I'd like to take this time to write 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 made for TV movies on Lifetime.
I suppose some readers may be wondering what I am doing watching Lifetime. I assure you it is simply because that's the network that shows Frasier (However, were I inclined toward Lifetime generally, I would be secure enough in my masculinity to admit it). When the object of my interest lapses in favor of commercial advertisement, I am subjected to the network's programming notifications.
As a man, my television requires nothing other than explosions and women. Although I may decry the results of pandering to such a common denominator, at least it must be said that male television is entertaining. But what's more, it's empowering. The subjects and characters in our television are dynamic, energetic, and confident.
Women's television, on the other hand, is just as shallow but tends to rely on the weakness of the audience. Lifetime's inane offerings have titles like She stole my family, My unfaithful husband, or A child's ransom. The closest thing you get to active characters are battered women who finally rise up and kill their oppressor. To make matters worse, the remaining commercials on Lifetime are an endless succession of cleaning agents, laundry detergents, and culinary implements. Women are shown brought to the heights of ecstasy by the opportunity to use a new vacuum cleaner.
It is not my intention at this time to rail against the status of gender stereotypes. Certainly they are unfair and troubling, but they are also beyond the scope of any single post or even (to be perfectly honest), my general interest. However, I feel it appropriate to commiserate with women everywhere (at least, everywhere where they are subject to Lifetime) the pathetic offerings that make up their television networks.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Pointless Factoid XVII
The calculation of the digits of Pi is a method occasionally used to test the capabilities of computers.
Another fun fact about Pi, since learning of the concept in whatever grade of school I was in, I have yet to ever encounter any situation where that knowledge was of any degree of relevance.
Another fun fact about Pi, since learning of the concept in whatever grade of school I was in, I have yet to ever encounter any situation where that knowledge was of any degree of relevance.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Blegh
I think that's the only word that adequately describes my condition over the last few days. However, I seem to have turned a corner and am generally feeling better. More of my particular brand of irreverent irrelevance later.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Little Favors
To preserve the sanity of my readers as well as the commentary of an issue of importance, I have made this "throw-away" post for people to indulge in their reciprocal commenting obligations. If you would like to read my long diatribe on torture, you are more than welcome, and to comment as well. But if you would rather avoid the novelette, I have provided this alternative.
Like a Seinfeld episode or The Crying of Lot 49, there's nothing to this post, but even I cannot be insightful all the time.
Like a Seinfeld episode or The Crying of Lot 49, there's nothing to this post, but even I cannot be insightful all the time.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
A Protestation on the Nature and Uses of Torture
A few days ago, President Bush admitted the existence of secret CIA-run prisons. "Secret" is, of course, more a description of their ideal rather than actual status, knowledge of their operation having been fairly common for some time now. Accompanying this admission was a stout defense of the institutions and the "tough" interrogation tactics used by CIA personnel. These revelations were met with pretty much the sort of responses you would expect, acceptance or rejection according to one's political proclivities. It should come as no surprise that I have an opinion on the matter too, but I hesitate to discuss the matter.
Politics has always represented something of a problem for me, at least on the internet. Every time I feel like discussing some current event, I must overcome this peculiar falling sensation. You see, political discussions online seem to me nothing other than a vast abyss, a deep void of unimaginable depth. Like a black hole, once you've been caught, there's no escape. I could see myself become consumed with argument and counter-argument, although the reality is that such substantive communications are likely the minority in a field that almost assuredly reduces down to strawmen and insults. Thus it is with great reluctance that I occasionally make political posts.
Having temporarily overcome my hesitation, I choose to take this opportunity to denounce the secret prison program. I do so for substantive, moral, and legal reasons, though ever cognizant of the possible dividends to be gained through such constructions.
Torture
Torture is something of a buzz word right now. The left wields it like a club, swinging away from a moral high ground reduced to a mole hill through cynical political opportunism. The right's position is far hazier. Although they always begin with a disclaimer denouncing torture, conservatives tend to defend it in principle with a variety of arguments, ranging from accusations that liberals would "coddle" terrorists to apocalyptic prognostications resulting from it's rejection. I highly doubt that few Republicans would be willing to criticize the administration even were it revealed that there was wide-spread and officially sanctioned acts of depraved brutality.
