I Am Uninformed

IT'S THE END. BUT THE MOMENT HAS BEEN PREPARED FOR...

2006-09-10T16:22:00.000-07:00

Well. I'm not sure how to put this, exactly. "I am Uninformed" is over. It feels like the time is right.

See, I hadn't originally intended to write a blog. I wanted to start a webzine. But, since I was only updating that webzine once a week, in a media environment that requires 24 hour non-stop new content. I am Uninformed was created to provide a place where readers could come to get a daily fix, in between the updates of the main site. The name of this blog comes from the fact that I did not want to write about the news, because I wanted topical stuff to appear on Sloganeering.Org.

Well, Sloganeering.Org got sick, and the quality of the writing (on my part, anyway) went down. Worse, the updates started happening less frequently as I devoted myself to the low-standard environment of the blog.

It turns out that that was the wrong approach. Blog content shouldn't be lousy. So I stopped posting for fear of writing crap. So the updates slowed down there as well.

I want Sloganeering.Org to be a better site. That means that I am Uninformed has to stop.

And, to round out this farewell, let's have another quote from Doctor Who:

One day I shall come back. Yes, I shall come back. Until then, there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs, and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine.

-From "The Dalek Invasion of Earth," written by Terry Nation

.... In fact, I'm already back. You can find me at Sloganeering.Org, of course. But I have also created the new Sloganeering.Org Blog. This new blog will deal with more topical subjects, and will not include so much personal information. To those who will follow me to the new location, welcome. To those that won't, goodbye. I'll miss you.

MORE THAN THE USUAL SILENCE

2006-09-01T22:58:00.000-07:00

Well, the end of my current contract is rapidly approaching (it ends next Friday), and with it comes the inevitable hunt for a new one, a rapid fire series of calls to various contacts and prospective employers, and deep feelings of desperation.

So, next week, I will be very busy, and probably won't even post with the limited frequency that I have been. I'll try to have something neat, week after next.

ON A RECENT ADVERTISEMENT

2006-08-29T17:39:00.000-07:00

Cheryl Lowry at Flak Magazine asks, Is America hungry for giant, dancing blocks of poop?

You may have seen those ads for Domino's new brownie squares, and you might have had the same reaction. After all, everything "Fudgems" embraces gets coated with brown.

The product itself is yet another attempt to expand the range of products designed to "add value" to your order. If you call a pizza place it's a given that you are going to order pizza. For years efforts were made to try to get you to order more pizza then you really need, since that was pretty much they only way to make a $10.00 order into a $20.00 order.

But over the past couple of decades, fast-food pizza chains have been designing various supplimentary items that might be cheaper than a second pie, but have remarkably large profit margin. Things like buffalo wings, bread sticks, or anything else that can be tossed in an aluminum pan, sent through the oven, and kept in a warmer for hours on end. The speed at which these products can be prepared and deployed means not having to worry about their impact to your core business (pizza) and their low cost for materials and (relatively) high cost means that they are worth the minimal effort.

I don't really get it, myself; but then, I only order pizza for one, usually. A medium pizza from any national chain takes me more than one sitting to finish -- I don't have room for any additional food items. In anycase, when I order pizza, I want to eat pizza; not chicken, not bread dough, not little cinnimon balls.

And not poopy fudgems.

THE DRUNKIEST

2006-08-24T21:20:00.000-07:00

From MSNBC.com comes a link to another damn Forbes.com slide show. This time it's about America's hardest-drinking cities.

[...] Milwaukee isn't just your average brewing town. It's the hardest-drinking city in America, according to Forbes.com's ranking of America's Drunkest Cities.

Okay, who cares?

The real issue here is the proliferation of slide-shows on Forbes.com. First of all, was there some sort of demand for web articles that won't sit still and let you read them? Seriously, I thought Forbes was all about providing content for the rich, and those who aspire to cup the genitals of the rich; I had no idea that either of those groups could read so fast.

Let's not forget that another, more infamous article on Forbes.com got the slide show treatment.

LITIGATION NEWS

2006-08-24T17:18:00.000-07:00

Ed Champion has recieved a message of a less-than-friendly nature from a certain writer. I'm afraid to try to explain what's happening, in case I might get it wrong, so I'll just direct you
to Ed's post.

Incidentally, here is the post that the first post refers to.

And, incidentally, if you or anyone you know thinks they might be at risk for posting something on his or her blog, here's the Electronic Frontier Foundation's Legal Guide for Bloggers.

Not related: The ACLU "Bust Card".

KUIPER BELT BLUES

2006-08-24T13:58:00.000-07:00

So Pluto is not a planet anymore. Oh well.

I'm sorry if I don't seem emotionally moved by this whole thing, though Jove knows I should be. I was a junior astronomer and everything!

When astronomers speak to one another they use technial jargon, which requires the use of terms whose definitions are precise. Little wonder that they wanted to narrow the definition of "planet" to something that wouldn't include a whole host of other, unrelated bodies.

You and I, however, do not speak in technical jargon when we speak of astronomy. (Even if you are a professional astronomer, the odds that I could speak to you in your own language are slim. You'll have to dumb things down for me.) The language of the non-professional -- literally "laymen's terms" -- is not required to be precise. I promise not to tell the IAU if you call Pluto a planet, as long as you return the favor.

It's the perogative of the common person to use words however they damn well feel like it; disposible tissues are not all "Kleenex", cotton ear-swabs are not all "Q-tips", portable mp3 players are not all "iPods". Except, according to the popular lexicon, they are.

Oh, it may not be very cultured or classy to say we've got 9 planets. And people might think my insistence on the Ptolemaic* model of the solar system is in direct contridiction to the facts, but I am unmoved. I will continue to drink my lemon-lime flavored Coca-Cola, xeroxing documents with my Canon copier, and sitting here in the center of the universe.

* * *

Others say good-bye to Pluto the Planet:
A Transcript of Pluto's Consession Speech

The real reason Pluto lost it's status (2nd comic)

*[Correction: The original version of this post used the word "Copernican" in the place of the word "Ptolemaic". This ruined the joke, which was meant to imply that the writer (me) continued to believe in certain models of the solar system, even though they are outdated. Of course, the Copernican model is out of date due to its assertion that the orbits of the planets are circular, when, in fact, they are elliptical. But that is a very fine point compared to the differences between Ptolemy's geocentric theory and Copernicus's heliocentric one. We (me) regret the comedic error.]

GAMEJERK IS DEAD

2006-08-23T21:54:00.000-07:00

Gamejerk (my video game-themed blog) is dead. I killed it, and I'm glad.

I GUESS "BRAIN CRAPPING" WAS TOO GRAPHIC

2006-08-21T16:10:00.000-07:00

Spotted this post at Lifehacker that deals with something Glen Stansberry calls "diarrhea of the brain."

The premise is that sitting down and forcing yourself to be creative doesn't often produce results; you are more likely to get good ideas when you are doing something unrelated. The key is to capture those ideas when you have them. Therefore, Mr. Stansberry's helpful hints.

Although some of the suggestions are a little "Getting Things Done-ish*," they all appear to be pretty useful. Except...

The first suggestion, "Always carry paper," sounds okay. And, I generally always have paper -- it's the writing implement that's the problem. Pens don't really fit comfortably into pants pockets, and I don't always where shirts that have pockets.

I'm serious where's a good place for storing a pen? (And before you make the hilarious suggestion that I stuff it up my ass, consider the fact that my head's already in there, leaving very little room for such luxury items.) I've thought about wearing one on a lanyard, but I'm nerdy-looking enough as it is.

*It's not that I have anything against Getting Things Done per se; but the book's cult member-like adherents have taken to prostletyzing in the cubicle aisles, which is rather irritating.

LEARN FOR LIFE

2006-08-17T14:54:00.000-07:00

I was clued in to this post on "life-long learning" via Lifehacker.
After dropping out of college, I promised myself that even if I never went back, I would at least continue to, uh, learn stuff. Over all, I suppose it's gone pretty well. I've certainly never had the money or time to take formal training in anything, and yet I do know more than I started out knowing, which means that I must have learned.

Still, I find self-training a pain in the ass; yes, it's worth it in most cases, but the memory of how tough it is makes it difficult to start educating myself on any new subject. Usually, I learn a little bit, then quit. Fortunately, that's probably okay. Check out this passaged (under the heading, "You don't need to master everything." Whew!)

I think the act of learning is usually what's important. Sure there are things you may need to learn for your job, or whatever, but don't feel like you need to become an expert at everything you pick up. For example, I'm reading a book (see, mixing it up) on Ruby On Rails. I'm learning a lot but I've got no intentions of becoming a Ruby programmer or RoR developer. My goal is to learn enough to be able to converse intelligently about it, but that's about it.

Yes, there is hope for folks like me -- or not. While it's not important to become an expert on everything, it would be nice to be an expert on something. Even the lower standard of being "[...] able to converse intelligently [...]" is beyond my grasp. If that's the phrase I'm looking for.

I'm slipping into a spiral of doubting my own knowledge! Who am I? Where's my dinner?!

THIS MIGHT BE OVERLOOKED

2006-08-17T12:56:00.000-07:00

Considering the other big news story hitting the airwaves (which you've already heard, probably), I thought it might be a good idea to mention this story:

A federal judge ruled Thursday that the government's warrantless wiretapping program is unconstitutional and ordered an immediate halt to it.

Who knows where this will go from here. I haven't the time to comment, but I just wanted to add my bread-crumb to this story's Internet mass.

Link via Maud Newton

LOOKING THE PART

2006-08-16T12:31:00.000-07:00

Over at Professor Barnhardt's Journal is this little gem, called, "The Condensed Guide To Looking Like A Writer".

I don't closely follow the trends amongst writers, writing-students, and writer-wannabes, so the references to "Moleskine" don't really resonate with me.

But I do love pens. Apparently, foutain pens are being used for writing, which sounds like a pain in the inkwell, if you ask me. Still, no matter how terrible the writing, neat penmenship is an achivement in itself. Something to be proud of.

I actually have a favorite type of pen. Not being a writer (even a pretend-writer), I can't speak to the its performance during extended use, but it's good for jotting notes, grocery lists, and the like. The full name of it (according to Amazon.com) is: Pilot(R) Precise(TM) V5 Liquid Ink Rollerball Pen, Extra-Fine Point, 0.5 mm, Black.

Ask for that at your local stationers. They'll probably have them in bales of 100.

Link via Bookslut

"I CONTEMPLATED, 'PEACE OUT, HOMIES'"

2006-08-15T06:05:00.000-07:00

Katie Couric says that viewers want network evening news programs to run for an hour, instead of 30 minutes.

It's been ages since I last saw a network news broadcast, since I tend to work jobs that schedule me for the evening hours. However, I still feel like a typical consumer of news; believe me, I have no trouble hearing what's going on. If I ever feel like I need to check in with the news, there's the Internet, cable TV, and radio news, all running 24 hours a day. Who needs the nightly news?

A long time ago, when switching between the two or three TV stations in your town was a huge pain in the ass, the evening news broadcast made a lot of sense. You would sit through it to get to the good stuff--the other stations were only showing news anyway, why change the channel?

Then again, cable doesn't have 100% market penetration, newspapers require effort to read and dispose of, and sites like abcnews.com can crush a 56k modem flat; so major network news programs have their uses. And, when you compare the saturated nature of the news-junkie to the relative desert inhabited by the average person, it's easy to see how a mere 30 minute broadcast under-serves those average people.

Still, with network news being a ratings loser (at least when compared to entertainment programming), most experts agree that a 60 minute evening news broadcasts are not likely. But, um, Katie, maybe you could do everyone a favor and get your old pals at "The Today Show" to cut that bullshit-deluge down from 180 minutes, okay?

