Well, I ordered a new laptop to replace the one that was stolen. Last time I bought a Sony Vaio. It was an adequate machine, but large and clunky, and the fan developed this annoying squeaking sound somewhat reminiscent of an asthmatic rodent.
This time I went with a Dell Inspiron. I upgraded the video card, screen, and RAM. Then, when I made an innocent query regarding the student discount for SCU students, the helpful sales associate person further enhanced my prospective purchase with a DVD burner and some Bluetooth thing. I don't even really know what Bluetooth is exactly, but now I can use it.
In the end I spent a little more than I wanted to, but with my student discount I ended up getting a much better machine than would have otherwise been within my limited means.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
The time value of money
Warning: This post contains examples of misused economic terms and concepts. Those sensitive to the proper construction of financial principles would be advised to skip this entry.
I recently received an email from a user regarding a comment I left on a third user's blog. The letter was somewhat irate, in which I was accused of committing certain heresies against the orthodox of money and it's relationship to happiness. Below is my original comment, reproduced in full, from Purple Haze.
I think the evidence is pretty clear. Money can't buy you happiness. And yet, it seems obviously true that the more you have, the more likely you will be happy.
Money is an enabler. The ultimate enabler, in fact, at least in a capitalist society. Money allows you to do the things you want, or avoid those you'd rather do without. It converts actual time to personal time, real time to free time.
If you can't be happy with money, that speaks volumes about who you are as a person, but it doesn't say anything bad about money.
Just so there is no misunderstanding, I do not believe that money can itself guarantee happiness. Nor do I assert that rich people are necessarily thrilled with life. You can be poor and ecstatic, you can be loaded and miserable. Money is an it, a thing, a possession. It doesn't make anyone do anything. It can't make you happy, nor can it force sadness on you.
However, it is also undeniable that money plays a big role in most of our lives, and the inability to manage it or put it into proper perspective can lead to big problems, and that was the point of my comment. As I said, money is an enabler. It allows you to do things, and the more money you have the more options are available. But it does more than that.
Money is power, and with it you can reduce opportunity costs and limit unpleasant externalities. Financial means allows you to manage your time according to your inclinations, by providing alternative solutions to annoying but necessarily problems. After all, many rich people don't clean their own homes, and they convert the time that would be spent into other pursuits. This then brings me to my comment's second conceit.
If you are rich enough to where you can choose how to spend your time and you aren't happy, that is an indication of a serious deficiency. Where the fault lies would differ with each person, of course, but it should be manifestly obvious that someone relieved of financial concerns has a significant leg up in the pursuit of happiness.
I recently received an email from a user regarding a comment I left on a third user's blog. The letter was somewhat irate, in which I was accused of committing certain heresies against the orthodox of money and it's relationship to happiness. Below is my original comment, reproduced in full, from Purple Haze.
I think the evidence is pretty clear. Money can't buy you happiness. And yet, it seems obviously true that the more you have, the more likely you will be happy.
Money is an enabler. The ultimate enabler, in fact, at least in a capitalist society. Money allows you to do the things you want, or avoid those you'd rather do without. It converts actual time to personal time, real time to free time.
If you can't be happy with money, that speaks volumes about who you are as a person, but it doesn't say anything bad about money.
Just so there is no misunderstanding, I do not believe that money can itself guarantee happiness. Nor do I assert that rich people are necessarily thrilled with life. You can be poor and ecstatic, you can be loaded and miserable. Money is an it, a thing, a possession. It doesn't make anyone do anything. It can't make you happy, nor can it force sadness on you.
However, it is also undeniable that money plays a big role in most of our lives, and the inability to manage it or put it into proper perspective can lead to big problems, and that was the point of my comment. As I said, money is an enabler. It allows you to do things, and the more money you have the more options are available. But it does more than that.
Money is power, and with it you can reduce opportunity costs and limit unpleasant externalities. Financial means allows you to manage your time according to your inclinations, by providing alternative solutions to annoying but necessarily problems. After all, many rich people don't clean their own homes, and they convert the time that would be spent into other pursuits. This then brings me to my comment's second conceit.
If you are rich enough to where you can choose how to spend your time and you aren't happy, that is an indication of a serious deficiency. Where the fault lies would differ with each person, of course, but it should be manifestly obvious that someone relieved of financial concerns has a significant leg up in the pursuit of happiness.
Friday, August 25, 2006
The limitations of unfocused ambitions
I have taken away one lesson of principle importance from my screenwriting class yesterday, and that is my own woeful inability to meet my artistic expectations. That is not necessarily very surprising; it was only the first class. Still, I cannot escape this persistent, if pessimistic, sensation of impending failure. The problem, you see, is dialogue.
Screenwriting had always held two great interests. First, I had hoped that the firm structure would help focus my often disparate aspirations. And second, crafting dialogue and conveying the nature of a person through their words has always seemed like an engaging challenge.
My estimations of the genre's dimensions have proven accurate, but my particular talents may not be well suited to the task. I find myself extremely dissatisfied with my varying efforts constructing conversations. The words just feel stilted or artificial, the characters far from engaging. In large part, I blame my own writing style.
Some people are kind enough to remark favorably on my literary endeavors, and I think it within the bounds of respectable modesty to admit that I harbor some degree of pride in my writing. Even so, my voice does not seem well suited to that of others. This style that now characterizes my composition, for whatever pleasant particularities may arise in prose, has not carried over into dialogue.
I do not write as people speak. I don't even write as I speak. In fact, my own conversation is marked by nothing as cumbersome, nor as when it may arise, as elegant, as comes from my pen. How this happened I'm not quite sure, but it is now a matter of some frustration.
Of course, it is not necessarily a fatal defect, the application of aberrant discourse. Some of my favorite movies and television shows are stocked full of characters unusually and perhaps even impossibly erudite. So if it were simply a matter of big words or clever phrases, I should be okay. Unfortunately, my limitations are somewhat less forgiving.
Aside from any inability to actually write in the manner the genre demands, I also seem to suffer from a distinct lack of concept. Everyone else has apparently entered the class with some long cherished storyline. Although they naturally vary according to the talents and dedication of the authors, the best offerings are wonderfully intricate, and bring my own inadequacies into stark focus.
I knew, coming into this, that I would have a lot of work ahead of me. But to be perfectly honest, I had not expected to be so completely unprepared. Perhaps my own expectations were unrealistic, and certainly it would not require the fulfillment of standards to which I hold myself simply to pass (although the grade and credits are in every way irrelevant). However, I first took this class in order to satisfy my own artistic desires. Now that I am faced with the possibility of failure, in personal if not absolute terms, I cannot help but regret the enterprising inclination that led me to try in the first place.
Screenwriting had always held two great interests. First, I had hoped that the firm structure would help focus my often disparate aspirations. And second, crafting dialogue and conveying the nature of a person through their words has always seemed like an engaging challenge.
My estimations of the genre's dimensions have proven accurate, but my particular talents may not be well suited to the task. I find myself extremely dissatisfied with my varying efforts constructing conversations. The words just feel stilted or artificial, the characters far from engaging. In large part, I blame my own writing style.
Some people are kind enough to remark favorably on my literary endeavors, and I think it within the bounds of respectable modesty to admit that I harbor some degree of pride in my writing. Even so, my voice does not seem well suited to that of others. This style that now characterizes my composition, for whatever pleasant particularities may arise in prose, has not carried over into dialogue.
I do not write as people speak. I don't even write as I speak. In fact, my own conversation is marked by nothing as cumbersome, nor as when it may arise, as elegant, as comes from my pen. How this happened I'm not quite sure, but it is now a matter of some frustration.
Of course, it is not necessarily a fatal defect, the application of aberrant discourse. Some of my favorite movies and television shows are stocked full of characters unusually and perhaps even impossibly erudite. So if it were simply a matter of big words or clever phrases, I should be okay. Unfortunately, my limitations are somewhat less forgiving.
Aside from any inability to actually write in the manner the genre demands, I also seem to suffer from a distinct lack of concept. Everyone else has apparently entered the class with some long cherished storyline. Although they naturally vary according to the talents and dedication of the authors, the best offerings are wonderfully intricate, and bring my own inadequacies into stark focus.
I knew, coming into this, that I would have a lot of work ahead of me. But to be perfectly honest, I had not expected to be so completely unprepared. Perhaps my own expectations were unrealistic, and certainly it would not require the fulfillment of standards to which I hold myself simply to pass (although the grade and credits are in every way irrelevant). However, I first took this class in order to satisfy my own artistic desires. Now that I am faced with the possibility of failure, in personal if not absolute terms, I cannot help but regret the enterprising inclination that led me to try in the first place.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Somewhat more organized than before
I have now included a categories section in my sidebar, and have begun the process of organizing my posts. Most of them have been included in one or more of the listed divisions.
Unfortunately, the blogger tools themselves don't allow for any easy way to achieve this degree of categorization. If anyone wants to know how I did it, see the guide here.
Unfortunately, the blogger tools themselves don't allow for any easy way to achieve this degree of categorization. If anyone wants to know how I did it, see the guide here.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Sometimes you wonder if you're doing the right thing, then God sends you a sign and everything is clear again
My family recently received an invitation to a wedding reception. The sister of one of my brother's childhood friends is getting married, and though the ceremony is occurring in Washington, they made the gesture of sending us an invitation. Nice enough, by most standards I suppose, and yet I have it in me to be offended. For you see, there's a reason why the invitation is to the reception alone.
The people in question are Mormons, and the unelect are not permitted to sully the actual sacrament with their presence. As if that weren't offensive enough, they then expect others to happily attend a celebration of a union inaugurated in, if not quite defined by, the exclusion of otherwise valued friends and associates on the basis of religion. For my own part, I think it represents a particular lack of shame to slap people in the face and then invite them in for booze and a buffet so they can toast to your good health.
Although I am ever aware of my good fortune to have reached such a state, these occurrences make me feel even better about my atheism. I should not like to turn this post into a polemic against Mormonism or religion in general (topics for another time), and I deny nobody their right to choose their own associations along such lines as they may feel prudent.
Even so, I can't help but feel at every turn the vindication of compassionate reason. The test should rely on the humanity of a person's beliefs, not their form. A test the high-minded monothiesms seem to fail in proportion to their ability to influence social policy.
When someone's religion or politics offend me, they do so not because they use unleavened bread in the Eucharist or because they think Ann Coulter actually represents someone with the semblance of intelligence and respectability. The manner in which people choose to believe, although it often expresses itself in ways I personally find curious or amusing, is in the end irrelevant. It's what you do with those beliefs.
If you use them to abuse or degrade others, that's when I object. When, as is so often the case, they allow the expression of vile and hateful sentiments cloaked within the auspice of true revelation, it is not merely proper but right and even necessary that they are challenged. In a just world, they will not stand such scrutiny. In ours, it remains to be seen.
The people in question are Mormons, and the unelect are not permitted to sully the actual sacrament with their presence. As if that weren't offensive enough, they then expect others to happily attend a celebration of a union inaugurated in, if not quite defined by, the exclusion of otherwise valued friends and associates on the basis of religion. For my own part, I think it represents a particular lack of shame to slap people in the face and then invite them in for booze and a buffet so they can toast to your good health.
Although I am ever aware of my good fortune to have reached such a state, these occurrences make me feel even better about my atheism. I should not like to turn this post into a polemic against Mormonism or religion in general (topics for another time), and I deny nobody their right to choose their own associations along such lines as they may feel prudent.
Even so, I can't help but feel at every turn the vindication of compassionate reason. The test should rely on the humanity of a person's beliefs, not their form. A test the high-minded monothiesms seem to fail in proportion to their ability to influence social policy.
When someone's religion or politics offend me, they do so not because they use unleavened bread in the Eucharist or because they think Ann Coulter actually represents someone with the semblance of intelligence and respectability. The manner in which people choose to believe, although it often expresses itself in ways I personally find curious or amusing, is in the end irrelevant. It's what you do with those beliefs.
If you use them to abuse or degrade others, that's when I object. When, as is so often the case, they allow the expression of vile and hateful sentiments cloaked within the auspice of true revelation, it is not merely proper but right and even necessary that they are challenged. In a just world, they will not stand such scrutiny. In ours, it remains to be seen.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Spectator Sports
Although I do not indulge in the ostentatious resuscitation of former and impending disasters that has become cable news, nonetheless I endeavor to remain abreast of current events. So it is that I, like the rest of America, am aware that someone by the name of John Karr has confessed to the 1996 murder of JonBenet Ramsey.
Leaving aside the specifics of this particular case, I am left wondering at what point individual tragedy became a spectator sport. There have always been violent people. I'm sure back in caveman times, there must have been a Cro-Magnon by the name of Grog who just couldn't deal with the stress of the daily hunt and decided to take his stone club to a few of his subterranean neighbors.
But although there have always been violent people, has there always been a market for this narrative, or are we just more degenerate than our predecessors? I admit I do not know the answer, though I suspect the reality is that our means simply provide us with a way to fulfill and even exceed our macabre interests to a degree unimagined by previous generations. Either way, violence on this scale, although undeniably unfortunate, should not be the subject of national interest.
To be sure, I do not mean to belitte the death of another human being. But really, nothing involving Scott Peterson or OJ Simpson or John Kerr is the least bit relevant to my life. National news should not become the aggregation of personal loss. It is a disservice to us, yes, and to the victims as well, who do not deserve to have their own grief aired for public examination.
Not only isn't it the proper subject upon which to focus national attention, but this fascination with individual incidents stems, I suspect, from voyeuristic and degenerate impulses. Unfortunately, we live in a society where the loss of life, although far from trivial, is nonetheless accepted. These reports serve to titillate, not to inform. They provide details, unnecessary and preferably intimate, their value increasing in relationship to their extremity.
Tragey is a spectator sport now. Popular, lucrative too, and completely unworthy of a humane society.
Leaving aside the specifics of this particular case, I am left wondering at what point individual tragedy became a spectator sport. There have always been violent people. I'm sure back in caveman times, there must have been a Cro-Magnon by the name of Grog who just couldn't deal with the stress of the daily hunt and decided to take his stone club to a few of his subterranean neighbors.
But although there have always been violent people, has there always been a market for this narrative, or are we just more degenerate than our predecessors? I admit I do not know the answer, though I suspect the reality is that our means simply provide us with a way to fulfill and even exceed our macabre interests to a degree unimagined by previous generations. Either way, violence on this scale, although undeniably unfortunate, should not be the subject of national interest.
To be sure, I do not mean to belitte the death of another human being. But really, nothing involving Scott Peterson or OJ Simpson or John Kerr is the least bit relevant to my life. National news should not become the aggregation of personal loss. It is a disservice to us, yes, and to the victims as well, who do not deserve to have their own grief aired for public examination.
Not only isn't it the proper subject upon which to focus national attention, but this fascination with individual incidents stems, I suspect, from voyeuristic and degenerate impulses. Unfortunately, we live in a society where the loss of life, although far from trivial, is nonetheless accepted. These reports serve to titillate, not to inform. They provide details, unnecessary and preferably intimate, their value increasing in relationship to their extremity.
Tragey is a spectator sport now. Popular, lucrative too, and completely unworthy of a humane society.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
It was a dark and stormy night...
Earlier this evening I met with a woman, Gina, and together we resembled a writing group. I had answered her post on Craigslist, and to my surprise, something actually came of it. Not that Craigslist isn't a useful venue, because it is, but most of the people on there are either flakes or in the grips of some severe psychosis.
