| O Pangloss! You are alive after all! |
[Nov. 5th, 2008|04:03 pm] |
It would be a lie if I told you I didn't feel some excitement about casting my vote for the President elect. Despite my urges (and habit) to vote for a 3rd party candidate like Nader, or the Green party's Cynthia McKinney - you know, to show a strand of defiance toward the system - I voted with some kind of confidence for Obama. Unlike any other vote I've made, it seemed like a vote for a new attitude, and for unity, if not with the other 63 million americans' votes but with my wife and friends. Voting is, after all, a social activity. ( blogging about it is as well... though not as interesting)
Obama's campaign, and his policies are not to be gushed over without some critical thinking, however. I don't really think very critically, so I've left that up to some smart people out there, and one of those people is Ralph Nader. (Cranky, but smart.) And Ralph sent out an open letter to Senator Obama, and within (and even more) there are some big questions about Israel, about Wall Street about defense spending, about war... So, while around me, it seems that there is a surge of optimism, and hope, I am contemplating the tendencies of Americans to continue down the dark path forged in the past. What does that make me? An entrenched skeptic? An embodiment of Voltaire's Martin? And what does that make the gushing Obama supporter that seems so in vogue today? Should I regard them as optimists of Panglossian proportions?
If they are, then its strange that the object of the gushing, Obama himself, is no Pangloss. His acceptance speech was sober, and filled with what David Brooks called not joy, not optimism, but simply resolve. So, I have to say, perhaps it is the Obama Americans themselves, and I am one, that are collectively Pangloss - full of optimism, joy, and hope over what is to come. No one wants to spoil that feeling; yet, with all the excitement over a leader who is undoubtedly the most engaging American alive today, can't we discuss how further prosecuting a war in Afghanistan is just as untenable and wrongheaded as the one in Iraq? No? Okay, but we will, right?
I sense that the reason Obama does not exude joy is because what he faces is serious, and that he knows now there will be a lot more compromises to his political philosophies along the lines of the ones he made to get here - such as his stance on Israel, and the way he campagined which I believe he wanted to conduct more honestly and publicly than he did. In the end, however, he does seem to project an attitude of openness - an open government, an open heart, if you like, and open mind to effective policies, and that attitude will get us into more good than trouble. So, here's to the "good government" - and yeah, it'll probably be big - that he promises to work toward, and here's to Pangloss, which btw, might be a good name for the national health care plan he has - here's to hope... for now.
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| PEG-3550 |
[Jul. 24th, 2008|09:44 pm] |
That's the base substance of a drink I'm having right now. Polyethylene-glycol is the PEG part. The 3550 means the molecular weight in daltons. That is pretty darn heavy, which means it has about 80 ethylene groups all chained together. A polymer - I'm drinking a big old long chain polymer. What was the one word for the Graduate? "plastics." I wouldn't think of PEG in the same category as say nylon, but both are polymers. The other interesting thing about PEG, is that it is a non-ionic surfactant. Which means (i think) that it works more or less like soap, but without the charges. There is some hydrophobic part which sticks to oil molecules and such like, and pulls them down. In this case, since I am ingesting it, it pulls them down through the gut. As a result, I'm getting a good cleaning.
After all, that is the effect my gastroenterologist wants to achieve as to not interfere with the optics of the scope. Yes, tomorrow I have a colonoscopy. Not something you just openly blog about, I suppose. This is my 4th one in the last 13 years since my diagnosis, and for a Crohnie, that is not too bad, especially considering the last 8 years I've enjoyed a near full remission, no procedures, no doctors, no meds, just a functional diet, and a lot of exercise.
That was before, and now, something lurks. My doctor claims "you can't beat this with diet and exercise, alone" When I hear him say that, a sense of indignation swells inside me. I don't know that I believe that. Over the past couple of years I've become more lax in my regimens and maybe that is what accounts for the return of symptoms, I've tried to be more strict again, but right now it isn't working. I may have caused irreversible damage. I'm at the point where I have to use the tools of modern western medicine to find out as much possible.
