikely to become a programmer). Computer engineers (and engineers of other sorts) are also quite possibly geeks to whatever extent they let their interest in physics, chemicals, and electrical circuits dictate the rest of their day. The more narrow the interest, the more likely they are to be a geek.
For example, I'll take one of the main characters from a novel I recently wrote, Something So Perfect. Brad Carter is a computer networking consultant. He had a stellar academic career and is quite obviously intelligent and astute. Though he is known for being a little bit aloof and is not the most social person in the world, most people that know him enjoy his company and think he's friendly, if a bit private. If he wasn't as smart as he was, he'd escape the "nerd" label for being an introverted guy, but since his intelligence outstrips his charisma, he doesn't. Though he got a degree Physics, he found a niche working on a specific network server operating system. While this wouldn't make him a geek, but his apartment is laden with computers he's bought from people he's worked for and his elaborate set-up indicates that he takes his interest in the obsolete OS to geek levels. On the other hand, since he has a keen awareness of how little other people are interested in it, he doesn't talk endlessly about it, so he's a geek, though not as much a geek as a nerd.
Contrast this with Nick Clayton, a character from my second novel. Nick is a very private person, but not nearly as intelligent as Brad, so the fact that he's not very social does not inflict him with nerd status. He doesn't have many interests that are out of the norm, so he is not a geek. If Nick were an avid fan of Anime, had scrolls on his wall, and made inside Neon Genesis Evangelion jokes to anyone and everyone who would listen, he would be a geek without being a nerd.
So your jock friend is most likely misusing the term. He may be a "geek" according to the norms of his peer group (fellow jocks) if and only if he finds computers to be interesting (instead of taking it out of necessity), but most people wouldn't view him as such. If he excels in computers without much effort, though, he may be a nerd.
One is not a geek if they like LOTR and Harry Potter, as those were box office smashes. If she finds herself locked in debate as to the true underlying spiritual philosophy of the hobbits as compared to those of the halflings in D&D, well then she may qualify. Most likely not.
Has the status of nerd and geek elevated? It certainly has for me, but that's at least in part because I've gotten older. I refer to myself as a "computer nerd" without fearing what people will think. I would not have done that 10 years ago when I was entering high school. "Nerd" and "geek" were not exactly insults when I was in high school as much as they were descriptions. They carried a negative connotation (particularly "geek"). I'd say nerd was to smart people like redneck is to a southerner. More often than not a negative term, but some people wear the banner proudly. Has that changed? I think I'm too old to answer that question.
You Can Take The Comic Book Away From The Geek, But You Can't...
Friend of No-Lyfe Mike Ahlf, who has a mostly-but-not-entirely political blog delves into the world of comic books and comic book property movies to try to make the case for Marvel Comics over my preferred (when I collected) DC. He'd make a convincing argument... except that he gets DC soooooo wrong it's not even funny.
His points about continuity are more-or-less on mark. It's always been a problem at DC for reasons that are more-or-less beyond their control. DC superheroes were set up in a legacy format. The first Flash was Jay Garrick and the second Barry Allen. The first Green Lantern was Alan Scott and the second Hal Jordan. The reasons this happened were well documented and were a product of the marketplace more than anything else. In 1986 wherebouts, they made the controversial decision to take Jay Garrick and Barry Allen and put them in a linear timeline. While there were two Green Lanterns (Scott and Jordan) and two Flashes (Garrick and Allen), there were two Batmans named Bruce Wayne and two Supermans named Clark Kent (when they relaunched Flash and GL in the 60's, Batman and Superman were too popular to tamper with). this became increasingly confusing for readers and since they have always been the flagship characters, it was easier to change around the Flashes, GLs, and Atoms.
Had they left it there, it would have been controversial but it wouldn't have lead to the agitation that has occured with many fans. They rebooted Superman and changed around the history of Clark Kent from boy nerd to jock, which was disconcerting at best and an outright betrayal of the character at worst. They also rebooted Wonder Woman from scratch, taking everything that she had done beforehand and taking it out of continuity. Though Mike also mentions Zero Hour, the effect that had on DC continuity was minimal and overblown in a marketing effort.
His point about DC characters having a cheesy fatal flaw is half-right. Superman, Green Lantern, and Martian Manhunter have it, but they're about it for the big guys (and in MM's case, it's well explained and no more odd than Storm's aversion to enclosed spaces). Flash, Atom, and the plethora of powerless characters (Batman, Green Arrow) are without said limitations.
Then Mike really starts to just get it all wrong:
None of their villians are simply evil businessmen like the Kingpin. Nobody in their pantheon has shades of grey. They're evil, or they're not. Contrast this with Spidey, who used his powers for monetary gain until the death of Uncle Ben. Contrast with Magneto, whose true brilliance is that he truly BELIEVES what he is saying. Contrast with Doctor Doom, who of all things carries around a more powerful weapon than anything he can build, in the form of Diplomatic Immunity
None of their villains are evil businessmen? Ahem... Lex Luthor? Luthor was a diabolical madman pre-Crisis, but since has been more or less DC's own Kingpin. Poison Ivy and R'as al Ghoul just want to set the Earth free. Penguin wants to be admired and respected. Joker just wants to world to understand the joke. Luthor is trying to provide a financial empire for himself and legacy for his daughter. Shade was a superhero because it seemed like the thing to do, then he became bored of it and destroyed half of Opal City. His super-powers had simply made him bored. Neither hero nor villain, somewhere in between. As for heroes in shades of gray? That pretty much defines Batman these days, whose own struggle is provided in the dichotomy between Robin and Huntress, the one who wants to do good and the one who wants to hurt those that hurt her. Green Arrow is a womanizer and a cad whose irresponsibility lead his former sidekick, Roy Harper, into drug addiction. Not to mention Hal Jordan, who was a drunkard when he found salvation through his superpowered ring and became Green Lantern for many years. Then his home town was destroyed, and he became so driven to make things right that he was trying to disrupt the entire time-space continuum... just to make things right and bring Coast City back from the dead.
On the last point, it's not too tough to disagree with his assessment:
So, now we have X-Men, and Spidey. Daredevil is proving that even Marvel's second stringers have box office power. Why? Because Marvel is doing it right. They have writers and directors who respect the material. They bring in actors, not for name power, but who can play the parts. Contrast the casting of Tobey Maguire as Spider-Man with Ahnold as Mr. Freeze and you'll see what I mean. Contrast the director's work and writers' work from Spidey or Daredevil with "Joel the campy fruit" Schumacher's complete ruination of Batman, right down to the Bat-Nipples and Bat-Ass. Turning Mr. Freeze, the emotionless scientist, into a singing wierdo. Taking Bane, from the evil genius who studied Batman for a year, learned his moves, then broke his back, to a shameless Hulk-ripoff toady controlled by pheromones. Warner showed no respect for what Batman is, and it showed. The people working on Marvel's films have respect for the material that's giving them a job and a chance to shine, and it also shows.
One must remember, however, that both the Batman and Superman movie enterprises started off well and went downhill. Burton's Batman was a solid adaptation of Frank Miller's Return of the Dark Knight character and the original Superman will always be a classic. It is therefore quite possible that Super-Man and X-Men will end up little different. It all depends on how many movies their respective directors do and who replaces them. I sincerely hope it doesn't happen, and I don't think it will. Not because the characters are inherently superior as Mike suggests, but rather because DC suffered from properties protection overkill. When Burton left the Batman enterprise, it was in part because Warner Bros. didn't want the Batman mythos to become irretrievably dark. A couple years ago when there was talk of a Nic Cage Superman, it was (thankfully) squelched during a debate over how closely it should tie in with the Superman comic story at the time (Superman Blue). The Marvel movies, on the other hand, are produced independently of the comic books so there is no overlap. There is no need to showcase shoehorn the new comic villain (at the time) Bane where he clearly didn't belong. They did the same thing in the Batman Animated Series (which was stellar to the end, for the most part) with the same disastrous results. Coincidentally, DC's last successful foray into other media was Batman Tomorrow, which had no comic book precedent for the bigwigs at DC Comics to try to control. Since there is little Marvel Comic editorial control over the content of the movies, it frees the movies to more closely mirror the visions of the directors. Let's just hope they don't replace the Burton's with Shoemachers.