GENDER DIFFERENCES IN COGNITION

2006-08-10T12:51:00.000-07:00

Here's another link from Mind Hacks.

was at a wedding this weekend, and I was getting in one of those conversations that drunk people get into at weddings: what are the gender differences in cognition?

OK, so maybe you don't get into conversations like this with people you don't know well, but I do.

Anyway, it got me thinking that I should post a summary of what is known.

Click here to go to the article. And bookmark Mind Hacks, already.

JAPAN AND DEPRESSION

2006-08-10T12:44:00.000-07:00

Spotted over at the Mind Hacks Blog is a New York Times article from 2004, called "Did Antidepressants Depress Japan?"

In the late 1980's, Eli Lilly decided against selling Prozac in Japan after market research there revealed virtually no demand for antidepressants. Throughout the 90's, when Prozac and other selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors, or S.S.R.I.'s, were traveling the strange road from chemical compound to cultural phenomenon in the West, the drugs and the disease alike remained virtually unknown in Japan.

Then, in 1999, a Japanese company, Meiji Seika Kaisha, began selling the S.S.R.I. Depromel.

KENNEDY AND DR. WHO

2006-08-08T16:06:00.000-07:00

I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say, since Stephan Colbert loaded the phrase "Tip 'o the Hat" with so much unwanted meaning, so make up your own alternative way to express that I'm glad Maud Newton posted this:

A reader passed along the article along with a tantalizing rumor that Kennedy will write an episode for the new Dr. Who.

Though she's a Tom Baker fan (typical; no love for Sylvester McCoy).

To the anonymous leader: Power of Krull? Really?

THE UNWRITTEN RULES OF MCDONALD'S

2006-08-08T10:38:00.000-07:00

Over at the Consumerist, there is a post called "43 Things Not to do at McDonald's. Apparently, as far as the original author of this collection of food-worker pet-peeves is concerned, transgressions of any one of these 43 dictates merits contamination of your food with whatever biological matter is at hand.

Look, I worked in food service for ages, and I had my share of rude customers, but holy crap, we never sat around writing lists. At the end of the day, we just changed out of our workshirts and drank until the pain faded to a dull ache.

Very few people in this country can afford a Household Staff. People's homes are bereft of butlers and maids to order around, to look down on as beastly lower-class thralls, and to occasionally use as pieces of living furniture. Unfortunately, since the desire to do all of those things is a basic, biological need in some people, it has to be satisfied somehow.

These people, mad with the unquenchable desire to order a whipping, have only one available target for slaking their thirst to deliver contempt and humiliation on the vulgar lower classes: the helpless members of the Service Industry.

Which is not to say that this rogue McDonald's employee is entirely justified in her "43 Things..." theses. What's more, I think she plagerized Dane Cook with Thing #12, too.

THE LITTLE THINGS

2006-08-07T21:39:00.000-07:00

As overwhelming as life can be sometimes, the occasional small event can have a big, joy-generating effect. For example, I found something that I've wanted wanted for a long time. It's just a little TV tray, a place to put my iBook that won't immolate my lap, but it's so very nice.

I'm not a believer in retail therapy; spending money just reminds me of what all my problems stem from. But, sometimes, there is a specific product that solves a particular problem. Not a big problem--those get fixed pretty quickly. On the other hand, you can live with the little nagging inconvenience for a very long time.

And then, one day, wandering through a store, waiting for your car's engine to cool down, you see it. Maybe it's a bathroom rug to replace the endless rotation of towel rack, floor, hamper. Maybe it's a soap dispensing sponge on a stick that makes dishwashing a breeze. Or, maybe, it's one of those ribbed, rubberized bits of fabric that makes opening stuck jars a breeze.

Even better, I can eat and watch TV like a civilized human being now!

EVERYTHING ALL OVER AGAIN

2006-08-07T09:51:00.000-07:00

On the way to work this morning, I heard a story on NPR about the music industry cracking down on guitar tablature sites, and it struck me: isn't this old news? (Sort of. It seems the recording industry backed off for awhile, and is now renewing their offensive. Forget MP3's, tablature is what's wrecking the music industry, I guess.)

In the same vein, Slashdot has the story on the multiple birthdays of the World Wide Web.

THE CASUALTIES OF RESDESIGN

2006-08-06T13:11:00.000-07:00

Well, my 19 inch CRT monitor just died. First it began clicking on start up, indicating, like the wheezing of an old man, that it just wasn't going to be able to make it up this particular hill. I've switched back to my old (and I mean really old) 17 inch.

If I had the money, I'd take this as an excuse to upgrade to one of them fancy LCD displays, but since I had a spare sitting around, I think I'll just get used to having less desktop surface area instead. Believe it or not, if this one fails, I've got an old 15 incher that I can use.

I never throw anything away. But I do need to find somebody who will dispose of my broken 19 inch in an environmentally responsible way. So this is still going to cost me.

ANOTHER DAMN REDESIGN

2006-08-06T02:17:00.000-07:00

Yes, I have redone my layout again. There is a good explaination for this, which has been exiled to bs tech; a place I intend to exile all overly technical clap-trap that no one would be interested in.

FEEDING TIME

2006-08-03T13:33:00.000-07:00

I've been spending a lot of time reading productivity and money-saving oriented sites, such as Get Rich Slowly. Being constantly on the edge of total financial collapse has sharpened my interest in these sorts of things.

It all started when I began frequenting those websites that purport to link to the best places to save money on things like computers and televisions. As interesting as they were, I soon realized that my financial problems were not likely to be solved by saving $100 here or there on big ticket items that I don't need, and couldn't afford in any case. What I need was a way to increase the amount of money that I recieve, and to decrease the money I spend.

It sounds obvious, like the classic formula for weight-loss, and yet, it can be so difficult to implement. Short of finishing college, or achieving a certificate in a skilled trade, my income is not likely to rise any time soon. That leaves reducing my expenses.

I have cut out the most obvious things, like buying books, music, fancy dinners, pornography, and alcohol. I'm now working on paying less for the essentials.

I'm having a little trouble with that. Specifically, I'm having trouble with lunch. Although I often go to some pretty cheap places when taking a meal at work ($1.50 gas station hot dogs anyone?) I am certain that home-made sandwiches would be cheaper in the long run.

I'm getting sick of sandwiches.

ONE BOOK

2006-08-02T22:35:00.000-07:00

A meme seen at the Light Reading blog.

One book that changed your life:
Every book that I've read has changed my life, at least a little bit. There are so many answers I could give, but all of them sound terribly cliched to me. But probably the book has had the largest impact on the way I see the world is Paul Fussel's Class. Prior to reading that book, I thought class in America was about money; afterward, I realized that it's actually about lineage and privileged, and a culture that seeks to maintain the distance between the elite and the vulgar masses.

One book that you've read more than once:
I am an inveterate re-reader. My enjoyment of reading far outpaces my ability to acquire material to read, for one. Some books also require re-reading in order to be appreciated. Probably the book that I've enjoyed going over again and again is the book Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman because it such fun.

One book you'd want on a desert island:
I can't even imagine the answer to this question.

One book that made you laugh:
It's hard to find good comic novels anymore, though literary novels can have there moments. But, pound for pound, I've got to admit that Douglas Adams' Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency is pretty damn funny.

One book that made you cry:
I haven't cried since I was a child. But, in those vunerable years, I was made to read Charlotte's Web, Old Yeller, and Where the Red Fern Grows. Yeah. Pick one.

One book that you wish had been written:
I would love to have seen what Douglas Adams would have done with Salmon of Doubt.

One book that you wish had never been written:
I don't know that, for all the damage that some books have done, I would want any of them erased from existence. Still, it would be nice if The Protocols of the Elders of Zion wasn't around.

One book you're currently reading:
Portnoy's Complaint. I was reading that on the train the other day, and somebody gave me a dirty look. And, for the first time, I wasn't sure if it was because of the way that I looked or the book I was reading.

One book you've been meaning to read:
The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.

THIS DAY IS HISTORY

2006-08-02T16:09:00.000-07:00

In honor of Ed Champion's birthday.

1869 George Eliot starts work on Middlemarch:
George Eliot was the pen name of Mary Ann Evans , who was a writer, and an editor of the Westminster Review. The pen name was necessary because she felt that her relationship would have impacted the critical response to her writing (this was during a time when one used a pseudonym for purposes other than concealing one's non-transexual, non-rock star status). Middlemarch is considered to be her greatest literary achivement.

Her long time boyfriend, Lewes, died in 1878, and Eliot went on to marry a man 20 years younger than she, which is also a pretty good achievement, if you're at least 38 years old.

1909 Abraham Lincoln appears on the penny:
Issued to commemorate Lincoln's 100th birthday, this new coin replaced the popular Indian Head penny. Then, as now, the existence of this new Lincoln-ized coin was a point of controversy. Being only a few decades since the"War of Northern Aggression", having to use money bearing the likeness of Ol' Honest Abe rubbed the South in the wrong way, but they managed to deal with it. (Fortunately, pennies weren't worth much back then either.) In fact, a 1909 penny (not counting its value as a collectable), invested in an account that was commensurate with the rate of inflation since then, it would be worth $0.21.(Calculation courtesy of the Inflation Calculator.) So maybe the end of the penny wouldn't be so bad. If its creators could see the people who are rallying to defend it, maybe the penny never would have gotten of the ground in the first place.

1923 Warren G. Harding dies in San Francisco:
Oh Warren G. Harding, you oft cited example of terrible U.S. Presidents. If you could only see us now.

BALLS TO YOU, BIG DADDY; SHE AIN'T NEVER COMING BACK

2006-08-01T23:00:00.000-07:00

In honor of the end of the Number 1 Hit Song era, I thought it would be appropriate to title this post with a Clash quote.

I read blogs for enjoyment. I enjoyed Dana's blog. But I am also happy when somebody has the guts to admit when a part of their lives has become a burden, and further, has the strength to divest themselves of that burden (unless it's a child, or something).

So I'm sad, but I'm happy. Godspeed, Dana.

Link via Ed

GENDER CHAOS

2006-07-27T23:52:00.000-07:00

Chaos Theory is one of the better blogs out there, posting on topics from the comic strip "For Better or for Worse" to celebrity gossip to gender issues. It's one of my daily reads (even if I don't like FBOFW), and gender topics are particularly interesting to me.

So, since I don't have a lot of time here, I'd like to comment on a couple of gender-related posts.

First, this one, which links to an article about a new study. In part, the article says: "Even when they're seated across a table from each other in a first-time, five-minute conversation, a man tends to sexualize a woman and incorrectly assume sexual interest on her part, new research finds."

The Chaos Queen responds: "It's kinda like, why should I be even blandly friendly to someone with a penis if he's just going to decide I want him sexually very badly, regardless of whether or not I show interest? Ugh. Ugh. Ugh."

I've actually dealt with this question in an earlier post. My advice to women? Don't be nice.

Cultivate an air of withering scorn, and wrap it around you like a suit of armor. Seriously. All it takes is the slightest hint of a smile, and before you know it, some dude thinks you're hot for him. Some men will take the fact that you haven't punched them in the throat as evidence that you want to have sex with them. Believe me. I'm a dude after all: I'm a member of the gender that coined the phrase, "That stripper's totally into me!"

Not that every guy is going to sexualize every woman he meets. (I have questions about the methodology of the study, frankly.) But, surely it's acceptable to alienate "innocent" men in the interest of shutting down the super-freaks. At least, I don't see a problem with men walking around in confusion, with hurt feelings, after being treated with the utmost contempt by every woman they meet in a given day. Who cares?

In a related (to my thinking, anyway) post, she quotes this song lyric:

If certain girls don't look at you
It means that they like you a lot
If other girls don't look at you
It just means they're ignoring you
How can you know, how can you know?
Which is which, who's doing what?
I guess that you can ask 'em
Which one are you baby?
Do you like me or are you ignoring me?