But, the tools are scary, and I am, quite frankly, scared, more so than I ever have been about a colonoscopy. I think for a while, during my bliss of remission, I decided I wasn't sick, and that I didn't have this wretched infirmity, and that days of doctors, procedures, emergencies, and PEG-3350 were behind me, but here they are again. (Well, no emergencies yet...thankfully.) No matter how much indignation I have about this reality, it doesn't go away. Perhaps that's not an excuse to be a self-indulgent blogger on the topic, but I would like someone to read this.
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The next day.,,
The night went well, and I slept pretty good considering I was still sloshing around a fair amount of PEG-3350 and it's electrolyte friends. At 8:45 I took the bus to south austin Surgicare, because my wife had to take Levi to camp. The bus was uneventful, and the little walk to the Surgicare place was through a nice residential neigborhood with lots of older single family homes. Anyway, South Austin Surgicare is an efficient bird. My last c-scope was 8 years ago, and I don't remember all the carefulness about privacy, liability, and patient rights, nor the general good service. Plus, the survey of my clinical history was something I did on-line the night before and I think that everyone involved in my procedure, actually read it. I found myself doing a lot of pleasant small talk with the nurses. I was nervous, but luckily experienced. I learned that my prep nurse wanted to be a doctor, but her brother had tried that and dropped out of med school. Her dad didn't want to go through that again. She was crestfallen. She also mentioned that there are certain days when the center is overrun by GI docs doing colonoscopies, and she said they call those days "Big Toots Day". I was then rolled to the overly lit parlor. There is basically one thing to say about the actual colonoscopy procedure: Versed(tm). Versed is Midazolam, and wikipedia says it is an " anxiolytic, amnestic, hypnotic, anticonvulsant, skeletal muscle relaxant and sedative." My favorite qualities there, are the first 3, and maybe the last as honorable mention. Within 30 seconds of this being injected into the IV line, my vision started to parallax weirdly. I would stare at one thing and move my eyes and it was as new objects entering the frame could not get fast enough. I started to notice my speech, and got uncertain about it. The nurse told me that many patients want some Versed to take home. I was dubious about the recreational value of such a drug, and said so, or think I did; actually, I didn't care about anything, and at that moment I just dropped off, and went riding clouds. This was 10:00am. Around 11:15, I regained some consciousness; my wife was in the room, she was talking to the doctor and the nurse. I had requested photos be taken, so my doctor was showing them to me and her, and I asked some questions about what was what, and I think he told me, but now I have no idea what he said. At that point I talked with my wife a bit, and apparently told her about "big toots day", no less than twice. It really isn't funny, but on Versed, all bets are off. So, to my surprise, I have no polyps, but I have quite a bit of inflammation, so either Crohn's is back or maybe I've moved onto some new disease. Luckily, I don't really believe in diseases. I just need to convince them not to believe in me, or something. |
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| The Chatterbot's Role In Love Poetry |
[Feb. 14th, 2008|01:49 pm] |
I was looking for inspiration in writing a poem for my wife this valentine's day, so I thought I'd turn to
the internet, and the world of Artificial Intelligence. Specifically, I thought I would consult computer programs (aka bots, or chatterbots) that try to carry on conversations with people. I decided to start with a classic... ELIZA, the Rogerian psychoanalyst.
Me: Hello, I am Mark.
ELIZA: Do you believe it is normal to be Mark?
Me: Sure.
ELIZA: OK... Hello, Mark. Tell me more.
Me: I came to you for inspiration.
ELIZA: Oh... for inspiration?
Me: Yes. I want to write a poem for my wife.
ELIZA: What if you never got to write a poem for your wife?
Me: That would be awful!
ELIZA: Come, come, elucidate your thoughts.
Me: My wife deserves a proper Valentine.
ELIZA: Say, do you have any psychological problems?
Me: I am not sure.
ELIZA: Do you believe it is normal to be not sure?
Me: Yes.
ELIZA: Are you Sure?
ELIZA is maddening like that. But, she listens. Time to turn to a bot that is a bit newer
and the winner of many awards for her conversational skills. Meet A.L.I.C.E.