Computer emulators of game consoles is a legally tricky area. The generally accepted rule of thumb is that if you own the cartridge, you can play the game on your computer. When Connectix came out with a Sony Playstation emulator that required the Playstation CD, Sony challenged that and maintained that the game can be purchased and played with the implicit understanding that you own a console. A legal battle ensued and continued until Sony threw in the towel (while they were ahead, even) and entered an agreement with Connectix. Here's an article explaining the details of the Sony/Connectix battle.
I ran across this by the way of news that Connectix has just been purchased by Microsoft, which might leave a door open for Microsoft that Sony would assuredly prefer closed.
This will be my first entry in hopefully a series of entries reviewing movies that for one reason or another, stood out in my mind as a quality film. I'm not going to use any sort of star or point system to rate these movies, because they will mostly deal with movies that I recommend. Occasionally, a real bomb will cross my path, in which case I'll expound upon the lesser qualities therein, hopefully to the amusement of our 12 fans. So without further ado, here we go:
Every once in a while, a movie comes along that presents a fresh and interesting look or feel that makes it stand out from others. One Hour Photo is one of these movies. Apart from the use of Robin Williams in a very uncharacteristic role (save for Insomnia, which I also recommend), the use of color and lighting creates something wholly different here than your usual run-of-the-mill film. Throughout the film, various filters are used to present different moods and emotions, while costumes and sets portray a series of 'heightened reality' scenes. The movie comes across almost fable-like in its presentation, and the look is just one of the things (thankfully, it's always a shame when the look of a movie far outweighs its story) that gives this movie some clout.
Which brings me to the plot: Williams plays Sy, the photo guy, who by day develops your photos, and by night adores your pictures while you sleep. Well, sort of like that. A picturesque American Young Family, the Yorkins, are introduced and shown to be the apple of Sy's eye. He has watched them, through the use of photos for over 9 years, and know feels almost like "Uncle" Sy. He cherishes every aspect of their family, but because of the nature of film, only those moments which are happiest tend to be captured, so Sy's image of this family is flawed and Idyllic. As his need to connect grows, he starts to try and engage the family on a more personal level. Sometimes he's sly about this, sometimes he's just downright creepy as he compliments family, children and even their house. But because he is so quiet, shy and has a very nice, forgettable charm, the family misses his needy behavior and dismisses it.
I won't spoil the turns in this movie, for they are not only not predictable, but I found them to be refreshing because it wasn't your usual "stalker" movie. It's one of the first movies I've seen where the stalker didn't have any romantic interest in any of the members of the family, but instead longed for the life and the love they had. He had always been invisible, ignored and he garners our sympathy, but yet he dives into a deeper pit of despair and desperation and his acts are so violating, but we understand him and we feel for him almost as much as we despise his actions. It's an amazing piece of character work, and an impressive debut by the director Mark Romanek, who directed many of Madonna's videos and that video to Michael and Janet Jackson's Scream. He brings a rather "Kubrickian" feel to the movie, especially in a dream scene later in the film. The script is benign in many aspects, but the underlying subtext really brings out subtle ironies and complexities that make this a joy to watch.
There are a few things I disagree with in the film, but they are very few and far between, and I think it runs nice and slowly but with careful pace that underlines his slow turn towards insanity. Or is there really that fine a line separating the two?
So there you have it: One Hour Photo is a wonderful, uniquely visual film with an astonishingly restrained performance by Williams.
For the last six months, the company I work for (which I will forevermore be designated UFC when I write about it) has been working tirelessly on a project. Sixty welders literally working 24 hours a day around the clock (in alternating 12-hour shifts, obviously). Four engineers taking their vague prints and turning them into specs. An entire office staff almost entirely dedicated to supporting everyone else working on the project. The office staff including me, of course. On two seperate occasions, I put in 25 consecutive hour shifts to keep the flow going and us all as close to budget as possible.
The Houston Chronicle just did a big write-up on the cover of the Sunday Business Section. So are we mentioned?
Why yes, actually, as an "Unidentified Fabrication Company."
We're tossing around the idea of printing up business cards next time the company we signed up for the contrat with come around.
R. Alex Whitlock Computer Systems Analyst UFC: Unidentified Fabrication Company.
Well, I guess virtue a cost-plus job is its own reward...
"Everybody's searching for the end of the rainbow I'm just trying to smell the rain and every joy seems to be wrapped up in sorrow behind every pleasure, there's a touch of pain I will remain." -Great Divide
Stellar Oklahoma band The Great Divide is not long for this world. At the end of March, lead singer Mike McClure is leaving the band to strike out on his own. They were supposed to play in Houston a week or so back, but unfortunately their bus broke down and they were unable to make it. Since it was there last show in Houston, it meant that my only hope of seeing them was to catch an out of town show, such as the one in Bryan on Friday. The only option was a show in Austin a day before I'd have to be back to catch Dead End Angels at the Mucky Duck.
I was already running late when I had to make a side trip in order to pick up directions that I thought I'd left at work. Except they weren't there. Nor were they in my apartment or my car. I'd obviously slipped them into the Pocket of Oblivion I'm known for putting things that disappear and never resurface. That meant that I had to print out another copy. The printer up at the office is a good one and reasonably fast as long as you're not trying to print out large pictures. The problem? When it goes into PowerSave mode, it wakes up and slowly and grumpily as a college student with an 8am class. I hit Print.
I go use the john and come back, it's powering the toners.
I get a Mountain Dew from the coke machine and come back, it's recalibrating.
I sit there and watch, step-by-step ("Warming Up" "Recalibrating" "Leave Me Alone" "Recalibrating" "Go to Hell" "Warming Up" [I was begining to feel like Ron Livingston in Office Space, if you get the reference] "Processing Job" "Priming Toners" "Processing Job" "Printing").
It finishes, I turn the alarm on, lock the door, race out to my car, drive down the street, drive back, turn the alarm off, unlock the door, take the directions off the printer, turn the alarm back on, lock the door, and head out again.
While I was waiting at the light off the freeway, I thought to myself "I can't wait to get on the freeway I can out of this nasty weather."
Now, what possessed me to think that once I got on the freeway the skies would clear and little angels would descend playing harps to keep the nasty weather at bay for my trip, I don't know. In any case, there were no angels, harps, blue skies, or distance beyond a 10-foot scope. Luckily, I travel that way often to go to Austin or Waco, but it's an entirely different experience when you are driving blind. A couple times I'd wandered if I'd passed Hempstead (where I get off The Freeway onto The Scrappy Little Highway Trying To Be a Freeway). I crossed my fingers and kept driving, figuring that if I drove all the way to Austin I'd miss the show, but the harped angels missing here would surely be up there.
In my CD player was The Great Divide's latest CD and when "Remain," it's title track played, the thunder and pounding rain accompaniment was more than appropriate. In fact, there were a lot of songs on the CD that seemed to fit a road trip, with the exception of a song about driving under an almost full moon. Of course, maybe the moon was full, but I couldn't see it. There was also a song that mentions a blue sky, leaving me cursing the noticeably absent good-weather angels.