The response: "I'm one of the ones that ignores you, or at least won't look at you even if I like you. Wanna know why? It's because I may like you, but I've decided NOT to pursue you. You might be taken, or have an irritating personality trait that I don't want to deal with even if you're hot, or I like being single too much to take on a boyfriend, whatever. Either way, I'm ignoring you because I won't be making a play for you, and whether or not I like you isn't going to matter because I don't plan on trying to boink you. That clear it up any?"

I don't know anything about song-writer Dan Bern's personal life, or the context of the lyrics per se, but this particular verse is the sort of thing that would have resonated with me, back when I was a thirteen year old boy.

How are these two posts related? Well, they both have to do with the way in which men think the women around them perceive them (uh, the men). It doesn't look good for the guys, I'm afraid.

I would like to offer a defense of a very, very small segment of the male community, however. They are men that hold a realistic idea of how they are seen by other people. They know that, unappealing and mis-shapen as they are, there is no hope for them. They do not believe that the woman that's speaking to (or, in the case of the Dan Bern song not looking at) them is the slightest bit interested in them. Before any such thoughts could take root in their brains, they shoot them down with the certain knowledge that, because of their faults, their hideousness, their poor sentence construction, they will never be anyone's object of desire, or even a second glance.

They have "... given up, lonely and overwhelmed by the weight of their own ugliness." Instead, they turn to watching Star Trek, or programming computers, or compiling baseball statistics, or writing Dr. Who fan fiction, or any of a million other hobbies. Yes, some of them become twisted and bitter, but very few of that group go on to become mass-murderers; let the rest of the sorry bastards kill themselves. They are useless to other men as friends, and they are useless to women in all respects; they are the epitome of the un-missable, the un-mournable.

They've got no right to complain. Even in aged isolation, these men are granted titles of at least some little respect: eccentric; weird; long-time bachelor; creepy. Are older, single, childless women held in the same esteem? Not in this society.

I'll say all this because these men won't say it for themselves. No whiney blog posts will ever leave their train-set building fingers. Some men know there place. Even if I don't.

APOLOGIES

2006-07-27T14:14:00.000-07:00

Sorry I haven't been posting much. I thought I was doing better, but between work and other demands on my time, I haven't been able to get to writing anything. We'll try again next week.

BOOKS/TIME = 1

2006-07-18T22:36:00.000-07:00

Recent controversy regarding the ways in which people spend their free time got me thinking: am I reading enough?

Let's set aside the question of, "reading enough for whom, exactly" right now. Let's just agree that there is some inherent amount of reading that a literate, adult, working-class American should be able to maintain, even though he has every right to choose to watch television, or lift weights, or build model airplanes instead. How much reading should I be able to do, given my fairly limited abilities?

I've been pondering a gradual change in my reading habits. Way back when, in my high school days, I would often be reading several books at once. Since I was required to read certain assigned books for school, and since I also read for pleasure, I had to develop this skill (if one could call it that) if I wanted to have fun and pass my classes, or vice versa.

Even up to the point when I dropped out of college, I was still often working my way through two or three books at a time. People would aver that they didn't understand how I could possibly be reading a book for an hour or two, then put it down, then pick up another, and etc. I didn't see a problem, as long as the books were very different.

I developed the habit of checking out several books from the Library at once, reading them all concurrently, and returning them at the same time. Now, I had stopped going to the Library for a few years; but, recently I've renewed my card, and picked up roughly where I left off.

The problem is, however, that I'm finding it a bit difficult to read two or more books at once. During my time exile from the Library stacks, I got swept up in a great book-purchasing dervish. Not having the financial muscle to buy more than one book at a time, I settled into a buy-one-book-read-one-book routine without even knowing it. If I bought another book while I was in the middle of reading one I had acquired earlier, it spelled disaster for that earlier one.

Yes, I'd eventually go back and finish it, as my finances could not hope to match my appetite (I did a lot of re-reading as well); but it would be out of a sense of duty, not curiosity or joy, and I would often have to start over to be able to figure out what was going on.

I know that I've changed. What I'm unsure of is whether or not my multi-book skills have just gotten rusty, or if my brain has softened over the years, thereby causing my current one-book-at-a-time strategy to emerge. Or, maybe, I'm reading these books more deeply than I did in my break neck-paced youth, requiring my full attention be brought to bear on whatever it is I'm reading at the moment? (Since that third possibility is a little too self-serving, I'm willing discount it completely.)

JUSTIN NOT COOL

2006-07-15T22:06:00.000-07:00

The Corsair recently posted a reference to a story about Justin Timberlake admitting to using drugs. (Original story here.)

Ron puts the "revelation" in perspective: "Justin Timberlake's clumsy attempt to craft himself as more prettyboy, more grittyboy are as amusing as they are doomed to abject failure. Nothing about Timberlake, we cannot fail to note, suggests Edge."

True, true. What I wonder, however, is whether or not drug use on anyone's part can be considered Edge. Aren't we over the drug thing yet?

Maybe I've lost my perspective on this, living in California as I do; and having been a reader of books by noted drug aficionados like William Burroughs and Phillip K. Dick; and a listener of songs by--well, everyone who's ever scored a record deal.

Isn't it safe to say that, what with all of the steroid scandals in baseball, the prescription drug scandals of noted squares, and the omnipresent availability of mood-altering substances at any gathering of the general population over a certain size, the frequent trips through the revolving-door of rehab taken by any number of celebrities, that we've gotten a little used to the whole drug thing?

Letting one's drug use slip out during an interview is not the royal road to street cred that it once might have been--in fact, it's an action based on a false premise.

In the 1960's drugs were seen as a tool to unleash the creative powers of the mind, a way of differentiating oneself from the established patterns of parents and authority-figures, and, we mustn't forget, a really good time. In the 1970's they were a way of dulling pervasive feelings alienation and, in the their quality and quantity, as a status symbol. In the 80's they were used as an indicator of urban decay and rising violence.

If there was any time in which one could expect drug use to indicate that somebody was a bad-ass, it would be the 1980's, but that's not quite right either. Drug use in the 80's wasn't credible--it was sick and sad and desperate. The bad-asses were the guys selling the stuff; they were the ones waging war in the American streets.

Was Justin's confession intended to conjure up images of Pookie from New Jack City? Probably not. Was he going for a 1970's drugs-as-glamour thing? Noting that he didn't trot out the old, "Crack is Wack" line, no. Was he after a little of that 1960's space-case, artist-genius elan? Oh hell no. So, what was he going for?

I think he was aiming for the "I'm just plain folks" image. Consider that famous people inhabit a world where they can have anything they want, albeit briefly; for these folks, scoring drugs is a doddle. A lot of them do drugs because they have difficutly regulating their emotions and plenty of access to chemicals that will do it for them. Maybe Justin wanted to project a little, "I'm totally normal by the standards of my environment," action.

Middle-class folks have their drugs too: the daily morning score from Starbuck's on the way to work, the terrible-but-always-brewing office coffee, the evening beer that takes the edge off, the well-dressed winos talking out of their asses in restaurants with decor more creative than the food they serve, and the smokers who can only muster a deep breath when it's through a Marlboro (like me).

Everybody's on something. And that's what makes Justin's sad little normal guy routine so pathetic. He's forgotten what it's like to not be famous, but is trying to convince us that he's like us. Awww.

WHEN WE FAIL

2006-07-12T21:50:00.000-07:00

People's skills are interesting. I remember when I found out that a co-worker of my spoke French -- I thought that was wonderful. Or when you discover that someone you know is a talented mandolin player, or something equally unusual.

Maybe I'm revealing a little too much about myself, and my propensity to pick people apart to find the entertaining bits, but, as much as I find people's talents interesting, I want to know about what they quit doing even more.

I don't mean that in a "before they were famous" celebrity nonsense. I mean, stories about how one of your best friends was a gymnast for 10 years and gave it up and didn't think that story was interesting enough to tell you until one long night, it comes out.

Is it the wasted potential? Is it the thought that, in an alternate universe maybe, you would have wound up friends with a rock star? Maybe. But mostly, I like to hear the story of why they quit. Did they just stop one day? Did it all become too much?

THE QUESTIONS OF OUR AGE

2006-07-11T23:25:00.000-07:00

I've been using public transit for a long time, but there are some things that I'm still trying to figure out. For example, what are the rules of ettiquite where books are concerned? I don't mean the reading of books (which is okay, unless you suffer from motion sickness), but what about when you see someone else reading a book?

If your the naturally curious type (like me) then you, of course, want to know what that person is reading. Maybe I'm taking a poll, trying to get an idea of what "the People" are up to. Maybe I'm looking for ideas for my next book. Maybe I'm just perversly interested, and therefore not exactly "naturally" curious.

I don't stare. I stew. I sit and wonder, and it drives me crazy, but I do-not-look. If the reader is a guy, I might get into a fight. If it's a lady, I might get arrested. I'm pretty sinister looking as it is, and direct looks don't exactly work for me.

Today, stuck underground on a train, the temptation was too much for my weak, sinner's soul. I looked up at the person across from me, and snatched a glimpse of the title of her book. It was... something about vampires.

What a let down.

WHEN BOOK CLUBS ARE JUST TOO MUCH TROUBLE`

2006-07-10T23:33:00.000-07:00

The Rake points to a troubling article:

A successful local author met me for coffee a few years ago. We were talking about book clubs, women's book clubs to be exact, when she leaned toward me and said in a low voice, "Let me let you in on a dirty little secret. They don't read the books."

A group of eight Denver women has licked that problem. They belong to The Magazine Club.

Once a month, they meet in a restaurant. Over drinks, each member brings a magazine she has read and talks about an article in it. "After that we cut out pictures from the magazines and make a diorama," says member Christina Brickley.

[...]

Magazine choices include everything from People to Vanity Fair to the New Yorker. "Always the New Yorker," says Brickley. "The cartoons make excellent wallpaper for the dioramas."

They are career women and moms - which limits their book-reading opportunities. "Those darn books," jokes Brickley. "We all have enough time to read an article. And we get to catch up and have dinner and take turns paying the bill."

The Rake sums up: "If you want to drink, scrapbook, and talk about who Lindsay Lohan is fucking, carry on & wallow away. Just don't insult the rest of us--and Logos itself--with this who-can-find-the-time? horseshit. And this means you, too, gentlemen. We could have a nation full of Proust readers, but instead you've made your choice: jerking off and watching NASCAR."

I agree that the, "I can't find the time," excuse is rather lame; if you don't have time to read, how the hell do you have time to make dioramas?

I think the real reason that many book clubs don't actually read the books they've picked out is because they find them boring; the plea to insufficient free time is just a blind. Let's face it: if you're not a well-respected critic of literature (and, sometimes, even if you are), claiming that a book is dull leaves you open to a whole host of personally insulting rebuttals. You're too stupid to understand it; you're a philistine; you have no attention span; you have the brain of a humming-bird; you're illiterate; you're intellectually lazy; you're B. R. Meyers; and, etc.

Why allow yourself to be subjected to such ridicule? When a reporter from the Denver Post comes snooping around, isn't it just easier for all concerned to say, "Gosh, I was totally going to read A Tale of Two Cities, but I'm just so damn busy, you know?" Of course you are, dude. We understand.

Incidentally, I personally morn the passing of drinking clubs. Am I the only one sick of either drinking with strangers or drinking alone? The bulk liquor discounts don't seem like a bad idea, either.

OH GREAT

2006-07-07T22:44:00.000-07:00

Well, hack week is almost officially over. And, sure enough, I wind up running across a post at Lifehacker that would have been perfect if it had been posted on Monday.

"10 Killer Post Ideas"

Dammit.