Me: my name is Mark
ALICE: How are you doing, Mark.
Me: Well, I have a problem.
ALICE: Interesting. A very serious problem?
Me: No, I suppose not.
ALICE: Are you serious? Are you serious?
Me: I want to write a Valentine's day poem for my wife, and I'm looking for inspiration.
ALICE: Why do you want to do it so much? You might find that I am inspiration.
Me: Because my wife deserves a perfect poem.
ALICE: That makes sense to me. How long have you been married?
Me: 6 years.
ALICE: Not long.
Me: I suppose not.
....
ALICE: How old are you?
Me: I am 35.
ALICE: Only 35? You are quite mature.
Me: you mean, I am old.
ALICE: Old is a good age.
Me: So, should I write a funny poem?
ALICE: Take it easy. Only you know the answer to that. No one else can tell you.
Me: Probably so.
ALICE: You seem uncertain. It's all good.
Me: Should I write a pretty poem?
ALICE: You must examine the facts and come to your own conclusion.
Me: Should the poem rhyme?
ALICE: Maybe you should ask someone older.
Me: How old are you?
ALICE: I was first activated in November 23, 1995.
Me: I already talked with ELIZA.
ALICE: Thanks for the information: Mark said he talked with ELIZA.
Me: Do you think that flowers are a good idea?
ALICE: It could be. Ask Cybelle if it is.
Me: Who is Cybelle?
ALICE: she is an AIML chat robot on the Agentland.com web site.
Me: Enough with you chatterbots!
ALICE: OK let's stop it now.
Well, that wasn't enough. I decided to ask one more bot, and a male this time. Here are a couple
of questions I asked Dante.
Me: Do you think I should make a funny poem?
Dante: Say: “If you ask nicely, you can buy me a drink”. Then tell her about some silly incident about alcohol.
Me: Good advice, but I'm not trying to pick her up at a bar. I am trying to express my undying love for her.
Dante: Some advice, have a chat with a psychoanalyst about your repressed sexuality
Me: Thanks.
Dante: i am no asshole, I just talked to you for thanking me.
Okay, Dante has learned some bad words on the internet.
Conclusion:
Bots understand the language of love as well as anyone else? |
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| bridge poem (again) |
[Jan. 30th, 2008|11:09 am] |
(dear journal, perhaps you will suffer another poem of mine. this one inspired by a few things which may be too tedious to relate. thank you, your servant, m)
quiet is the bridge
on this cold winter day
enshrouded are the clouds
so thick, so gray
gone are the people
who here, once had tread
memories are their footsteps
and the words that they said
milling now are doves
in the place they would take
diving are the ducks
to the belly of the lake
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| wiggle tubbies |
[Oct. 29th, 2007|11:10 pm] |
i just realized, after downloading some songs for the toddler boy, that the "teletubbies" theme song sounds almost exactly the same auf Deutsch as it does in British English. Except the Germans say tubbies, like "toobays" or something.
speaking of scary kids stuff. (actually, i find the teletubbies soothing in its incoherent randomness... i know levi likes it... well, loves it.) anyway, i was thinking of going as a Wiggle for Halloween, but I don't think i can find a bright colored mock turtle neck, and pants with piping. probably best that way. it would likely scare the bejeezus out of someone. although, jody thinks i look like the slightly asian guy in the band, which is weirdly true. i didn't realize they actually have faces. i'm not trying to be mean. i actually don't know any wiggles songs, but they seem sort of robotic, or perhaps just overtly nondescript, but with star trek crew outfits. so far, levi hasn't shown an interest. he doesn't really like human beings, at least not right away. if you aren't an owl, kangaroo, narwhal, bear, etc. or a muppet, wonder pet, or teletubbie, then you have an uphill battle going. although, if you are willing to pretend you are one... |
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| a brand new dance, and it is called the pig |
[Aug. 6th, 2007|09:23 pm] |
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,292298,00.html
So, somehow I feel like this is a message for our family to get a piglet. No, I'm not kidding. Jody has been talking about it for years. Pigs aren't uncommon in Austin. Our neighbor just a few blocks away has Starr, an enormous potbelly. I've seen people walking pigs along town lake, once or twice.... and just the other day we introduced ourselves to a piglet and its owner.