While on The Scrappy Little Highway Trying To Be The Freeway, I was looking for some Farm Road. For those of you that don't live in Texas, Farm Roads, or FM's, are East-West roads that range from backroads to highways. Given what the map said, I assumed that it was the former. It was definitely the latter. I almost missed it when I blinked. No exit, no light, just an apologetic little sign saying "Hey, the FM you're looking for is right here."
I had to check the map a good three times just to make sure this two-lane road (one each way) was in fact the FM that seemed like a pretty big deal at the map. If it wasn't for the map, I would have assumed it to be a farm's driveway. Ordinarily, I love roads like this. The speed-limits are usually high, there is never traffic, and the cops are never on them. Ordinarily, though, the irrigation trenches beside the road don't look rivers and when I run through a puddle, my heart doesn't stop in fear that it'll pull my car into the aforementioned river. Instead of celebrating the 70MPH speed limit, I was cursing it. I couldn't go a bit past 50 and those damn signs were taunting me.
Taunting me, that is, until I couldn't see them anymore when the rain gave way to hale. I wouldn't have recognized the sound of it if we hadn't had some hale at work earlier in the day. Now I was going 40, but at least the signs weren't taunting me anymore. Of course, neither could I see the stop sign that they stuck in the middle of nowhere. I say "middle of nowhere" as though they put it some place specifically on the FM that should be unexpected. Rather, this was the FM Road Through Oblivion and just about anywhere they could have put it would have left me asking "Why in the world did they put it there?!" which I did constantly until I could breathe again, my car having skidded perpendicular to the road in my rapid attempt to stop.
Yahoo listed the drive as being two hours, which meant that I still had half an hour to make up to get there by 11, so I decided to forgo my heart attack and hit the road again. It wasn't hard to calm down, realizing that there is no one but me (with the aid of Yahoo Maps) would be driving the Road Through Oblivion at this time of night.
Driving on a bending, flooded road in storming rain, hale, makes you think about the things in life you don't always make time to, like "Have I written a will?" More seriously, though, the great thing about being young, single, and childless is that I can take trips like this. To the extent that the missed stop sign and subsequent skid-stop gave me a heart attack, at least I was the only one. I only had to worry about my safety and, because I am young, I am immortal. So what's to worry about? Besides, there was nothing, nothing that was going to stop me from making the show.
I reached civilization soon enough and God was smiling on College Station and Bryan. Well, maybe mildly grinning at the corner of His mouth. At least I was able to see the Hall of Fame when I got there. Somehow, I'd still made up the half-hour that I needed to and got there at 11 on the nose, just in time to hear the radio guy introduce the band.
The Hall of Fame is an amazing place. There were probably a couple thousand people there, but I was able to get a spot up front. That didn't turn out to be the greatest thing, as the TGD song "College Days" about getting drunk, stoned, and hung over takes on a whole new feel when you can smell the girl next to you vomiting into a plastic cup. I'll have to save that story for another time, but it didn't impede on the bittersweet experience of listening to every Great Divide song played for my last time.
I'm taking a break from No-Lyfe stuff today. Well, that isn't completely true since I burned the last two DVDs worth of files that finished the humungous backup job that is the complete project files for Adjusters, all on a concise 15 DVDs (14.5 of which are raw, uncompressed video). Whew, what a run-on sentence!
So, why am I taking a break, a couple reasons. First, because I was out all morning, getting examined for new glasses and searching for auto and homeowners insurance at affordable costs. State Farm won't be able to hold me under their thumb for very much longer! Suburbanites of the world, unite!
But, mainly this break is because I figured I would be busy tonight. With my mom's birthday. Actually, her birthday was last night. My brother and I (and sister-in-aw since he got married 8 years ago) always do something with our mom for her birthday. But, since my brother and sister-in-law had been out of town and I was supposed to pick them up from the airport last night. So, before the trip, we said we'd do something with her tonight.
So, I mentioned this to her, and she gave the standard mother's "You don't have to do anything just for me" line. And I mentioned it last night as we were coming back from the airport. They were still up for it, but we made no concrete plans.
Well, I ran my errands this morning and early afternoon. Then I sat down and watched a tape of my TV shows from this past week, figuring that I would hear from them at some point and we'd take my mom out to dinner or somesuch and then maybe do some other things, like the movies or something. It's what we always do.
So, after 3 hours, my tape of TV shows end. It's 6 pm. Why haven't they called? So, if you have plans with people and you haven't heard from them, what do you do? Call them! But alas, upon calling them, I found out how wrong I was. I never thought that when it came to doing something for our mother's birthday, I'd hear the words coming from my brother's mouth "We never heard from you, so we made other plans an hour ago." It's our mother's birthday! We always do something! And if they hadn't heard from me, why didn't they call me? That's what you do, right? Especially when it's about your mother's birthday! But, I guess I was proven wrong. My mother says "It's different when you're married," but dagnabit, it's her birthday celebration! How can they make other plans just because they hadn't heard from *me*? Why was the onus on *me* to make sure this happened? It's our mother!
So, even though it now seems I have time to work on No-Lyfe stuff because my mom started going on about "We don't have to do anything just for me...", I just don't feel like it right now. Okay, maybe I'm rambling and ranting, but I just have a hard time believing that my own brother would not do anything for my mother's birthday and make plans with other people just because he didn't hear from me. "Different when you're married" indeed.
**UPDATE**
15 minutes after I posted this, my brother calls me to say his plans have changed and we were now going to take our mother to dinner at Fuddruckers. Looks like he finally came to his senses.
A Tale of Shoes: I Feel So Pretty, I Feel So Pretty, and Witty, and Bright
I just spent $400 on shoes.
No joke.
I'm not generally a shoes-buying kind of person. I'm also notoriously thrifty when it comes to clothes. Thrift-store thrifty. So why did I just spend $400 on shoes?
[Voice: Director from Panzer] It all started ten years ago... [/voice]... okay, actually it was about 15 years ago. When Mom used to take me to the shoe store, she'd pick a cheap brand and say that I could have any pair of shoes there. I'd pick a color I liked or a design I thought was cool, and it was all good.
Then my feet started getting bigger. Once I hit size 13, my choice was narrowed to a black pair, a white pair, and maybe a purple pair (which is to say, as a self-respecting guy, I had two choices). When I hit size fourteen, we'd have to ask if they even had any, and if they did, those would be my new shoes (unless they were purple). Otherwise, go to the next store and ask that question. After I had worn 14s for a couple years, shoe stores started carrying bigger sizes so the variety wasn't so bad.
Then my feet grew another inch.
Even so, there were stores that I knew carried big shoes and I could generally find what something somewhere, and usually not in purple. A couple years ago, that started changing. Suddenly they were all capping out at 14. But have no fear because the Internet was here! I could still find the shoes I wanted at good prices at Payless's site. I got my current job where steel-toed boots are required so I got myself a pair of Stanley Steel-toed boots for roughly $40 a piece. Good deal, cause I was never in my life going to pay $50.
Well, with Stanley boots, you get what you pay for, which isn't much. They started falling apart pretty quickly and right now are barely presentable. My old CAT boots lasted about 4 years, these obviously weren't going to make it that long. So I went back to Payless to see if they had anything perhaps a little better. No luck. Worse than no luck, they didn't even have the Stanleys anymore. They'd discontinued almost their entire line above 13. So for the last three months, I haven't had a clue where to get steel-toed, size 15 boots. My self-important $50 was no longer such a barrier. I'd pay anything if I could just find them. Supply and demand is a bitch.
I thought I had a lead when my Aunt Martha told me that she sold cop supplies and she might have some big shoes with some steel toes. She had some SWAT boots that were pretty cool, but none in my size, of course. They would have been nice, but I'd like a dark brown pair like my old CATs and cop shoes just come in black. Then again, at this point, who was I to complain about color? My current boots are tan for chrissakes.