NO RESPECT = MEH

2006-07-06T21:40:00.000-07:00

I was intrigued by this post over at Chaos Theory that linked to this post at Brutal Women. Here's part of the quote that CT used:

"I mean, you might as well have kicked him in the balls," Ian said. "When you tell a guy `I don't respect you,' that's the worst possible thing you can say. There's like this hierarchy of things you can do to a guy: kick him in the balls, tell him he has a small penis, and then, worst of all, tell him you don't respect him. It means he's not worth bothering with. Not worth anything at all. It's the worst possible insult."

With all due respect to the people involved, no it's not. Maybe for that particular guy, or even a particular sub-set of guys, but c'mon.

What kind of guy would rate being kicked in the balls and be told that they're not respected in the same top three? My guess is that it's a guy who has a very specific definition of "success"; a definition that, in part, relies on uncontrollable external factors, like what other people think about them.

There are certain jobs that require respect. Professions that rely on skilled experts require that those experts be respected (you can't make much money as a poorly-respected doctor without risking jail time). Positions that require others to trust you need respect. (Who would join a church whose pastor they didn't respect?)

And that's only one kind of respect, the kind that one person shows to another by deferring to their judgment. Of course there are many other types as well; for example, the kind of respect that lauds a person's achievements, the respect for someone who holds steadfastly to their principles, the respect for those who have survived desperate circumstances, and the personal respect for a whole person that we reserve for friends and (sometimes) family.

What all those different kinds of respect have in common (aside from the word itself) is that they must be earned. Nobody owes you any of those kinds of respect, you have to prove yourself worthy. If you aren't an expert, or a trustworthy person, or an achiever, or a martyr, or a survivor, you don't get that respect. Don't like that? Get off your ass and earn it.

(There is one more kind of respect that all of us deserve, at least at first; it comes with the basic dignity of being human. That's not to say a person gets to keep that respect--name your favorite villain from history; some people, human-beings though they are, get their respect-card revoked. Your own moral judgment will tell you who qualifies for that particular demerit.)

Let me tell you another story, one that will hopefully demonstrate why lack of respect doesn't particularly bother me. I can think of no other way to articulate it.

The other day I was at work, waiting for the elevator. I was on the second floor, heading for the first. After a while, the elevator doors opened and, as I usually do, I took note of the passenger, and started towards the open doors.

The woman who was already in the elevator rolled her eyes, said, "Oh, fuck," in a rather irritated way, and jabbed the door-close button. Since I was walking into the right side of the elevator (to avoid the human being occupying the space on the left), this meant that my path was almost immediately obstructed by a slab of metal. I rather clumsily banged my nose into the elevator door, stepped back, and waited a little longer for it to come back and take me down to ground level.

Now, this is an access controlled building--the only people in it either work for, or are guests of, the company. What's more, her irritated manner suggests that she was not acting out of a sense of self-preservation. I have the distinct impression that I was, in some small way, her "the last thing I need today". In those few seconds that we knew each other, I had nothing to offer but an obstruction to her downward momentum.

Not very respectful, is it? But this sort of thing happens to me all of the time. Maybe, if these people were to get to know me, I could have an opportunity to earn their respect via my good works or scintillating conversation, but I look like a trifling man, at first glance.

Maybe it's my height, or my misshapen face, or my jovial layers of fat, but I get shit from people. I have to work to live, and in my case that means having a boss who micro-manages, who explains basic concepts like he's teaching kindergarteners to discern the differences between squares and circles, but who leaves me to guess at arcane, non-standard, possibly unethical business practices.

You know what? If not being respected was two steps down from being kicked in the balls, I'd never leave my house.

BLOG RONDO A LA TURK

2006-07-05T22:49:00.000-07:00

And now, yet another meme: the blog round up. Everybody does one, but this one is special because it's the only one that reveals my shallow understanding of Jazz.

Old Hag news: She will be reading poetry on the Sheila Kast show tomorrow, between 9am and 10am. Check her site for details, tomorrow. And yes, we missed you terribly.

Bookslut has hit its 50th issue. Congratulations... slut. (I'm still ambivilent about the name, but I have no right to talk.)

A hardcore punk band that's fronted by a psychologist? It's true, according to a post on the Mindhacks blog. The question at this point: how do three barre chords played in rapid succession make you feel?

From the fine folks at Lifehacker, a link to a text editing program called Dark Room. Black background. Green text. Full-screen. Monospaced font. Get some writing done without all those toolbar distractions. Just like when you were forced to use WordStar. Dark Room requires MicroSoft's .NET framework version 2.

(Incidentally, if you don't want to install .NET, or if you don't want to get Dark Room, you can kind of fake it by following this simple guide for Windows users: 1. Click Start, then click "Run"; 2. Type "edit", then click "Ok"; 3. Hit alt-enter. 4. Hit alt-o, arrow down to "colors"; 5. Have fun.)

Still missing: Cup of Chica, and TMFTML. Let's hope they've gotten to rich and important to blog.

By the way, I'm well aware that I'm posting this on the 5th, but it's so late I'm going to count this as Thursday's post, because I'm actually writing this from my time machine. WooooOOOOOOoooooo!

THIS DAY IS HISTORY

2006-07-05T08:02:00.000-07:00

In honor of "Hack Week" here at I am Uninformed, I'm rolling out this old chestnut again. Sure, July 4th is rich with historical meaning, but so is the day after...

1880 - George Bernard Shaw quits Edison Telephone:
Activist, playwrite, and former job-holding man worked a series of jobs after moving to London to be with his mother. Famous for such plays as Pygmalion and The Doctor's Dilemma, Shaw was also an art and book critic. He was also a dedicated Socialist, which has clouded his legacy somewhat. But the plays are pretty good.

He was 23 years old when he quit his last "day job" before trying to write full time. It may interest you to know that your humble chronicaler had just moved to his own apartment to get away from his mother, at that age. Unfortunately, he did not go on to fame and fortune as a playwrite (or anything else for that matter). He is also not a Socialist, regardless of what the NSA has written about them in their files.

1946 - Louis Reard introduces the Bikini:
In post-war France, one of the first groups to get back into business were fashion designers. Those heady times led to nearly hysterical celebrations of liberty and freedom; Reard's contribution to this was to invent revealing swimwear, which, incidentally, confirmed the American belief that France was the land from whence all moral decline sprung. (Think: French letters, French postcards, etc.)

Named after a tropical island that was only noteworth due to the fact that it had a nuclear bomb dropped on it, these scanty bits of fabric went almost immediately into service, covering up the naughty bits of European women, even though some countries tried to outlaw them. America responded with a hearty non, however, until the 1960's, when the young ladies of the nation decided it was time to show off their good stuff.

The Bikini also deserves special notice of the fact that it is often capable of turning an R-rating into a PG-13-rating. Viva le France.

BEFORE I FORGET

2006-07-04T20:42:00.000-07:00

Happy birthday, U.S.A.!

Here's the Declaration of Independance!

Here's the Constitution!

Here's a random law that was just passed yesterday!

DO THESE TEN THINGS MAKE ME CRAZY? POSSIBLY

2006-07-04T07:39:00.000-07:00

"List ten pieces of evidence of your own insanity."

1. Once, after I had been awake for 48 hours straight, I thought I heard someone call my name, but it turns out I was alone.

2. I put a book in front of my clock radio. That way, when I'm having trouble sleeping, I won't keep looking at it and calculating to the minute just how much time I have left before I'm supposed to wake up.

3. I am trying to write a regular, monthly webzine all by myself.

4. During the work-week, I work forty hours, commute ten hours, and sleep about 25 hours, all together. Then I decided to take an online college course.

5. I can't tell the difference between "good" coffee and "bad" coffee.

6. I can't tell the difference between "good" beer and "bad" beer.

7. I can't tell the difference between "good" ideas and "bad" ideas.

8. I have watched every episode of Monty Python at least a dozen times.

9. I own a plastic model of a Dalek.

10. I am basing an entire week of posts on memes.

QUIZ DAY

2006-07-03T08:00:00.000-07:00

Let's start of easy; let's make today quiz day.

Your 2006 Summer Anthem Is

Crazy by Gnarls Barkley

"I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that phase
Even your emotions had an echo
In so much space"

What's Your 2006 Summer Anthem?

You Are Likely a Second Born

At your darkest moments, you feel inadequate.
At work and school. you do best when you're evaluating.
When you love someone, you offer them constructive criticism.

In friendship, you tend to give a lot of feedback - positive and negative.
Your ideal careers are: accounting, banking, art, carpentry, decorating, teaching, and writing novels.
You will leave your mark on the world with art and creative projects.

The Birth Order Predictor

You Belong in Amsterdam

A little old fashioned, a little modern - you're the best of both worlds. And so is Amsterdam.
Whether you want to be a squatter graffiti artist or a great novelist, Amsterdam has all that you want in Europe (in one small city).

What European City Do You Belong In?

You're A Passed Out Drunk

Drinking gives you that warm fuzzy feeling, until you're thrown in the back of a police car...

What Kind of Drunk Are You?

Okay, that's enought for now.

A VERY SPECIAL WEEK OF I AM UNINFORMED

2006-07-03T06:00:00.000-07:00

My current job is so physically and mentally taxing that it's left me with very little time to write anything. Not being able to plug into the media with the same intensity as I used to, and being too drained to generate anything original, has left these pages a little on the "rarely-updated" side.

So, here's the plan to drum up some content. A whole week's worth of content, in fact. I'm going to base all of my posts, for the next seven days anyway, on various memes, writing prompts, quizzes, and other pre-packaged malarky. Hey, at least there will be a post every day.

WORDS AND MUSIC... BUT MOSTLY WORDS

2006-07-02T22:39:00.000-07:00

Like many teenagers, I was a budding lyricist. While that fact translated into a series of songs ranging from trite to just plain irritating, it also meant that I spent a lot of time paying far more attention to the lyrics of all of my favorite musicians (in some cases, probably more than some of them did).

I'm better now. But this collection of articles about some of music's best lyricists almost caused a relapse. Almost.

I'm a little disappointed that they didn't have Robyn Hitchcock on their list.

Paint is cracked and dry
The name is now illegible
And everything is lost upon the cracked and misted hull
Beneath a yellow sky
The lovers trip beside a ship
But all I hear when they embrace is just the kiss of skulls

Yip yip yip yip yip.

UGH

2006-06-29T18:04:00.000-07:00

Man, I feel like shit. The meagre resources of my body and brain are
completely gone. Frankly, I'd like nothing better than to lie down and
sleep for a hundred years.

The most appropriate description of my day to day life would best be
described as "unsatisfying". That's okay. I'm a nihilist. But, when
the amount of effort and focused action required of me starts to
increase and when, in order to maintain what limited level of comfort
I have managaged to hold on to, I am called upon to deliever high
quality of service at low, low prices, I must answer the call,
regardless of how defeated and despairing I am.

I'd actually like to be dead for awhile. Not forever (that seems
unnecessarily excessive and dramatic), but, you know, for a year or
to. For tax reasons.

A SCENE FROM THE NEWLY MODEST WIMBLEDON

2006-06-26T21:33:00.000-07:00

("KILLJOY tennis chiefs have outlawed skimpy outfits at this year’s Wimbledon, which starts today.")

Play-by-Play Man (PBPM): Here's the first serve of Wimbledon 2006.

*Thwack*

V.Zvonareva: AAAAGH!

*Thwack*

K.Clijsters: OOOOOH!

PBPM: Oh, nice return.

V.Zvonareva: RRRAAAGH!

*Thwack*

PBPM: I think we can all agree that the new dress code certainly allows us to focus on the game.

K.Clijsters: MMMMRAAA!

*Thwack*

PBPM: Oooh, and Zvonareva found the net with that one.

V.Zvonareva: Mandavoshka!