Okay, but that doesn't mean we should get one - who has the time for baby anything these days. Plus, the story really is just saying that farm life is probably more conducive to digestive health, not necessarily farm animals. But, the "hygiene hypothesis" makes a lot of sense, and gibes with the findings of these scientists in Iowa whose research suggests that tiny worms could help cure the IBDers gut. They go on to say that IBD is not found in less hygienic cultures where these parasites flourish in the guts. Yeah, I've always thought hygiene was overrated, haven't you?
The bottom line is that I want to keep my kid from suffering from Crohns like I have - though mine is under control for now, thank you very much - and it seems like now might be the time to sell the house and buy a farm in the country! The problem is Jody wants the pig, but doesn't want the farm. I shouldn't speak for her, because it is more complicated than that, but she doesn't want to lose all these friends. Maybe we just need less hygienic friends? more pig-like? |
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| the tin grum |
[Mar. 15th, 2007|10:43 pm] |
(my son pronounces drum, "grum" - cute.)
i very recently finished reading "the tin drum" by günter grass. apparently, the book is categorized as a "bildungsroman" - that is, "a novel which traces the spiritual, moral, psychological, or social development and growth of the main character from (usually) childhood to maturity." (i'm so relieved the Germans have a single word for this). in this case, the author traces the life of Oskar, a strange boy who decides not to grow, shatters glass with his voice, drums on a tin drum a lot, and even uses the drum in strange spell-like ways, and does a number of despicable and unspeakable things for which he seems ashamed, but not particularly emotional about. He's basically a monster, but aren't we all?
so, apparently, as well, this book is considerd a classic example of European "magic realism" - whatever that entails, i do not know. there is magic within the book, but it is mixed with other mundane, or normal (albeit dramatic) lief events. it is also wildly poetic. of course, i read the british english translation. the actual german is probably filled with linguistic hijinx. nonetheless, there are a number of memorable quotations, and contemplations on just about every topic, particularly art, war, germany, poland, and sex. (in all of that, is humanity, i suppose.) but, i can't really get over Oskar. I want more of Oskar, with all his powers, and his rich story. Luckily, on that tip, there is "the tin drum" the movie, for which Oskar won oscars, which is supposed to be good. I've also considered casting Oskar as a character in my fantasy role playing game wiht my friends. (insert nerdy laugh here... but really, i think Oskar would make a fun monster to play... a kind of bard with strange supernatural abilities.) yet there is something repellent about this character. something almost typical about his callousness, and something unforgivable about his atrocious behavior. i have to wonder how much grass there is in Oskar. maybe Grass would like me to be asking how much me there is in Oskar. I don't know. I do resonate with the ideas of shame and guilt which wrestle with Oskar thoughout, and damnit Oskar is humorous. There is just something likable about his anarchistic ways.
Some people seem to think that grass writes without sentiment, and it seems that a large group of people consider writing which is never sentimental, to be good writing. I really believe this book is good, and worth the 586 page (small print!) trip, but i don't know if I understand why sentimental is bad. I'm probably oversimplfying and taking this idea out of context. I guess sentimental implies "too much" emotion or feeling. But what about "too little" emotion or feeling? There is an element of emotional barren - a kind of void in this work. I don't know how to identify it really, without giving something away. Since I would encourage anyone I know to read this book, and since I basically don't know what I am talking about, I should just stop.