This suspicion stems from the fact that all of the conservative rhetoric on "tough interrogation tactics" applies equally to torture (and indeed it is not quite clear that the aforementioned inquisitorial activities are not torture). Thus, in order to reasonably reject the prison system, one must reject torture. But is that really such a good idea? I think so, and I shall endeavor to illustrate why it is the only rational, moral, and strategically sound decision.
Why We Torture
November 23rd seemed like any other day. Difficulties both foreign and domestic catapult the Democrats to Election Day successes, wrestling control of both Congressional Houses from the Republicans. Liberal celebrations are cut short, however, by the news of a nuclear blast in the port city of Los Angeles. Hundreds of thousands confirmed dead, millions injured, and California's largest city reduced to radioactive rubble.
This is the doomsday scenario. It features prominently in every single conservative defenestration of torture and abuse, and resides deep within the heart of every American too (that's what makes it such a good political tool). If we knew of such a plot, and we knew we had someone in custody who could reveal its inner workings, wouldn't we be justified in forcing the revelation through torture?
Realistically speaking, there can be only one answer. Of course, if you knew, and the decision was one person against thousands or millions, the only choice lies in the preservation of the group. As Vulcan logic long ago illustrated, "the needs of the many outweighed he needs of the few, or the one." By such arithmetic, there really is no other conclusion. And I use arithmetic purposefully, for it would then be a simple matter of mathematics; as in math, there would be only one solution to the equation. Given this assertion, how can I maintain hostility to torture?
To begin with, we will never actually know. We may suspect with degrees of confidence, but utter certainty will always evade us. This is true in everything that we do; all human events are subject to unforeseen vicissitudes. We have a word for that. It's called risk. When we accept torture, we will do so not with the comforting absolution of necessity, but the far more dubious justification of the possible. Of course, one could imagine probabilities so probable as to be virtually inevitable, and one would also have to allow that more latitudes are appropriate where there is more risk. And therein lies the trap.
Suppose instead of certainty, we had but a one-percent or even perhaps only a fraction of a percent of uncovering a nuclear plot. It would not be acceptable to torture someone for shoplifting revelations under such conditions, but nuclear devastation is another matter. So we apply the most abusive coercions with the least justification, or maybe even none at all, absolved by the magnitude of the threat.
It should shortly become obvious that this line of reasoning eventually vindicates any efforts, no matter how cruel or depraved, so long as the expected evil is sufficiently menacing. It would not take long before torture sustained the use of torture, and all the ills we feared from others we visit upon ourselves.
Frail Constitution
Loathed though we may be to admit it, there is a certain degree of comfort in the belief that torture would be limited to a distant and hostile people, burdened by primitive cultures and characterized by a barbaric religion. Please note that neither of those two things are true, but in the minds of many (but thankfully, not most) Americans, abuses committed on Arabs, especially aggressive Arabs, are no great crimes. Unfortunate, regrettable to be sure, as we are not a cruel people, but if necessary then so be it.
However, not only is this position morally bankrupt even were it accurate, but the arbitrary dividing line between foreign and domestic would quickly dissolve. Only two categories would remain after the inauguration of atrocity: Convicted and suspected.
Democracy is a frail thing. Despite our modern sentiments, a quick review of history reveals that security and not liberty has ever been the great concern of the masses. People purchase security through expediency, and abstract niceties like Due Process are quickly discarded in favor of more comforting paradigms. Already the Constitution withers before the oppressive sun of secret warrants, military tribunals, and illegal detention.
American citizens have been held for long periods, deprived of rights, refused the presence of counsel, and imprisoned without recourse to the judicial process. Executive fiat has become a law onto itself, buttressed in equal part by a compliant Congress and an effective trade in the currency of public apprehension. For now these travesties are the exception of an otherwise laudable rule. But how long would the Bill of Rights, for all their majesty nothing more than ink and paper, stand against the claims of necessity?
The acceptance of torture is nothing other than the acclamation of tyranny. The end may come by small steps or great bounds, but our democratic heritage will not survive the enthronement of atrocity.
Poor Dividends and Unfortunate Externalities
Finally, as if the self-expanding and tyrannical implications of torture were not bad enough, we are also faced with the fact that it is an implement of dubious strategic value.
Torture, by its very nature, produces extreme stresses on a person. The target may hold out for a time, subject to his nature and conditioning, but eventually everyone breaks. The thing is, "breaking" someone does not always produce the best results. In their desperate attempt to avoid further pain, a tortured subject will provide both what he knows and what he thinks his interrogator wishes to hear.