In any case, we met at a Starbucks in Mountain View, traded stories and comments, and an hour later resolved to meet again. I thought the encounter was pleasant, entertainment and personal improvement rarely go together so conveniently. It was originally my hope that a writing group will help provide the focus and reinforce my flagging enthusiasm, and though I feel no overwhelming urge to grab my pen and craft the Great American Novel, I think it likely at least that this collaboration will result in more and better literature.
In any case, we met at a Starbucks in Mountain View, traded stories and comments, and an hour later resolved to meet again. I thought the encounter was pleasant, entertainment and personal improvement rarely go together so conveniently. It was originally my hope that a writing group will help provide the focus and reinforce my flagging enthusiasm, and though I feel no overwhelming urge to grab my pen and craft the Great American Novel, I think it likely at least that this collaboration will result in more and better literature.
The five best dramas you aren't watching, Vol 2: Comedy
A few weeks ago I commended to your attentions a selection of Japanese dramatic television programs. I know, in all likelihood, that nobody bothered to give them anything more than a moment's notice, if even that much. But that's okay. I remain unfazed, and in a triumph of enthusiasm over experience, present this second volume.
Even more than romance, comedy relies on the personal outlook and experiences of the audience to make its connections. We all expect more or less the same things from a romance, but humor knows few such commonalities. It has its conventions, but they can only go so far. To connect with an audience, you have to be funny in a particular way. In order to satisfy some, you have to neglect others.
Thus it is with that preamble, as a sort of warning, I now present the five best comedic Japanese television series you aren't watching. As always, your milage may vary.
The five shows are presented in no particular order, again without syllabi for the same reasons I outlined in Volume One. However, I can furnish a synopsis upon request, and am more than happy to answer any questions regarding the attainment or utilization of these works.
1. Odoru Daisousasen (Police investigation headquarters)
2. Great Teacher Onizuka
3. Dekichatta Kekkon (Shotgun Marriage)
4. Wedding Planner
5. Kisarazu Cats Eye
Honorable Mention:
101 kaime no puropozu (101st Proposal): This show requires a little more appreciation of Japanese character conventions. People unfamiliar with the show will find the main character pathetic (as intended) but may not find the humor.
Densha Otoko (Train Man): Not that I didn't find it funny, because I did, but the main character and the female lead are both a little too generic for me. It's like they took all the cliches and piled them into one show. Also, as with 101st proposal, the characters (especially the men) require some degree of acceptance of Japanese mores. Still, quite amusing.
Omiai Kekkon (Arranged Marriage): This show is very funny, but the unavailability of any copy even resembling adequate video quality with English subtitles relegates this series to the Honorable Mention category.
Gokusen: Because I already included one school show (Great Teacher Onizuka), I decided to skip this one. Personally, I think they are pretty much interchangeable, although I liked some of the film schticks and the soundtrack in Gokusen a lot.
Lunch no Joou (Lunch Queen): A little formulaic, this is one of those shows where everyone falls for the vulnerable yet fiercely independent female lead. However, the cast and the writing can usually keep you from noticing the cookie cutter outlines.
Sutaa no Koi (A Star's Love): Going from a little formuliac to out-right hackery, Kusanagi Tsuyoshi and the rest of the San Marco Ham staff pull out such wonderful performances that you don't mind coming along.
Most of these shows can be downloaded for free, along with their subtitles, at D-Addicts, the rest from Japan-TV.
Even more than romance, comedy relies on the personal outlook and experiences of the audience to make its connections. We all expect more or less the same things from a romance, but humor knows few such commonalities. It has its conventions, but they can only go so far. To connect with an audience, you have to be funny in a particular way. In order to satisfy some, you have to neglect others.
Thus it is with that preamble, as a sort of warning, I now present the five best comedic Japanese television series you aren't watching. As always, your milage may vary.
The five shows are presented in no particular order, again without syllabi for the same reasons I outlined in Volume One. However, I can furnish a synopsis upon request, and am more than happy to answer any questions regarding the attainment or utilization of these works.
1. Odoru Daisousasen (Police investigation headquarters)
2. Great Teacher Onizuka
3. Dekichatta Kekkon (Shotgun Marriage)
4. Wedding Planner
5. Kisarazu Cats Eye
Honorable Mention:
101 kaime no puropozu (101st Proposal): This show requires a little more appreciation of Japanese character conventions. People unfamiliar with the show will find the main character pathetic (as intended) but may not find the humor.
Densha Otoko (Train Man): Not that I didn't find it funny, because I did, but the main character and the female lead are both a little too generic for me. It's like they took all the cliches and piled them into one show. Also, as with 101st proposal, the characters (especially the men) require some degree of acceptance of Japanese mores. Still, quite amusing.
Omiai Kekkon (Arranged Marriage): This show is very funny, but the unavailability of any copy even resembling adequate video quality with English subtitles relegates this series to the Honorable Mention category.
Gokusen: Because I already included one school show (Great Teacher Onizuka), I decided to skip this one. Personally, I think they are pretty much interchangeable, although I liked some of the film schticks and the soundtrack in Gokusen a lot.
Lunch no Joou (Lunch Queen): A little formulaic, this is one of those shows where everyone falls for the vulnerable yet fiercely independent female lead. However, the cast and the writing can usually keep you from noticing the cookie cutter outlines.
Sutaa no Koi (A Star's Love): Going from a little formuliac to out-right hackery, Kusanagi Tsuyoshi and the rest of the San Marco Ham staff pull out such wonderful performances that you don't mind coming along.
Most of these shows can be downloaded for free, along with their subtitles, at D-Addicts, the rest from Japan-TV.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Who even has time for anything like Civil Liberties anymore?
The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.
- Fourth Amendment to the United States Constitution
Who has time for a little thing like civil liberties? Well, according to this article, not the Secretary of Homeland Security. In asserting the need to expand police powers for the War on Terror, Secretary Chertoff states that "It's not like the 20th century, where you had time to get warrants."
Hooray for progress, I suppose.
- Fourth Amendment to the United States Constitution
Who has time for a little thing like civil liberties? Well, according to this article, not the Secretary of Homeland Security. In asserting the need to expand police powers for the War on Terror, Secretary Chertoff states that "It's not like the 20th century, where you had time to get warrants."
Hooray for progress, I suppose.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
I am the very model of a Holy Roman Emperor
I have information vegetable, animal, and mineral.
Sorry.
Just got back from playing Here I Stand, a six-player wargame made by GMT. I took the role of Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain too, as if either one weren't good enough. After a grueling struggle, I can say with pride that I kept the Turks at bay, humbled France, and put the heretics in their place. All in all, I was quite the enlightened despot.
Sorry.
Just got back from playing Here I Stand, a six-player wargame made by GMT. I took the role of Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain too, as if either one weren't good enough. After a grueling struggle, I can say with pride that I kept the Turks at bay, humbled France, and put the heretics in their place. All in all, I was quite the enlightened despot.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
The Whore of Blogylon
Am I the only one who thinks those Adsense bars are a little ridiculous? To my mind, they mar an otherwise excellent format for personal expression, a brash bourgeois intrusion into otherwise thoughtful narratives. Whenever I see one, I always wonder what the blogger was thinking when he or she signed up.
Now, I am the first one to admit that if I believed there was real money in it, I should abandon my artistic integrity and proudly peddle links of dubious utility. And of course, something is always better than nothing, especially since in this case the "cost" is somewhat ephemeral, and indeed to some perhaps non-existent. It is easy to put sign up for AdSense, and it's burdens are actually quite slight.
If it made me any money that would be more than I had before, and I would seem none the worse for it. However, I think in a real sense there would be a price to be paid for free money. I do not intend to criticize anyone who may employ AdSense, after all it's their blog to do with as they will, but I can't help but think that the pittance they offer is an insufficient incentive to become a tool of commercial advertising.
Relatively harmless, if somewhat demeaning, AdSense may be. Unfortunately, some other people have chosen less innocuous forms of advertising revenue. I hate to encounter pop-ups of any kind, and I have yet to encounter any truly malicious, but there are many blogs that trigger these unprovoked windows. Some of these ads contain brutal, vicious viruses or worms. Others, maybe, "merely" annoying adware.
But there is an injury even aside from technological inconveniences. I know it might seem strange, but I have it in me to be personally offended at the attempted usurpation of my attentions. After all I think I should be free to govern for myself the advertising content I consider. Each precocious pop-up just makes me want to leave the place that much sooner.
Of course, it should go without saying that the standards differ depending on whether the site in question is personal and professional. But even commercial sites, in my opinion, would do well to craft less obtrusive advertisements.
Now, I am the first one to admit that if I believed there was real money in it, I should abandon my artistic integrity and proudly peddle links of dubious utility. And of course, something is always better than nothing, especially since in this case the "cost" is somewhat ephemeral, and indeed to some perhaps non-existent. It is easy to put sign up for AdSense, and it's burdens are actually quite slight.
If it made me any money that would be more than I had before, and I would seem none the worse for it. However, I think in a real sense there would be a price to be paid for free money. I do not intend to criticize anyone who may employ AdSense, after all it's their blog to do with as they will, but I can't help but think that the pittance they offer is an insufficient incentive to become a tool of commercial advertising.
Relatively harmless, if somewhat demeaning, AdSense may be. Unfortunately, some other people have chosen less innocuous forms of advertising revenue. I hate to encounter pop-ups of any kind, and I have yet to encounter any truly malicious, but there are many blogs that trigger these unprovoked windows. Some of these ads contain brutal, vicious viruses or worms. Others, maybe, "merely" annoying adware.
But there is an injury even aside from technological inconveniences. I know it might seem strange, but I have it in me to be personally offended at the attempted usurpation of my attentions. After all I think I should be free to govern for myself the advertising content I consider. Each precocious pop-up just makes me want to leave the place that much sooner.
Of course, it should go without saying that the standards differ depending on whether the site in question is personal and professional. But even commercial sites, in my opinion, would do well to craft less obtrusive advertisements.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Revelation in the face of oncoming traffic
Previous posts have documented a sense of general discontent that permeates my current existence. This despondency seems, on the outside, somewhat odd, especially given my systematic efforts to avoid anything resembling work - even as to such tasks as might suit my talents and disposition. Sloth and procrastination are two of my more able skills, yet it seems I may have honed them too sharply.
However, the next six months promise changes even I cannot evade. The imminent completion of law school, and the (hopefully) ensuing bar success brings my future into sharp focus. A legal education is not cheap, and I even have some loans from my undergraduate studies. These obligations promise to serve as the defining characteristics of my financial and professional realities for the foreseeable future.
I have avoided facing them so long as I could, an act of childish self-absorption I know, yet for all I aspire to reason and maturity, so characteristic as to be cliche. Completion of law school triggers a temporary grace period, after which my loans require repayment and my options diminish from a spectacular host of the possible to the cruel reality of the necessary.
Let it not be said, though, that I am completely hopeless. This term, in addition to my legal studies (which, I should say, have never received from me the proper attention they deserve) I have enrolled in Screenwriting at a local community college, and expect to enroll in a Digital Video class at the UC Extension, contingent on financing. These are fields that have always captivated my interests, and I've long intended to consider them in a more formal and professional setting.
I do this without expectation that it will save me from forty years of legal toil, a prospect of little joy but free, at least, from dread. Neither my beginning screenwriting class nor my introduction to digital filming will result in anything other than amateurish pretension. But that's okay. I am doing this for myself, and finally too, action brought on by the uncomfrotable revelation of impending fates. Nobody knows what the future holds, but if I am consigned to a life of unfulfilled hopes, I should not want the failure to have been one of mere effort.
However, the next six months promise changes even I cannot evade. The imminent completion of law school, and the (hopefully) ensuing bar success brings my future into sharp focus. A legal education is not cheap, and I even have some loans from my undergraduate studies. These obligations promise to serve as the defining characteristics of my financial and professional realities for the foreseeable future.
I have avoided facing them so long as I could, an act of childish self-absorption I know, yet for all I aspire to reason and maturity, so characteristic as to be cliche. Completion of law school triggers a temporary grace period, after which my loans require repayment and my options diminish from a spectacular host of the possible to the cruel reality of the necessary.
Let it not be said, though, that I am completely hopeless. This term, in addition to my legal studies (which, I should say, have never received from me the proper attention they deserve) I have enrolled in Screenwriting at a local community college, and expect to enroll in a Digital Video class at the UC Extension, contingent on financing. These are fields that have always captivated my interests, and I've long intended to consider them in a more formal and professional setting.
I do this without expectation that it will save me from forty years of legal toil, a prospect of little joy but free, at least, from dread. Neither my beginning screenwriting class nor my introduction to digital filming will result in anything other than amateurish pretension. But that's okay. I am doing this for myself, and finally too, action brought on by the uncomfrotable revelation of impending fates. Nobody knows what the future holds, but if I am consigned to a life of unfulfilled hopes, I should not want the failure to have been one of mere effort.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Pointless Factoid XVI
The Standard Deviation is the average distance of any set of values from a mean. It's also a fairly middling blog that sucks the life out of its readers one post at a time.
Image courtesy of SDSU, used without permission but with much admiration.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Doctor, doctor, Mr. MD, can't you see what's ailing me?
I can't believe Doctor Phil has his own television show. I can't believe companies pay money for ad space during that inane hour, and I can't believe people actually watch. Yet all those things are true, and I am left baffled. What is it exactly that people see in that bloated sack of insipid pontification? Do they like that he "confronts" people? Is it simply the "suck it up, loser" tone? Or is he, for some, a figure of genuine insight?
It is the easiest thing in the world to tell others what they should do. This is because most tough decisions are really quite easy, objectively speaking. When weighing the alternatives and the costs, recognizing the proper choice is often a small matter. If you don't have the pay consequences yourself, it is easy to tell someone else what they should do. And this speaks to the heart of the matter. It isn't figuring out which choice is the right one that's tough, it's sticking to your guns and paying the price.
That's my problem with people who, like Dr. Phil, become rich celebrities by peddling easy answers. It's a simple matter to tell someone else to suck it up and get off the couch, but actually doing it is much harder (judging by his own physique, the good doctor has some experience in this).
It is the easiest thing in the world to tell others what they should do. This is because most tough decisions are really quite easy, objectively speaking. When weighing the alternatives and the costs, recognizing the proper choice is often a small matter. If you don't have the pay consequences yourself, it is easy to tell someone else what they should do. And this speaks to the heart of the matter. It isn't figuring out which choice is the right one that's tough, it's sticking to your guns and paying the price.
That's my problem with people who, like Dr. Phil, become rich celebrities by peddling easy answers. It's a simple matter to tell someone else to suck it up and get off the couch, but actually doing it is much harder (judging by his own physique, the good doctor has some experience in this).
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Life through the rear-view mirror
I am often surprised by the cavalier disregard for the past people are given to express after a life changing experience. Encapsulating this attitude is the statement "I have no regrets". I don't understand what this means, or at least, I don't see how it could be true. A critical step in any irrevocable alteration, the curious boast seems to me little more than denial.
I lead an easy life. Although, in no sense of the term, financially endowed, still I lack for no necessities and am even able to pursue my hobbies with few restrictions. I like who I am, for the most part, and many of the decisions I have made seem to be right, or at least right for me. In short, I'm doing okay. And yet still, I have many regrets.
In fact, it seems to me that life itself is little more than the aggregation of regrets, and triumphs too, interest compounded from the choices we have made. The story of our lives told, in black ink or red, each entry one path over the other. To do one thing, we must neglect another. Opportunity costs and time eventually foreclosed some routes forever.
Already at the age of twenty-six (which I know to be no great achievement, but it is the only age I can be) I feel the weight of my regrets. Personal, professional, intellectual. Who I am. How I treat others. Where I am going. Even so, my discontent is not general, but specific. It has less to do with how things are now than how I got here, and what it cost me along the way.