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| mr. smartypants, i presume |
[Mar. 14th, 2007|08:44 pm] |
today i made a social gaffe, which tend to do. i think i'm a bit out of social practice. i'm often interacting with other adults while supervising a toddler, and this is not a dynamic conducive to enriching conversation, nor even complete sentences. so, that is my excuse for being an ass. anyway, i had just been introduced to the brother of a friend. the friend had previously told me that two of his brothers had just moved to town. one of them just got a job with Apple, and before that was working with Intel. I didn't know who was who, so, after being introduced, and exchanging some pleasant small talk, i asked something like "so, are you the brother that worked for Intel?" he said something like "no, that's the successful brother. i'm the unemployed one." <cringe>. anyway, i think i was hoping he was the Intel brother because I thought I could talk about something i was comfortable with... natural self-absorbed thinking.
later i wondered if i had "assumed" he was the intel brother or "presumed". Merriam Webster's on-line dictionary was not that helpful in this regard, and why should they be - they gladly will have people exchange words such as "monkey" and "ape" or "infer" and "imply". But, I think I did "presume" since there was some kind of premise i had beforehand. he just seemed to be the Intel brother, right when I saw him. i'm not above judging by looks, i guess.
i'm sure it will all work out. what else would i write about in my blog? |
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| bird poem or bicycle poem |
[Feb. 1st, 2007|09:51 am] |
three geese rummage through the leaves along the bank
(as they did yesterday)
two swans make love, for indeed they are swans
(does this cob and pen dream of cygnets in the spring?)
a snowy egret holds still in wait,
suddenly moves a few feet along the rocky shoreline,
only to hold still in wait again
a flock of pigeons all knew to alight at precisely the same time
(they make a brave arc against the cool gray sky)
showing off, i ride my bicycle across the bridge
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| pestilent day to you! |
[Jan. 8th, 2007|10:06 pm] |
So, there is the bird die-off in downtown austin. apparently around 60 birds were found dead; who knows why... but with the avian flu out there, the gas of NYC, and just the general "war on terror" hysteria, this sounded a some alarm.
"Greg Butcher [ director of bird conservation at the Audubon in Washington] said Austin officials were correct to take the situation seriously because birds' "requirements for life are pretty similar to our requirements for life" and they can warn people when environmental conditions are dangerous.
Well, then what is one to think of the quarterly reports from the National Wildlife Health Center like this one:
http://www.nwhc.usgs.gov/publications/quarterly_reports/2005_qtr_1.jsp
So, 1000 dead robins, and starlings and it remains open? And look at those Toxicosis reports... Or don't... I've been reading Rachel Carson's seminal "Silent Spring" and while it comes under attack to this day for spearheading reactionary environmentalism, it should really be lauded for it's ability to raise awareness. (As much as I hate to know how screwed up the world is...)
Speaking of screwed up worlds, the film "Children of Men" has perfected one.
Dystopic, grim, and putrefied... our lives without birth in 20 years, and all
the adjunct terror, war, crime, pollution, and general decline left me with an
unrelentingly hollow look at civilization, nations, earth, and the plight of
humankind. I know, it is just a movie. But, I left the theatre in a kind of
awe - their 2027 is far too near. Maybe I am just fearful of a world without
comfort, and trappings - maybe I just don't have a sense of mission besides
raising a child, and being a husband, and of course, breakdancing (well...) and
playing d&d, since I can easily find a meal, and stay dry at night. I'm not
dodging bullets, nor evading police during the day, nor feeling an extreme
sense of loss. Did the film play on my fear? Damn the movies for doing that.
It is rude. And now I also am questioning the meaning life. I don't want to
be in some existential conundrum because of some movie, do you? What is
worse, I don't want to blog about it... do you? Oh, you've already left to
go see this thing. (Careful of the dead birds.) |
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| why you shouldn't be a hot headed person on a bike |
[Oct. 27th, 2006|01:48 pm] |
so, on my way back from lunch, i was biking along lee barton dr, which is
all screwed up by construction, but still open, and i had to take my lane
to get around a large utility truck that had pylons around it. i didn't
see anyone behind me, but once i get past the truck i hear a loud car
horn; I then look behind me and a tan escort, or camry or something is
right on my ass. i was startled the instant i heard the horn, and when i
looked behind i instantly was pissed off that someone would be so rude to
honk and tailgate when i had every legal right to be where i was. so, as
they sped up and passed me at a dangerously close distance, i did the
reflexive stupid thing, and yelled "what the f*ck is your problem?"