Then, as she often does, Mom came to my rescue. She sent me a link to Zappo.com. It was like being 10 years old again with size 10 shoes all over again. Dozens of kinds of boots. Heck, I could even get a new pair of tennis shoes! (my current pair was purchased in 1995). The more I looked, the more I wanted. Oooh, oooh, brown CATs!! Oooh, oooh, oooh, black CATs!! Wow! Harley Davidson boots! Badass!! Wait, do I really need them? I'd only get to wear them when I go to a club or something and am wearing black. Harrumph. I shall buy them. Why?
Because I can!!!!
Or, to put it more technically, any economist can tell you as the supply decreases and demand stays constant (increases, actually, since the average shoe size is getting larger), the gap between the two will be met with a corresponding rise in price. However, with each pair of shoes purchased, the utility of an additional pair dwindles. A second pair of shoes is not as valuable as having one, the third less valuable than the second, and so on. Therefore, what was going through my mind when I was ostensibly thinking "Dude! Harley Davidson boots!" was actually something along the lines of "After careful analysis, I have come to the conclusion that despite the rise in price to a previously considered obscene amount of money, and even considering the dwindling utility of yet another pair of shoes, the marginalized utility (and therefore decreased demand, on a micro level) is still greater than the increase in cost, and when utility is greater than cost, I'm getting Harley Davidson boots.
Fellow blogger and novelist Oliver Willis has released the first two chapters of Valley Girl, his novel, for your perusal. I handed off Something So Perfect to an editor-for-hire. Not sure what I'm going to do with it when I get it back. In the meantime, you can still download it for free! Either from the site or ask me in email for the latest and greatest version.
Now, through Oliver and I are both politically minded and write novels, I should point out that there are a couple differences. First of all, my novels are about the inner soul and the nature of the human condition. I'm told that Oliver's novels, on the other hand, have lots of sex.
I'm only a little bit bitter cause I spent time last night voice recording at Adam's, sneezing my head off because of all the cats for me to be allergic to (and to date there is only one), it's gotta be his otherwise cool kitty. I tracked this down for my friend Anne, but thought that since I had it, I would post it here. Originally from an email sent to Jonah Goldberg, which Jonah edited and posted, which I am shamelessly posting here:
FROM A DOG'S DIARY Day number 180 8:00 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE! 9:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE! 9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE! 10:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE! 11:30 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE! 12:00 noon - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE! 1:00 PM - OH BOY! THE YARD! MY FAVORITE! 4:00 PM - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE! 5:00 PM - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE! 5:30 PM - OH BOY! MOM! MY FAVORITE!
Day number 181 8:00 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE! 9:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE! 9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE! 10:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE! 11:30 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE! 12:00 noon - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE! 1:00 PM - OH BOY! THE YARD! MY FAVORITE! 4:00 PM - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE! 5:00 PM - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE! 5:30 PM - OH BOY! MOM! MY FAVORITE!
EXCERPTS FROM A CAT'S DIARY
DAY 752 - My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.
DAY 761 - Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair...must try this on their bed.
DAY 765 - Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was...Hmmm. Not working according to plan.
DAY 768 - I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.
DAY 771 - There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer.." More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.
DAY 774 - I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The bird on the other hand has got to be an informant, and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time.
The Really, Really, Really Roundabout Way of Finding A Woman: Running For President
Okay, so there's this guy in New Hampshire named Kenneth Stremsky who is running for president. Greg's Opinion blogged on Stremsky's blog a while back (and got a comment from the man himself). Want to find out what he stands for? Hope you're not going anywhere cause his "position papers" are some 250 pages long, printed out.
Here are some of his more interesting policies and bio information: * - I am thinking about posing for nude adult portrait classes in the future in different decades of my life. I may also pose for nude photography classes. If I do pose for nude adult photo classes, I may ask that only black and white film be used because I like nudes done with black and white film a lot more than nudes done with color film. Someday, I hope there will be another Renaissance in the art world similar to the one that took place more than a hundred years. I also hope we will have more sculptors like Michelangelo and painters like Leonaro da Vinci. If Da Vinci is reincarnated in the United States of America in the future, he will probably be the most famous painter and richest inventor. I think our society is extremely, extremely stupid and suicidal when it cuts back on art programs, music programs, and libraries. We cut out our nation's heart when we cut back on art programs, music programs, and libraries. My recommended website page links to the Louvre Museum, the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, and the Currier Gallery of Art."
* - "I have a great sense."
* - "I can howl like a wolf."
* - "I highly recommend that people check out the glass flowers display at Harvard University."
* - He has written many, many, many letters to the author of The Green Papers, and you can read every last one of them on his site, if you like.
* - "I often ramble."
* - "I have blown some friendships."
* - "PEOPLE SHOULD NOT VOTE FOR ME FOR PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA IF THEY HAVE NOT READ MY COMMENTS IN PART 1 OF LOCKE."
and
* - He likes negative coverage and wants more of it.
Well, I'm only too happy to oblige.
But I haven't gotten to the really good part yet!
He dedicates an page two (two actually, though they say basically the same thing) on his site to the search for a wife so that he doesn't lose votes for being single! This page, saying basically the same thing, has a song he wrote!
Weirder still? It's working!!
The AP interviewed him and he's gotten a lot of letters from women across the country and one from Australia and one from Brazil!
Before NLJ, I worked on a site called RAWbservations for six months. It honestly never occured to me that I should pimp myself on the site. I figure between my eclectic views on politics and eccentric taste in music, it would have the opposite effect (and, in fact, I'm pretty sure it did, in one case). Using a presidential campaign to search for a bride? Genius! Puuuuuure genius!
In Response to Roeper's Desire to See A Jennifer Garner Romantic Comedy
Actually, Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck have already been in a romantic comedy together; Pearl Harbor: The story of how the Japanese staged a sneak attack on an American Love Triangle.
Dear People Who Run The Diamond Shamrock Down The Street,
Let me first of all concede that this all could be a misunderstanding. I'm not always the sharpest tool in the shed, so I could be wrong. That being said, your "Open 24 Hours" sign is quite misleading.
When I see a sign that says "Open 24 Hours" at a convenience store, I assume that it means that it is open 24 consecutive hours, 7 days a week. Now, this assumption has been wrong before. The McDonald's right by the University of Houston says "Open 24 Hours" but implies "On weekdays cause UH is dead on weekends." However, in this case it is a Tuesday night and therefore even if that is what you mean (though I don't know why it would be, since UH is some distance from here), it does not apply to tonight when I showed up to satiate a tortured addiction to Reece's FastBreak candy bars and you weren't open.
As you weren't open, and I was looking through a glass window that says "Open 24 Hours," I must still assume that there must be some implication that I, in my late-night feeblemindedness, missed. Perhaps you meant 24 hours a week? That doesn't seem right, though, because you're always open when I'm on my way to and coming back from work, which would imply at least 14 hours a day. So would that be 14 hours on one day and 10 hours on the next, making you open 24 hours every other day? I'm pretty sure that you're always open every day when I come home from work, so it would have to be 14+14 hours and your sign doesn't state "Open 28 Hours." So, I thought, perhaps it means open in non-consecutive 24 hour incriments. Say, for instance, 24 hours on, 1 hour off, ad infinum. Were that the case though, approximately every 24 days you would not be open on my drive to work (if it's 24-1, 12 days if it's 24-2) and, to date, that has not been the case. Now, it's possible that you mean Open At Least 24 Hours In Non-consecutive Increments and that you are sure to be open when I'm on my way to and from work. If that is true, it's a bit silly claim to make without specifying when that 1 or 2 hours you are not open at all. Granted, that would be a little like a shift table ("We're off from 10-11 on Sunday, 11-12 on Monday, 12-1 on Tuesday, etc") and would be a little tedious, but the more information you could supply the better off we'd all be, I think.