Both true and lie, having proceeded from the same coercion, wear the same shroud of reliability. That is, either high for you believe that a broken man would not lie, or else low, as you suspect that he may simply be squealing to save himself. In neither case is one piece of "intelligence" more worthy than the other, unless you have at hand other sources. If you have such alternatives, then the reliability increases somewhat (subject, of course, to their own confidence), but still remain suspect. And in their absence, what you have may be no more valuable than the musings of a high school cheerleading squad.
As if the questionable reliability of torture were not enough, such indulgences do not sit well with a substantial portion of Americans and an even greater percentage of foreigners. Every abusive revelation makes it that much harder to deal fairly with those Arabic countries who wish for a more peaceful way. Each outrage fans the flames of global terrorism, likely producing far more dangers than you ever prevented in the first place. The acceptance of human degradation here also makes it harder for us to impose moral authority on bankrupt and cruel regimes abroad.
However, disdain for Americans will not be limited merely to our enemies. Our allies too have profound misgivings of our activities, and our methods. Some may say we don't need anyone else, and that might or might not be true. However, certainly it would be easier to protect ourselves with the cooperation of others. Safety, that great enabler which first led us to the atrocious expedient, is not furthered by the alienation of allies.
Finally, many Americans oppose torture. They are just as patriotic as their more aggressive countrymen, and perhaps more so, as they stand for the proposition that a society is to be judged not only in how it treats its own, but in how it treats others. We are heirs to a great democratic tradition of individual liberty, restricted governance, and guaranteed protections. Acquiescence to this malevolent proposition tarnishes our legacy forever, leaving us with less to protect and less to pass on.
Politics has always represented something of a problem for me, at least on the internet. Every time I feel like discussing some current event, I must overcome this peculiar falling sensation. You see, political discussions online seem to me nothing other than a vast abyss, a deep void of unimaginable depth. Like a black hole, once you've been caught, there's no escape. I could see myself become consumed with argument and counter-argument, although the reality is that such substantive communications are likely the minority in a field that almost assuredly reduces down to strawmen and insults. Thus it is with great reluctance that I occasionally make political posts.
Having temporarily overcome my hesitation, I choose to take this opportunity to denounce the secret prison program. I do so for substantive, moral, and legal reasons, though ever cognizant of the possible dividends to be gained through such constructions.
Torture
Torture is something of a buzz word right now. The left wields it like a club, swinging away from a moral high ground reduced to a mole hill through cynical political opportunism. The right's position is far hazier. Although they always begin with a disclaimer denouncing torture, conservatives tend to defend it in principle with a variety of arguments, ranging from accusations that liberals would "coddle" terrorists to apocalyptic prognostications resulting from it's rejection. I highly doubt that few Republicans would be willing to criticize the administration even were it revealed that there was wide-spread and officially sanctioned acts of depraved brutality.
This suspicion stems from the fact that all of the conservative rhetoric on "tough interrogation tactics" applies equally to torture (and indeed it is not quite clear that the aforementioned inquisitorial activities are not torture). Thus, in order to reasonably reject the prison system, one must reject torture. But is that really such a good idea? I think so, and I shall endeavor to illustrate why it is the only rational, moral, and strategically sound decision.
Why We Torture
November 23rd seemed like any other day. Difficulties both foreign and domestic catapult the Democrats to Election Day successes, wrestling control of both Congressional Houses from the Republicans. Liberal celebrations are cut short, however, by the news of a nuclear blast in the port city of Los Angeles. Hundreds of thousands confirmed dead, millions injured, and California's largest city reduced to radioactive rubble.
This is the doomsday scenario. It features prominently in every single conservative defenestration of torture and abuse, and resides deep within the heart of every American too (that's what makes it such a good political tool). If we knew of such a plot, and we knew we had someone in custody who could reveal its inner workings, wouldn't we be justified in forcing the revelation through torture?
Realistically speaking, there can be only one answer. Of course, if you knew, and the decision was one person against thousands or millions, the only choice lies in the preservation of the group. As Vulcan logic long ago illustrated, "the needs of the many outweighed he needs of the few, or the one." By such arithmetic, there really is no other conclusion. And I use arithmetic purposefully, for it would then be a simple matter of mathematics; as in math, there would be only one solution to the equation. Given this assertion, how can I maintain hostility to torture?