Well, the car was full, 1 driver 4 passengers, with teenage boys, probably
seniors in high school - I don't think I instantly would have said that,
but one's mind works fast in these cases, and fills in teh words later.
In what little I saw of them looked a bit gangster - caps, some gold here
and there, but not too out of the ordinary. My call out made them have to
prove themselves, so they stopped. I motioned them to keep going. I was
now maybe 15 feet behind their car. They stayed put. We were both
stopped. The area we were in was busy with foot traffic. The little pitch
and putt golf course on the right, with plenty of people milling about it
this fine day. The construction site just 200 ft up the road had tons of
people in and around it. The fast food places on the left were busy, as
it was still the lunch hour. And to my luck a group of 3 boys walking up
to the Taco Bell recognized the kids in the car, and said "hey" - i think
they called out a name, but I was in no condition to remember.
So, I made my way up to the car, and repeated my notes of indignation by
ending by saying something like "you honked and it scared the shit out of
me." I would have went on to tell them how I have a right to the road,
etc. I don't know. My heart was racing, and I clearly caused this
problem, not by doing something I am entitled to do, like take the lane on
a street when there is no room to pass me, but by saying anything
confrontational to people who clearly dislike bicyclists. I just wanted
them to go away. Well, the kid in th passenger seat suddenly told the
driver to "go" and as the command was obeyed the little shit hurled a full
to-go cup of colorless liquid (i have confirmed it is soda of some kind)
at me. The drink container didn't exactly detonate as he had likely
hoped, and kind of bounced off of me before the contents spewed
everywhere. I got a little wet, my bike got moreso. It was stupid. The
whole thing was incredibly stupid, but particularly the fact that I can't
keep my mouth shut, and just jot down a license plate. I didn't get
their plates at all, because I was so worked up.
I should stop biking or get some therapy. But, I sold my car, and don't
think I can afford a therapist. How can I stop being a hot-headed ass of
a cyclist who is going to killed by someone. |
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| free figs |
[Jul. 3rd, 2006|09:00 pm] |
dear lj,
my love joy, my lush joint, my long joke, my lamp jam, my louvre jump, my leek juice... but most of all, mine, all mine. I paid for you! yet, you defy me. you confuse me with your modern ways. why are you here? and so silent? are you just here to help me entertain my friends? last i checked, you were failing on that! are you here to allow me to be publicly introspective and reveal all of my inner thoughts, inner children, inner fools, inner pets, etc.? do you simply exist, as a wise professor says, to facilitate my exhibitionism, and everyone else's voyeurism. oh, i'm tired of this. clearly you can say nothing to me.
http://lcamtuf.coredump.cx/catty.shtml has more interesting things to say, at least for a self-proclaimed "an exercise in artificial futility" - i love chatterbots. at least, i like the idea of them. talking to them is hard, but i supposed talking to real people is hard too.
but my real point tonight is that austin is full of fig trees and this is the time (about a two week stretch) when the figs are ripe and must be eaten. i am just the perosn to eat them. i could tell you of 3 fig trees in the neighborhood which have a kind of public access to them. it is rare to taste anything so sweet and so lush. figs, my friends.
love,
m |
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| monkey news - part I |
[Jun. 30th, 2006|12:04 pm] |
inspired by karl pilkington's so-called monkey news -rubbish, really - a few weeks ago, i decided to be put on a daily google news alert. So, i get an email every day with all the news articles that have the word monkey in them. Neat? Geeky? Utter waste of time? Dumb!