Some of these disappointments may stay with me my whole life. Others might fade over time. Perhaps a few will make a better person out of me. Certainly they contribute to the eclectic host of talents, beliefs, and faults that consist this one man. In the end, I do not bemoan my fate.
I like who I am.
But I wonder if I could have been better. Better to myself maybe, or perhaps to others. Better not financially or professionally (which for me means scholastically), although those would be fine improvements too, but better in the sense that I had done more with what I had, or given more to others. I have my regrets, and they are as much a part of me as my jubilations. I have them, I keep them, at times I even brood upon them, and I have no regrets about that.
I lead an easy life. Although, in no sense of the term, financially endowed, still I lack for no necessities and am even able to pursue my hobbies with few restrictions. I like who I am, for the most part, and many of the decisions I have made seem to be right, or at least right for me. In short, I'm doing okay. And yet still, I have many regrets.
In fact, it seems to me that life itself is little more than the aggregation of regrets, and triumphs too, interest compounded from the choices we have made. The story of our lives told, in black ink or red, each entry one path over the other. To do one thing, we must neglect another. Opportunity costs and time eventually foreclosed some routes forever.
Already at the age of twenty-six (which I know to be no great achievement, but it is the only age I can be) I feel the weight of my regrets. Personal, professional, intellectual. Who I am. How I treat others. Where I am going. Even so, my discontent is not general, but specific. It has less to do with how things are now than how I got here, and what it cost me along the way.
Some of these disappointments may stay with me my whole life. Others might fade over time. Perhaps a few will make a better person out of me. Certainly they contribute to the eclectic host of talents, beliefs, and faults that consist this one man. In the end, I do not bemoan my fate.
I like who I am.
But I wonder if I could have been better. Better to myself maybe, or perhaps to others. Better not financially or professionally (which for me means scholastically), although those would be fine improvements too, but better in the sense that I had done more with what I had, or given more to others. I have my regrets, and they are as much a part of me as my jubilations. I have them, I keep them, at times I even brood upon them, and I have no regrets about that.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
The five best dramas you aren't watching, Vol 1: Romance
In my spare time, I help subtitle Japanese television shows into English with Japan-TV. Now, I don't actually speak Japanese (although I seem to be learning some through osmosis). What I do is take the rough translations and transform it into something resembling the King's English. It can be a difficult job at times. Much depends on the quality of the translator's work, but even with an excellent translation, the editor (me) still has a hard road ahead.
Always there is the balance between strict accuracy and elegance. If the subtitles are flat and unimpressive, that will weigh against the show, no matter how compelling the acting or setting. But at the same time, the desire to draft dialogue has to adhere to the responsibility to convey the original work as accurately as possible. Anything else would be disrespectful. it is a constant challenge, but an engaging one.
Like American television, most of these shows are mediocre at best. They adhere to their own conventions with all the slavish devotions to cliche and cheap laughs of a Friends or otherwise intellectually and artistically bankrupt sit-com. But, as also with American television, there are the gems too. The following are a list of five shows I heartily recommend to anyone.
Even if you aren't a fan of Japanese media, or if you aren't yet familiar with any of it (although an increasing number of people are becoming familiar at least with anime, in some cases even if they don't know it), these shows stand on their own merit. As is their custom, each of these shows comprise 10-12 one hour episodes, so the entire show can be seen with a relatively slight investment.
I have listed them in no particular order, and I have posted a link to where they can be found. I have not included a synopsis, partialy because I didn't like how any of the ones I drafted turned out (it's early here and I'm tired) and partialy because I'm lazy. I'll be happy to answer any questions about them though, including how to get them and how to play them. If anyone asks for a specific synopsis then at some point I'll try and write one up. You can find some descriptions at Japan-TV or Jdorama, but they are often very poorly written, especially the ones at Jdorama.
1. Slow Dance Download it at D-Addicts.
2. Long Vacation Download it at Japan-TV.
3. Beautiful Life Download it at Japan-TV.
4. Tokyo Love Story Download it at D-Addicts.
5. Meguri Ai Download it at D-Addicts.
Honorable Mention:
Kimi Wa Petto I contemplated including this with the top five, but it isn't really a romance per se, more a character study of people with emotional walls of varying difficulty. The premise is a little absurd, but it serves to allow for development that would otherwise be impossible. A good, strong show.
Orange Days I didn't like it quite as much as it seems others did. It was alright, but a little formulaic for me. In my opinion, the cast's popularity accounted for more of the show's success than its actual merits.
Moto Kare It has a good cast and a good premise, but it devolved quickly into one big cliche after another. The character of Makoto, and her portrayal by Hirosue Ryoko (Ryoko Hirosue) were the highpoints of the program. Worth a watch, but it starts slow and ends flat, with only a good middle to sustain it.
Anego Not so much a romance as a search for romance show, the main character was engaging, but there just wasn't enough going on to merit a true endorsement, and one of the sideplots was kinda dumb and took a long time to resolve.
Always there is the balance between strict accuracy and elegance. If the subtitles are flat and unimpressive, that will weigh against the show, no matter how compelling the acting or setting. But at the same time, the desire to draft dialogue has to adhere to the responsibility to convey the original work as accurately as possible. Anything else would be disrespectful. it is a constant challenge, but an engaging one.
Like American television, most of these shows are mediocre at best. They adhere to their own conventions with all the slavish devotions to cliche and cheap laughs of a Friends or otherwise intellectually and artistically bankrupt sit-com. But, as also with American television, there are the gems too. The following are a list of five shows I heartily recommend to anyone.
Even if you aren't a fan of Japanese media, or if you aren't yet familiar with any of it (although an increasing number of people are becoming familiar at least with anime, in some cases even if they don't know it), these shows stand on their own merit. As is their custom, each of these shows comprise 10-12 one hour episodes, so the entire show can be seen with a relatively slight investment.
I have listed them in no particular order, and I have posted a link to where they can be found. I have not included a synopsis, partialy because I didn't like how any of the ones I drafted turned out (it's early here and I'm tired) and partialy because I'm lazy. I'll be happy to answer any questions about them though, including how to get them and how to play them. If anyone asks for a specific synopsis then at some point I'll try and write one up. You can find some descriptions at Japan-TV or Jdorama, but they are often very poorly written, especially the ones at Jdorama.
1. Slow Dance Download it at D-Addicts.
2. Long Vacation Download it at Japan-TV.
3. Beautiful Life Download it at Japan-TV.
4. Tokyo Love Story Download it at D-Addicts.
5. Meguri Ai Download it at D-Addicts.
Honorable Mention:
Kimi Wa Petto I contemplated including this with the top five, but it isn't really a romance per se, more a character study of people with emotional walls of varying difficulty. The premise is a little absurd, but it serves to allow for development that would otherwise be impossible. A good, strong show.
Orange Days I didn't like it quite as much as it seems others did. It was alright, but a little formulaic for me. In my opinion, the cast's popularity accounted for more of the show's success than its actual merits.
Moto Kare It has a good cast and a good premise, but it devolved quickly into one big cliche after another. The character of Makoto, and her portrayal by Hirosue Ryoko (Ryoko Hirosue) were the highpoints of the program. Worth a watch, but it starts slow and ends flat, with only a good middle to sustain it.
Anego Not so much a romance as a search for romance show, the main character was engaging, but there just wasn't enough going on to merit a true endorsement, and one of the sideplots was kinda dumb and took a long time to resolve.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Somehow I doubt that
| Slow and Steady |
 Your friends see you as painstaking and fussy. They see you as very cautious, extremely careful, a slow and steady plodder. It'd really surprise them if you ever did something impulsively or on the spur of the moment. They expect you to examine everything carefully from every angle and then usually decide against it. |
Is it just me, or do these quiz things rarely if ever actually describe you? Of course, it could be that they capture you perfectly, but by failing to reflect the person you'd like to think you are, they disappoint. Either way, I'm pretty sure this one missed the mark.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Who are you, and what the hell are you doing here?
Way back in February of 2005, Carol left the following comment:
Your website is very interesting. You appear to be a very deep thinking person. What the heck does someone like you enjoy about a "mommy blog"?
As it happens, I'm actually just an exceedingly shallow thinking person, but the vast array of subjects I touch on provides the illusion of depth. Don't tell anyone though. In any case, it is her question rather than her appraisal that forms the basis of this post.
What the hell was I doing on your blog when I posted a comment?
Blogs fascinate me. I like to read them. There are many things in this world I will never get to experience for myself, and what's more, anything I do encounter I can only do as myself. For all the class, intelligence, style, and grace that perspective may hold, it is in the end, finite. A few clicks enlarges my range exponentially, alien snapshots conjoined into a gallery of dizzying diversity. So if you maintain a blog, thank you. It can be a lot of work, but you do more good than you know.
If you are newly come to this site, or if you have thus far engaged already in reciprical commentaries, allow me to reassure you that you needn't leave a comment just because I did. Of course, you are welcome to comment. I enjoy reading them, and it helps me find your blog again (as I just click the "Next Blog" icon on the top bar or check the most recent updated), but if you are doing so solely out of a sense of obligation, rest easy in the knowledge that I won't be offended.
Your website is very interesting. You appear to be a very deep thinking person. What the heck does someone like you enjoy about a "mommy blog"?
As it happens, I'm actually just an exceedingly shallow thinking person, but the vast array of subjects I touch on provides the illusion of depth. Don't tell anyone though. In any case, it is her question rather than her appraisal that forms the basis of this post.
What the hell was I doing on your blog when I posted a comment?
Blogs fascinate me. I like to read them. There are many things in this world I will never get to experience for myself, and what's more, anything I do encounter I can only do as myself. For all the class, intelligence, style, and grace that perspective may hold, it is in the end, finite. A few clicks enlarges my range exponentially, alien snapshots conjoined into a gallery of dizzying diversity. So if you maintain a blog, thank you. It can be a lot of work, but you do more good than you know.
If you are newly come to this site, or if you have thus far engaged already in reciprical commentaries, allow me to reassure you that you needn't leave a comment just because I did. Of course, you are welcome to comment. I enjoy reading them, and it helps me find your blog again (as I just click the "Next Blog" icon on the top bar or check the most recent updated), but if you are doing so solely out of a sense of obligation, rest easy in the knowledge that I won't be offended.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
And all the host of Sisera fell upon the edge of the sword; there was not a man left.
I follow world events with great apprehension, specifically speaking now of the situation in Israel and Lebanon. Some say that Hezbollah is justified, or that it may in some sense at least have legitimate grievances and that its methods are all that is open to it. Others claim that the barrage of rockets, combined with the last fifty years of difficulties, more than justifies Israel's actions, no matter how high the body count may rise. It is a difficult issue. The only certainty I have reached for myself is that anyone peddling easy answers has no idea what they're talking about.
Conservative pundits and news services have followed the rising cost of the conflict with something akin to glee. Each demolished building or broken person another portion of righteous vengeance. Begininning from the sound position that Israel has a right to defend itself, they enlarge within the notion of defense acts of questionable scope and terrible violence. For many of them, Isreal is the opportunity to live their bloody fantasies vicariously, the chance to inflict damage on terrorists without worrying about US public opinion. For some, the worst of them, the fulfilment of their ugly anti-arab, anti-islamic convictions.
I question the wisdom of Israel's actions, and also the morality. But I also realize that it is possible that they are taking the only option open to them. If this be true it is regretable, and even if necessary, does not warrant the joyful reception it has recieved in the conservative world. For my own part, I speak from a position of limited understanding. However, merely from what can be gleamed through sources available to me, I do not believe Israel is any longer in the right.
I begin my own analysis by stating my belief in Israel's certain right of self-defense. If someone attacks you, you certainly have the right to defend yourself. But the purpose of such defense is to maintain and ensure your own safety, not to punish your aggressor. The idea of proportionality has recently come under much criticsm in conservative circles, but the reality is that it may be the only responsible and (possible) solution.
Israel certainly has the means to demolish Lebanon or Syria. But the dismemberment of nation-states will not result in the destruction of Hezbollah. Additionally, in its attempt to disable certain assets of some utility to its terrorist enemies, Israel has flattened many of the utilities used by Lebanese non-combatants. If an israeli missile hits a building and kills five terrorists, that's fine. But if that same missile flattens a block and kills or wounds dozens, not only have you harmed innocents, increased the strain on Lebanon's fragile government, but you have also likely just created more terrorists than you ever killed.
The fact of the matter is that Israel has some of the best intelligence and covert operations assets in the world. Well versed through years of anti-terrorist operations, they have managed actions of far more precision than arial bombardment. Wrath of God, Spring of Youth, the capture of Adolf Eichmann, these are just a few examples of paitent, focused, and (in some cases perhaps only relatively) proportional responses. They had little collateral damage, fewer complications, and achieved greater success. Special operations, combined with paitent diplomacy provides better prospects than messy air raids.
It is the easiest thing in the world to call for blood. It is a much harder thing to inquire into necessity, to require justification, and to aspire towards a more perfect world. "Shoot them all and let God sort them out", the official motto of FOX news, is not a position of moral integrity, nor is it the words of statesmen or people living in the real world. It is a petulent notion, the first reaction of a hurt child, and we are better than that.
Conservative pundits and news services have followed the rising cost of the conflict with something akin to glee. Each demolished building or broken person another portion of righteous vengeance. Begininning from the sound position that Israel has a right to defend itself, they enlarge within the notion of defense acts of questionable scope and terrible violence. For many of them, Isreal is the opportunity to live their bloody fantasies vicariously, the chance to inflict damage on terrorists without worrying about US public opinion. For some, the worst of them, the fulfilment of their ugly anti-arab, anti-islamic convictions.
I question the wisdom of Israel's actions, and also the morality. But I also realize that it is possible that they are taking the only option open to them. If this be true it is regretable, and even if necessary, does not warrant the joyful reception it has recieved in the conservative world. For my own part, I speak from a position of limited understanding. However, merely from what can be gleamed through sources available to me, I do not believe Israel is any longer in the right.
I begin my own analysis by stating my belief in Israel's certain right of self-defense. If someone attacks you, you certainly have the right to defend yourself. But the purpose of such defense is to maintain and ensure your own safety, not to punish your aggressor. The idea of proportionality has recently come under much criticsm in conservative circles, but the reality is that it may be the only responsible and (possible) solution.
Israel certainly has the means to demolish Lebanon or Syria. But the dismemberment of nation-states will not result in the destruction of Hezbollah. Additionally, in its attempt to disable certain assets of some utility to its terrorist enemies, Israel has flattened many of the utilities used by Lebanese non-combatants. If an israeli missile hits a building and kills five terrorists, that's fine. But if that same missile flattens a block and kills or wounds dozens, not only have you harmed innocents, increased the strain on Lebanon's fragile government, but you have also likely just created more terrorists than you ever killed.
The fact of the matter is that Israel has some of the best intelligence and covert operations assets in the world. Well versed through years of anti-terrorist operations, they have managed actions of far more precision than arial bombardment. Wrath of God, Spring of Youth, the capture of Adolf Eichmann, these are just a few examples of paitent, focused, and (in some cases perhaps only relatively) proportional responses. They had little collateral damage, fewer complications, and achieved greater success. Special operations, combined with paitent diplomacy provides better prospects than messy air raids.
It is the easiest thing in the world to call for blood. It is a much harder thing to inquire into necessity, to require justification, and to aspire towards a more perfect world. "Shoot them all and let God sort them out", the official motto of FOX news, is not a position of moral integrity, nor is it the words of statesmen or people living in the real world. It is a petulent notion, the first reaction of a hurt child, and we are better than that.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Continued use may result in limb loss
Television is now clogged with, among other things, a dizzying array of pharmaceutical commercials. Plaavix, Logimax, Seroquel, the list of bizarre names more indicitive of Captain Kirk's little black book than anything I'd want to injest or inject. Of course, those are just the brand names. Viloxazine hydrocholoride is far less encouraging than Vivalan, and that's with the fact that the proprietary name is no great comfort.
