Sated, a Blog

Interview with the World’s Foremost Beard Expert

2011-06-28T22:32:00.015-04:00

I've never "reblogged" something before, as blogger doesn't have a button for it and I feel weird copy/pasting the entire content of a website posting from elsewhere, but I have never wanted to do so more than now. About two years ago I first heard an excellent interview with Dr. Christopher Oldstone-Moore, a historian at Wright State University. He is a pogonologist, or studier of beards (among other things, I presume). The interview is conducted by David Malki ! of Wondermark.com, an excellent website featuring repurposed Victorian illustrations used to make comic strips. Malki ! (the exclamation point is part of his name) is a very vocal beard advocate, so I was not surprised to see/hear him follow his interest into the academic realm.

I think it is safe to say that this interview is fascinating, even if you are not as thoroughly interested in beards as I am. Particularly notable is the discussion of the origins of shaving, and how it came to be the "default" look of men. Then later, the time when beards suddenly burst back on to the fashion scene. Both can be traced to remarkably specific historical events (hint: they are 2179 years apart)!

To quote Dr. Oldstone-Moore:
"The one thing I’m absolutely sure of is that these changes are connected to whatever conceptions we are developing of masculinity. Ultimately, it is always tied to the question of what is it to be a man, and 'how should I be a man?' That’s the existential version of that question, as a man. However that question gets answered is going to have a lot to do with what you do with facial hair. And that’s why I’m interested in studying facial hair, because I think it’s a way of looking at the history of how people think about their masculinity."

The interview is 24 minutes long, and both the mp3 and the entire transcipt (with visual aides!) can be found here:
http://wondermark.com/the-worlds-foremost-beard-expert/

Anyone who cares about me (or history, fashion, or masculinity) at all should listen to or/and read this interview.

The blogger's beard visits Glacier Point at Yosemite National Park

A Moment of Commentary

2011-06-21T08:57:00.004-04:00

It is easy to think of the internet as a massive sea of trivialities, memes and pop-culture references. There is a lot of creativity out there but, maybe because of the sheer volume of media one consumes in 10 minutes of internetting, it is easy to think that the actual work took as little time and effort to create as it did to enjoy. Of course it doesn't. A lot of time and effort can go into silly video or a good joke. Even lolcats, perhaps the most ubiquitous and trivial of internet trivialities, require a good photo.

A few months ago my friend Whitney directed me to this neat poster/flowchart describing the logic of crediting an image online. (As it was created on a design blog, it is also appropriately cool looking.) A cartoonist/author/general creative-type person I follow recently wrote about his corner of this emerging debate, extending the conversation to creativity in merchandising authorship and pop-culture commentary. It also gets at why we feel the need to wear images on t-shirts, the motivations behind that impulse that I've not heard articulated as efficiently anywhere else. It's a short but excellent blog post by an internet creator and merchant who is walking the line between "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" and "give credit where credit is due." Or between "nobody 'owns' a funny sentence" and "simply repeating a funny sentence isn't funny."

"I’m glad that our knee-jerk reaction to seeing a ripoff is to call it out and shame it. I think we’re right to feel proud of someone coming up with a new idea, or creating a new combination of old ideas, but bored or sickened by the same old lazy references being regurgitated for profit. Don’t tolerate it! Having high standards pushes the culture forward faster."
(Read the excellent original piece here.)

By the way, apparently the original insult was removed, from at least one website.

Lewis and Clark and Google Maps

2011-05-30T09:59:00.008-04:00

Happy Memorial Day. I hope your plans are a little easier to figure out than mine.

We're trying to meet some friends at Squaw Island, a possibly-offensively-named but apparently cool park in the city of Buffalo. Not having been there, I consulted Google Maps, the best online map/directions provider by far. But Google appears to be setting me up for a more interesting journey than I anticipated:

I wasn't really sure what to do with that, so I tried to readjust the view so that I could see what was going on better. First it launched me over the edge of the off-ramp. It didn't show a pile of ruined cars at the bottom, so I'm pretty sure that was a mistake on Google's part. I'm hoping it was a mistake. (I mean, I'm REALLY hoping that's a mistake.) But once I got the all-seeing eye of Google adjusted to staying on the ramp, you can see above that it wasn't any better. It appears that I'm supposed to swerve around a few lanes of traffic then launch myself straight into the air. My rocketcar is in the shop, so I'm understandably worried.