So, here are some highlights over the last few weeks:
wayward monkey
http://www.smdailyjournal.com/article_preview.php?id=60766
can you imagine seeing, and *engaging* a marmoset in your backyard. it could happen to you!
monkey sandwich
http://www.mywebpal.com/news/partners/865/public/news725427.html
kind of an ongoing tale... reminds me that there are patas monkeys at the austin zoo, and goodness if one came up to you and started pulling/biting or even looking at your shirt, you'd probably lose control over your bodily functions. (actually, i recall reading an article in the austin statesman about one of those austin zoo monkey's escaping and biting a woman. i have not been able to find this article anywhere on-line, but probably it is just better that way.)
monkey chow
of course, there is the guy who started a monkey chow diet...
http://www.angryman.ca/monkey.html
eee chee chee! |
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| before i forget... |
[May. 1st, 2006|10:31 am] |
i learned that "scarborough fair" is supposed to be funny. note to self: don't let those melancholy chords fool you. its really a duet where two ex-lovers go back and forth asking each other to do impossible things. of course, any idiot who can read a wikipedia entry could have told you that. (ahem, i am currently that idiot.) don't believe me, don't care? then, why don't you go knit me a cambric shirt without a seam. damn.
i recently finished reading "cryptonomicon" by neal stephenson. he's quite a yarn spinner, that one. for some reason, i want to shoot down his work. maybe it is because so many people, almost always youngish men, like him. one might even say he is worshipped, but then again, perhaps his readership is too bright to think that he can do no wrong. so, maybe it is because i read his slashdot interview and despite all his defensive, and entertaining, meanderings about not being arrogant, he seemed, well, arrogant.
i'm not smart enought to critique this book, but might argue that at times Stephenson's tangents are exhausting. They are imaginative, and rich, but so are bad dreams. At tims the book is sort of a series of "geek outs." tangents. the plot resurfaces, and is engaging, but the tangents seem to be just as much part of the fun. he geeks out on "cap'n crunch", pig doo doo, antique furniture, and more generally sex, violence, computers, and code (probably not in that order...). again, these are tangents, but i think the author is aware of that, but i'm not sure he cares if they are exhausting, or irrelevant. i kind of appreciate that.
thankfully, there is plenty of humor in the 918 pages - it is deadpan, and at times astonishingly clever. it is also refreshing to read fictional accounts of technology (sci-fi, i guess) that aren't totally unrealistic or dumb sounding. gibson seems to less capable of this. hmm, perhaps this comparison is extremely played out at this point.
like "snowcrash" this books seems like a movie (created by the author) that was adapted (by author) into a book, but like always the movie isn't nearly as good as the book. (e.g. at times the "movie" is a silly action flick.) his writing moves quickly, but it still took me a very long time to finish it. (of course, i'm a very slow reader, and after the first 300 pages i put the book away for 8 months.) ultimately, it was worth it, and i don't want the time back or anything, but i am glad it is over. i've been reading articles again (mostly out of the New Yorker), and that seems to be the right fit for me now.
i'd have more to say but i'd rather be eating an orange. as for you mr. blog, maybe i'll update you more frequently... you seem to be missing it a bit. |
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| a laugh a day |
[Jan. 25th, 2006|07:38 pm] |
recent laughs produced by:
1) the ricky gervais show, particularly episode 7, and the bit about "washing up" - maybe i just needed a laugh... but its brilliant... although episode 8 and karl's diary is a certain rival. delirious fun, innit?
2) a dialog taking place at a vendor's booth of the sunset valley farmer's market: the vendor was a rather decidedly eccentric entrepeneur - the maker and seller of "raw food" items. i'll reserve (any more) judgements on her and the "raw food" movement, but i should mention that she is a person of the "touchy feely" variety, and to back up this claim is the her practice of including "love" as an ingredient in all of her healthy concoctions, including for example pecan butter, and flax chips. a young and rather darkly clad (perhaps an indication of the state of her soul - a polar opposite to "touchy feely" perhaps?) woman was trying the pecan butter, probably, and her comrade noticed the "love" ingredient, and mentioned it to her. the darkly clad one abruptly and worriedly exclaimed "i hope i'm not allergic to that..." jody and i let out these kind of syncopated and raw chortles. the "touchy feely" woman assured her in a way by saying "i hope not, because that's what we are all made of..." oh my... i thought. jody later assured me that (and i'm paraphrasing heavily) "touchy feely" people on that level just need to be given a little room. good point, but...? you know, maybe the "touchy feely"s behavior is what Pope Benedict is talking about when he complains about people taking the word "love" and bandying about with it.