The commercials present the drug as a savior from some crippling scourge, even if the menacing fate be no more than the use of other forms of birth control. Once you have their medicine, your life will suddenly acquire all the fulfillment, enjoyment, and beautiful people your unfortunate condition has long thwarted. Then, after having promised to solve sweaty palms with two quick and easy bimonthly treatments, somoene lists the mild side-effects.
Some paitents report blindness, loss of taste, nose bleeds, and migranes. In some rare cases, psychosis and delusions have been reported. If you experience any head, chest, or limb pain, see a doctor as these may be symptoms of a relatively rare but exceedingly fatal (and painful) disease. This medication should not be taken by human beings, dogs over the age of four, or non-placental mammals.
Of coruse, I do not mean to make light of anyone's plight. This medication, and the deregulation that allows its cavalier advertisement, are likely substantial improvements in the lives of many people. However, it always seems to me that the problem the drug offers to solve is almost never worth the risk of the side-effects.
The commercials present the drug as a savior from some crippling scourge, even if the menacing fate be no more than the use of other forms of birth control. Once you have their medicine, your life will suddenly acquire all the fulfillment, enjoyment, and beautiful people your unfortunate condition has long thwarted. Then, after having promised to solve sweaty palms with two quick and easy bimonthly treatments, somoene lists the mild side-effects.
Some paitents report blindness, loss of taste, nose bleeds, and migranes. In some rare cases, psychosis and delusions have been reported. If you experience any head, chest, or limb pain, see a doctor as these may be symptoms of a relatively rare but exceedingly fatal (and painful) disease. This medication should not be taken by human beings, dogs over the age of four, or non-placental mammals.
Of coruse, I do not mean to make light of anyone's plight. This medication, and the deregulation that allows its cavalier advertisement, are likely substantial improvements in the lives of many people. However, it always seems to me that the problem the drug offers to solve is almost never worth the risk of the side-effects.
Monday, July 24, 2006
There and back again
I have returned from Comic Con. At 100,000 attendees, it is easily the king of comic book conventions. There were many interesting displays, impressive costumes, and even a few hobbits. Space ships, Princess Leia, and Batman as far as the eye could see. It was a terrific personification of nerd fantasy.
For myself, the two main draws were J. Michael Stracyzinski and Alfonso Cuaron. Each towering figures in their respective fields, I was able to attend both of their events. Stracyzinski's was particularly interesting, a candid and colorful view of the screenwriting profession. Ringed by aspiring writers, he dispensed an hour's worth of useful advice and amusing anecdotes.
Navigating the convention was difficult at times, my fellow convention goers not always displaying proper manners, but on the whole I enjoyed myself. Pictures will follow at some point, along with a more complete write-up.
For myself, the two main draws were J. Michael Stracyzinski and Alfonso Cuaron. Each towering figures in their respective fields, I was able to attend both of their events. Stracyzinski's was particularly interesting, a candid and colorful view of the screenwriting profession. Ringed by aspiring writers, he dispensed an hour's worth of useful advice and amusing anecdotes.
Navigating the convention was difficult at times, my fellow convention goers not always displaying proper manners, but on the whole I enjoyed myself. Pictures will follow at some point, along with a more complete write-up.
Friday, July 21, 2006
We interrupt this post to bring you a special message from the future!
I will be gone this weekend, attending Comic Con. Actually, I'm just hitching a ride down south to hang with people. I doubt I'll get to spend hardly any time at Comic Con, which is good, because I don't have any money to spend there anyway. Going without buying stuff would just be too painful.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Comedy's Pariah
I have a very healthy sense of humor. It is, I admit, somewhat cold and (if I may say so) intellectual, but even within such limitations the extent and depth of my comedic appreciation are significant. Unfortunately, broad as it may be, apparently it is not broad enough.
I am constantly amazed by the effortless descent into complete incapacitation people can achieve based off the most shallow of stimuli. There is nothing so crass or stupid that it fails to illicit riotous laughter from a vast base of the population. The height of comedy now resides, as no doubt it has long been accustomed, in the gutter. Incoherent screaming, loud bodily noises, twisted facial contortions, and flagrant sexual displays are all somehow the epitome of the humorous arts. Will Farrel, Jack Black, and the other knuckle-dragging misfits who troll the depths of degeneracy for cheap thrills have the gull to be comedians, and to my embarrassment, society agrees.
Please understand that I do not oppose physical comedy. Slapstick is not necessary bad, and when done well offers an incomparable experience. Rather, my complaint is that comedy is empty. It doesn't mean anything. I suspect half of the reason people laugh now is because they are supposed to, because they have been properly conditioned to accept media conventions without reservation. The other half of the time, they're just idiots.
Even outside of conventional humor-related exposures, I still find my sense of humor at odds with the rest of the world. Most people seem to have this ability to laugh at anything, even when if you had actually considered what was being said, it not only failed to be amusing, but it didn't make sense. Although this tendency may result in a dubious appreciation for comedy, I find myself envious of it all the same. I think I would find life more enjoyable if I understood what everyone thought was so funny - or at least if I understood why I don't think so.
I am constantly amazed by the effortless descent into complete incapacitation people can achieve based off the most shallow of stimuli. There is nothing so crass or stupid that it fails to illicit riotous laughter from a vast base of the population. The height of comedy now resides, as no doubt it has long been accustomed, in the gutter. Incoherent screaming, loud bodily noises, twisted facial contortions, and flagrant sexual displays are all somehow the epitome of the humorous arts. Will Farrel, Jack Black, and the other knuckle-dragging misfits who troll the depths of degeneracy for cheap thrills have the gull to be comedians, and to my embarrassment, society agrees.
Please understand that I do not oppose physical comedy. Slapstick is not necessary bad, and when done well offers an incomparable experience. Rather, my complaint is that comedy is empty. It doesn't mean anything. I suspect half of the reason people laugh now is because they are supposed to, because they have been properly conditioned to accept media conventions without reservation. The other half of the time, they're just idiots.
Even outside of conventional humor-related exposures, I still find my sense of humor at odds with the rest of the world. Most people seem to have this ability to laugh at anything, even when if you had actually considered what was being said, it not only failed to be amusing, but it didn't make sense. Although this tendency may result in a dubious appreciation for comedy, I find myself envious of it all the same. I think I would find life more enjoyable if I understood what everyone thought was so funny - or at least if I understood why I don't think so.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
My Fickle Muse
Characters on TV always have such interesting jobs, or at least their job is interesting, even if its portrayal has little to do with reality. They are police detectives, lawyers, doctors, hostage negotiators, writers, actors and so on. They lead eventful, important lives that leave them successful and generally fulfilled. When I was younger, I assumed (as no doubt did many of you) that I too would find such a worthy career. I thought that when I found what I wanted to do in life, I would be excellent at it and there would be relatively smooth sailing from then on. Now I know better.
Like many people, I have a strong interest in creative endeavors. I love to read, I enjoy writing, and I am captivated by film. I freely admit that were I to believe I could succeed financially through such endeavors then it would be my preferred lifestyle. Certainly it would rank above the practice of law, currently my most likely prospect (especially since I have but one semester before graduation). Unfortunately, I find I not only would be unlikely to succeed professionally, but I cannot even pursue these interests as a hobby.
There is this deep, abiding well of creative energy somewhere inside me. I feel the pressure as it strains against the limits imposed by my personality and capabilities. I want to let it all out, and I can still recall a time when I had believed that mere desire would be sufficient to guarantee success. But now I find that every attempt meets, sooner or later, with an obstacle of undefined but ever sufficient dimensions, and I am left frustrated and exhausted. My imagination and expectations exceed the extents of my talents or determination.
One good example of this affect is my current project. Although not even my favorite idea, it is one that at least does not require talents I don't possess to complete, but even so I find progress extremely slow going. It's a novel called The Candidate, about a reality TV show. The participants compete for the opportunity to be a political candidate. I thought the premise was promising, and began writing with enthusiasm. But here we are several weeks later and I have not one more word than I wrote that first night. There's just this wall, and I don't know how to get over it.
In any case, for anyone who is interested in reading the prologue (because that's all there is), please go here and click on the file listed The Candidate Prologue. It's only five pages long, so it should make for a quick read.
EDIT: The file is hosted by a Yahoo Groups writing club that never seems to meet or post. I joined off Craigslist, but the group (like all things from there) quickly floundered. I didn't know another way to host the file, being computer illiterate as I am. Because you have to join the group to read the file, I'll understand if nobody does.
Like many people, I have a strong interest in creative endeavors. I love to read, I enjoy writing, and I am captivated by film. I freely admit that were I to believe I could succeed financially through such endeavors then it would be my preferred lifestyle. Certainly it would rank above the practice of law, currently my most likely prospect (especially since I have but one semester before graduation). Unfortunately, I find I not only would be unlikely to succeed professionally, but I cannot even pursue these interests as a hobby.
There is this deep, abiding well of creative energy somewhere inside me. I feel the pressure as it strains against the limits imposed by my personality and capabilities. I want to let it all out, and I can still recall a time when I had believed that mere desire would be sufficient to guarantee success. But now I find that every attempt meets, sooner or later, with an obstacle of undefined but ever sufficient dimensions, and I am left frustrated and exhausted. My imagination and expectations exceed the extents of my talents or determination.
One good example of this affect is my current project. Although not even my favorite idea, it is one that at least does not require talents I don't possess to complete, but even so I find progress extremely slow going. It's a novel called The Candidate, about a reality TV show. The participants compete for the opportunity to be a political candidate. I thought the premise was promising, and began writing with enthusiasm. But here we are several weeks later and I have not one more word than I wrote that first night. There's just this wall, and I don't know how to get over it.
In any case, for anyone who is interested in reading the prologue (because that's all there is), please go here and click on the file listed The Candidate Prologue. It's only five pages long, so it should make for a quick read.
EDIT: The file is hosted by a Yahoo Groups writing club that never seems to meet or post. I joined off Craigslist, but the group (like all things from there) quickly floundered. I didn't know another way to host the file, being computer illiterate as I am. Because you have to join the group to read the file, I'll understand if nobody does.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
True love, but for Mr. Kim...
At a party with some friends, the conversation turned (as it is known to do, on occasion) to considering the relative desireability of female celebrities. I generally abstain from crass descriptions of womanly charms, not from any puritan objections but because I think such behavior is beneath me. Plus, I have issues. Lots of issues.
Anyway, I decided to join this discussion with the observation that Grace Park, Boomer of Battlestar Galactica fame, was quite attractive. Maxim was consulted (through whom's largess I display the above photo) and all agree she had much to commend. But then came the sad refrain from one participant that he would like her more, but he had read on Wikipedia that she was married.
The reliability of Wikipedia aside (I'm no wiki basher, but some of those articles aren't worth the paper they're printed on - and they ain't printed), I thought this was a peculiar objection. Believe it or not, I wasn't on the verge of acquiring her affections, stymied only by matrimonial obligations. I don't know her. I've never met her. Never even seen her in person, and likely never will. When I expressed admiration for her visual charms, it was as an enthusiast of beauty (and, perhaps, for somewhat more base and shallow reasons), not as a potential suitor. Its not as though absent her marriage, Grace would throw herself into my arms.
I understand that fantasy is somewhat more enjoyable if it stays within the bounds of plausability. Perhaps, for my friend, marital status is enough to ruin his fancies. For my own part, it was already more likely that I'd have to fight off a Cylon attack than meet Grace Park for dinner.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Springtime for Kitler and Germany
 |  |
Cats that look like Hitler is a fine example of the truism that anything can be found on the internet. The example included above, Spooky (owned by Elaine), is apparently the fifth rated furher kitler (their combination of cat and Hitler, I suppose). If you are really bored, go see the other four rated ahead of him.
While I'm on the subject of Germany (kinda), what is it with those VW commercials? Deutschland, yo? That slogan has been raised twice before in the last century, neither time to particularly good result.
P.S. If anyone knows how I can get rid of that empty air between the title and the images, please let me know.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Wagner and Schendenfreude
I abhor reality television. Or, more accurately, I find the current genre almost entirely without merit. Tacky, trite, and insipidly overblown, it is a monument to bad taste. Now, to be sure, painting with such a broad (and harsh) brush is always dangerous. Certainly there may be particular titles of value, and indeed "reality television" is a term so expansive that it may be construed to include much of legitimate interest. Thus, to be clear, I refer in the remainder of this post to the staged encounters found nightly on the major networks.
Recently I have begun to watch more and more reality TV, as part of my research for an ongoing novel-type project called The Candidate I've been kicking around. Now, although the ridiculous subjects, repulsive contestants, and repetitive challenges offend me as a television viewer (I mean, that the networks believe they can satisfy the public with such thin offerings is insulting; That they succeed is depressing) that isn't what struck me most profoundly. What gets me is the music.
If you ever stop and listen to the music they use for these reality shows, it's like they culled the score of Last of the Mohicans or something, threw in a Wagnerian opera, and added the first movement of Carmina Burana for spice. Judging by sound alone, you would think the assembled band of genetically disadvantaged misfits were trying to stop the Earth's imminent implosion or ensure the future of democracy.
The editing is likewise ridiculous. Blunt and heavy handed, episodes begin with a "review" of previous events that often bears little resemblance to what had occurred. Once you get to the broadcast itself, the show is interrupted by commercial sponsors at "dramatic" moments so often that it exceeds even the wildest limits of the cliche. Upon returning from an advertisement, what little time that remains before the next interruption is often shared by another miniature review of what happened just before the break.
Please understand that I do not object to reality television on some stodgy moral ground. I don't care if people decide to watch horse porn. Whatever (providing all participants are consenting adults). But that we have been inflicted with such a horrid parade of second-rate programming offends me as a connoisseur of television.
Recently I have begun to watch more and more reality TV, as part of my research for an ongoing novel-type project called The Candidate I've been kicking around. Now, although the ridiculous subjects, repulsive contestants, and repetitive challenges offend me as a television viewer (I mean, that the networks believe they can satisfy the public with such thin offerings is insulting; That they succeed is depressing) that isn't what struck me most profoundly. What gets me is the music.
If you ever stop and listen to the music they use for these reality shows, it's like they culled the score of Last of the Mohicans or something, threw in a Wagnerian opera, and added the first movement of Carmina Burana for spice. Judging by sound alone, you would think the assembled band of genetically disadvantaged misfits were trying to stop the Earth's imminent implosion or ensure the future of democracy.
The editing is likewise ridiculous. Blunt and heavy handed, episodes begin with a "review" of previous events that often bears little resemblance to what had occurred. Once you get to the broadcast itself, the show is interrupted by commercial sponsors at "dramatic" moments so often that it exceeds even the wildest limits of the cliche. Upon returning from an advertisement, what little time that remains before the next interruption is often shared by another miniature review of what happened just before the break.
Please understand that I do not object to reality television on some stodgy moral ground. I don't care if people decide to watch horse porn. Whatever (providing all participants are consenting adults). But that we have been inflicted with such a horrid parade of second-rate programming offends me as a connoisseur of television.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
I have Don Julio's Band!