I tried to readjust again, just to get a better view of the exit sign/launch coordinates, and this is what it came up with:

After flying straight up into the air, I need to come crashing down about 5 feet later and continue on the highway. Then about 50 feet after that I need to turn my car 90 degrees vertically and take off again. (Understandably, these lines could not be seen in the previous picture because they were covered up by the first skyward rocketline.) I tried to angle the view upward to see where the lines go, particularly that last line where it just disappears. Unfortunately the lines appear infinite within the constraints of Google Maps' vertical axis. And they appear to be perfectly straight despite their contiguousness. In order to appear that way that they must either 1. have a sharp turn but go really high up; or 2. have (an)other turn(s) that aren't accounted for here. I'm imagining a Super Mario-style cloud level full of moving platforms and koopa paratroopas.

Then, one step later in the directions (with no mention of the harrowing cloudworld adventure), the line bursts up out of the ground outside a "water jet cutting showroom," proceeds straight up into the stratosphere again, then comes crashing down not a foot later. It then hops the curb into the center of an intersection:

I'm not sure if these maneuvers would be possible even in a Harrier Jet, but my Chevy Cobalt is certainly going to have some trouble. Maybe there's a spring-loaded panel under the road that pops up as I drive over it? Or a scary magnet that comes down to pick up my car? However it goes, Google is not adequately preparing me. I'll let you know if I make it.

Come on

2011-04-11T07:29:00.005-04:00

Google ads, what are you trying to say?

I would like to know the algorithm that decided that this was the ad for me. I feel like this kind of advertising is not as dignified as Don Draper makes it look.

Nice work

2011-01-19T22:33:00.008-05:00

I have to admit, while sifting through junk mail this really did catch my eye:

To whomever is in charge of Case's fundraising: Well done. I haven't stopped carrying the torch of Futurism and I appreciate you appealing to that sentiment. I'm still not in a place where I can be giving money to anyone else, but someday I hope to be. Keep this up.

Decade-old decade-old trivia

2010-11-12T19:48:00.021-05:00

My parents recently decided that they are, for some reason, uninterested in keeping the boxes of magazines and scrap paper that I left in their house when I moved out a decade ago. I suppose someone else will have to become my archivist. I assume that I should have archivist, because whenever historians are trying to understand people they look back at their personal correspondence. If I become famous, perhaps the world will be enlightened by the marginalia and doodles in my "global studies" notebook. Until then, my parents quit themselves of the boxes. Feeling that it is inappropriate to be my own historian (that would be conceited), I am throwing much of it away. But one piece of paper caught my eye.

Some background: When I was in high school I was in the Student Congress, and one year during Homecoming Week I organized a school-wide trivia contest. The questions were read during the morning announcements (by me). Each homeroom got an answer sheet, which was collected, scored, and returned to them each day (by me). The homeroom with the best score at the end of the week won some sort of prize. Or maybe it was the class with the highest total points from all the classrooms. I don't remember the logistics, but I do remember that people got really into it and I was really proud that this whole idea came together. But the best part was the topic. What kind of trivia would I ask during homecoming week? Surely it was sports trivia, you say, and I say No, I don't care about that. Maybe something about the school. Or recent movies, or history, or fun facts. No, no, no, no. Or what about super nerdy stuff that only a sliver of the high school population would know anything about? And I say, BINGO.

So I now present to you, for the first time in its entirety, "Homecoming Homeroom Trivia: Old School Cartoons." The following is copied directly from my decade-old handwritten notes when I came up with the questions. Mind you, these were in the days before Google. (Remember WebCrawler?) There was just enough internet in the world for me to find the GIF's you see below (which decorated the answer sheet), but not enough for people to cheat while sitting in homeroom. So same goes for you, gentle readers, no Wikipedia allowed. See how you do...

Day 1: Thundercats
1. What was Lionel's sword's name?
2. What was the red insignia on the sword called (pictured on the right)?

Day 2: Masters of the Universe
1. Who was He-Man's twin sister and accomplice as a Master of the Universe?
2. What was He-Man's tiger named?
3. [BONUS QUESTION] He-Man's arch nemesis was Skeletor. What was Skeletor's lair called?

Day 3: Ninja Turtles
1. Name all 4 turtles and the colors of their bandanas.
2. What substance created the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?

Day 4: Gummi Bears
1. What did the Gummi Bears live in?
2. What magic potion was the source of the Gummi Bear' powers?
3. What monsters were the Gummi Bears always outsmarting?