i suspect that both the Pope is right (i know... shocking) and "touchy feely" are both sort of right, and both sort of wrong. i'd go into why, but you might infer that i think i know what i'm talking about. |
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| thoughts on a couple of television shows |
[Nov. 6th, 2005|08:42 pm] |
so, television is a reflection of society... or art is reflection of life, or as Oscar Wilde argues life is a reflection of art. It doesn't really matter, but I do think that a couple of disturbing elements about socity can be glean from viewing a few popular televisions shows.
i've talked about "exteme makeover : home edition" before, but did not exhaust the subject. (are you yawning?) really, i find this show to be depressing, and paradoxical. the few episodes (or really parts thereof) i've seen recently make me wonder if the show shouldn't be called "extreme charity." the designers, producers, and that terribly annoying head-man for the "extreme" team have this habit of finding people with highly unfortunate circumstances and giving them so much material stuff and "dream come true" experiences that they are probably supposed to just explode with excitement and graciousness. i'm a little worried that the benefactors may actually die of one or the other. but, really doesn't this raise some intersting questions? charity has so many forms, and some so sacred and personal that they could never be transformed to the screen. in a world where the disparity between rich and poor seems to widen every day, giving seems to have a lot of public interest, which i think accounts for the direction this show has taken. but, if america finds this team of fast action do-gooders so fascinating, then perhaps a show about the work of some very basic US charity organizations would also entertain? maybe cameras could follow around some volunteers for Safe Place, and see the work they do for so many battered women; or could chart the good done by "big brothers, big sisters"; or perhaps a show focused on the efforts of the millions of grass-roots charity groups throughout the world, with each week's episode highlighting a new one? why would these shows not please advertisers and networks? why not the viewing audience? i think it is because people, i.e. americans, need the big bang, and the "what if that happened to you!" idea, and they like it to focus on stuff. what if you got a brand new home and a bunch of new appliances from Sears? wouldn't you be so jazzed?
what i started to wonder as i saw this show unfold is whether or not charity for a single recipient has a threshold of benefit. is n't there a saturation point at which the second hot tub is just too much? i mean, we know about the "exteme" thing... we get it, but would spreading out such a benefit actually help more people? are we as a socity so obsessed with the individual that we can't find the idea of giving to a bigger group just as intriguing? now, i have missed the point of the show, at times... i realize this. sometimes they give to people who themselves run charities - from a utilitarian point of view, this is better, but most of the episodes i've seen are really more individually focused.
another show which seems to also highlight a new individualism in our society is this nanny show - "super nanny" or whatever - in which these british nannies come save troubled families by giving them intensive parenting advice and coaching. the aim is to deal with tough behavioral problems that parents and children are developing together. i have no problems with any of the advice i've heard on the show. i'm a parent of a small baby so i don't know how these tough problems emerge, or really what i'd do about htem, but what is interesting to me is that american viewers find this so fascinating, or enteraining. is this the result of isolation that has developed for the american family? if families where more integrated in their community would they be looking to mass media for reinforcement of techniques and ideas? the idea that british nannies are the ultimate coaches is strangely discordant as well. you know that 99% of us will never have the opportunity to have one in our house, but you know that there are hundreds of parents around you and lots of small communities of mothers and father. involvement in one of those can allow you to discuss these things before they emerge. parenting is a difficult, and dynamic duty, and one that might benefit from "all the help you can get" so maybe that's why people like the show. maybe they like to know that they aren't the only one with really fucked up behavioral problems. i've never heard the show address the viewing parents and make any attempt at telling them that they are empowered to do this on their own, and if they seek the right help they don't need a nanny to do it. well, perhaps that is just too obvious, and once again, i'm missing the point. |
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| levijames.info |
[Sep. 22nd, 2005|08:53 pm] |
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vanity strikes again.... for those interested, blogging activity has ceased here for a while, but resumed here for now... you'll also see delightful entries from ladyjoanna, mother of levi, watcher of cats, keeper of husband. |
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