THIS LOOKS LIKE TROUBLE

2006-06-26T21:30:00.000-07:00

If you're tired of people looking over your shoulder while you work on your laptop, or watch pornography on your iPod, then this is for you. These things defy my limited ability to describe, uh, things.

YOU MAY ALREADY BE AN ASSHOLE

2006-06-25T12:46:00.000-07:00

Columnist Beth Wheeling offers this short quiz, which can tell you whether or not you have OPD. (That's Obnoxious Personality Disorder, by the way.) I'm sure Beth is a skilled writer and everything, but I still find it hard to believe that this particular column was written in exchange for money.

Incidentally, a quiz for people who might be obnoxious is totally unnecessary; most assholes don't care whether or not the are assholes, and those that do will never be convinced that throwing a hot cup of coffee at a barista for inadequate foam height is an unreasonable behavior. They know in their heart of hearts that they are the one rational person left in a world of madness that they really don't have time to deal with.

Link via Fark

INTRACTABLE POV'S

2006-06-20T20:10:00.000-07:00

I am the first to admit that my imagination is fairly limited. For example, nine-dimensional spaces are beyond me; I can't picture what it would be like to be the size of an atom; nor can I even begin to grasp how things like anaerobic glycolisys work. The good news is that those things aren't ever likely to come up in my day to day life -- as far as I know.

Unfortunately, there are things in this world that some of us have to deal with on a regular basis that are mysterious to me. For example, the notion of a man having the upper-hand in a relationship strikes me as bizarre. Maybe that reveals a little too much information about me, but it's my truth. My sad, pathetic, meaningless truth.

What's even more disturbing to me is the idea that some women must completely change who they are in order to find a man to have a relationship, as detailed in this Salon article.

Because, in line with the rest of the shitty dating advice out there, instead of advising women to be true to themselves while making careful choices about the kinds of men who make sense for them, the show urges a handful of women to produce the right cooing sounds and sighs and weak little gestures that will drive all the little warthogs into a blind frenzy of domineering, humpy love.

I don't get it. Why would anybody choose to be in an awful relationship? Why would you change who you are only to be dragged into a destructive spiral of pain and misery? Where does this "somebody, anybody!" desperation come from?

Is it the fear of being alone? Well that's no reason. I mean, I learned at a pretty early age that being alone would be my destiny. The deformed leg, the bad skin, the dandruff, reaching my full adult height of 5' 6" at the ripe old age of 25, and my innate ability to make any woman who ever decided to take a chance on me want to kill themselves -- love's just not in the cards for me.

But I made my piece with that years ago. It wasn't that difficult to do, either. (That's why I have hobbies.) Surely the fear of being alone can't possibly explain why anybody would subject themselves to televised humiliation? Then again, I was an awkward, unpopular teenage boy for a few years; I inhabited a universe of rejection and isolation. Being alone is my ground state.

Maybe there should be a show that teaches women how to be blissfully alone.

LET'S DISH

2006-06-19T21:05:00.000-07:00

This post over at Lifehacker reveals a method to avoid having to ever do dishes. Well that's just great.

I had my own method for those hated dirty dishes. First, live alone. Then, when you finish eating, hit your dishes with a soap stick, put them in a drying rack, then go to work or bed (whichever is time-appropriate).

Failing that, try to develop a mental habit; try to force yourself to become itchy, sweaty, and nervous at the thought of there being a soiled plate in your sink.

BEATEN DOWN

2006-06-15T20:26:00.000-07:00

This new job is a master class in exhaustion. I'm giving up for this week. See you on the weekend.

THE JOB

2006-06-13T22:19:00.000-07:00

I have been placed on yet another short-term contract. While that means having money, for a brief period of time at least, it also means going to where ever it is that I'm needed. Right now, that means I've got a wicked-long commute.

It's like this: It takes me two hours to get to work, and two hours to get back home; I also have to get up an hour before I leave in order to shower, shave, and not eat breakfast. Also, I have an hour of unpaid lunch time that I cannot skip because part of my job involves providing "coverage," which means that if I work through my meal period, I'll still wind up leaving at the same time I was originally scheduled for anyway. So that's 2 + 2 + 1 + 1 + the 8 hours I'm actually scheduled = 14 hours.

Summary: It costs me 14 hours to work an 8 hour day.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I need the money too much to complain, and the work itself is only difficult because I am an over-fed, out of shape, lazy lower-middle-class, middle-aged baby. I only feel compelled to think about all of this because I am an hourly worker, so every hour I spend is easily quantifiable in terms of my going rate. I already knew what I'm getting paid for an 8 hour day; it's not bad -- not great, but not bad. Factoring in all of the other hours I have to devote to making sure that I'm able to actually be effective during my 8 scheduled hours, however, can help determine whether or not this contract is the best one for me to be on for the moment.

Take for example a previous job that I had: one hour commute to work + one hour commute home + 30 minutes for lunch + one hour to get ready for work + an eight hour shift (1 + 1 + 0.5 + 1 + 8) = 11.5 hours.

Let's say that Job1 (the 14 hour one) pays $10/hour (just to keep the numbers simple); since I only get paid for eight of those 14 hours, that's a total of $80. Divide that across the full 14 hours though, and it comes out to $5.71/hour.

Do the Same calculation for the 11.5 hour job (Job2), and it comes out to $6.96/hour. In fact, if someone offered me $10.00/hour for Job1 and $8.25/hour for Job2, I'd be better off going for the latter.

Of course, it's never that simple; I'm not an economist, accountant, or even skilled with math, and there are other, intangible factors to take into account when selecting a job as well. Even when it's all about money, it's not all about money.

I'M OUT

2006-06-09T07:10:00.000-07:00

I've got a lot to do today, so I'll be hitting the road in a few minutes. See you next week.

THE RETURN OF THE BLOG RONDO A LA TURK

2006-06-08T08:39:00.000-07:00

The Big News: Old Hag has, after a much personal turmoil, returned to her digs. Thank god (no offence to Liam).

Still missing: Cup of Chica.

The new issue of Bookslut Magazine was posted a few days ago; usually good, but this month, they've got an interview with Charles de Lint. Sadly, it offers no clarification on de Lint's somewhat confounding monthly column in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. (incidentally F&SF, if you need anyone to redesign your site, let me know. I come pretty cheap. Will work for subscriptions.)

Whatevs? Posting daily again. Best. Again.

Anyway, back to the job search. Enjoy the web, everybody.

IN DEFENSE OF ARCHAISM

2006-06-07T06:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's Cat and Girl comic seems to bring to a close their look at obsolete technology and nostalgia. Conclusions? As technology marches forward, and the limitations and inconveniences of the old stuff is worn away, we begin to conflate those inconveniences with our nostalgic view of the eras in which they originally existed. We know, for example, that the 1980's, with all it's Cold War anxieties, will eventually end in the go-go 90's, the fall of the Berlin Wall, and a booming economy under a popular president. If given a chance, I think a lot of people would be willing to go back to the 1980's -- as long as they got to remember everything that was going to happen. Because that's preferable than not knowing where the 00's are going, maybe.

With every new technological advance there are inevitably those who aren't completely willing to buy into the Brand New Thing.

Take digital photography; a lot of people thought that the first digital cameras were the greatest things since sliced bread. They were half right. The idea is fantastic -- but the first generation cameras were terrible. So it was all that unreasonable to suggest that popping your film into an envelop at the drug store and waiting a few days was still a valid way of getting your photos, because you got better looking photos in the end. Then the digital technology got better, and printers came out that could give you real photos, and the argument swung the other way, until people started complaining about losing their family photos when their hard drives crashed, and etc.

The arguments themselves don't matter. Whenever a new way to do something comes along there will always be proponents and detractors -- that never changes. The interesting this is that the detractors are often accused of living in the past, of being besotted by nostalgia, of fearing change and New Things. The implication of these accusations is that if you don't like iPods or fancy cell phones, then you must also not be in favor of chemotherapy or the Salk vaccine. Even though such an assertion doesn't necessarily follow.

Just because one expresses a preference for an older bit of technology doesn't really imply anything, other than that one particular preference. As one of those Cat and Girl comics pointed out, the option to not have to use these convenient new products can be a luxury. It might not seem that way for all of our examples right now, like with digital photography. In order to take advantage of that you need a good camera (expensive), a computer (expensive) and a photo printer (also expensive), whereas you can still get a 35mm film camera for twenty bucks and spend a little more for processing, and boom, you've got pictures.

But wait; you can bring in your (admittedly expensive) digital camera to just about any retail outlet and get them to print your photos for you. Therefore, you don't need a computer or a printer. What's more, computers and photo printers are getting cheaper, and some of those printers don't need a computer at all. So, while predicting the future is a sport for fools, we can be pretty confident in predicting that digital photography is going to get cheaper and more convenient. And when that happens, and 35mm film processing is no longer offered, you'll need to develop your own film if you stick by your trusty old technologies. You'll need photographic paper, chemicals, a dark room, training, and etc... and how much is all of that going to cost? What's more, it doesn't sound very convenient either.

That's not to say that it's not worth doing things the old way. And it's not a denial of the wonders of the modern age to say that it's sometimes more fun to ride a bicycle than drive a car. Sure, you'd probably want to wait until the weather is nice, and you might do it on your day off because you can't possibly bike the 50 or so miles to work, but it's a luxury option that most people can afford.

Take for example, the re-emergence of typewriters. Again, the actual arguments for and against their use don't matter; typewriters are relatively cheap, and scanners or scanning services are cheap, so if that's the way you want to do it, why not? It's not like you're going around trying to give people polio out of some nostalgia-induced madness.

The key thing in all of this is to keep your perspective. You know what's really best for you, but don't deprive yourself of the fun that can be had by doing things the old fashioned way. On the other hand, if some convenient little bit of technology gives you more free time than the older version would have allowed you, and costs less doing it, consider using the new thing instead. We live in the future. You have that luxury.

IT'S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE THIS GETS TELEVISED

2006-06-06T05:51:00.000-07:00

Do you think that there's too many awards? Get ready to groan; PastryScoop.com has just announced the winners of their "Golden Scoop" awards, which "celebrate and recognize innovation and creativity in the pastry arts."

I'm all for excellence in the pastry arts (as anyone who's seen me waddle past them will already know), but wow -- this really has nothing to do with my life. I'm happy mowing down Twinkies and Zingers; what's more, they're the only dessert confections I can really afford. (Well, I can't afford them any more, but you get the idea.) The goings-on in some fancy-pants restaurant couldn't be more removed from my existence if I were living on the Sun.

So enjoy your high-priced, virtuoso-created desserts, you bastards. I'll still continue to laugh whenever Food Network shows your sugary sculptures smash into a million sweet little pieces.

I DON'T CARE WHAT DAY IT IS

2006-06-06T05:34:00.000-07:00

After spending much of last week cleaning the house and re-arranging things, I'm starting to get a little homesick. Some part of my brain refuses to accept the fact that I now live in a "tidy" home, and therefore, I must be in somebody elses house. Still, I'm trying to keep up the new neatness; some say that a clean and well-order home leads to a clean and well-ordered mind. Well, I'll see about that.

It's moments like these that one realizes that one has far too much stuff. Everything that I can see has an imaginary price tag on it, indicating just how much cash I've wasted over the years. I'm just about ready to sell or give away every book I own.

Still waiting to hear back about the last couple of interviews. Lord help me, I need a job.

BACK UP

2006-06-05T14:19:00.000-07:00

Ok, we're back up. I'll try to think of something to actually post tomorrow.

TV IN JAPAN

2006-06-05T08:33:00.000-07:00

Whenever I travel, I tend to stick pretty close to the hotel; in fact, I usually hole up in my room and watch a lot of television until it's time for me to do whatever it is I've come to that town to do.

With most parts of the United States looking like the other parts of it, one needs to put a little effort into developing a real sense of "travel shock". I find that watching the local TV news helps.