Otherwise, you see, you end up with snarky letters like this one from a FastBreakless addict who want a fraggin' candy bar at 12:30 in the morning but can't cause you're sign fraggin' lies (or is otherwise not-entirely-accurate if there is some method to your FastBreak-denying madness... madness, I tell you... madness)
Sincerely, One of the Authors of the Blog You Do Not Read
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!: Part Two -Perfect- You're the perfect girlfriend. Which means you're rare or that you cheated :P You're the kind of chick that can hang out with your boyfriend's friends and be silly. You don't care about presents or about going to fancy placed. Hell, just hang out. You're just happy being around your boyfriend.
I took this after seeing Alex's little post. See? I'm the perfect girlfriend and your not. Neener, neener, neener.
Wait, maybe that's not a good thing?
Oh, and I have to add this: Of course I'm a perfect girlfriend, I'm a guy. Don't take this the wrong way everyone, but think about it: Who else plays video games, enjoys lazing about the house? That's right, and if women enjoyed that, they'd be perfect too.
-Sensitive- You're Sensitive, and you'd like to stay that way. Sorry,listened to a bit too much Jewel there. You're sweet and very emotionally charged. You definitely love the person you're with, and always want to know how they're feeling so you can make sure they're happy.
So says an email I recieved today. Since anyone at my office having a crush on me is counterintuitive, to say the least, I felt the need to investigate.
I work in the office of an oil drilling services company. Prior to a huge waves of layoffs (a contract ended), we had 68 employees. Now, theoretically it could have been a former coworker that "hired" the website to find me, so I will consider them in narrowing down our suspects.
Now, first of all, since the site is called "Work Place Crush" and not "Trabaje el Amor del Lugar" or its Vietnamese equivalent, I can eliminate those that do not speak English from the pool.
We're down to 48.
Of those forty-eight, I've talked to roughly 20 of them (as I am integral to our payroll system, I am aware of them, but they are not aware of me). So now we've got twenty left.
Sixteen of the remaining 20 are men. The ad only shows women, and since advertisements never lie, we're down to 4.
The suspects:
P* - Cheif accountant, just shy of 60 years old, white, evangelical protestant. Likes: Jesus Christ, lots of details. Hates: Computers, mechanical calculators, any mathematical tool more complex than an abacus. Seeing as how I'm the IT guy -- not to mention that she's married to the company President -- I would have to say this one is unlikely.
E* - Office manager, pushing 70, white, evangelical protestant. Likes: Jesus Christ, being valued, and puppy dogs Hates: Mean people and jerks. Seeing as how I'm 15 years younger than her youngest son, and I am a jerk and a mean person, this is probably unlikely, too.
J* - Receptionist, just under 50 years of age, white, evangelical protestant. Likes: Jesus Christ, Infuriating her colleagues with endless blather and explanations. Hates: Not being absolutely, positively, 100% certain of every... little... detail. Seeing as how I'm younger than her youngest child and she's married, I'd have to say this one is unlikely, too.
M* - CAD Drafter, mid-thirties, Hispanic, Roman Catholic. Likes: Jesus Cristo, authentic Mexican food. Dislikes: American attempts at Mexican food, being so far away from her family. She is the most likely culprit, were it not for the fact that she regularly asks me how to get to a site her husband didn't bookmark for her, this is unlikely, too.
So... the obvious explanation... is that there is another woman employee for the company that I don't know about, yet thinks that I am super hot. I'll have to look around more closely. Maybe she has the superpower of invisibility. That'd be kinda cool... yeah... that's the ticket...
I'm actually not deaf, though I am hearing impaired and have been for as long as I can recall. I don't wear a hearing aid, but I have an armory full of different ways to ask "I'm sorry, could you say that again?" I'm not very good over the phone, but one nice thing about my cell phone is that I can turn the volume up pretty high. If you're talking to me and I'm looking at you, chances are I'll hear you just fine as often as not. Other times, I pick up context clues and try to guess what you're saying. I can't read lips, but the combination of facial expression, nature of the conversation, and the few words I do here will give me enough information to formulate a response. If it doesn't strike me as important, I'll just gauge what kind of question or statement it is and come up with an answer, like "yeah" or "sounds good."
I was at the supermarket today talking to the Vietnamese co-owner. and she asked me a question. She is a soft-spoken woman with an accent, and it's frequent that she's trying to make light conversation, but I can rarely hear her. She asked me a question and I said "Yeah," which was not the answer she was looking for. She just looked at me blankly.
I apologized and asker her to repeat the question, but I couldn't hear her again. I think she thought that her accent was too thick, so she start talking more slowly (good)... and more softly (very bad). She repeated it four or five times, each one more soft than the last, and we both became increasingly embarassed. Me because of my hearing and she because she was sure it was her accent. The worst part of all was that I knew it was just a question that she was asking just to be polite.
Sure enough, the guy behind me (whom she was serving while talking to me) translated: "What does your jacket say?"
Suicide Jumper totals SUV "A 32 year old woman was critically injured yesterday when a man fell to his death in an apparent suicide from a Waikiki hotel and landed on the roof of her van that had stopped at a Kuhio Avenue stoplight, according to police. The van driver was not breathing and had no pulse when paramedics arrived, but they were able to resuscitate her en route to the Queen's Medical Center." Nice picture.
I probably shouldn't be so vehemently opposed to the people that drive SUV's... but I am. At least now when someone claims that they afford more "protection", I can give them this link and tell them to be sure to wear a helmet.
I was in San Marcos on Saturday night for my second anti-Valentine's Day party is as many days. While I was passing through Martindale, I noticed that something really smelled. Now, I have almost no sense of smell, so if I can smell it, then it's pretty strong. "What in the world would make that smell so strong?"
The smell went away, and once I was comfortable with the fact that it wasn't something in my car, I just started singing along with the CD.
Two minutes later it really smelled again. "What is that smell?!" I asked myself.
It went away again, and again I sang along.
A couple minutes later, I noticed a familiar site in the middle of the road. "What is the deal?" I asked. "That must be the fourth roadkill skunk I've seen."
A few seconds later, I asked myself "Why does it keep sme... OH! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Then, tired of asking myself questions, I decided to direct a more definite statement in my own direction: "Alex, you're an idiot."
My Sad and Pathetic Saturday Night (or My F-ing Blast!)
A few days ago Jason posted about whether or not it's "sad and pathetic" to drink for the sake of getting drunk. The commenters uniformly came down against that silly notion, so I didn't have a whole lot to ad.
Just to make sure, though, I ran a field test on Saturday night at a party in San Marcos. Four ubershots of Tequila, 11 jello shots (out of syringes, no less!), and 7 plastic cups of Killian beer. Now I can unconditionally say that Jay is right and she is wrong. I have proof, as evidenced by today's hangover leaving me unswayed.
I am a generally thoughtful person. As a writer, I come up with a lot of ideas to write about and, as you'll read below, several times that many to not think about. Even apart from my creativity, though, I have been described affectionately and not-so-affectionately as a very analytical person. When faced with a problem, a percieved problem, or just a possibly percieved problem, my mind goes into overdrive to figure out what I'm going to do. If I meet a girl, I detect our compatibilities and incompatibilities instinctively. When I meet a guy, I do the same (using a different criteria of course) to determine whether or not this person would annoy me with prolonged exposure (My tolerance for people has dipped a little in recent years). If I have a problem with a friend, roommate, or girlfriend, chances are I've run through it a million times before I even bring it up.
I like that about me, though, because it fuels my creativity and helps me avoid problems before they start.