After a long and excessively painful period of mindles clicking, I have achieved Exalted status with the Frostwolf Clan in World of Warcraft. Now, this is a difficult and time consuming task for anyone. As I'm just a casual WoW player, it took me even longer than usual. The rewards though are quite sweet.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Pointless Factoid XV
Prime numbers are never found adjacent to one another (depending on your position regarding the number two). For instance, 3 and 5 are prime, as is 7 but not 6, 11 and 13 but not 12. It's believed that this pattern continues on to infinity, but this has not been mathematically proven.
Typo caught by a clever girl.
Typo caught by a clever girl.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Philistine in the Mirror
In my spare time, I like to write. Now, I claim neither aptitude nor incompetence, but rather a kind of comfortable middling; good enough to so that I don't stop, but not so good as may allow for a more complete dedication. Talented apathy, in ink as in life, seems to be my lot.
Over the course of my ofttimes half-hearted literary efforts, I have explored many different forms of writing and numerous exercises. However, something I've never really taken to is poetry. I don't write it, I don't read it, but what's more is I don't understand it. From big names to small, conventional rhyme to total chaos, profound or trite, for the most part it all just flies right past me.
When I try to read poetry, it's like I'm staring at a blurry image. I can make out the shapes and the colors, but the subject is missing. Sometimes I know what the picture is supposed to be, but still there is this insurmountable disassociation, like the glass that separates life and television.
This is troubling to me not only because I like to think of myself as the kind of person who could enjoy poems, but also I find it frustrating as I rarely fail at anything. That is not to say I succeed either. My life history is just a conjunction of half finished interests, explored only so far as it takes to learn the extent of the subject. I am, on some level, a flake extraordinaire. Still, poetry has proven annoyingly elusive, even to the shallow degree of experience I seek, and I'm not quite sure what I'm doing wrong.
Over the course of my ofttimes half-hearted literary efforts, I have explored many different forms of writing and numerous exercises. However, something I've never really taken to is poetry. I don't write it, I don't read it, but what's more is I don't understand it. From big names to small, conventional rhyme to total chaos, profound or trite, for the most part it all just flies right past me.
When I try to read poetry, it's like I'm staring at a blurry image. I can make out the shapes and the colors, but the subject is missing. Sometimes I know what the picture is supposed to be, but still there is this insurmountable disassociation, like the glass that separates life and television.
This is troubling to me not only because I like to think of myself as the kind of person who could enjoy poems, but also I find it frustrating as I rarely fail at anything. That is not to say I succeed either. My life history is just a conjunction of half finished interests, explored only so far as it takes to learn the extent of the subject. I am, on some level, a flake extraordinaire. Still, poetry has proven annoyingly elusive, even to the shallow degree of experience I seek, and I'm not quite sure what I'm doing wrong.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Little Miseries
What ever happened to two-litre sized bottles of Vanilla Coke? They have completely disappeared from area stores, replaced by a Cherry-Vanilla concoction of dubious gastronomical merit. Cherry fans already have Cherry Coke. Now, in order to indulge my taste for vanilla I have been reduced to adding it manually. This is an injustice of epic proportions.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Didn't quite make Craigslist
Is it just me, or is everyone on Craigslist a complete and total flake? I mean, there are some really cool ideas floating around there, and I'm sure some of the people who propose a group or an activity genuinely wants to try, but it seems like nothing ever happens. I'm lucky to even get a reply to any question I send.
Of course, I know that life conspires to rob us of what free time we can skim off the top, and that writing groups or book clubs are ultimately luxuries. Even so, you'd think by the law of averages something would come together every so often.
Of course, I know that life conspires to rob us of what free time we can skim off the top, and that writing groups or book clubs are ultimately luxuries. Even so, you'd think by the law of averages something would come together every so often.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
The Decline of Western Civilization
Last week some jerk broke into my car and stole my laptop. I later saw it on ebay, or at least what I thought was it. I've since contacted both ebay and the police, but neither have been particularly helpful and I've resigned myself to its loss. To be honest, there's no one else to blame. I knew better than to leave it in there, but of course after a while you just get lazy. Sadly, of course, this will not be the first automotive drama in which I shall play the victim, statistically speaking, and indeed if it is the worst crime ever perpetrated against me I shall have been fortunate.
To the person who stole my laptop, if you can read my blog (you have to plug in the cord to use the internet, I was too cheap to spring for WiFi), know that I hope you eventually get caught and suffer the justice you rightly deserve. Until then, good luck with your various enterprises, and I hope a four year old Sony Vaio serves you well. It has a pride of its own, you know, as a computer, and it should want (if it could want) to be useful. If it could do more for someone else than it did for me, there would at least be an upside to all of this.
On a less magnanimous note, if anyone in the San Francisco Bay Area recently purchesed a used grey Sony Vaio that lacks WiFi, has a bit of a noisy fan, and a few smudges on the screen (I was not the most careful owner), I'd appreciate an email. Remember, you have to plug it in.
To the person who stole my laptop, if you can read my blog (you have to plug in the cord to use the internet, I was too cheap to spring for WiFi), know that I hope you eventually get caught and suffer the justice you rightly deserve. Until then, good luck with your various enterprises, and I hope a four year old Sony Vaio serves you well. It has a pride of its own, you know, as a computer, and it should want (if it could want) to be useful. If it could do more for someone else than it did for me, there would at least be an upside to all of this.
On a less magnanimous note, if anyone in the San Francisco Bay Area recently purchesed a used grey Sony Vaio that lacks WiFi, has a bit of a noisy fan, and a few smudges on the screen (I was not the most careful owner), I'd appreciate an email. Remember, you have to plug it in.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Standard Deviation: Now with 20% more posting regularity!
Well, I'm back. For how long isn't quite clear at this point, but I stumbled across the old blog and felt like maybe trying to post again. You'd think with most of a year off I'd have something to talk about, and I guess I probably do, but I don't feel like launching into the particulars of my life right now. It's enough for me that I've started posting again.
More to come another time.
More to come another time.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Pointless Factoid XIV
The speed of light, which now features for the second time in a Pointless Factoid, is in fact not constant but varies depending on the medium it traverses.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Serenity
Six more days! If you haven't seen the Firefly series yet, go beg, borrow, or steal the DVD's and start cramming!
Friday, September 23, 2005
Peers of the land
Today we finished selecting a jury in the matter of the People v. Roger Ramirez. It took several days; longer, in fact, than expected thanks to an incident that rendered the jail into lock down for most of Wednesday afternoon. What this incident was I never knew, but with the jail under lockdown the defendant couldn't be transported to the courthouse (which, as it happens, is right next door and actually connected via a series of tunnels). But eventually Mr. Ramirez was able to come, much to everyone's relief. Well, except his I suppose.
Selecting a jury is an interesting procedure. You start with an unknown mob of people and, through questions and observation try to ascertain which people would be most receptive to your particular assertions. Sometimes it's easy; you don't want people who hate dogs to be on a jury involving a dog attack. But more often, it's a bizarre amalgamation of stereotypes and amature psychology.
For my own part, I mainly sat at the defense table and scribbled notes. My supervisor wanted me to keep my own list of jurors that I thought we should keep, and those I thought we should keep. Happily, our lists ended up being fairly similar, and he even kicked the people who'd met my reject list but weren't on his. Of course, part of his receptiveness to my suggestion was the fact that we had twenty pre-emptory challenges.
Pre-emptory challenges are bascially vetos on prospective jurors. Twenty is a lot, and there was almost no way that we'd have used them all, so my boss lost nothing by sending a few challenges my way. Still, I'd like to think my decisions were based on cause, at least insofar as cause exists in this esoteric proces.
Selecting a jury is an interesting procedure. You start with an unknown mob of people and, through questions and observation try to ascertain which people would be most receptive to your particular assertions. Sometimes it's easy; you don't want people who hate dogs to be on a jury involving a dog attack. But more often, it's a bizarre amalgamation of stereotypes and amature psychology.
For my own part, I mainly sat at the defense table and scribbled notes. My supervisor wanted me to keep my own list of jurors that I thought we should keep, and those I thought we should keep. Happily, our lists ended up being fairly similar, and he even kicked the people who'd met my reject list but weren't on his. Of course, part of his receptiveness to my suggestion was the fact that we had twenty pre-emptory challenges.
Pre-emptory challenges are bascially vetos on prospective jurors. Twenty is a lot, and there was almost no way that we'd have used them all, so my boss lost nothing by sending a few challenges my way. Still, I'd like to think my decisions were based on cause, at least insofar as cause exists in this esoteric proces.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Mondays and Murderers
On Monday I start my first trial, the People of the state of California v. Roger Ramirez. To be sure, I'm not an attorney, simply just an intern. Still, it will be my first experience with the judicial system, aside form an errant ticket or two, and though I won't be making an appearence on behalf of Mr. Ramirez, I will be at the defense table and I'll be helping with just about every aspect of the trial, including jury selection. All in all, it should be pretty interesting. At least, insofar as work goes.
The only downside is that I have to buy a suit. I have an old one, from when I was a kid, but it not only doesn't fit, but I haven't exactly exhibit particularly dilligent efforts in its care. I actually like suits quite a bit, though I expect their allure will diminish in proportion to how often I wear (and spill stuff on) them.
The only downside is that I have to buy a suit. I have an old one, from when I was a kid, but it not only doesn't fit, but I haven't exactly exhibit particularly dilligent efforts in its care. I actually like suits quite a bit, though I expect their allure will diminish in proportion to how often I wear (and spill stuff on) them.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Pointless Factoid XIII
The phrase "under God" was added to the pledge in 1954, which, as some of you may know, was during the height of the cold war. The troubling assertion that a particular religious belief is higher than the republic aside, it was originally added as little more than a sally towards those "godless communists".
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
I'm not dead yet
Well, my previous pronouncement of recovery proved to be premature. Nevertheless, all signs now reliably point to my ultimate victory over whatever microscopic host has chosen to invade my body.
Unfortunately, when God stops punching you in the face, he usually begins kicking you in the crotch. In this case, my inevitable return to health unfortunately heralds a the resumption of my scholastic responsibilities.
Unfortunately, when God stops punching you in the face, he usually begins kicking you in the crotch. In this case, my inevitable return to health unfortunately heralds a the resumption of my scholastic responsibilities.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Less sick than before
Yay!
(Okay, these two posts don't exactly set high marks for elegance or insight, but for someone with no health insurance, they're not bad)
(Okay, these two posts don't exactly set high marks for elegance or insight, but for someone with no health insurance, they're not bad)
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Sunday, August 28, 2005
The future is now
I would like to take this opportunity to recommend the current sci-fi TV program The 4400. If you haven't been watching, it's not too late to *ahem* obtain the episodes and catch up. Although, in my opinion, the first season was better than the second, the later season remains an excellent way to waste life an hour at a time.
Aside from Battlestar Galactica, I haven't seen a sci-fi show I've liked this much since Brimstone. Which, by the way, if you haven't seen you should.
Aside from Battlestar Galactica, I haven't seen a sci-fi show I've liked this much since Brimstone. Which, by the way, if you haven't seen you should.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Busted
So my fantastic run for a million dollars comes to an abrupt end. After outlasting 1500 other players, I was myself sent packing. All in all, not a bad experience for free.
Good luck to the 2500 players that remain. Except the guy that busted me. I hope he goes down in flames.
Good luck to the 2500 players that remain. Except the guy that busted me. I hope he goes down in flames.
Friday, August 26, 2005
All In: Update
Well, I've won a seat into the big million dollar tournament. Most likely, I'll be eliminated early and this entire endeavor will have just cost me a few hours of my life. If I'm substantially more lucky, I'll let you know.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
New Features! Aren't they shiny?
As you can see, there is now a little letter icon down at the bottom of every post. This useless feature allows you to send my mindless prattling to anyone you feel is in need of help falling asleep. The other neat addition is a comment-spam prevention tool.
Much as I'll regret cutting off this free source of stock advice, it had to be done.
Much as I'll regret cutting off this free source of stock advice, it had to be done.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
All In
Please note that I'm not, in any way, employed by or otherwise related to Paradise Poker.com. However, that being said, I am going to give them a shameless plug.
In two days, Paradise Poker.com will be hosting the world's first free million dollar tournament. There is no entry free. All you need to do to get into the million tournament is end in the top ten in one of the free satellite tournaments on their website. Sounds easy enough, right? And it is. But of course, always with the catch these things are.
This time, the catch is rather innocuous. The only entry requirement for the satellite is that you sign up for a real money account. I don't think you even need to put any money into it, just sign up for it. However, even if you do need to put money in, you could always just put in a little and then cash it all out again. So it really is free to play in the satellite.
But what if you don't win your first satellite? Can you play another one? See, that's where they get you. Subsequent satellites are free too, but you have to qualify for them. How do you qualify for them, you might ask. Well, for that, you have to play at the real money tables. The calculations differ depending on the limit, but essentially, you earn "million points" as you play. If you get enough, you can play in another satellite. There's no limit to the number of satellites you can participate in, so long as you keep earning those points. Of course, as you play, the site earns money (called the rake, a small fraction of every pot), and so that's the nature of the gimmick.
At any rate, I highly encourage anyone with even a passing interest in poker to at least give the free satellite a try. Who knows, you might even get a seat into the million.
In two days, Paradise Poker.com will be hosting the world's first free million dollar tournament. There is no entry free. All you need to do to get into the million tournament is end in the top ten in one of the free satellite tournaments on their website. Sounds easy enough, right? And it is. But of course, always with the catch these things are.
This time, the catch is rather innocuous. The only entry requirement for the satellite is that you sign up for a real money account. I don't think you even need to put any money into it, just sign up for it. However, even if you do need to put money in, you could always just put in a little and then cash it all out again. So it really is free to play in the satellite.
But what if you don't win your first satellite? Can you play another one? See, that's where they get you. Subsequent satellites are free too, but you have to qualify for them. How do you qualify for them, you might ask. Well, for that, you have to play at the real money tables. The calculations differ depending on the limit, but essentially, you earn "million points" as you play. If you get enough, you can play in another satellite. There's no limit to the number of satellites you can participate in, so long as you keep earning those points. Of course, as you play, the site earns money (called the rake, a small fraction of every pot), and so that's the nature of the gimmick.
At any rate, I highly encourage anyone with even a passing interest in poker to at least give the free satellite a try. Who knows, you might even get a seat into the million.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Another new IM system! Now if only I had some one to talk to...
Well, I never was very big on any of the old IM systems. I had ICQ a really long time ago (I've heard the early numbers are actually valuable now!), but I can't remember anything about it for the life of me. But as I'm a total google geek, I've signed on with Google Talk. It's neat. Check it out.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Totem Poles, Slave Labor, and Murder
Well, I now have a job. A non-paying job. When you add that to school - a school I have to pay to attend - the combination is an unholy amalgamation of my most horrid nightmares. Never since the spiny ridges of an overgrown lizard appeared in the waves of Tokyo Bay has an Asian man beheld his fate with such unabashed terror. Somehow, in a conspiracy of cruel dimensions, my two greatest enemies - work and school - are now united against my remaining free time.
Earlier today I met with Ed Nino, an attorney with the Santa Clara Public Defender's office. After a brief, almost prefunctory conversation, I was awarded an internship. He works in the homicide division, so that means I do too now. I'm not really sure what my duties will entail, but hopefully it should be interesting. If not, the least it could do would be to stay simple.
But I'm not holding out much hope of that either.
Earlier today I met with Ed Nino, an attorney with the Santa Clara Public Defender's office. After a brief, almost prefunctory conversation, I was awarded an internship. He works in the homicide division, so that means I do too now. I'm not really sure what my duties will entail, but hopefully it should be interesting. If not, the least it could do would be to stay simple.