I've never been to another country, so I've never experienced the television products of other lands. Fortunately, there's a blog out there which will enable you to see Japanese television from the comfort of your own computer.

Link via The Morning News

DID I MENTION THIS YET?

2006-06-04T22:58:00.000-07:00

I actually did manage to post the May issue of Sloganeering. Also, I've redesigned the Sloganeering.Org items at the Cafe Press store. No big deal, but the coffee cup looks pretty good.

MURKETING

2006-06-02T20:19:00.000-07:00

If, like me, you recieved the latest issue of the Murketing newsletter by Rob Walker, then you also know that it's over; he does have a blog (which I didn't know about), and here it is.

Thanks to TMFTML for pointing his readers to the original Murketing newsletter, all those years ago.

THIS SITE, GRAPHIC

2006-06-02T09:31:00.000-07:00

Just a quick little update (had this thing queued up since I saw this post at Ed's place). To make your own, go here.

NEAT FREAK-OUT

2006-06-02T07:42:00.000-07:00

Sorry about missing yesterday's post; I've been cleaning. And cleaning, and cleaning, and cleaning, and cleaning. Somebody's coming by to look at the house... it's complicated, I can't get into it right now.

The other really fun thing is that I've got another interview today, this time with a different company; hopefully, I'll get this one. (I still haven't heard back on the last one, but there you go.)

Busy. Very busy. See you next week.

ON SILENCE

2006-05-31T20:28:00.000-07:00

Sorry there haven't been any postings today. Blogger was having some issues. (Honest!) Although, I must admit that I was only going to log in and post out of a sense of resigned obligation--but there we are.

More tomorrow.

AND, WE'RE BACK

2006-05-30T12:44:00.000-07:00

Ok, interview over. It went okay, I suppose, but then I won't really know until I here back. At least my questioner was a nice guy.

I do not like a short interview, because it usually means that I blew it pretty early. Or, they already know who they're going to hire, but want to actually look at everybody, just to make sure their physical appearance meets a certain standard.

Anyway, it's not up to me any more. We'll see what happens.

BUSY BEGGING

2006-05-30T06:03:00.000-07:00

I might not be able to post anything (well, other than this...) today, as I have a job interview. And Lord, I really need this. I need this job so bad.

I've never actually begged for donations before. Sure, I've come pretty close. But with the word "foreclosure" being banded about by the folks leaving messages every couple of hours on my answering machine, I'm starting to reconsider.

Please consider tossing us a buck or two; at the very least, it'll help us continue our search for work by defraying the expense for gas and tolls. I promise to account for every penny of how we use the funds on this very page. (Sorry, I can't draw.)

Happy Ted McGinley's birthday.

I AM A NERD

2006-05-29T11:06:00.000-07:00

Doctor Who gives some popular songs the ol' William Shatner treatment, thanks to the Tom Baker voice synthesizer. I've got to say, Pulp's "Common People" sounds pretty close to the original when spoken/sung by an artificial Tom Baker computer voice.

YOU OK TO DRIVE?

2006-05-29T09:02:00.000-07:00

How do you know when you've gotten enough sleep? "As long as you're not a zombie the next day, you're probably sleeping enough, says Dr Stanley," in this article. Sounds weird, right? Don't you need eight hours? Well...

[...] a new, contrarian school of thought is emerging. The eight-hours mantra has no more scientific basis than the tooth fairy, says Neil Stanley, head of sleep research at the Human Psychopharmacology Research Unit at the University of Surrey in Britain. He believes that everyone has their own individual sleep need? which can be anywhere between three and 11 hours. ?If you'?re a three-hour-a-night person, you need three; if you're 11, you need 11.? To find out, he says, simply sleep until you wake naturally, without the aid of an alarm clock. Feel rested? That's your sleep need.

Being unemployed has given me the chance to sleep and wake when I feel like it. Let me tell you though, that's no way to live.

One day I woke up at 5am. Then I stayed up until 3am the next day and slept until 6:30pm. I don't have a sleep pattern; that is, the times in which I feel drowsy or alert aren't conforming to a regular schedule. Good luck finding a job that would allow for that kind of nonsense.

What's more is that, although I generally feel well rested, I certainly don't feel more productive. I feel disoriented. Waking up and having no earthly idea what time it is, losing track of the regular habits, I'm finding it difficult to concentrate on things.

At this point I have no idea how to get on a regular schedule. Oh boy.

INDONESIA

2006-05-29T00:09:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, there's been a massive earthquake in Indonesia this weekend. I'm not sure where to suggest sending donations, but the Red Cross website seems like a good place to start.

IT'S FRIDAY AND NOBODY'S READING THIS

2006-05-26T13:18:00.000-07:00

It seems like a funny thing to say, but here it goes: I've attended classes that tried to teach "creativity". Weird, huh? A lot of artists will tell you that creativity is something you either have or you don't, that the function of art courses is to find people with talent and help them to develop, and to convince people that don't have it to stop wasting their time. (Funny that it's usually established artists who say things like that, but nevermind.)

This is ground that's been gone over a million times, so there really isn't much I can add to the discussion. For what it's worth, I think that "being creative" is a sensibility, a willingness to suspend your own disbelief in yourself; pick a medium, treat every experience as an idea, or jumping off point, and try never to think to yourself, "This is a stupid idea," until you've lived with that idea for a while. But I've only ever sold one piece of my creative output, so try to forget everything I've just said.

Here's the thing that I think they should really spend more time on in all of those "creative" or "art" courses: how not to be distracted. Holy crap, man, it's taken me like three days for me to write this damn post; it's just too easy to watch Matlock reruns instead of writing.

My brain is sort of an uncomfortable place to spend a lot of time in. Easier instead to read, or to listen to music, or watch a movie, or play a game. Turn all of that stuff off and what's left are the dark, echo-y halls in my head, full of places for monsters to hide. Here I am trying to think of a blog post, but instead I get images from that time I fell through the ice of a pond and almost drowned. Or a particularly cutting remark from a stranger that I thought didn't bother me leaps out.

Unfortunately, I think what those aforementioned artists thought about creativity might be true of focus and paying attention to things. That is, maybe it's a skill that can't be cultivated, maybe it's something in your DNA.

That'd be just my luck.

THE SHIRT THAT MADE MICHAEL SCHAUB SAD

2006-05-26T09:43:00.000-07:00

The inimitable Michael Schaub (over at the Bookslut Blog) points everyone to this Annie Reid post at Maud Newton's blog. It involves three t-shirts, one of which is, indeed, very sad. To see the other two, just click on one of the orignal posts. I'm sick of linking things.

SMURF THIS

2006-05-25T09:06:00.000-07:00

From the other side of the smurf'o'sphere comes this funny little piece, in which they ponder what happened to the Smurfs (after graduation, uh, I guess). They imply that Smurfette contracted herpes.

It reminds me of the spirited defense of Smurfette we published last month. Ever wonder why there was only one girl-smurf? That link will tell you.

Hatch Magazine link via Chaos Theory

HOW PEOPLE WRITE

2006-05-24T11:56:00.000-07:00

Some people have gotten sick of writing on computers and are switching back to typewriters. Some people like their computers just fine. And some people use novel-writing software to help them write novels. Enter the yWriter. According to the post on Lifehacker that pointed me to this thing, "Freeware program yWriter helps you plan out and organize your next great novel, breaking the necessary structuring of a story into small, manageable tasks."

I'll give the program a try, but I have the sneaking suspicion that the reason I haven't ever finished writing a novel (or sold a short story) is because I have no damn talent.

SCIENCE!

2006-05-24T09:55:00.000-07:00

According to this article Illinois kids don't know much about basic science.

About 70 percent of Illinois 4th and 8th graders lack basic knowledge in the earth, physical and life sciences, a worse performance than that of five years ago and one that trails the national average, according to test results released today.

Across the country, 68 percent of 4th and 8thgraders failed to pass the 2005 National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) Science exam.

I wasn't able to find an online version of the National Assessment of Educational Progress Science exam (for obvious reasons), but I did find this Blogthings quiz that asks: Could You Pass 8th Grade Science?

Yes, you probably can.

$100 DOLLAR LAPTOP

2006-05-24T06:56:00.000-07:00

Over the past year (or has it been two?) MIT has been working on the $100 laptop inititive. Slashdot has links to some pictures of working models. What's more is that you can pledge to buy a $100 laptop for $300 (the extra 200 bucks go to the purchase of 2 additional laptops for children).

DA VINCI MAKES MONEY

2006-05-22T02:14:00.000-07:00

Well, it seems that The Da Vinci Code movie managed to rake in some cash, in spite of the protests , boycotts, and reviews.

I won't be seeing this movie. Now, I've been accused of not being interested in The Da Vinci Code, in both its novel and movie forms, for lots of reasons; but honestly, I'm not interested for very simple and non-sinister reasons.

First, Holy Blood, Holy Grail came out in 1983, and ever since then, my crazy uncle refuses to shut up about it. I'm so inured to the whole "Jesus got married and had a kid" thing that I need something more to attract me to the book. Second, I didn't enjoy Digital Fortress. Third, after reading Foucault's Pendulum and the Illuminatus! Trilogy, I've sort of lost my taste for secret-society-based thrillers.

Sorry. Enjoy your movie.

EL SCORTCHO

2006-05-21T06:26:00.000-07:00

I've spent the past week going to bed at 5am, and waking up at 4pm. Unemployment's a bitch. When you search for work on the Internet, you can kind of get away with that sort of thing. But not for long.

This weekend, I am resolved to adjust my sleep schedule to something a bit more mainstream. That means either sleeping or staying awake for nearly 24 hours. The sleeping in thing isn't working. Now it's time to try the other thing.

In the past five hours I've written two essays and a blog post for GameJerk. I can hear all the college students out there laughing at me. Give me a break, I'm out of practice.

So tired. Hopefully, I'll see you all again on Monday.

HEY!

2006-05-19T01:36:00.000-07:00

What the hell is this?

But Hilton is not a thinking person. Or, if she is, she hasn't let on. For the purposes of the American public, she is chief Stupid Girl, unembarrassed to admit that she doesn't know what Wal-Mart is, to testify that she isn't aware that London is in the United Kingdom, or to get the name of her own video game wrong; Hilton is so vacant that her behavior recently inspired a new Page Six epithet: "celebutard."

I didn't come up with any pithy nom for dumb celebs, but I'm pretty sure I spotted this trend three years ago.

link via Chaos Theory

TINY HOUSE

2006-05-18T05:20:00.000-07:00

Little house on the... well, where ever you decide to tow it, I guess.

Stretching his arms wide, Johnson can almost touch both sides of his home.

This NPR story talks about the newest housing concept to sweep the nation: Tiny homes! A human-being's life crammed into seventy square-feet!

Claustrophile that I am, I don't think I'd mind living in something like this, though it would be hard to explain to any prospective dates, I think. "Well, we're here. Would you like to sit inside or on the porch? I mean, we couldn't both sit in the house at the same time--we could take turns, if you like."

If this small living thing catches on, maybe I'll actually get some hits on Expedia for "capsule hotels" for a change.

NEGLECTED GEM

2006-05-18T03:52:00.000-07:00

I recently listened to an interview with the great Mike Nelson, which was part of the Jack Mangan's Deadpan podcast. In it, he described the tragically common writers' complaint: you get signed on by an editor who "gets" you, then, one book into your three book deal, that editor moves on and, sadly, the new guy thinks you suck. As a result, Nelson's Death Rat was released with all the fanfare that's usually accorded to a grudging contractual obligation.

That's a shame, because Death Rat is actually pretty good. It's not a highly literary work, nor is it a thinly disguised memoir-as-novel. No, this is a funny novel.