Sometimes, however, I want to turn it off. I want to have a good time without analyzing the people around me. I want to become uninhibited and just talk to people just to talk to them. Can I do that without the alcohol? It depends on my mood. With alcohol, though, it doesn't matter. I'm a happy drunk, so even if I've had a rough day, I can just turn off everything that went wrong and enjoy the moment. Alcohol is Viagra for the spirit. It's not so much (as the Bare Naked Ladies song quoted above puts it) to become someone else as it is to nurture aspects of my personality that get lost in the daily grind.
Besides, scientists agree, binge drinking is a blast.
One of the Sandman stories I read while in San Marcos (see post immediately below for details) was about a writer who held a muse hostage. As the plot progresses, his ideas start spinning out of control and he has more ideas than he knows what to do with and it drives him crazy.
I know the feeling, though my sanity has remained more or less in-tact. As soon as I finish the second novel of my Slaughter series, presumably later this year, I've decided to take a hiatus from novel writing. (See below again for one of the major reasons that I need a break). Of course, as I say this I've had more new ideas in a shorter period of time than I have at any other in my recollection. I literally have four novels that I have to do next. A couple of genre pieces that could actually get me published, some character pieces that would just be fascinating, and a prequel to my November Novel.
A few months ago, I had a midnight meal with an old acquaintence that I was marginally involved with over an 11-month span a couple years back. We'd gotten talking about rollplaying (I don't, she does) and I was explaining to her an intricate idea that I have for a fantasy novel. The backdrop for it is basically a fantasy world with elves, orcs, and so on that takes place on the heels of the industrial revolution. That's not the story, just where the story takes place. I don't think I ever got to explain the characters and the story because she kept asking me questions about the world itself. At one point I was explaining the racial political coalitions (dwarves, orcs, and most humans vs. some humans, elves, and halflings) in the largest land and how those realities are affected by the (non-democratic) regime in the neighboring rival nation and she gave me the strangest look.
She knew that I was a writer, but I predominantly write realistic character-driven morality tales. In our eleven months, the idea I would also have ideas for complex fantasy stories hadn't occured to her. I also have two science fiction story ideas that are in development in the back of my mind. For every one idea that gets put on paper, I fully develop ten that I can't make the time to do anything with. For every post you read here, I have 5 or so that I don't actually post because I simply don't have time to flesh out the wording.
And I wouldn't trade that for anything in the world. Except, perhaps, the whole thing about getting paid for my writing. Some time ago, it was pointed out that my college career (was wasn't in the past tense yet) could go more smoothly if I took some drugs to help me focus. Truth be told, I have the attention span of a gnat. I could never pay attention in school because my mind was always off in some magical or imaginary world of some sort. It may be a world just like ours with slightly different inhabitants or it might be one where the humans and elves are locked in an eternal struggle between human technology and elven magic. No matter how crappy my life is going, I've got a character that can help me get through it because his luck is better... or his luck is a lot worse so it puts everything in perspective.
If I had taken the focus drugs, my plans for law school may not have been scrapped and I could be well on my way there by now. Maybe I'd be married to a girl I dated a couple times that lost interest because my head always seemed to be in the clouds. Could be the perfect life, but it wouldn't be mine because the cost of being able to focus would come with such a cost that I wouldn't be me anymore.
Where Did I Put Away Those Childish Things? I Can't Seem to Find Them...
"When I was a child I spoke as a child I understood as a child I thought as a child; but when I became a man I put away childish things." I Corinthians. xiii. 11.
"When I was a child, I spoke as a child. I wish I could remember what I said" -Todd Snider, "I Spoke As a Child"
While I was at the party, I got into a couple conversations about comic books.
I haven't collected comics in six months or so, I'd wager. For the year before that, I had a monthly pull list of comics that I never really read. I mostly purchased them because of my friendship with the owner of the store. Once he closed shop, that was it for me.
A few weeks back, I went to the Ushicon Anime convention. Were it not for No-Lyfe Productions, I may not have gone. Truth be told, I had seen a grand total of (1) anime show that I hadn't already seen. Needless to say, I felt a bit out of place. The other conventioneers dressed in costumes and talked anime shop while I wandered around before finally hanging out with someone almost entirely unfamiliar with Anime. I remember my first convention in 1999 and the sense of wonderment of it all. I could barely afford anything, but I took such great care of everything I could. I even made my own logos for the bootleg tapes that I had. Series by series, tapes that are loaned out haven't been returned and my collection has receded to a fraction of what it once was. Most of them are available in the US and I could just buy them again, but I'd watch them when exactly?
I get up at 6:30 for work to be out the door by 7. I work until about 7 in the evening, get home around 8, read political journals, chat to people online, and go to bed. There are a lot of serials that I want to watch, but I have to watch them all at once because so many things go through my head so quickly that I have to flush out what I watched the day before just to make room for SQL codes, transient tables, bills to pay, and so on. That's one of the main reasons I quit reading comics. I could never keep track of what was going on and I could never find the previous issue hidden away somewhere in my apartment or car.
This weekend I read comics again for the first time in the year and a half since I was able to regularly follow them. I bought Brian some Sandman comics for his birthday a couple years back and I read them in between other things to do. I've forgotten how much I miss it. When my now ex-girlfriend Camryn and I watched some anime (in my collection that I'd already seen) early this year and late last, it made me start to want to watch Anime again. My former roommate Josh had an impressive collection that I was always going to read "when I get around to it" and my current roommate Jason (not Paris) has some that I will probably read about the same time.
While this all probably sounds self-pitying, it's not. Despite my long hours (and despite a lot of other things), I love my job. I do have time when I get home from work, but I spend that time working on this novel or that. I also read a lot of political magazines (a copy of The New Republic is sitting in front of my keyboard, calling out to me, as I type this), which I find to be very interesting. While I haven't read comic books (or any fiction), I've taken to reading books on the personality type theory. I'm on my fifth right now, there are three more waiting for me on the bookshelf. If I didn't enjoy it, I wouldn't be doing it, and seeing as how I do enjoy it, I'm not complaining about it.
That being said, I do miss the frivolity of just being a media entertainment consumer. I miss seeing movies as they come out and reading comics. I also wonder if I'm boxing myself out by being so out of touch not only with popular culture, but with my geek-culture roots as well. Over the past two years, I've written two novels yet I didn't see Fellowship of the Ring until it was a week away from getting booted out of the theaters and I still haven't seen Star Wars: Episode II
Jason Scott writes "25 years ago today, Ward Christensen and Randy Suess officially announced the creation of a little project they threw together with a 300 baud Hayes modem, a Z-80 based S-100 computer, and a phone line. They called it "Chicago Bulletin Board System" (CBBS) and it was the first dial-up BBS. From this beginning, BBSes grew into the many thousands and became an entire industry, and when the Internet started to mature with the World Wide Web, the users who had cut their teeth on BBSes moved over to it. So raise a toast to these two fellows for a quarter century of great online times."
Had it not been for BBSes, the four forces behind No-Lyfe would never have met.
posted by R. Alex Whitlock at 9:58 PM -
A Snippit of Life: Vague Recollections
She had a beautiful smile. That was the first thing I thought when I saw it. She was also vaguely familiar looking. But hey, I figured, she was smiling at me. Cool stuff!
As I walked past her, she said, "Hello Alex. How're you?"
??
I looked closely at her, trying to place the face. She could see me struggling. "You don't remember me, do you?"
I was actually a little worried. The sense of ease and familiarity she exhibitted suggested that I did, in fact, know her. Did I date a friend of hers or something? Is she a friend of a friend?
Then she said something. I can't remember what precisely, and everything fell right in to place. She could see the Eureka on my face. "So do you remember me now?" she asked.