But I'm not holding out much hope of that either.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Everyone suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this is mine:
I feel as though I see the world as it is, not as I want it to be. Although I retain a certain degree of resilient idealism, always is it colored with, if not subsumed by, an almost fatal cynicsm that is nonetheless the natural and probable side-effect of real life. Reason is a virtue, for me, and even more so on account of its relative scarcity.
What does this really mean though? Do I actually manage to keep a level head? Am I really governed by reason? Or do I simply choose to recast an unwillingness to commit myself enthusiastically to X (whatever it is at the moment) into a virtue?
In the end, it's probably a little of both. But then again, that's the way I bet it is for everyone.
What does this really mean though? Do I actually manage to keep a level head? Am I really governed by reason? Or do I simply choose to recast an unwillingness to commit myself enthusiastically to X (whatever it is at the moment) into a virtue?
In the end, it's probably a little of both. But then again, that's the way I bet it is for everyone.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Pointless Factoid XII
Babies have more bones than adults. During maturation, some bones fuse with their neighbors, thus making up for the disparity. How bizarre.
On another note, the Pointless Factoid is now one year old. It's neat how I'll now be able to chart my age based on the number of trivialities I've posted. Well, the intentional trivialities, at any rate.
On another note, the Pointless Factoid is now one year old. It's neat how I'll now be able to chart my age based on the number of trivialities I've posted. Well, the intentional trivialities, at any rate.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Shiny
Well, I indulged myself and picked up a few electronic toys. My old headphones were getting uncomfortable, so I got a new wireless pair. They have a 150' range and this neat charger stand. I also bought a 160 GB hard drive and a GeForce 6200 video card. I wanted a 6800, but I just didn't have the scratch. Before leaving I gave the mp3 players a hard look, but I can't decide on what features I want. I'll have to do some reseach, and I'm more than open to suggestions.
Unfortunately, I wasn't really able to enjoy my new purchases very much. Installation and all took a little while, the hard drive wouldn't automatically hook up, and I spent the balance of the day wrestling with my video card. Although it worked well enough on games, the thing would go into epileptic seizures if ordered to play video files. An exhaustive search of the internet was of only minor assistance, and ultimately I simply played trial and error with old nVidia drivers.
However, in the end, I managed to triumph over my own personal incompetence. A feat not entirely inconsiderable.
Unfortunately, I wasn't really able to enjoy my new purchases very much. Installation and all took a little while, the hard drive wouldn't automatically hook up, and I spent the balance of the day wrestling with my video card. Although it worked well enough on games, the thing would go into epileptic seizures if ordered to play video files. An exhaustive search of the internet was of only minor assistance, and ultimately I simply played trial and error with old nVidia drivers.
However, in the end, I managed to triumph over my own personal incompetence. A feat not entirely inconsiderable.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Those tomboys and their damned cute names
I don't know exactly what it is about them, but I really like the names you find on tomboys (and the bodies too, but that's another story). Forget Stephanie or Charlotte, give me a Devon or a Jordan.
Monday, August 15, 2005
It's back to school time
Again. Damnit. Tomorrow I start my third year of law school. Unforunately, because I was part-time my first year, I might have to have a fourth year too. We'll see. For now, it's enough to know that I have to go through all this crap again starting in 23 hours and 22 minutes.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Pointless Factoid XI
Magma is molten rock located underneath the Earth. When it emerges, due to volcanic activity or plate movements, it becomes lava.
Believe it or not, this was the most interesting thing about geology I could find.
Believe it or not, this was the most interesting thing about geology I could find.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
So long Sandy, and other stuff too!
Justice Sandra Day O'Connor has left the high court. As a law student, I feel like I should have some sort of analysis, at least above and beyond that likely to be peddled about the blogiverse, but I don't. At least, I don't care enough to think of one and type it up. Maybe later when we find out who'll be replacing her.
In other news, had a good time at AnimeExpo. Thanks for everyone who came out to the JDrama panel. The big news of the show: There's going to be a new Robotech movie! That's right, after twenty years, Robotech is back! Check it out at the Robotech website. I don't have any pictures of the convention, mainly because I don't have a digital camera. But I want one. Maybe I'll get one.
Okay, I guess maybe this post didn't warrant a title with an exclamation point. But damnit, I'm excited about new Robotech!
In other news, had a good time at AnimeExpo. Thanks for everyone who came out to the JDrama panel. The big news of the show: There's going to be a new Robotech movie! That's right, after twenty years, Robotech is back! Check it out at the Robotech website. I don't have any pictures of the convention, mainly because I don't have a digital camera. But I want one. Maybe I'll get one.
Okay, I guess maybe this post didn't warrant a title with an exclamation point. But damnit, I'm excited about new Robotech!
Monday, July 04, 2005
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws
The Patriot act is set to expire soon, the provisions of which are a troubling marriage of practicality and arbitrary power. Taken as itself, I am unable to unequivocally state a firm and all-encompassing opposition to the law. Certainly, as past events have adequately displayed, there is (and likely remains) a powerful case to be made for the utility of expanded police powers. The old adage of prevention and cure remains not merely relevant but, when measured within the context of human life, very nearly unquestionable. There are unmistakably aspects of the law whose impact on our privacy is both bearable and substantially less threatening than the harms they aim to prevent.
Unfortunately, the analysis does not end there, for the entirety of the act manifests nothing so clearly as a means by which the entire republic could be unwound from within. I am unwilling to ascribe to its supporters the labels, which range across the entire spectrum and encompass the complete range of governmental tyranny, so popular among the act's detractors. I think, so long as we leave aside the reactionary rush prevelant in the public and especially the Republican public, that most of the Patriot act's supporters are as dedicated to freedom as anyone else. Nonetheless, they believe that terrorism represents a greater danger to our society, and this is where we differ.
Let us be very clear. Al-Qaeda will never destroy the United States. Not in their most delusional of dreams can they even hope to accomplish anything so grand. What's more, not withstanding the individual tragedy of each death, neither are they really all that dangerous to any given American. Suitcase nukes, bioterror weapons, another 9-11; if these things were easy, they would be done. That they are not, while providing no reason to halt in our efforts to prevent them, is a testament to the fundamental truth of our terrorist opponents. They just aren't a danger to our republic. They never will be.
However, we ourselves are very much capable of ruining our society. In the end, even the most grievous lost of people, places, or products can be overcome. It is instead when we yield our principles that our way of life becomes endangered. Al-Qaeda cannot destroy the constitution. But secret warrants, citizens captured on American soil and held without trial or advice of counsel, military tribunals, and the other trappings of arbitrary, unchecked power have within their draconian applications abuses of unimaginable and irredeemable severity. In the end, it is from ourselves that the greatest danger to our society faces.
If this struggle with terror is truly a war, then it should be recalled from among the lessons of conflict that ideas can be more powerful than even the most fearsome weapons. The surest way to bring the full force of our true power, a legacy of liberty and democracy tarnished, perhaps, at times and yet each time revealed even stronger, is to show an unwaivering faith in ourselves. It is for that reason, an inability within myself to yield conviction to circumstance, that I urge everyone to beware the passage and application of that foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws.
Unfortunately, the analysis does not end there, for the entirety of the act manifests nothing so clearly as a means by which the entire republic could be unwound from within. I am unwilling to ascribe to its supporters the labels, which range across the entire spectrum and encompass the complete range of governmental tyranny, so popular among the act's detractors. I think, so long as we leave aside the reactionary rush prevelant in the public and especially the Republican public, that most of the Patriot act's supporters are as dedicated to freedom as anyone else. Nonetheless, they believe that terrorism represents a greater danger to our society, and this is where we differ.
Let us be very clear. Al-Qaeda will never destroy the United States. Not in their most delusional of dreams can they even hope to accomplish anything so grand. What's more, not withstanding the individual tragedy of each death, neither are they really all that dangerous to any given American. Suitcase nukes, bioterror weapons, another 9-11; if these things were easy, they would be done. That they are not, while providing no reason to halt in our efforts to prevent them, is a testament to the fundamental truth of our terrorist opponents. They just aren't a danger to our republic. They never will be.
However, we ourselves are very much capable of ruining our society. In the end, even the most grievous lost of people, places, or products can be overcome. It is instead when we yield our principles that our way of life becomes endangered. Al-Qaeda cannot destroy the constitution. But secret warrants, citizens captured on American soil and held without trial or advice of counsel, military tribunals, and the other trappings of arbitrary, unchecked power have within their draconian applications abuses of unimaginable and irredeemable severity. In the end, it is from ourselves that the greatest danger to our society faces.
If this struggle with terror is truly a war, then it should be recalled from among the lessons of conflict that ideas can be more powerful than even the most fearsome weapons. The surest way to bring the full force of our true power, a legacy of liberty and democracy tarnished, perhaps, at times and yet each time revealed even stronger, is to show an unwaivering faith in ourselves. It is for that reason, an inability within myself to yield conviction to circumstance, that I urge everyone to beware the passage and application of that foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Expositions
On my way to AnimeExpo, the largest anime convention in America. I'm not really quite sure exactly how many people are expected, but I'm sure it'll be pretty big. For my part, aside from yet another opportunity to revel in those interests of mine as may lie on this side of the geek line, I'll actually be giving a talk on Japanese dramas. It's going to be a simple and rather informal panel discussion, so if anyone is planning on being in Anaheim this weekend, I'd love to see you there.
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Using up RAM
That's right. This post serves no other purpose than to have used up an infinitesimally puny amount of your RAM and bandwidth.
Ha ha!
Jeff 1, Internet Using World 0!
Ha ha!
Jeff 1, Internet Using World 0!
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Pointless Factoid X
Horton Overland Flow is a term used in Hydrology to describe the flow of water over paved and smooth surfaces. As a result of paving, water flows much faster and without the obstructions of broken ground, causing more damage to top soil and increasing the rate of erosion.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Ah, Summer
June. The beginning of summer for students all across this great land. Everywhere young people throw off the shackles of scholastic endeavors for more worldly concerns. Like getting drunk and sleeping in until 3pm. Unfortunately, I will not be one of them. For me, there is no relief. School is as inescapable as mortality itself, and the summer session, to which I have been forsworn, is soon to begin.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Four Days in May
Just back from Kublacon, the largest gaming convention on the West Coast. Too tired to really say much. There were lots of games, plenty of attendees, and over priced hotel food to boot. All in all, a good time had by all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've been up for almost three days, and it's time for sleep.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Wrong us, shall we not revenge?
Well, just got back from seeing Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. I actually only bought tickets to the midnight show because I was already at the theatre earlier this week to try and see Kingdom of Heaven (which I never got to do because of scheduling issues). When I saw there were still tickets available for Star Wars, I just couldn't resist. I know, it's like reserving spots on a train bound to roll right off the unfinished bridge and into the ravine, but ultimately I cannot deny my inner-geek.
I shall endeavor to describe the movie in only general terms; even though we all know more or less how it ends, I don't want to give anything away. It would probably be best to start with the "pros". Not only does this seem only fair, but it also isn't going to take very long.
Pros:
Special Affects. As usual, Lucas and Industrial Light and Magic have produced a visually impressive display. I for one am disappointed by the dependence on CG, clone troopers would have been better depicted through real actors where possible, but the images they do end up using are simply incredible.
Action. There was a lot of fighting. Much of it was repetitive or pointless, but at least there was a lot of it. Quite frankly, I think lightsabers are unspeakably awesome, and so I know that, speaking for myself, I am willing to just sit there and watch the glowsticks flash across the screen. For a while, anyway.
That's pretty much it for the things Lucas got right. Now, onto the "cons".
Cons:
Dialogue: The English language, in all its infinite forms, incomparable versitility, and remarkable beauty, does not possess condemnation strong enough to denounce the incompetence displayed by the Episode III screenplay. The dialogue was pained, trite, and otherwise unable to inspire any emotion save annoyance. I've hear rumors that the script was even "ghostwritten" to try and clean it up a little. If that's true, then I dread to see what it replaced.
Acting: Terrible acting is becoming the standard in Star Wars films, and this one is no exception. Ewan McGregor does Obi-Wan justice, but in almost no other sense can even the semblance of thespisatic integrity be found.
Directing: Rarely has a movie been more clumsy and heavy handed in its presentation. Lucas relies on but a single directing technique, telling parrallel stories throughout the movie in rather the same manner as the previous prequels. What's more, the jumps from one story to another seem to have occurred largely at random, and you never get the feeling that you are being introduced to a story so much as a collection of disparate images that happen to have been cut into the same roll of film.
Cameos: The use of the Wookies was pointless in the extreme, designed solely it seemed to include a thirty second Chewbacca cameo. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm as big a Chewy fan as the next Star Wars geek, but I don't like contrivances.
Fighting: I know I said action was a pro. But by the end, one does become a little tired of pointless conflict. None of the fights manage to invoke the pathos that characterizes memorable confrontation. Even the final, "climactic" battle between Obi-Wan and Anakin is little more than another opportunity for ILM to show off.
Midichlorians: Quite frankly, I can't believe Lucas had the gall to throw that back in our faces. This is the sign of a man fatally detached from reality.
Nooooooo: You'll understand this one when you see it. While I'm on the subject, if Vader looks a little scrawnier than you remember, you aren't the only one. Obviously, Vader must spend a lot of his time in between Episodes III and IV in the gym.
The best thing that can be said of this film is that it is the finest Star Wars movie in twenty-something years. It is unquestionably the finest of the prequel films, and were it "Space Battle" or something, without the high expectations and heavy burdens of the Star Wars name, it would be merely a bad sci-fi film. But because it is Star Wars, and the last of Star Wars at that, the disappointment makes every shortcoming just that much worse. In the end, you aren't left with any feeling other than, well, the need to take revenge on someone for robbing you of a few hours, eight bucks, and years of hope.
I shall endeavor to describe the movie in only general terms; even though we all know more or less how it ends, I don't want to give anything away. It would probably be best to start with the "pros". Not only does this seem only fair, but it also isn't going to take very long.
Pros:
Special Affects. As usual, Lucas and Industrial Light and Magic have produced a visually impressive display. I for one am disappointed by the dependence on CG, clone troopers would have been better depicted through real actors where possible, but the images they do end up using are simply incredible.
Action. There was a lot of fighting. Much of it was repetitive or pointless, but at least there was a lot of it. Quite frankly, I think lightsabers are unspeakably awesome, and so I know that, speaking for myself, I am willing to just sit there and watch the glowsticks flash across the screen. For a while, anyway.
That's pretty much it for the things Lucas got right. Now, onto the "cons".
Cons:
Dialogue: The English language, in all its infinite forms, incomparable versitility, and remarkable beauty, does not possess condemnation strong enough to denounce the incompetence displayed by the Episode III screenplay. The dialogue was pained, trite, and otherwise unable to inspire any emotion save annoyance. I've hear rumors that the script was even "ghostwritten" to try and clean it up a little. If that's true, then I dread to see what it replaced.
Acting: Terrible acting is becoming the standard in Star Wars films, and this one is no exception. Ewan McGregor does Obi-Wan justice, but in almost no other sense can even the semblance of thespisatic integrity be found.
Directing: Rarely has a movie been more clumsy and heavy handed in its presentation. Lucas relies on but a single directing technique, telling parrallel stories throughout the movie in rather the same manner as the previous prequels. What's more, the jumps from one story to another seem to have occurred largely at random, and you never get the feeling that you are being introduced to a story so much as a collection of disparate images that happen to have been cut into the same roll of film.
Cameos: The use of the Wookies was pointless in the extreme, designed solely it seemed to include a thirty second Chewbacca cameo. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm as big a Chewy fan as the next Star Wars geek, but I don't like contrivances.