To begin with, we will never actually know. We may suspect with degrees of confidence, but utter certainty will always evade us. This is true in everything that we do; all human events are subject to unforeseen vicissitudes. We have a word for that. It's called risk. When we accept torture, we will do so not with the comforting absolution of necessity, but the far more dubious justification of the possible. Of course, one could imagine probabilities so probable as to be virtually inevitable, and one would also have to allow that more latitudes are appropriate where there is more risk. And therein lies the trap.
Suppose instead of certainty, we had but a one-percent or even perhaps only a fraction of a percent of uncovering a nuclear plot. It would not be acceptable to torture someone for shoplifting revelations under such conditions, but nuclear devastation is another matter. So we apply the most abusive coercions with the least justification, or maybe even none at all, absolved by the magnitude of the threat.
It should shortly become obvious that this line of reasoning eventually vindicates any efforts, no matter how cruel or depraved, so long as the expected evil is sufficiently menacing. It would not take long before torture sustained the use of torture, and all the ills we feared from others we visit upon ourselves.
Frail Constitution
Loathed though we may be to admit it, there is a certain degree of comfort in the belief that torture would be limited to a distant and hostile people, burdened by primitive cultures and characterized by a barbaric religion. Please note that neither of those two things are true, but in the minds of many (but thankfully, not most) Americans, abuses committed on Arabs, especially aggressive Arabs, are no great crimes. Unfortunate, regrettable to be sure, as we are not a cruel people, but if necessary then so be it.
However, not only is this position morally bankrupt even were it accurate, but the arbitrary dividing line between foreign and domestic would quickly dissolve. Only two categories would remain after the inauguration of atrocity: Convicted and suspected.
Democracy is a frail thing. Despite our modern sentiments, a quick review of history reveals that security and not liberty has ever been the great concern of the masses. People purchase security through expediency, and abstract niceties like Due Process are quickly discarded in favor of more comforting paradigms. Already the Constitution withers before the oppressive sun of secret warrants, military tribunals, and illegal detention.
American citizens have been held for long periods, deprived of rights, refused the presence of counsel, and imprisoned without recourse to the judicial process. Executive fiat has become a law onto itself, buttressed in equal part by a compliant Congress and an effective trade in the currency of public apprehension. For now these travesties are the exception of an otherwise laudable rule. But how long would the Bill of Rights, for all their majesty nothing more than ink and paper, stand against the claims of necessity?
The acceptance of torture is nothing other than the acclamation of tyranny. The end may come by small steps or great bounds, but our democratic heritage will not survive the enthronement of atrocity.
Poor Dividends and Unfortunate Externalities
Finally, as if the self-expanding and tyrannical implications of torture were not bad enough, we are also faced with the fact that it is an implement of dubious strategic value.
Torture, by its very nature, produces extreme stresses on a person. The target may hold out for a time, subject to his nature and conditioning, but eventually everyone breaks. The thing is, "breaking" someone does not always produce the best results. In their desperate attempt to avoid further pain, a tortured subject will provide both what he knows and what he thinks his interrogator wishes to hear.
Both true and lie, having proceeded from the same coercion, wear the same shroud of reliability. That is, either high for you believe that a broken man would not lie, or else low, as you suspect that he may simply be squealing to save himself. In neither case is one piece of "intelligence" more worthy than the other, unless you have at hand other sources. If you have such alternatives, then the reliability increases somewhat (subject, of course, to their own confidence), but still remain suspect. And in their absence, what you have may be no more valuable than the musings of a high school cheerleading squad.
As if the questionable reliability of torture were not enough, such indulgences do not sit well with a substantial portion of Americans and an even greater percentage of foreigners. Every abusive revelation makes it that much harder to deal fairly with those Arabic countries who wish for a more peaceful way. Each outrage fans the flames of global terrorism, likely producing far more dangers than you ever prevented in the first place. The acceptance of human degradation here also makes it harder for us to impose moral authority on bankrupt and cruel regimes abroad.
However, disdain for Americans will not be limited merely to our enemies. Our allies too have profound misgivings of our activities, and our methods. Some may say we don't need anyone else, and that might or might not be true. However, certainly it would be easier to protect ourselves with the cooperation of others. Safety, that great enabler which first led us to the atrocious expedient, is not furthered by the alienation of allies.