"I so remember you now!" I said. You're poison!, I thought to myself.
Though I have a general distate for blogs, I rather have a taste for good link-action-Z. So in that spirit, here are a number of politically-themed sites. Enjoy.
I'm not a real classical film buff, so I never heard this tale of golden age actor Rudolph Valentino:
For someone nicknamed "The Great Lover," Valentino struck out big time with his first wife, actress Jean Acker. Six hours after pledging to stay together in good times and in bad, they were putting their vows to the test. And failing. The bride locked Valentino out of their honeymoon suite. He knocked for 20 minutes before heading home. Acker claimed in divorce proceedings that the marriage was never consummated and that she'd dumped the sex symbol for another woman. Legend has it that Valentino, who died in 1926 at age 31, remembered his ex in his will, bequeathing her the sum of one dollar.
That's the best reason I've heard to steer clear of drama queens in a long time!
I think that any time I say that I intend to post something, I'm just jinxing myself. I'll post the followup to my below post on the approaching holiday as soon as I can. Probably tonight. In the meantime, for those of you looking for something humorous-yet-poignant, I present the Intellectual Whores' Relationship Ladder Theory.
I won't comment right now on how accurate I personally believe it is, though it does mirror a theory I mentioned in my first novel: Romantic Capitalism. Whether you agree or not, fun reading!
I was watching TV with my girlfriend and her roommate, when I noticed something a little odd. We were watching a Fed Ex commercial, which showed a guy being packaged and sent to a place to help them with shipping and such. At the end of this commercial, the roommate said, "If only they came in Mexican." meaning of course, that she wished that package didn't include the guy it had there, but a mexican guy. My point is this: Men don't seem to take "the next step" as women do when checking out the opposite sex. During Survivor (yes, I watch it.) they were outraged that they were getting rid of the cute one. and that it didn't matter if he was an asshole or anything, but it only mattered that he was cute. Now, guys may say "Hey, that girl is really hot." But if she got voted out, they wouldn't have a cow about it. And they don't tend to faun over them for long extended periods of time. What is it with girl's obsessions? Oh my GOD Brad Pitt, or Oh MY GOD George Clooney, or OH MY GOD Ben Affeck. It seems odd that they keep up with these things, and mention it whenever they are shown on TV. For example, I like Jennifer Connelly, and maybe I feel that way inside when I see her on screen, but I don't sit there and voice it in a loud manner. But I'm getting off point here. My point is this: I think that women have a fundamentally different way of viewing "hot" guys, with many different standards than men hold for women. It's extremely hard to pin who they will find attractive next.
Well, chalk this up with something else I don't understand about women.
The FreSpaDutchlish Response to the Engrish Post Below
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[Since English is my first language and so I couldn't write it as poorly as the person below did, I just took a semi-coherent, ill-thought-out screed and sent it from English to Spanish, Spanish to English, English to French, French to English, English to Dutch, and Dutch to English. So now you too can speak FreSpaDutchlish!]
I had an argument today, which led to some nasty judicious comments pointed my direction.
Basically the argument involves this question:
Do you drink (alcohol) to get drunk or because you like the taste? Or rather, do you drink ONLY because you like the taste, and NEVER because you actually want to get drunk. Let me define "drunk" for this as well: After the point where you say, "Hey, I got a nice buzz going."
She was very adamant in saying that she only drinks for the taste (she has never gotten drunk), and made the accusation that it is "sad and pathetic" that I drink sometimes to lose control. I countered that most people do drink to get a bit drunk at least, that's the bloody point of its creation. She said, only in moderation, but people who use it get loose and talkative is just plain sad. She said, if you are a shy person by nature, than you should be working on your communication skills rather than drinking to improve it. While I agree with this, in theory...I don't see what's wrong with getting piss-ass drunk every once in awhile. It is fun, and its nice not to be yourself for a little while, and really just break out of the monotony. To give perspective: The last time I did get drunk was on Halloween, and then previously a year and a half beforehand. So obviously I'm not a raging alcoholic, and I'm not heading that way...since as you see I've not gotten drunk since then (almost 4 months now).
Yes, I'm realizing that it can lead to alcoholism, but I'm not sure where she gets off with that when she smokes. I could call that pathetic too (apart from the fact I do divulge in that practice occasionally), and I mentioned that it's related to her smoking every once in awhile......to which she said she never does it in excess.
Oh, and one more thing. She says that "hardly anyone drinks to get drunk." That's just bullshit. And then says since I only know a handful of people that I have no room to talk.
Devra has some solid advice for guys trying to pick up women:
* - Find out what your strongest social skill is, and use it. If you're Mr. Funny, trust that. If you're Mr. Thoughtful, trust that. If you're Mr. Serious Deep Thinker, don't decide all of a sudden to try and be Mr. Funny because you think the funny guys get all the chicks. You are who you are. Use your strengths & rely upon them when you're in a tense social situation (like when first meeting a potentially date-worthy young lady). Stay in your element.
* - Make it easy on yourself - recognize what aspect of your personality comes out when you are in an uncomfortable social situation, and prepare for it. Example: If you get clumsy when you're nervous, prepare yourself for it. Slow down, breathe, be careful when in the vicinity of red wine, and have a good one-liner ready for that inevitable embarrassing moment. You see that pretty girl laughing at you? Look her in the eye, smile and say "I'm a total spaz, aren't I?" She'll probably say yes, but at least it's conversation.
and
* - Except for Poor Hygiene (see the first tip, above), there's nothing a woman finds more repellant than Desperation. Remember this. It's part of our genetic makeup. [Never, ever, ever confuse Nice with Desperate. We do like 'Nice Guys' - in fact, we love 'Nice Guys' - but we are genetically predisposed to reject 'Desperate, Bitter, Self-Loathing Guys'. It might seem unfair, but see the bullet point, above, about Attitude.]
I plan to post on the subject very soon, which is one reason I'm earmarking this one. In the meantime, I'll just point out a good retort from "Hard Pressed" in her comments section:
The comment about not confusing "nice" with "desperate" should be directed at women, not men. First of all, telling a man not to be desperate is like telling him not to be hungry if he hasn't eaten in, oh, several YEARS. ... Before advising men not to act desperate, first, tell me exactly how I'm supposed to do that when I am, in fact, legitimately desperate. Then remind women that when you call a desperate man "nice," you're a) telling him you'd like him more if he were a callous jerk, and b) making a man who feels pretty bad about himself feel a whole lot worse.
I haven't been "desperate" since I was 16 or so, though the line between "nice" and "desperate" and "interested" can be a quite blurry one. I am, for most practical purposes, a "nice guy" and, truth be told being a nice guy isn't the hindrence it used to be. It is, like Hard Pressed says, generally a codeword for "It's not you, it's me" which is code for "I'd rather be consumed whole by water buffalo than date you."
Whatever the case, those that pull from that the idea that they should be a jerk or act embittered has wounds from high school that haven't healed.
That being said, there is a reason that the phrase "coming on too strong" has entered our collective vocabulary. Historically speaking, I've been at both ends of this one. I've come on too strong and paid the price and I've been scared witless by women I'd otherwise be interested in. I am a rather unusual individual in many respects. As such, it's rare that I find someone that I believe myself to be compatible with. I'd say that I've met no more than five such people in the last two years. So, of course, when I do, I run the risk of coming on too strong, which is of course the kiss of death. On the other hand, when I don't feel that way but I feel I might if we spend more time together, I have sent a couple girls into a tailspin as they try to figure out what my intentions are. So how does one walk the tightrope of interested, without being desperate? How much of a poker face does one put on and when did it all get reduced to a card game?