Day 5: Transformers
1. The brave and fearless Autobots were in a constant battle with what group of evil transformers?
2. What was the name of the leader of the Autobots (pictured here)?

DELETED SCENES The following was originally scheduled for Day 3, but it was deemed too difficult by the other people who were helping me...
Day 3 (original): Voltron
1. How many lions were in the Voltron Force?
2. Name one of the Voltron Force's three arch nemeses.

This was also in the days before the 80's were nostalgic and cool, before Transformers became a (live action) movie, before the TMNT got reworked as "edgy" anime-influenced nonsense, and before Cartoon Network began rebroadcasting almost all of these shows. So if you've seen the shows since their original before/after-school or Saturday morning timeslots, that's cheating too. But I'm glad that these shows are coming back. If anything, I wish they'd bring back DinoRidersand Silverhawks. But my age group is only beginning to flex our nostalgia muscles, and everything gets brought back eventually, so here's hoping. Until then, here are the answers...

Thundercats
1. The Sword of Omens
2. Eye of Thundera ("Eye of Thundera, give me sight beyond sight!")

Masters of the Universe
1. She-ra
2. Battle-Cat ("Cringer" was also acceptable, though that was his name before Prince Adam turned into He-Man. Nobody put that though, because nobody cared about stupid Prince Adam or his scaredy-tiger.)
3. Snake Mountain (if you said Castle Greyskull you are WRONG. That was He-man's castle, and Skeletor's perennial goal.)

Ninja Turtles
1. Leonardo (blue), Donatello (purple), Raphael (red), Michelangelo (orange).
• (As a colorblind kid, I was always annoyed that the blue and purple looked very similar to me. Especially because Donatello was my favorite and Leonardo was my least favorite.)
• BONUS QUESTION: What were each of their weapons? (L=katana blades, D=bo staff, R=sais, M=nunchaku)
2. Retromutagen ooze (half credit for "ooze")

Gummi Bears
1. Inside a tree (not just "in the forest")
2. Gummiberry juice
3. Ogres

Transformers
1. Decepticons
2. Optimus Prime (This was the only picture that I couldn't match to the one I used back in the day. At the time I used one that was almost identical to this, including the logo, but didn't have his big ol' gun. Columbine still was very fresh at the time and public schools were jumpy about anything related to guns. I guess that as it's gotten farther away people don't mind their cartoon characters having guns. That or school violence has become so ubiquitous that people aren't trying to blame cartoons anymore. But that's a different blog post.)

DELETED SCENES
1. Five lions (I would say that Power Rangers was a terrible rip-off, but it was made by the same people so it was more of a re-make. The main hero(s) looked almost the same, except that it was live action, set in a high school not a cool space base, and used robot dinosaurs instead of robot lions.)
2. Zarkon, Prince Lotor, Haggar the witch.

How did you do? And what do the results of this quiz tell us? Specific answers not withstanding, if this took you on a trip down memory lane, you may be a nerd. Talk to your doctor. Or treat by looking up clips on YouTube all night.

As a final note, let's face it, the Voltron theme was downright inspiring. That horn fanfare almost brings a tear to my eye!

um pandora...

2010-09-22T20:20:00.005-04:00

I think there's been a little mixup over at Pandora ...

I guess it's easy to confuse George Frideric Handel with... is that George Michael?

How is Science?