Finally, many Americans oppose torture. They are just as patriotic as their more aggressive countrymen, and perhaps more so, as they stand for the proposition that a society is to be judged not only in how it treats its own, but in how it treats others. We are heirs to a great democratic tradition of individual liberty, restricted governance, and guaranteed protections. Acquiescence to this malevolent proposition tarnishes our legacy forever, leaving us with less to protect and less to pass on.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Veni, Vidi, Vici
This last weekend I was at the Conquest gaming convention in Burlingame. These conventions always completely floor me, as four consecutive days of little sleep, poor nutrition, and constant activity prove very draining. However, the experience is always pleasant and I look forward to their occasional though regular occurrence.
Over the length of the con I participated in a myriad of games, portraying everyone from the King of Prussia to a juvenile knife-wielding cannibalistic sociopath (roles not entirely dissimilar). My efforts met with a mixture of success and failure, but were in all instances entirely enjoyable.
An unfortunate side-effect, however, is this distorted sleep schedule. I slept for almost 24 hours after returning from the convention, and the rest of the week has labored under this unfortunate externality. Sleep comes at odd times, when at all, exasperating a problem I have long dealt with. My waking hours are of little more value, as a general malaise drains both energy and enthusiasm, coloring even simple tasks with the most oppressive shades of difficulty. That is, in fact, the reason for the dearth of posts this last week. However, I can do little else but ride it out. Guess I'll have something more to say then.
P.S. Lest you think I have forgotten you, I shall resume my ordinary diligence in tracking the various minutiae all of you see fit to post about on your own blogs, and respond to any comments any of you might have regarding my own trivialities later.
Over the length of the con I participated in a myriad of games, portraying everyone from the King of Prussia to a juvenile knife-wielding cannibalistic sociopath (roles not entirely dissimilar). My efforts met with a mixture of success and failure, but were in all instances entirely enjoyable.
An unfortunate side-effect, however, is this distorted sleep schedule. I slept for almost 24 hours after returning from the convention, and the rest of the week has labored under this unfortunate externality. Sleep comes at odd times, when at all, exasperating a problem I have long dealt with. My waking hours are of little more value, as a general malaise drains both energy and enthusiasm, coloring even simple tasks with the most oppressive shades of difficulty. That is, in fact, the reason for the dearth of posts this last week. However, I can do little else but ride it out. Guess I'll have something more to say then.
P.S. Lest you think I have forgotten you, I shall resume my ordinary diligence in tracking the various minutiae all of you see fit to post about on your own blogs, and respond to any comments any of you might have regarding my own trivialities later.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
The volume of an irregular object
Over the last few days, I took the opportunity to catch up on Eureka, a new show on SciFi. I had previously seen the pilot and, having been sufficiently amused, fully intended to follow up with the regular episodes.
For those unfamiliar with the series, the premise centers around a down to earth sheriff charged with policing a small town populated by super geniuses. Everyone in Eureka is connected in one way or another to Global Dynamics, a huge secret research company filled with bizarre high tech projects that cause problems on a weekly basis. And it's the main character's job to try and restore order after something blows up.
My initial opinion was favorable but ultimately uncommitted. I would have watched and been entertained, but it didn't seem like the show would lay claim to any genuine affection. The third episode changed that, turning me into a full fledged fan. Specifically, there is this scene about two-thirds the way through where the protagonist confronts the villian with owning the following impliment:
"A wormholing, time bending, invisiblying device that shields you from the mind."
As far as I'm concerned, this is the best show SciFi has produced since Farscape. If you have a few hours to waste and either good TV channels or an internet connection, I fully recommend giving it a look see.
For those unfamiliar with the series, the premise centers around a down to earth sheriff charged with policing a small town populated by super geniuses. Everyone in Eureka is connected in one way or another to Global Dynamics, a huge secret research company filled with bizarre high tech projects that cause problems on a weekly basis. And it's the main character's job to try and restore order after something blows up.
My initial opinion was favorable but ultimately uncommitted. I would have watched and been entertained, but it didn't seem like the show would lay claim to any genuine affection. The third episode changed that, turning me into a full fledged fan. Specifically, there is this scene about two-thirds the way through where the protagonist confronts the villian with owning the following impliment:
"A wormholing, time bending, invisiblying device that shields you from the mind."
As far as I'm concerned, this is the best show SciFi has produced since Farscape. If you have a few hours to waste and either good TV channels or an internet connection, I fully recommend giving it a look see.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Replacement
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.
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.
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.