Fighting: I know I said action was a pro. But by the end, one does become a little tired of pointless conflict. None of the fights manage to invoke the pathos that characterizes memorable confrontation. Even the final, "climactic" battle between Obi-Wan and Anakin is little more than another opportunity for ILM to show off.
Midichlorians: Quite frankly, I can't believe Lucas had the gall to throw that back in our faces. This is the sign of a man fatally detached from reality.
Nooooooo: You'll understand this one when you see it. While I'm on the subject, if Vader looks a little scrawnier than you remember, you aren't the only one. Obviously, Vader must spend a lot of his time in between Episodes III and IV in the gym.
The best thing that can be said of this film is that it is the finest Star Wars movie in twenty-something years. It is unquestionably the finest of the prequel films, and were it "Space Battle" or something, without the high expectations and heavy burdens of the Star Wars name, it would be merely a bad sci-fi film. But because it is Star Wars, and the last of Star Wars at that, the disappointment makes every shortcoming just that much worse. In the end, you aren't left with any feeling other than, well, the need to take revenge on someone for robbing you of a few hours, eight bucks, and years of hope.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
Pointless Factiod IX
The speed of light (in a vacuum) is 186,282 miles per second.
The speed of sound is (at sea level and room temperature) 344 meters per second. Or, put another way, 768 miles per hour.
That means if one were watching TV at a distance in which it took light one second to reach you (186,282 miles for those of you with bad memories), the sound be behind by 242.5 hours. That's roughly ten days.
Sadly, the quality of most television series would not be diminished by the discrepancy.
The speed of sound is (at sea level and room temperature) 344 meters per second. Or, put another way, 768 miles per hour.
That means if one were watching TV at a distance in which it took light one second to reach you (186,282 miles for those of you with bad memories), the sound be behind by 242.5 hours. That's roughly ten days.
Sadly, the quality of most television series would not be diminished by the discrepancy.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Thou art lego, and on this brick I will build my church
The Brick Testament is an amusing way to catch up on your favorite bible verses. Illustrated to legos, the stories of murder, slaughter, and shameful discrimination really come alive!
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
The Light at the Roadstop in the middle of the Tunnel
Finals time, year two, Santa Clara University School of Law. No more fun than all those other finals, but at least I can start to see the end.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
Expressions I don't get to use as much as I'd like
1. You're not the boss of me.
2. I told you so.
3. Apology accepted.
4. My fellow Americans...
5. I'd like to thank the academy...
2. I told you so.
3. Apology accepted.
4. My fellow Americans...
5. I'd like to thank the academy...
Friday, April 29, 2005
Pointless Factoid IIX
A doxology is a short hymn or praise following a biblical verse. The single most familiar doxology to Americans is probably the refrain to the Lord's Prayer "For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen." It is not found in the original hebrew, but was instead developed by Greek translators.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Oh no! It's Mecha-Intelligent-Educated-Godzilla!
For those of you how are not as familiar with American cultural subcurrents as you should be, "scientific" creationism is a nasty appendege of the evangelical fundamentalism practiced across the country. It seeks to supplant the teaching of rational , tested, verified, and scientifically supported evolution in favor of a particular theological interpretation not even accepted by the majority of Christians.
Unable to make their case scientifically, it has become popular for local fundies to concentrate their efforts on electorally vulnerable school districts. One of the more recent battlegrounds has emerged in Pennsylvania, which just goes to show that simply because you live in a Blue State, that doesn't mean there aren't whackjobs next door. The Dover school board has ordered staff to teach "Intelligent Design", the "theory" that life is so organized that it could have arisen only through the actions of a creator. The complete story can be read here.
A complete refutation of this rubbish is really beyond the scope of this post, but for those of you more interested, please see Talk.Origins. They'll have all the information you could ever want on why ID and creationism is scientifically incorrect, and what's more, they'll have plenty of links to ID and creationist sites so you can compare yourself. Suffice it to say, ID has no basis in reality.
Sadly, another article on how the fundies are intent to run our ship aground would likely not have illicited a post from me. Rather, there was a particular quote I (and others) found amusing. Pastor and local school parent Ray Mummert, the face of the ID push in Dover, had this to say:
"We`ve been attacked by the intelligent, educated segment of the culture."
Oh no! Here comes Mecha-Godzilla! And it's smarter than ever!
Unable to make their case scientifically, it has become popular for local fundies to concentrate their efforts on electorally vulnerable school districts. One of the more recent battlegrounds has emerged in Pennsylvania, which just goes to show that simply because you live in a Blue State, that doesn't mean there aren't whackjobs next door. The Dover school board has ordered staff to teach "Intelligent Design", the "theory" that life is so organized that it could have arisen only through the actions of a creator. The complete story can be read here.
A complete refutation of this rubbish is really beyond the scope of this post, but for those of you more interested, please see Talk.Origins. They'll have all the information you could ever want on why ID and creationism is scientifically incorrect, and what's more, they'll have plenty of links to ID and creationist sites so you can compare yourself. Suffice it to say, ID has no basis in reality.
Sadly, another article on how the fundies are intent to run our ship aground would likely not have illicited a post from me. Rather, there was a particular quote I (and others) found amusing. Pastor and local school parent Ray Mummert, the face of the ID push in Dover, had this to say:
"We`ve been attacked by the intelligent, educated segment of the culture."
Oh no! Here comes Mecha-Godzilla! And it's smarter than ever!
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Mikey likes it!
Top ten breakfast cereals:
1. Lucky Charms
2. Cinnamon Toast Crunch
3. Peanut Butter Captain Crunch
4. Honey Nut Bunches of Oats
5. Kix
6. Fruity Pebbles
7. Cookie Crisps
8. Honey Nut Cheerios
9. Shredded Mini-Wheats
10. Count Chochula
Somehow, part of a complete balanced breakfast.
1. Lucky Charms
2. Cinnamon Toast Crunch
3. Peanut Butter Captain Crunch
4. Honey Nut Bunches of Oats
5. Kix
6. Fruity Pebbles
7. Cookie Crisps
8. Honey Nut Cheerios
9. Shredded Mini-Wheats
10. Count Chochula
Somehow, part of a complete balanced breakfast.
Monday, April 04, 2005
Acta est fabula, plaudite!
John Paul II is dead. There's not really much more to say. I have little affection for Roman Catholicism or indeed Christianity in general, it must be said, yet it is unfortunate to see the pontiff go. John Paul II showed a willingness to compromise that was as extraordinary yet still somehow all the more disappointing.
He moved to heal breaches within the Christian community that had stood a thousand years or more. He reached out to the leaders of other religions and spoke openly about the plights of the weak and forgotten. This kind of enlightened action left many progressive observers hoping that he would turn his accepting gaze to birth control, homosexuals, and female aspirants to the cloth.
Still, I suppose even the Vicar of Christ can hardly be expected to be perfect. John Paul II did far more good than bad, and that is more than can be said for many.
Ave atque vale!
He moved to heal breaches within the Christian community that had stood a thousand years or more. He reached out to the leaders of other religions and spoke openly about the plights of the weak and forgotten. This kind of enlightened action left many progressive observers hoping that he would turn his accepting gaze to birth control, homosexuals, and female aspirants to the cloth.
Still, I suppose even the Vicar of Christ can hardly be expected to be perfect. John Paul II did far more good than bad, and that is more than can be said for many.
Ave atque vale!
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Everyone needs an Uncle Joe
Spent today playing board games with some associates at the Los Altos Public Library. It's actually a fairly well stocked facility, with an impressive array of books, video, and even music available free and to anyone with a library card.
We played Barbarossa to Berlin, a WWII simulation board game. I was Uncle Joe twice, and I'm proud to say I saved communisum and won the Great Patriotic War.
One for the good guys. Or something.
We played Barbarossa to Berlin, a WWII simulation board game. I was Uncle Joe twice, and I'm proud to say I saved communisum and won the Great Patriotic War.
One for the good guys. Or something.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Turns out we were wrong all the time
In the April edition of Scientific American, science will finally dispose of its most cherished conspiracy. Yes, that's right, according to this story the days of requiriing little things like "evidence" or "testable models" are passing along with the dinosaurs.
Evolution was a fun little evil, but I can see it's time has passed. Always one to see the value in new modes of thinking, I have re-evaluated some of my own positions, basing my new prospectives under logic that previously we rational people regarded as somewhat suspect.
It turns out that 300x50x30 cubits really is enough space to hold 3,858,920 animals.
It turns out that the earth really is around six to ten thousand years old.
It turns out that all those arguments we thought were "debunked" were actually dismissed a little too early by people who insisted on "evidence".
Well, I say so long to the monolithic tyranny of rational scientific models! It's about time our scientific discourses were guided by the principles of democracy and Christianity for which our nation has ever stood.
Evolution was a fun little evil, but I can see it's time has passed. Always one to see the value in new modes of thinking, I have re-evaluated some of my own positions, basing my new prospectives under logic that previously we rational people regarded as somewhat suspect.
It turns out that 300x50x30 cubits really is enough space to hold 3,858,920 animals.
It turns out that the earth really is around six to ten thousand years old.
It turns out that all those arguments we thought were "debunked" were actually dismissed a little too early by people who insisted on "evidence".
Well, I say so long to the monolithic tyranny of rational scientific models! It's about time our scientific discourses were guided by the principles of democracy and Christianity for which our nation has ever stood.
Friday, March 25, 2005
Fightin' Words
An associate recently claimed that there was a better Transformer than Soundwave.
It took about four guys to break us apart.
It took about four guys to break us apart.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Choices, Consequences, and Injunctions
So a federal district court has refused to grant an injunction ordering the restoration of Terri Schiavo's feeding tube. The right of the federal court system to review the case followed a bill passed by Congress granting jurisdiction. Notwithstanding the various legal issues that surround Congress' ability to pass such legislation, I find myself alternatively at odds with the situation.
To begin with, despite the bald assertions of Senator Frisk, many "life affirming" Americans believe that is it nonetheless consistent to insist upon an individual right to a comfortable and dignified end. I know, because I am one of them. I regard life as unspeakably sacred; certainly I hold it in higher regard than those who advocate the unchecked execution of the criminally suspect or the jingoistic use of force of arms. Even so, principle demands that people be allowed to dispose of their final affairs and their final days in a manner befitting the life they have lead.
I find the presumptive arrogance of the Republican response repulsive. I think certainly at least some of their public outrage is little more than disengenious manipulation of the body politic, and much of the rest is pandering to that disturbing bloc of ascendent fundamentalists. The legal action of the federal government represents the imposition of one set of principles for another, in contravention of all theories of self-determination. So it is with some trouble that I must admit that their action, if not their motives, may in the end be correct. Despite the fact that I believe everyone has what may be described somewhat crassly as a "right to die", I find myself unable to find complete accord with the position of Mr. Schiavo. Certainly, were there any clear and undisputed indication of Mrs. Schiavo's intentions then I should have little difficulty in asserting a personal position. However, I feel that in the absence of a manifestly declarative statement, we ought to error on the side of caution.
Caution, however, does not necessarily dictate action. Mr. Schiavo, as I understand the situation, is the proper guardian of his wife, and accordingly holds both the authority over and the responsibility for her affairs. On his shoulders rests the momentous decision, and I would think this legal battle is doing little to alleviate what must be a most harrowing experience.
To begin with, despite the bald assertions of Senator Frisk, many "life affirming" Americans believe that is it nonetheless consistent to insist upon an individual right to a comfortable and dignified end. I know, because I am one of them. I regard life as unspeakably sacred; certainly I hold it in higher regard than those who advocate the unchecked execution of the criminally suspect or the jingoistic use of force of arms. Even so, principle demands that people be allowed to dispose of their final affairs and their final days in a manner befitting the life they have lead.
I find the presumptive arrogance of the Republican response repulsive. I think certainly at least some of their public outrage is little more than disengenious manipulation of the body politic, and much of the rest is pandering to that disturbing bloc of ascendent fundamentalists. The legal action of the federal government represents the imposition of one set of principles for another, in contravention of all theories of self-determination. So it is with some trouble that I must admit that their action, if not their motives, may in the end be correct. Despite the fact that I believe everyone has what may be described somewhat crassly as a "right to die", I find myself unable to find complete accord with the position of Mr. Schiavo. Certainly, were there any clear and undisputed indication of Mrs. Schiavo's intentions then I should have little difficulty in asserting a personal position. However, I feel that in the absence of a manifestly declarative statement, we ought to error on the side of caution.
Caution, however, does not necessarily dictate action. Mr. Schiavo, as I understand the situation, is the proper guardian of his wife, and accordingly holds both the authority over and the responsibility for her affairs. On his shoulders rests the momentous decision, and I would think this legal battle is doing little to alleviate what must be a most harrowing experience.
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Do your part to save a kitten
Gencon, otherwise known as gaming mecca, is coming again. I'm not really sure where it is this year, as it has moved about a bit of late, but it's somewhere in the midwest to be sure. Unfortunately, poor as I am, I can't go.
Scratch one kitten.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Too bad I don't need VOIP
I really like the song they use in the Vonage IP commercials. If I needed VOIP, I'd get it from them. I like to support products that have good commercials. Conversely, I stay away from products whose commercials irritate me. So just a warning to any company that plans to use Carrot Top or David Arquette again, you can kiss my business goodbye.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
One sober Irishman
Well, it's St. Patrick's day again, another excuse for everyone to get totally and completely blasted. As if they needed one. St. Patrick's day is the total aggregation of everything that is crass, crude, and base in American society, thinly covered with a green shamrock.
Speaking as an Irishman, which I am somewhat though it is a title I rarely lay claim to, I find little to recommend in the holiday. I'm not Catholic, and even among the papists little is known about him outside of Ireland. Irish nationalism, too, seems a dubious cause. Ireland has no doubt suffered many indignities and even brutalities at the hands of the English, and they would have many legitimate grievences had they not turned to a kind of terrorism as reprehensible as any employed by al-Qaeda.
There are many ways in which St. Patrick's day could be meaningful. It could be an affirmation of Irish contributions to society. It could be a day of rememberence, of learning what it is to be Irish. Instead, it's just another excuse for people to drink and fight. However Irish these things may be, and I'm sure they are not completely unknown on the Shamrock Isle, they are hardly worthy of celebration or veneration.
Speaking as an Irishman, which I am somewhat though it is a title I rarely lay claim to, I find little to recommend in the holiday. I'm not Catholic, and even among the papists little is known about him outside of Ireland. Irish nationalism, too, seems a dubious cause. Ireland has no doubt suffered many indignities and even brutalities at the hands of the English, and they would have many legitimate grievences had they not turned to a kind of terrorism as reprehensible as any employed by al-Qaeda.
There are many ways in which St. Patrick's day could be meaningful. It could be an affirmation of Irish contributions to society. It could be a day of rememberence, of learning what it is to be Irish. Instead, it's just another excuse for people to drink and fight. However Irish these things may be, and I'm sure they are not completely unknown on the Shamrock Isle, they are hardly worthy of celebration or veneration.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Now everyone can have a bent Wookie
SOE has released information for the new SWG expansion. It's called Episode III: Rage of the Wookies. It includes a new planet, Kashyyk, the home world of the Wookies, a hundred new missions, and some new items among them the Jedi starfighter (As seen in Episode III: Revenge of the Sith!). All this and the assembled host of bugs, glitches, disappointments, and outright lies that accompany all of SOE's products can be yours for the bargain price of $24.99.
This will be the second expansion for SWG, the single most disappointing game in MMORPG history, the first being Jump to Lightspeed, which brought us the ability to play in space. RoTW will actually come with JtL for free, which if it follows the economic model of MMORPG expansions, has not made the portion of the user base who bought JtL when it came out very happy.