Lest anyone think I'm breaking Devra's Bitter Rule, this is more philosophical than it is personal. For those of you that mistake this for a LiveJournal, I almost never post my feelings as I am feeling them. I mostly do it apropos Valentine's Day and as a segue into a humorous post that's going up tonight or tomorrow about something that happened recently.
posted by R. Alex Whitlock at 3:59 PM -
Something Con-goers Might Be Able To Appreciate (or Loathe)
Jimmy Z points out something very curious about the timing of Ubercon up in New York.
I was driving down to Austin for our one-night make it or break it show (which we most likely broke), when we happened upon an accident (me and my lead singer, riding shotgun). It took up nearly a mile or so of space, and there were lights flashing from every direction. I had a small moment there where I thought I had been transported into a Pink Floyd Concert. I realized something then. Yeah, sure these accidents are terrible, and we all know the effect that they have on traffic. But something made me wonder: How many accidents are caused by people looking at the all the flashing lights, trying to peer into the tragedy, maybe pick out a victim or try to figure out what happened. All this at 80 miles an hour. And I'm not talking about the side of the road on which it happened, but the other side, which is most likely still running smoothly. How many times have people gone, "Man, that's just horrible. I don't know how these things hap-." and then BAM!!
Makes me wonder sometimes.
Solution: Set up a large camera to output some scenes that will be streamed to your car a la television. Place it nicely next to the speedometer, and viola every thing you need to see is nicely shown in full detail and take out all those flashing lights. And here they are... all trying to be discreet. Hah.
I went to the dentist this morning (hold the applause, please) expecting the worst. Though I've gotten into the habit of brushing and flossing daily (again, hold the applause!) since my last four-cavity visit two years ago, my gums have been hurting and I knew that I had at least one cavity. I was preparing for a lecture of gargantuan proportions. Yet... that didn't happen. As the title of the entry suggests, this was a dentist visit truly unlike any other.
Usually: I go in with my teeth feeling fine and then learn that I have a cavity (or four) Today: I go in certain that I have a cavity and find out I don't!
Usually: I want to get out of the dentist's office as quickly as humanly possible. Today: I volunteered to have my teeth cleaned in addition to the X-ray (makes a difference when you have no dental insurance and have already paid admittence)
Usually: Dr. D. asks me something to the effect of "My heavens, do you even know what a toothbrush is?!" Today: Dr. D. tells me that the reason my teeth hurt is that I am brushing too hard!
Usually: Dr. D tells me that if I don't start brushing and flossing more often, all my teeth are going to rot out. Today: Dr. D tells me that if I don't start getting more vitamins, all my teeth are going to fall out because I won't have any gums left.
Usually: I leave fearing the the future health of my mouth. Today: I left fearing for the future health of my mouth.
Political posts are banned from NLJ, with the exception of topical copyright and/or technical stuff. I think this post doesn't count because, well, it's not comprehendable, and since it's everybody's favorite hybrid language, Engrish, very appropriate for a No-Lyfe blog:
In order to make the Americans for the war for Iraq, he is Mr. Powell the UN is some small-numbered thing which it should place in the mind when you lecture.
The Powell is sent in order to carry the water. As for him it is large: the conscience which gives the impression of the person then he takes that order. That is that role. In play of stage, he ends with respect to the thing where every good human everyone does the thing in other things.
The first reason was pretty straightforward. I can't read my own handwriting. Well, I can, but it requires so much effort that I lose interest very quickly and go play on the Internet.
The second reason is that I write things in shorthand and then later have no idea what they mean. For instance, I am now looking at my ToDo list for work and there is an entry called "Photo thinger"
Photo Thinger
Anyone want to take guesses as to what the bloody heck I meant by that?!
Reading over my last post after I posted it, I noticed I spelled the word "where" as "wheeree"...
This is just to give everyone notice that I am not in love with the letter "e"... My keyboard just seems to stick every once in a while on that key... That key and the number 6 on my keypad.... So don't be surprised if a plethora of excess e's show up in my posts.
Just a quick question to all you nifty people out there...
Anyone have a large collection of high quality sound effects? Or know wheeree I can get some for free? I need tons of sound effects for Adjusters and finding good ones is, shall we say... Like searching for a needle in a haymountain.
Kevin Whited and I go to a lot of music shows at the Firehouse Saloon and Mucky Duck together. At the last few shows he's recorded the concerts with his spiffy dat recorder. The one I have is awesome and provides me with a great copy of Randy Rogers singing Bruce Robison's "Travelling Soldier," a song of which I can never have too many copies of (I may even buy the latest Dixie Chicks record because it has it on there). If you go to live music shows, there are very often cover tunes and unreleased tunes that are not available on their records. Matchbox Twenty has a version of Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time" that you can only get in their Live in Australia video release and online. There's also a bootleg of Sinaed O'Conner's "Nothing Compares To You."
Personally, I'd love to have a copy of Phil Pritchett singing "Last Dance With Mary Jane."
Apparently, Great Satan Clear Channel Communications has talked about releasing copies of a live show after they do them. I think it's a spectacular idea, but one unlikely to reach fruition.
It's a great idea because I would gladly pay $15 for the recording of a show I attended. Getting unique copies of songs in which the musicians improvise is invaluable (anyone who has heard the Paris version of Counting Crows "Round Here" will know what I'm talking about). Not only that, but it wouldn't be all that difficult to do. The setup is already there, for the most part. The Firehouse records many of their shows and when the shows end, they'll often play select recordings of it as background music. I've often wondered why (a) more artists don't do their live recordings there (where the quality of the recording is phenomenal) and (b) why they don't talk to artists about doing what GSCCC is. Of course, it'd be much more difficult for a small place like the Firehouse to have them ready at the end of the show, but regardless there is definitely money to be made there.
A lot of it, though, comes down to the discretions of the artists. Alt-rock band Blue October announced some time ago that they frown down on bootlegs because they want to be able to control their artistic output. As a writer, I find that instinct understandable. If I mess up or try something new with a work and it flops, I don't want it to be all over the Internet and such (though I did run that risk with my realtime posting of my NaNoWriMo novel, Something So Perfect, last November). There is also something to be said for it devaluing their studio releases if you can get any given song from fifteen places with fifteen sounds. It also devalues the potential of concert CDs (as we know them now) to the point of being null. On the other hand, thinking of things in terms of "concert CDs" is a concept that I can't help but feel outdated. A product of a time when live recordings were harder and more expensive to make. I also believe that in the end, they'd make more money than they lose.
Except...
I don't see it happening on a large scale. The above mentioned cover tunes would cause a legal nightmare as the artists would have to get rights to any that they do before they do them, and if artists want to control their own output of their doing their own songs, I can barely imagine how anal many would get in regards to other people doing their songs. If an artist is known primarily for doing a single song, it would be annoying to say the least if the file-swapping engines become more flooded with that one time that big name band sang it. They'd lose some of their notoriety.
This is not something that couldn't be overcome. Put something in the contract where Big Name Singer has to say "Hey, this is a song by That Little Band You Are Only Vaguely Familiar With If At All" and I think both BNS and TLBYAOVFWIAA both come out winners. However, that's in the world where money is all that matters and the egos of artists and defensive nature in which many carry themselves would get in the way. While it's safe to say all that the record companies care about is money, that isn't so with many, if not most, artists.
They could cut the covers out of the CD, but that would make me a lot less inclined to buy it. Not just because I want as much as I can get, but rather because I would want the whole show, not select portions of it. I'd pay $25 for a whole show and not $15 for the whole show minus a few songs that would be really cool, save for the legal entanglements. I suspect that what they have in mind is going to be the latter, however. That's just not something I'm as interested in and the roads are capitalism are tattered with the discarded ideas that were lost only because they were handled so cautiously.