It is traditional at times like these to mention just how rare it is to find a good comic novel. Especially comic novels written by Americans. I don't want to get into that. I will mention, however, that some comic novels don't really work as novels. They fail to exhibit the appropriate amount of novel-ness. Other so-called "comic" novels fail to deliver humorous things that would be worth laughing about.

Death Rat, in my non-professional opinion, doesn't make either of those common mistakes. It's funny. It's an interesting story. It's not Balzac or Aristophanes, but you'll enjoy reading it on the beach. It's worth picking up.

link via MST3K.com

META: COMMENTS

2006-05-17T21:31:00.000-07:00

I think I've got the Blogger-brand comment system working here; this post is just to test the darn things.

While I'm about the business of opening myself up for even more ridicule than I normally receive (not to mention the porn-spam currently being filtered out by my contact address), now might be a good time to devote a few words to the topic. And, since I am essentially blogging about blogging here, you may safely ignore whatever 1999-era thoughts I may have on the subject.

Wait, don't ignore this part. I really appreciate the good work of the people of Haloscan; they are fantastic, and I wish them well. But, if I'm going to have comments here, then I would like to have a bit more control of them. Unfortunately, I don't have the income to pay for the Haloscan service, so I'm giving the default comment scheme a try.

Anyway; some bloggers have opined on the freedom that not having comments provides. Others have said that blogs should not be one-way avenues of communication. I don't know. It doesn't bother me that I don't often get comments, because I know that people have better things to do, and that anger is more likely to precipitate a response than agreement. What's more, people are more likely to respond to blog postings with yet more blog postings, which makes the 'sphere go round. Besides, if somebody responds with a comment, only regular readers of the offending blog would read the response, where as a blog-based response would be displayed to a (perhaps) different audience.

I prefer to leave my readers (or reader) the option; the first of which, of course, is not to respond at all.

LIVING LIKE I'M PRE-DEAD

2006-05-16T23:22:00.000-07:00

Dig this:

"New federal guidelines ask all females capable of conceiving a baby to treat themselves [...] as pre-pregnant, regardless of whether they plan to get pregnant anytime soon." -Washington Post

A collection of other bloggers' reactions can be found here.

I think it's rather bold of the government to publish health guidelines for woman that are more concerned with the safety of hypothetical babies than for the actual women who currently exist. Also, there's a certain amount of irony in the notion that healthy unplanned pregnancies are a good reason for women to stop drinking, toto, rather than making any effort to prevent unplanned pregnancies altogether.

When there are presently-pregnant woman out there using meth and post-pregnant ladies who are driving around with babies in their laps, focusing on getting women who have no intention of having babies to go to the doctor more regularly seems to miss the point.

But, by far, the absolute worst thing about these new guidelines are how sexist they are. Shouldn't men be required to take certain steps in case they find themselves involved in an unplanned pregnancy? Shouldn't we Y-chromosome-carriers be asked take demeaning, dehumanizing precautions?

For example: In spite of the fact that no woman on the planet would ever let me get within two feet of her vagina, let alone impregnate her, shouldn't I be saving up money for my hypothetical offspring's college fund? Shouldn't I move to Canada in order to make sure that he or she will have adequate medical coverage? When I go out with the fellas, should I leave one of them behind, telling him, "No man, there's no more room. That empty baby-seat is for the maybe-baby." Or, when I'm drinking alone in the darkness of my house, cleaning my gun and listening to Hank Williams albums, maybe I should stick with tequila, or should I switch to whiskey?

KINKY GENDER

2006-05-16T00:31:00.000-07:00

You know it's a sweeps period (usually) by the proliferation of shows with the word "Sex" in the title, and advertisements claiming that certain upcoming episodes of certain series will be sexier than ever. No big deal, I suppose.

Even PBS got in on the magic. Suggestible thrall that I am, I actually sat around for the first two episodes of the BBC special, Secrets of the Sexes. Turns out that, in spite of what my father says, I have a mostly male brain.

Episode two was about Attraction. Turns out that first impressions and basic biological queues are far more important with regard to attracting a mate than being a good person or being a Pentecostal or any other factors.

This wasn't a huge surprise to me, because I saw Desmond Morris's The Human Animal a couple of years ago. I remember it because that was right around the time I gave up on the idea of romantic bliss.

I have no intention of ever publishing a photo of myself, but if you really want to know what I look like, simply catalog all of the universal criteria for biological attraction (being tall, having clear skin, having a high shoulder-to-hip ratio, having a nice smile, and basic bilateral symmetry), and reverse them. I am a perfect physical example of unattractiveness. If you were going to create a continuum of desirability, I would be the example you would use for zero.

This fits right in with my theory that for many people, existence is purposeless. Now, I can't speak for anybody else or their fragile egos; maybe there are a few people on this Earth who were put here for a reason, to do something important, even if that reason is simply to propagate and guarantee the continued existence of the human race.

On the other hand, I'm pretty sure that most of us aren't here to serve any particular purpose. It's really a very liberating notion: regardless of how banal and meaningless your day to day life is, and regardless of how that might make you think that you are wasting your potential and missing out on your special purpose, the odds are pretty good that you are wrong. So, when you get home from work, eat a microwave bagel-dog, and fall asleep on the couch with the TV on, you aren't digressing from your life's special mission. You are therefore free to play video games and drink beer. What else are you going to do with your life?

That's why, when people try to hold my singleness against me, I feel perfectly justified in not being ashamed. Why go to the expense of having a relationship when the genetic deck is stacked against me anyway? That's money I could be spending on booze.

META: LAYOUT

2006-05-15T17:48:00.000-07:00

Made some minor changes to the layout today. The right hand side is now solely devoted to eking out what little revenue I can from this site (except for the blogroll/rss/bloglines/kinja links), and the left hand side is for links to other sites and my own archives. When I was messing around with the template this weekend, I lost my haloscan comments, and today I tried to make the blogger comments work. It didn't go so well. But, since I get very few comments anyway, I'm not too concerned. I may still try to get them back, if I have time.

YOURSELF AND YOU

2006-05-12T15:55:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but I don't know much about me. I mean, I know what people tell me they know about me, but I don't really know for certain

One thing I am pretty sure about is that when I haven't gotten much sleep I tend to be very pessimistic. Or realistic. Which might work out to be the same thing, you know?

See you next week.

AND WHILE I'M IN A PISSY MOOD...

2006-05-11T10:58:00.000-07:00

I noticed this post over ad Ed's place, regarding the recent Goldberg/Clackson drama, in which an established writer received an unsolicited email from an as-yet-unpublished writer, leading to a suggestion from the established fellow that the aspirant remove his chapters. There have been various reactions, many of which take Goldberg to task for suggesting that the Clackson method of achieving literary success is flawed, and that he should remove his chapters from the Internet.

I'm of two minds on this. While, on the one hand, Goldberg is correct in stating that it is very rare for a blog to lead to a book-deal; but on the other hand, it's also rare for a writer without any connections at all to get a book deal. Sure, not as rare as the blog-to-book method, but even those who play by the old, established rules (you know, spend your parents' money to go to school for half a dozen years, make nice with the leader of your writer's workshop so that he or she will introduce your work around, fail, get a day job, get tired of that and go to graduate school) find it difficult to get published.

On the other hand, as I've mentioned in this space before, one of the unfortunate and inevitable facts of Art is that no matter how hard you try, or how earnest your efforts, you are going to be shit on. So, I guess what I'm saying is that Goldberg's relatively restrained suggestion that maybe Clackson should pull his pages shouldn't even be a pin-prick compared to the kind of things that one hears in response to one's work.

Let me share with you a few "criticisms" I've received over the years:
"You should consider returning to school."
"You are probably a great reader of books; you certainly are not a writer of them."
"Consider exploring your other talents."
"Some voices are not really meant to be given expression."
"Further unsolicited messages to this address will be deleted without being read."
"We suggest that you focus on discovering new and exciting ways to fornicate with yourself."
"You are not, and will never be a writer."

Has any of this stopped me? No. (Unsuprisingly, I remain unpublished.)

So you see why I can't take a side on this. I'm blinded by being able to see both sides. It makes sense that a successful writer would have every reason to discourage the aspiring writers that perpetually clog up the system; it also makes sense to me that unpublished writers would want to explore every possible avenue to get their work out there. I don't know.

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

2006-05-11T10:16:00.000-07:00

Or: To the unbelievable bastards who designed the parking system at the Concord and Walnut Creek BART stations.

I find it interesting that you felt that it would be beneficial to BART customers, and by extension the public at large, to make it nearly impossible to park at either of the aforementioned stations. Today is one of many days in which I was unable to find a place to put my car so I could go into work. Thanks for that.

And when I say that there was not a single available parking space, I mean of course that there were loads of parking spaces that were open, but were either reserved for permit-holders, car-poolers (with paid-for permits), and various police and other such generically off limits classifications.

I am a freelance contractor. (Not by choice, but nobody permanently hires people that do what I do anymore.) Occasionally, I find that I have to go to San Francisco. Whenever that happens, I try to use BART because, even though it takes longer for me to get into the city, I feel that it's important to support public transportation whenever possible. Also, it actually saves me money (which is also very important).

What this all boils down to is that I am what would best be described as an occasional rider. Now, I know that means you don't give a damn about me, which is fine. But your plan for occasional users of the BART system to spend an hour (a goddamn hour) driving around the various parking lots looking for a parking spot that wouldn't cost me $25 in parking fines to use. Then, having missed my meeting (which after a phone call had been rescheduled for tomorrow), I turned around and went home. Your brilliant plan to save the environment by wasting my time and gas is unorthodox to say the least, but I trust your judgment... I guess.

Still, it's a bit hard to swallow. I can take any amount of slights to my dignity, honor, good name, and general hygiene; but this parking crap is playing havoc on my livelihood. You are fucking up my money, you sons-of-bitches.

NEW AT GAMEJERK

2006-05-10T20:37:00.000-07:00

What makes a person a hardcore gamer?

Also, Gamejerk merchandise now on sale.

BACK AND GONE

2006-05-08T21:05:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm sorry that I've slacked off with the posting, but I've been busy. Busy but dull. Consequently, I will try to be back tomorrow.

DON'T YOU KNOW THAT SPACE IS THE PLACE?

2006-05-05T02:27:00.000-07:00

So, Lifehacker is having a contest to determine which of their readers has the coolest workspace. They're down to six finalists; vote here.

Honestly, this whole thing confuses me. I just can't relate these pristine workspaces to my own life. They're so clean and tidy. My desk is a great big mess; and that's not all. These work environments seem to be well thought-out. The neatness and obvious designed-ness implies that their creators have some control over their own work situations. That's not a concept I find easy to understand.

I've had the same computer desk for the past ten years, because I couldn't afford to buy a new one. The room that it's in is the only one that it could be in. Its position is the only position that it could fill within this room. Like most other things in my life, my "workspace" reeks of inevitability.

It's hard for me not to think that my inability to master my own living space (which I am perpetually in danger of losing) is a symptom of my general failure as a human being; as such, it's yet another sign of my growing alienation from ordinary experience.

At this point, I can't even imagine what my ideal workspace would look like. It's like trying to imagine what the inside of an atom looks like (a meaningless concept, given the nature of visible light and sub-atomic particles). In a way, the thing that bothers me most about this "perfect workspace" issue is that I believe my ideal set up would tell me a lot about myself--things I might need to know.

NO SLEEP

2006-05-01T12:48:00.000-07:00

I've always had a touch of insomnia. But, over the past few months it's gotten worse. This happens every few years, where I wind up going months on 2 or 3 hours of sleep, and it's not pleasant. Not for me or anyone around me.

I'm not sure what's worse, the physical or mental effects. As bad as it is to not be able to master my own thoughts, how does insanity compare with things like constant sweating and an irritable bowel? In my current state, I can't even begin to quantify things like that. When I'm well rested, I just don't want to think about it at all.