Besides the obvious marketing tie with a movie whose events take place some 25 years before the setting of the SWG game, there are plenty of other reasons to believe that the expansion will suck. At present there is no evidence to indicate that the "100 new missions" will be any better than the thousands of cookie-cutter UPS or destruction chores already available. Furthermore, Kashyyk will in all events end up as nothing more than another high level adventure planet, which in itself isn't all that bad, but I hardly think another Endor or Dathomir is worth $24.99.
Most of the SWG population awaits RoTW because the much anticipated Combat Balance will be released simultaneously. SWG users await the combat upgrade as fervently as the Jews await the messiah, and SOE has only fuelled this urgency by promising, for more than a year, that the combat rebalance will be that answer to all the game's ills.
I personally anticipate disappointment both from RoTW and from the combat rebalance, because SOE has never given us a reason to expect otherwise. Nonetheless, I'm pretty sure I'll be shelling out that $24.99, and I hate them for it.
This will be the second expansion for SWG, the single most disappointing game in MMORPG history, the first being Jump to Lightspeed, which brought us the ability to play in space. RoTW will actually come with JtL for free, which if it follows the economic model of MMORPG expansions, has not made the portion of the user base who bought JtL when it came out very happy.
Besides the obvious marketing tie with a movie whose events take place some 25 years before the setting of the SWG game, there are plenty of other reasons to believe that the expansion will suck. At present there is no evidence to indicate that the "100 new missions" will be any better than the thousands of cookie-cutter UPS or destruction chores already available. Furthermore, Kashyyk will in all events end up as nothing more than another high level adventure planet, which in itself isn't all that bad, but I hardly think another Endor or Dathomir is worth $24.99.
Most of the SWG population awaits RoTW because the much anticipated Combat Balance will be released simultaneously. SWG users await the combat upgrade as fervently as the Jews await the messiah, and SOE has only fuelled this urgency by promising, for more than a year, that the combat rebalance will be that answer to all the game's ills.
I personally anticipate disappointment both from RoTW and from the combat rebalance, because SOE has never given us a reason to expect otherwise. Nonetheless, I'm pretty sure I'll be shelling out that $24.99, and I hate them for it.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Nobody named Miranda here
Well, The Shield is finally back on the air with new episodes. It's been a long wait, for those of us on the hook, but if the rest of the season is anything like the first episode then I think it'll all have been worth it.
I am particularly pleased by Glenn Close, an actress who is not exactly anyone's first choice for a gritty police drama, she offered a convincing performance as a hardnosed, practical, but still (at least apparently) on the right side of law. The former members of the now defunct strike team have all advanced in accordance with their particular personalities. Shane appears to be sliding even deeper into corruption, Lem has transfered somewhere that'll soothe his conscious, and Ronny remains as faceless as ever.
It remains to be seen how far they'll take Dutch on his trip down sociopath lane, but strangling cats can't hardly lead to anything good. CCH remains prickly and disatisfied, but it remains to be seen how she'll work for a captain who's occupying what was supposed to be her chair. Julian and Danny put in appearences, but they didn't really do anything. Still, it's only the first episode.
All in all, it was a good hour of television. I anticipate a Vic-Shane standoff as Shane slides deeper and deeper into the abyss, and that'll be a great episode. Until then, all I can do is steer clear of the fuzz and wait.
I am particularly pleased by Glenn Close, an actress who is not exactly anyone's first choice for a gritty police drama, she offered a convincing performance as a hardnosed, practical, but still (at least apparently) on the right side of law. The former members of the now defunct strike team have all advanced in accordance with their particular personalities. Shane appears to be sliding even deeper into corruption, Lem has transfered somewhere that'll soothe his conscious, and Ronny remains as faceless as ever.
It remains to be seen how far they'll take Dutch on his trip down sociopath lane, but strangling cats can't hardly lead to anything good. CCH remains prickly and disatisfied, but it remains to be seen how she'll work for a captain who's occupying what was supposed to be her chair. Julian and Danny put in appearences, but they didn't really do anything. Still, it's only the first episode.
All in all, it was a good hour of television. I anticipate a Vic-Shane standoff as Shane slides deeper and deeper into the abyss, and that'll be a great episode. Until then, all I can do is steer clear of the fuzz and wait.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Redemption
Well, by now probably everyone has seen the new Star Wars trailer for Episode III. It is quite cool, I have to say, and I'm anticipating the movie with a sense of optimism I hadn't dare feel previously in light of how badly the other two movies completely blew. I especially like the part where Samuel L. Jackson and a bunch of other Jedi go to arrest the Chancellor, though the "Are you threatening me, Master Jedi" response was a bit weak. That part called for something better than a Beavis and Butthead flashback.
I actually rank prettly far down on the ladder of Star Wars fandom. I've seen all the movies, of course, but I didn't really bother with the books, comics, and other stuff that compromise the EU (Extended Universe in geekspeek). I did wait with a bunch of friends for 22 hours in line to see Episode I, but that wasn't really for the movie itself so much as to have a quixotic adventure and skip class. I play SWG, the Star Wars MMORPG, but that is pretty much a triumph of enthusiasm over experience rather than an endorsment of Star Wars or the game itself.
I hope that Lucas pulled out all the stops for this last film. The other two movies have done a hackjob on his reputation, not to mention permanently marring his masterpiece. If he can go out with a bang, people may be somewhat disposed to overlook his recent mistakes. Of course, in this movie he gets to work with Darth Vader, possibly the coolest villian in the history of the cinema. It'd take a real moron to screw that up, but when you think that he also came up with Jar-Jar and Ewoks, I guess all you can do is buy your ticket and cross your fingers.
I actually rank prettly far down on the ladder of Star Wars fandom. I've seen all the movies, of course, but I didn't really bother with the books, comics, and other stuff that compromise the EU (Extended Universe in geekspeek). I did wait with a bunch of friends for 22 hours in line to see Episode I, but that wasn't really for the movie itself so much as to have a quixotic adventure and skip class. I play SWG, the Star Wars MMORPG, but that is pretty much a triumph of enthusiasm over experience rather than an endorsment of Star Wars or the game itself.
I hope that Lucas pulled out all the stops for this last film. The other two movies have done a hackjob on his reputation, not to mention permanently marring his masterpiece. If he can go out with a bang, people may be somewhat disposed to overlook his recent mistakes. Of course, in this movie he gets to work with Darth Vader, possibly the coolest villian in the history of the cinema. It'd take a real moron to screw that up, but when you think that he also came up with Jar-Jar and Ewoks, I guess all you can do is buy your ticket and cross your fingers.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Ten things I wish weren't true about me
1. I wish I wasn't allergic to so many stupid plants and animals
2. I wish I didn't have a hard time with dairy products
3. I wish I weren't such a lousy quarterback
4. I wish I weren't so judgmental
5. I wish I weren't still in school
6. I wish I weren't so fickle
7. I wish I didn't use the word "exceedingly" so often when I speak
8. I wish I were just a little less lazy
9. I wish I weren't as scared of taking risks
10. I wish I weren't so lax regarding automotive maintenance
2. I wish I didn't have a hard time with dairy products
3. I wish I weren't such a lousy quarterback
4. I wish I weren't so judgmental
5. I wish I weren't still in school
6. I wish I weren't so fickle
7. I wish I didn't use the word "exceedingly" so often when I speak
8. I wish I were just a little less lazy
9. I wish I weren't as scared of taking risks
10. I wish I weren't so lax regarding automotive maintenance
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Ten things I wish were true about me
1. I wish I had a photographic memory
2. I wish I liked vegetables more than I do
3. I wish I could play the piano
4. I wish I had a spaceship of some kind; a time machine would be acceptable too
5. I wish I had a little more paitence
6. I wish I'd have thought up a better series of posts
7. I wish I could speak another language
8. I wish I had a car that made fewer disturbing noises
9. I wish I were involved in the theatre
10. I wish I was a little bit taller; I wish I were a baller*
*= Well, the song may not be great, but the video was funny as hell.
2. I wish I liked vegetables more than I do
3. I wish I could play the piano
4. I wish I had a spaceship of some kind; a time machine would be acceptable too
5. I wish I had a little more paitence
6. I wish I'd have thought up a better series of posts
7. I wish I could speak another language
8. I wish I had a car that made fewer disturbing noises
9. I wish I were involved in the theatre
10. I wish I was a little bit taller; I wish I were a baller*
*= Well, the song may not be great, but the video was funny as hell.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Ten things that are true about me
1. I'm a Gemini, and a monkey too
2. I know all the words to the "Major-General" song
3. I don't like the taste of alcohol
4. I like the smell of cigarettes, but I don't smoke
5. I'm half-chinese, like the food at Mr. Chau's
6. I can describe, in disturbing detail, the causes of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire
7. My elbows bend weird
8. My middle name is Stewart
9. I like glasses on women
10. I don't believe in Nostradamus (or, rather, in his ability to predict the future)
2. I know all the words to the "Major-General" song
3. I don't like the taste of alcohol
4. I like the smell of cigarettes, but I don't smoke
5. I'm half-chinese, like the food at Mr. Chau's
6. I can describe, in disturbing detail, the causes of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire
7. My elbows bend weird
8. My middle name is Stewart
9. I like glasses on women
10. I don't believe in Nostradamus (or, rather, in his ability to predict the future)
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Pointless Factoid VII
Babylon 5 actor Peter Jurasik was once on an episode of Night Court.
Okay, I don't care either.
Okay, I don't care either.
Sunday, March 06, 2005
The Inequity of Chromosomes
I'd like to conclude my discussion on toys with a short exposition on how much it'd suck to be a girl. Now, I do not mean to imply with that statement those improper assertions of female inferiority, the maintenance of which is a disservice to both women and men, that have long plagued society. Rather, I conclude my entire premise solely on the available forms of "gender appropriate" child entertainment.
As a boy, it was my sole duty to engage in mock struggles the outcome of which would decide the fate of universes. Day in and day out it was I and my compatriots who kept Earth safe from Megatron, Mum-Ra, Dr. Doom, and Captain Planet. Especially Captain planet. That guy was up to no good. We had at our disposal guns, swords, monster-slave things, and other implements of ingenious malice. Even our buildings were cool. We had the sewer lair, Castle Greyskull, and Metroplex.
Girls, by comparison, were expected to remain within the dazzlingly insipid worlds of My Little Pony, Barbie, and Strawberry Shortcake. There the momentous issues are what color hat to wear, which flavor frosting to use, and the ever popular "what will my husband's job be?" guessing game. I suppose this monotony would be useful if we were looking to train house slaves, which was probably the intention, but as a form of entertainment these toys fall pathetically short.
Of course, I am just one man so I cannot really do anything to address this unfortunate inequity. Still, I feel it would be improper for me to mention toys and how much I enjoyed them as a child without noting how royally hosed the girls got.
As a boy, it was my sole duty to engage in mock struggles the outcome of which would decide the fate of universes. Day in and day out it was I and my compatriots who kept Earth safe from Megatron, Mum-Ra, Dr. Doom, and Captain Planet. Especially Captain planet. That guy was up to no good. We had at our disposal guns, swords, monster-slave things, and other implements of ingenious malice. Even our buildings were cool. We had the sewer lair, Castle Greyskull, and Metroplex.
Girls, by comparison, were expected to remain within the dazzlingly insipid worlds of My Little Pony, Barbie, and Strawberry Shortcake. There the momentous issues are what color hat to wear, which flavor frosting to use, and the ever popular "what will my husband's job be?" guessing game. I suppose this monotony would be useful if we were looking to train house slaves, which was probably the intention, but as a form of entertainment these toys fall pathetically short.
Of course, I am just one man so I cannot really do anything to address this unfortunate inequity. Still, I feel it would be improper for me to mention toys and how much I enjoyed them as a child without noting how royally hosed the girls got.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
The March of Progress
Since I'm off from school this week, I figured I'd use it to write a few words about some of my favorite childhood toys. When I see the things kids play with now, there's just no comparison. In any measurable sense their toys are just way cooler. I mean, to use just one example, I remember having an original gameboy. It was big and clunky, and the screen was this tiny black and yellow thing capable of rendering, on a good day, two or three pixels at a time. Now the damn things are in color, and you can play their games on the bigger machines. Still, it does seem to me that the toys of today have lost a little something, and I blame this on the wussification of child-directed entertainment.
When I was a kid, boys were supposed to play with guns and knives and other impliments of destruction. My toys had missiles, multi-barrel laser cannons, and backpack mounted nukes. They fought eternal (and pointless) wars against villians equipped with all manner of devistating weaponry. Today's kid's stuff, while certainly far from violence free, have taken a decidedly wimpy turn. Now, this may objectively be a good thing. After all, there is little to recommend in the pointless application of force. But even so, I can't help but feel that little boys (and girls, if they're into that stuff) ought to spend their time pretending to blow stuff up.
When I was a kid, boys were supposed to play with guns and knives and other impliments of destruction. My toys had missiles, multi-barrel laser cannons, and backpack mounted nukes. They fought eternal (and pointless) wars against villians equipped with all manner of devistating weaponry. Today's kid's stuff, while certainly far from violence free, have taken a decidedly wimpy turn. Now, this may objectively be a good thing. After all, there is little to recommend in the pointless application of force. But even so, I can't help but feel that little boys (and girls, if they're into that stuff) ought to spend their time pretending to blow stuff up.
Friday, March 04, 2005
More than meets the eye
Of course, no discussion of late eighties childhood toys would be complete without the Transformers. Damn these things were so cool. Especially in the beginning, when they were made out of diecast metal. Later, when they got cheap, they were made out of plastic. But even that wasn't so bad, because they started to come with neat options like seperate little head robots.
As a child I had few ambitions greater than the pursuit of Transformers. I snatched them up by the accumulation of my meager allowance, forsaking other diversions such as baseball cards (which I always regarded as boring - I mean, they don't *do* anything! They're just stupid cardstock with some dumb jock plastered over the front!) or candy. Now I wish I'd just kept my collection in good shape. I don't have any of them anymore, I don't think, unless there's some put away in storage somewhere. However, even if any had remained, I'm afraid the tender mercies of an imaginative child would ensure they were in no better than abysmal condition.
As a child I had few ambitions greater than the pursuit of Transformers. I snatched them up by the accumulation of my meager allowance, forsaking other diversions such as baseball cards (which I always regarded as boring - I mean, they don't *do* anything! They're just stupid cardstock with some dumb jock plastered over the front!) or candy. Now I wish I'd just kept my collection in good shape. I don't have any of them anymore, I don't think, unless there's some put away in storage somewhere. However, even if any had remained, I'm afraid the tender mercies of an imaginative child would ensure they were in no better than abysmal condition.
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Animal Farm
Today's toy spotlight falls on Barnyard Commandos. I'm not sure if anyone else ever had any, but they were these funny plastic animal things that you mounted with all manner of guns. There were two sides, pigs and rams. Every toy came with a copy of that side's secret battle language. The pigs spoke pig latin, and the rams had a language too but I don't remember the name. They were actually incredibly stupid toys, so it is to my credit that I never had more than one or two. Even so, I wish I'd kept one to have around.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
The Eternal Struggle
Did anyone else ever have any Battle Beasts? They were little rubber monster-things, approximately the same size as muscle men, but they weren't that weird pink and they had a holographic sticker you had to rub like old Transformers. The sticker would tell you what element the monster belonged to. Of course, with the earlier ones you could tell anyway, since they were all color coded. But they changed that later, so then you had to rub the sticker. I still remember the commercial.
"Fire beats Wood. Wood beats Water. Water beats Fire."
"Fire beats Wood. Wood beats Water. Water beats Fire."