2010-08-29T02:13:00.002-04:00

“The writing process” by Jack Mack

- write 1-2 sentences
- re-read sentences
- erase most of first sentence and re-write
- think “I should find a citation for this”
- look up a citation by attempting to search through all the published literature in the discipline looking for the single most relevant example
- find an interesting article and begin to read it
- get inspired by some idea that is completely tangential to the original topic. write it down, don’t want to forget!
- get up to get a drink of water, think about new idea
- look in fridge
- “ugh, how long has this been in there?”
- put that back in there
- remember something I need to fix/buy/etc.
- write that down on a piece of paper somewhere
- think, I need to get back to work
- return to computer
- re-read sentences
- think “those are some pretty decent sentences.”
- oops, the verb tenses don’t match the rest of the paper
- change verb tenses
- think, “what was I going to write next? I had an idea.”
- check original outline
- see a topic on my original outline that I haven’t covered yet. “that’s ripe for some writing, maybe I can put that in here.”
- no, I can’t. it doesn’t make sense here
- start a new paragraph and write it down anyway. “I’ll use that later.”
- notice how much I have left to do
- “okay, let’s get down to business”
- get up to go to the bathroom
- pee, thinking “man I drink a lot of water when I write”
- realize that all the water is gone, so refill the cup
- notice dog
- scratch dog
- ask dog how his day is going
- tell dog I love him
- receive blank look from dog
- think of the perfect next sentence
- thank the dog
- return to computer
- forget perfect next sentence
- re-read sentences
- look at list of tangential ideas from “inspirations”
- none of that matters with what I’m writing
- look at outline, books, and journal articles until I see something related to what I’m writing
- in reading it, realize that some famous author has already written exactly what I’m writing, but better
- re-think entire topic/paper/career
- “whatever, I’ll just cite this and say that mine is adding something to it”
- find a relevant quote and use it as the next sentence
- write another sentence
- continue writing sentence
- continue, thinking “man, this is kind of a long sentence”
- remember something I previously read that I should cite in this sentence
- find reference I remembered
- cite it
- put a comma after the citation
- add the contradictory point to the other half of the sentence
- read sentence of extraordinary length, riddled with commas
- “this sentence is too long, I need to split it into two sentences”
- realize all my sentences are too long
- also they all use the same parallel construction
- also also they are all in the passive voice
- think “whatever, all stupid science writing is in the stupid passive voice and I like it anyway.”
- feel guilty because of Grammar
- page back through the paper and find a long sentence to split into two
- “now I have created two new sentences!”
- repeat

Brain atrophy vs. them learnin' books

2010-07-27T11:29:00.007-04:00

I thought this was really interesting, especially for my highly-educated parents, who are approaching their 70's and trying not to be terrified of Alzheimer's or other dementias:
Higher education lowers dementia risk.

First of all, they provide support for the title's preposition that higher ed does help against dementia risk, which is a compelling idea on its own. Fleshing out the topic, the second half of the press release is particularly interesting. They define dementia "risk" as the inability to cope with one's changing brain, since dementia is an experience of symptoms and not a specific physical problem of the brain. The implication is that since more educated/flexible brains cope better, it takes a higher level of physical pathology to manifest the actual impairment that would display the symptoms to be called "dementia." It sounds a bit like splitting hairs/psychobabble, but it's really very profound. Basically, education adds resiliency to the brain, so it can adapt to and endure brain changes and the person still experiences a fairly normal life. It's really cool to see some real meta-analytical evidence of this theory!

It's kind of like the recent recommendation that doctors stop screening for prostate cancer after age 75 because even if a man gets it, he'll probably die from something else first. So he'll have prostate cancer, but won't experience any symptoms, so who cares? Why worry about it or go through painful treatments if it won't change anything? Again, it sounds strange to think of that as a good thing, but since I value quality of life, I see it as great. The chances that I will have the brain pathology that could cause dementia are equal to others in my age group, I have no physical advantages. But the chances that I will actually experience dementia are much lower. And that goes for pretty much everyone in my family, particularly my dad. He has both a Ph.D. and a very sincere fear of his mind diminishing before his body. I sent him this article in the hopes that it will alleviate some of that fear. Now for the next step, I'd like to see the relationship between fear of dementia and experience of dementia. (So all you neuroscientists reading this blog, you know, get on that.)

Psychology has repeatedly shown that when it comes to brains you either "use it or lose it." So get educated earlier in your life to build your brain's coping and flexibility, then keep using your coping skills throughout your life to maintain them, and you'll end up so far ahead that as your brain starts to fail you won't notice!

And that's my musing on science for the morning.

Logic Games and Web Comics

2010-06-09T12:20:00.007-04:00

I'm currently reading Superfreakonomics, the followup to the popular Freakonomics. I really enjoyed the last chapter I read, titled, "Unbelievable stories about apathy and altruism." There's a really interesting part about Economics games/experiments (click for the excerpt, though the book goes even deeper on several of the topics mentioned here). I participated in one such experiment when I was in undergrad, so it was really interesting to hear the theoretical logic behind it. These experiments altered theory and "conventional wisdom" about people's behavior in surprisingly concrete ways. The chapter then goes on to describe real-world and laboratory experiments that changed the new conventional wisdom yet again. I didn't see the later developments in my brief exposure to econ experiments, so it was even more interesting to hear about the changes that have happened since then.