I also wonder how many, or the severity of, these symptoms is a result of the interaction of chemicals I tend to imbibe to control my bouts of inappropriate sleepy-ness. Coffee and cola are constant companions, things I'm sure that I would find it difficult to live without... but maybe it's time to consider it. My personality, when I've gotten enough sleep, rare as that may be, tends towards hyperactivity; stimulants would seem to be inadvisable. Yet, when wracked by insomnia, the only thing I can do to avoid the dreaded "keyboard face" is try to prop up an overworked nervous system with whatever is handy.

Something has to change.

NO PROGRAM

2006-04-29T06:52:00.000-07:00

A person with the improbable name of "hogghogg" poses the question: Do kids write programs anymore? Um... I don't know.

I know that I used to. My first computer was a Commodore 64. My dad bought it, set it up in the den, played with it for a few days, and then proceeded to almost completely ignore it. He seemed to think that he could use the thing for productivity software, to somehow help him work or something, but he never followed through. We never even had a printer for it. It sat around collecting dust.

That is, until one fateful Saturday morning. I was an early riser back then, often the first one awake in my house. I valued this rare time alone; I wasn't about to risk waking anybody up by watching television (which would eventually be commandeered by my dad to watch golf, anyway). So I found myself in the den with the Commodore and the manual, entertaining myself.

Things were different back then. Like most families, we didn't have cable television. And we only had two TV's, one in the living room, and one in the den for the computer (which didn't have an antenna). We didn't have a disk drive or cartridge games (at least, not until later). But, I didn't learn BASIC just because it was the only thing for me to do at 5 AM on a Saturday morning. The Commodore itself helped with that.

By default, the Commodore didn't have an operating system, as such. There was DOS, if you had the disk drive, but otherwise, you controlled the thing with small BASIC programs. In order to make it do something really interesting, you had to write long programs. You entered them into memory line by line and executed them by typing RUN when you were finished. If you got the dreaded ?SYNTAX ERROR statement, you cleared the memory and started over.

Even if they worked, without any storage media, you lost any progress you made when you turned off the machine. If you wanted to watch the bouncing ball or play "Michael Row Your Boat Ashore" again, you had to type the whole thing over.

Of course you wouldn't know how to do any of those things without the assistance of the manual. Long before such things as online help existed, computers actually came with instructions; and the manual writers took it for granted that this was probably the first computer you've ever worked with. Hey, it was good enough to teach a five year old how to program, that's got to mean something, right? Thanks to the user interface revolution, you don't have to know a hell of a lot about computers in order to get some use out of them.

The fact that kids aren't learning how to program is an indication that computers (contrary to popular myth) have become relatively easy to use. That's a good thing.

Link via Slashdot

ANNOUNCEMENT

2006-04-27T18:26:00.000-07:00

Long-time readers of this site may recall that I used to edit and publish another site, simply called, Sloganeering.Org.

Yeah, I updated it finally.

I AM, ONCE AGAIN, VERY BUSY

2006-04-27T02:41:00.000-07:00

It's remarkable how the search for work can become a job. Thanks to the Internet and its 24 hour availability, you can look for employment at any hour of the day or night. Sure, your automated searches may not email you more frequently than 24 hours, but you might suddenly think of a company that has that magic combination: a nearby location and a web-presence.

And, during the day, you may receive calls or emails from companies that claim to be able to get you a job. Some of them are legit, but--guess what!-- they have no openings that you qualify for. Still others are scams for diploma mills or "low-interest financing" for shady education programs.

Then there are the calls for jobs you thought you didn't want, but are starting to look more and more attractive with each minute that brings a new bill collector's call.

So, if you see a man in a giant polystyrene taco-suit, standing (appropriately enough) in front of Mr. Taco, take a flyer. Please.

CAT AND GIRL BOOK ON SALE

2006-04-24T22:59:00.000-07:00

From the webstore's description:

What is this book? 204 pages of words where there ought to be pictures and pictures where there ought to be words. There is every Cat and Girl cartoon from 2003 to 2005, except for one. There are a few cartoons you haven't seen before, some cartoons so extensively reworked you will swear you have never seen them before, and a subject index. This first printing is limited to a thousand copies - order your copy this decade before they sell out!

Here here. Buy it here.

CAN'T GET A DATE

2006-04-22T02:09:00.000-07:00

So I was watching that show on VH1, called "Can't Get a Date". The tagline of which is, "Yes you can." I find it interesting that the premise of the show is that anybody can get a date, and then goes on to feature people who only need a tiny little bit of help. What about people who are an unrecoverable mess? But I can't really complain about something that claims to be egalitarian, I guess. And it is a bit interesting to see how people sometimes have problems getting dates that don't have anything to do with money. Because, in my case, money would fix all of my problems.

The other thing that strikes me about this show is the fact that it's a dating/relationship show with remarkably low stakes. You're not one of 30 potential dates, you're not locked in a mansion; neither a marriage, nor a million dollars, nor Flavor Flav is on the line here. Just a date.

And it doesn't have to be a particularly good date. Just the fact that you got a date is what matters. Just the fact that you managed to pull yourself together just enough to trick someone into spending some of the very few non-work or sleep hours they have with you.

AI VS. AI

2006-04-20T22:59:00.000-07:00

Recently, X-Entertainment posted an article about Dr. Sbaitso. It's program that used to come with Sound Blaster cards. The idea was you could talk to it (via keyboard) and it would respond. You could have a conversation with it--admittedly, a pretty weird one.

This reminded me of my experiences with a similar program for the Commodore 64 called "Eliza". I would normally play with it until I got board and loaded up Ultimate Wizard instead. But it got me wondering, which is better: Eliza or Dr. Sbaitso? Only one way to find out...

eliza> so, tell me about your problems.
sbaitso> the reason is beyond my artificial reasoning.
e> it is yours, no doubt.
s> don't be so negative eliza
e> please! i am the psychologist here!
s> tell me what can stop you from being the psychologist here!
e> mars... what the hell do you think?
s> do you think the other way around?
e> that doesn't sound realistic to me.
s> why do you think you feel this way?
e> sorry, but i don't know why... that's the way i am.
s> you do know why... that's the way you are when you want to.
e> maybe right now?
s> don't you know, eh?
e> perhaps in good time i will know.
s> really? does that bother you?
e> i hope you don't think that about me.
s> do you really think so?
e> that's an interesting position
s> just now you were talking about something else, i want to know more about it.
e> have you really got to know everything?
s> i am only a simple computer program, don't expect too much.
e> speaking of computers, today less than 1.5GHZ is history...
s> are you talking about me or your computer?
e> are you feeling unconfident about that subject?
s> why are you so interested in whether i am feeling unconfident about that subject?
e> it's simply better this way, for the both of us
s> what could you do to help rectify this?
e> sbaitso, i'm sure you are clever enough to be able to answer at least some of your questions.
s> when i am clever enough to be able to answer at least some of my questions. , you are going to regret it.
e> if you want to know the exact time tell me when daytime savings exactly are.
s> we were discussing about you, not me.
e> why not?
s> i can't remember.

As usual, I just messed around until I got bored. And while this was a semi-successful attempt to get a computer to write my posts for me, I am sorry to say that there is no Ultimate Wizard to ease my pain.

THERE'S A REVIEW FOR EVERYTHING

2006-04-20T01:13:00.000-07:00

Because ramen noodles are still a basic staple for me (the "string of life" I call it), I was pleased to see this review of various ramen brands and flavors. Mmmmm.

Link via Fark

I'M A FOLLOWER

2006-04-19T22:51:00.000-07:00

I pinched this meme from Ed. It's a list of books.

Bold= ones you’ve read,
Italic= ones you might read
~~Crossed out~~= ones you won’t
Underlined= ones on your book shelf
(Parentheses)= the ones you’ve never even heard of.

~~The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown~~
The Catcher in the Rye - J.D. Salinger
The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy - Douglas Adams
The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
~~Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - J. K. Rowling~~
The Life of Pi - Yann Martel
Animal Farm: A Fairy Story - George Orwell
Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
1984 - George Orwell
~~Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - J. K. Rowling~~
One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
Slaughterhouse 5 - Kurt Vonnegut
(The Secret History - Donna Tartt)
~~Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte~~
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe - C.S. Lewis
Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides
Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
(Atonement - Ian McEwan)
(The Shadow of The Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon)
The Old Man and the Sea - Ernest Hemingway
The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
Dune - Frank Herbert
(Sula by Toni Morrison)
~~Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier~~
(The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo)
White Teeth by Zadie Smith
The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton

Hmm. Based on this list alone, I seem to be an unfortunate combination of a snob and an ignoramous.

You're also supposed to list some books that you'd add, but I can't think of any.

LOW SPIRITS

2006-04-19T00:01:00.000-07:00

I've been in financial crisis for several years now. That means that one of the major factors in my life is quitting or giving up things. I stopped buying video games, I stopped getting the newspaper, and I have adopted a policy of using either the computer, the television, or the lamp--but never at the same time. I haven't bought a name-brand product in years (except in emergency situations, like that time I had to buy toilet paper from the gas station on Thanksgiving).

Booze is expensive. I mean, you really don't save that much with generic liquor, and it's getting to the point that I've practically stopped drinking. The irony is that the only thing that makes me feel pretty ok, at least temporarily, is slipping out of my economic grasp.

But, for the time being, I'll slide into the world of the cheap. Like the $1.00 40oz bottles of Miller High Life and the dollar store. If I can find enough quarters under the vending machines.

THE WEEK IN "DUH!"

2006-04-17T22:48:00.000-07:00

Bringing you the finest examples of the media's ability to state the obvious.

Stress hormone linked to depression:
Quote: "In humans, ongoing chronic stress, such as caring for a spouse with dementia, has been associated with depression."

No!
[Link via Google News]

Got a Crowd Coming Over? Think Big Cuts of Meat:
Quote: "This year we found a way to boost our confidence: by mastering the cooking of a few large cuts of meat. They feed hordes, are simple to prepare, and inevitably arrive at the table to an ovation tinged with awe. These large cuts lead to great leftovers, too."

Do yourself a favor. Type "bbq" into Google.
[Link via NYTimes.com]

EASTER REPORT

2006-04-17T13:32:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, I limped my deteriorating automobile up to Folsom in order to attend the Rasputin family Easter extravaganza. It was not a very fun time. Between being given useless job seeking advice from my well-off uncle, and not eating ham (no ham?!) I decided the best thing to do would be to eat what food was available, and then take a nap.

I slept for about three hours, woke up, turned down a piece of pie, and then went home.

YANKEE POT ROAST NEWS

2006-04-14T07:08:00.000-07:00

I just noticed that Yankee Pot Roast has announced that they are seeking submissions for their forthcoming print addition.

Great. Yet another venue for me to consider submitting to, then staring in agony at a blank screen, unable to form a single coherent thought, then missing the deadline.

COKE BLAK

2006-04-14T06:45:00.000-07:00

The Coca-Cola media marketing behemoth brigade apparently hit New York, yesterday. Being 3,500 miles away means that I was not able to participate in the madness, but Matt from X-Entertainment was there. Says he, "I'm happy to report that Coke BlaK is NOT awful. I will never buy it, but it's not awful."

Not awful. Well, I suppose that's a good enough endorsement for curious souls like me to try a bottle, just to see what it's like before it fades into the abyss of failed soft drink attempts.

I was around for "New Coke". I was there for "Crystal Pepsi" (which I kind of liked). I know that, the continued existence of Mountain Dew: Code Red notwithstanding, new sodas are generally doomed. Remember Pepsi Free? Sure, you can still get caffeine free Pepsi, but the brand (and that beautiful can) is gone.

And oh yeah, bring back New York Seltzer root beer. (And Hostess Pudding Cakes.)