Hearing about these quandaries reminds me of how much fun logic games can be. The book (not the above excerpt) describes "The Prisoners' Dilemma" (note the apostrophe, which I believe to be more correctly placed than the more-common "prisoner's" since there are two people making choices). The Prisoners' Dilemma, and some of its cultural impact, is shown here in comic form. There's also the deceptively tricky puzzle: "There are two doors, one to heaven and one to hell. In front of them are two identical guards, except one always lies and one always tells the truth. You have one question to ask one guard before you make your choice and live with the consequences." It took me a while to remember how to answer this puzzle, and I'll fully admit that I don't think I could have figured it out if I hadn't heard the answer in some long-distant conversation. But in reading about it I came across this even trickier variant. It looks intimidating to read, but I found the email conversation a very thoughtful way of walking a non-logician through the problem. But if you really want to stretch your brain, try this variant.

Speaking of that, I found a new webcomic I like called

Following are some of my favs:

Today's. What a good day to discover this site! It's like a cautionary tale for me on my laziest of days.

...and speaking of cautionary tales, this is a cautionary tale from the past about me on April 14, 2009, at 11:50pm. (Thank God for Tessa, by the way.)

...and speaking of the past, try this with your friends from The Future!

...and speaking of the future, it's nice to know I'll be appreciated!

...and speaking of books I read last year/movies I saw last week, I'm pretty sure this one's straight out of Cormac McCarthy's The Road.

...and speaking of the unspeakable!

Buttersafe has been enthusiastically added to my RSS reader. When reading through some of the archives I was literally laughing out loud, which, by the way, I abbrev as "LLOL."

Hoverboards

2010-05-28T10:06:00.007-04:00

BREAKING NEWS: A Frenchman has built a functional prototype of the Back to the Future II hoverboard from this classic scene:

Now check the real deal:

No indication of whether it is stand-on-able, but it looks pretty legit, right down to the paint job.

I've been dreaming about having a hoverboard my whole life. Though the hot pink BTTF2 one is pretty rad, I prefer the design of the ones from ReBoot (see 1:00 through 1:40 of this video to see what I mean). I confess, I spent a lot of time thinking about this hoverboard when I was 12. Double confession: I still think about it, 15 years later. In the day I came up with a whole system of balance, propulsion, and storage of these things. I could still explain it all, but I'll save you the details. But seriously, if you want to talk about it I will gladly hold forth on my intuitive 360° movement system I "developed" (read: "played with in my imagination"). Using it I would look just like this, except (probably) not blue:

We will continue to track this story as it unfolds. Check back in about a decade when the next step in hoverboard technology develops.

Words to live by

2010-05-25T21:50:00.005-04:00

"See I'm real glad that you opened up to me, 'cause that makes me like open up my heart, youknowmsayin?, and like share the stuff that's been happening to me. Because I used to be like you. I fell into that world of pretend. And that's where you gotta smarten up, and cut somebody sometimes. You might think that I float, you know, maybe even walk on water and stuff. But I mean to tell you that sometimes I drink out of a volcano. I know how to, to deal with the system. I know how to fuck wit it. I just gotta ask you, Ronnie, are you willing to accept what I have to teach?"

I thought that Observe and Report was much funnier than expected. Granted, I heard it was underwhelming, so I was primed to be impressed by anything. But let's face it, sometimes you have to drink from a volcano.

Logorama

2010-05-06T09:16:00.003-04:00

Every once in a while I allow myself to just click around on the internet and see what comes up, and every once within those whiles I find a real gem. I don't know exactly what the "point" is, or if there even needs to be one, but this is really well done.

Logorama from Marc Altshuler - Human Music on Vimeo.

Thank you, internet, for the many gifts you have given us.

Macksims

2010-04-02T14:06:00.008-04:00

Sitting, working, listening to Satie in a coffee shop, I'm pondering one of my favorite quotes:

"When we are unable to find tranquility within ourselves, it is useless to seek it elsewhere."
- François de La Rochefoucauld

Recently I've been interested in François de La Rochefoucauld, a 17th century aristocrat/author. The dude published a whole book called "Maxims" which is quite remarkable. It's just a long collection of pithy sayings, with no narrative and no context other than that which the reader brings. Yet somehow it's really engaging, readable and relevant 350-ish years later. Anyway, I've always thought I'd improve upon quotation over my usual logorrheic way, so maybe I should publish my own books of "Macksims." But I write like I speak, and concision was never my strong suit. Maybe that's why I love punctuation so much: it just lets my thoughts keep on going.

_ . _ .
_ _ . _

The weather is nice and I wish that I owned a bike that wasn't currently being used by some West side thief. (We're coming up on the anniversary of when it was bikenapped out of the old apartment.) I'll get another one eventually, but in the mean time I'm just going to dream about these killer accessories:

Phrenology Bike Helmet. Hand-painted by the artist, all of these bike helmets are amazing. I think it would be well worth $80-$250. I also quite like the wood designs.

Hermes-style reflective pant clips. Are they built on snap-bracelets? There are like 10 cool things about this simple little product.

And as long as I'm dreaming, I wish I had an iPhone so I could put it in this. That's real wood folks! I'd get the bamboo one.

_________________________________________________________

THAT REMINDS ME: I think I'm developing an aesthetic fascination with phrenology (not to be confused with my already established love of Phrenology.) I can add this to my (similar?) fascinations with clipper ships, clocks and old maps. Clearly I am channelling some 19th century explorer, scientist, or general quixotic type.

Nerd-scientists or nerd-punks?

2010-03-07T09:17:00.005-05:00

This video. Not sure what to make of it.

It is like mixture of the famous Milgram experiment and the game (a.k.a. the "mind virus"). If someone ever actually combines those two phenomena, we'll all be begging for Altzeimer's.

Free Association

2010-03-04T18:34:00.007-05:00

The problem with coding qualitative research is that grammatical sticklers can miss the forest for the "dont"'s and the "alot"'s.

The Tits Group: not what you think.

I just noticed that my tag at the bottom of these posts where I note that the post talk about grammar, labeled "grammer police," is spelled wrong. I have decided to leave it this way because:
1. I like the irony.
2. Let this be a lesson to me all. Don't have hubris, Mack.
3. I don't feel like going back to change the previous posts.
Mea culpa, but if anyone asks in the future, refer to #1 and tell them it was on purpose.

Happy Valentimes

2010-02-13T07:57:00.004-05:00

Why it's great to have dogs

2010-01-09T12:36:00.008-05:00

Because when you leave they look like this...

...and you know they love you.

Big News

2009-12-30T22:51:00.006-05:00

I liked it, so I took Beyonce's sage advice, and I put a ring on it.

I decided to ask my lady to marry me on Christmas. I know that this has been done before, but my story is, I think, very special to me. First of all, I knew she'd never expect it. We've been talking about getting married since shortly after we met (seriously the topic came up on one of our first dates), so the proposal itself was not a surprise. But she's seen my bank account and she knows I can't afford a $1,700 diamond ring, plus I've been telling her for about a year that we (we, mind you) will have to start saving up the money for the ring. Little did she know that I've been setting up a diamond express since last spring. I asked my mother's beloved cousin, a childless bachelor, if he knew of any familial engagement jewelry. My great-grandmother's diamond was passed down to his mother, my great aunt, who eventually re-set it into a pretty "cocktail ring," which was in my cousin's safe deposit box in California. A few months later he visited New York City and passed the ring to my sister. A month after that my parents were visiting her and brought it back to Buffalo. Ironically, I was in New York before my parents, but we were on our way to Peru and I wasn't about to lose it to some pickpocket there, so it waited for my parents to transport it home. (I did get to peek at it during my visit, while my intended was busy elsewhere.)

For a few months the diamond lay dormant in a sealed envelope at the bottom of a drawer. During this time my lady and I bought a house and moved in to it together, all the while talking about how eventually we'll have enough money to afford a diamond. When it came close to the holidays I began to get the itch to make it official. I visited a few jewelers to discuss re-setting the stone in a ring that I knew would please my lady. (I had staked out the kind of setting she likes "just for fun" months in advance.) The gemologists were all impressed by the diamond, and consensus was that it was over 100 years old and cut in Europe. They also warned me that I needed to be careful with the little diamonds that were to be set alongside the central stone. My great-grandmother's diamond was so clear and well-cut that impure or otherwise lesser diamonds would really stick out in comparison. They said that the settings ordered straight out of a catalogue are usually fine, there is no guarantee of the diamonds' quality. The way to ensure that the setting's diamonds were matched to the main stone was to have the jeweler order the metal band from the catalogue, then insert the small diamonds himself. Ironically, this was also far more cost effective than ordering the completed package from the company. The only downside? It would take several weeks, and with the busy holiday season the ring would not be ready for Christmas.

This left me with a dilemma. I could try to have the ring ready for my lady's birthday, a few weeks after Christmas. But there was no guarantee it would be done by then either, and I really didn't want to wait. And if I proposed on Christmas it would have some additional advantages, notably that we were going to see both of our entire families that same day. Additionally, it was Christmas day two years ago that we decided we were officially going to be a couple. We counted it last year as our anniversary, and I wanted to make it doubly special. And most importantly, I didn't want to wait while some jeweler fiddled with rocks, I wanted to be engaged to the most wonderful woman I've ever know. So I decided to go for it, noting that she could approve the setting before I ordered it. It is fitting of my beloved to consider such practical matters amidst all the romance.

On Christmas morning I got up early to take the dogs out and let my lady sleep in as long as she pleased. About half an hour later she got up, just as I was about to make her breakfast and bring it up to her. She didn't want to wait for breakfast, so I scrapped the idea as she brought out my present. Thinking ahead to potential hugs and kisses I suggested we shower and brush our teeth, but she was too excited about presents. I knew she is practically allergic to morning breath, so I improvised with peppermint gum for each of us. She wanted to go first, and handed me a rather large box. I had no idea what to expect as she proudly informed me that she was sure I was getting the "best gift." Inside I found a beautiful antique-style globe of the type I've been admiring since we first met. It takes someone really special to notice the two times a year I mention how I'd love a globe in the house, and remember it when it comes to present time. She pointed out that I looked genuinely surprised and thrilled, and I truly was. Hugs, kisses, complements on her taste, etc.

Then it was my turn. I woke up our dog and made him come downstairs. (She didn't see why this was necessary at the time, but I wanted him to be present for such an important moment in our family!) I retrieved a little gift bag from our spare room that had been sitting idle for about two weeks. She looked inside to find an iTunes gift card, something she had mentioned wanting in passing. She was also happy, but I could tell she felt vindicated as the best gift-giver, to put it politely. I told her to keep looking in the bag. She pulled out all the tissue and found an envelope in the bottom. Inside the envelope were pictures of the settings I picked out in the style she likes. I told her she should pick her favorite because, as I got down on one knee and pulled out the little box, I had a beautiful diamond to go with it. She shouted "Yes! Yes!" before I could get any further, so I pointed out that I hadn't asked anything yet and that I had some words prepared. She smiled and listened as I took her hands in mine, and told her that I love her more than anything in the world, that I want to spend the rest of my life with her, and asked her if she would marry me. She responded similarly to the first time, more hugs and kisses ensued, and I pretty much haven't been able to stop smiling since.

Some might plan their proposals to be filled with literal fireworks or elaborate stunts. But in planning the moments I was reminded of how impressed my lady was of the proposal on The Office, which just happened in the moment when the time was right in a place that was unpresumptuous and meaningful to the couple for their own idiosyncratic reasons. Our engagement happened in our pajamas, on our couch and with our dogs. That exact setup has seen us through many snuggly nights, and she commonly refers to it as her "happy place." Anyone can go to a fancy restaurant, but no one else in the world shares that place besides us. Anyone can celebrate Christmas, but few other people even knew that we considered it our dating-anniversary. Though they were unimpressed with the inedible diamond ring, I was glad our dogs were there to share the moment. And though I didn't have the entire ring in one place, the spirit thoroughly moved us both and we agreed that it happened just when it needed to.

We called many members of the family that very same morning with the news, and we saw almost all of our immediate family later in the day. Apparently my bride-to-be has exactly the same finger size as my great-aunt, so she has been enjoying wearing the old setting while we wait for the new one to be built. There are, of course, myriad stories that have developed even in the few days since then. But suffice it to say for now that I liked it so I went and put a ring on it.

1/9/2010 EDIT:

This morning we picked up the ring in the setting we picked out. I'm thrilled. I'm actually much more excited about it than I expected to be. It is beautiful, and it looks so good to have the perfect, prettiest ring on the hand of the perfect, prettiest girl. And it's not just aesthetics, that woman is my intended. I love this.

Movies, comics and family, don't you know

2009-12-23T09:33:00.009-05:00

Today I read this installment of Dinosaur Comics and it made me think thoughts. I don't know about clapping in movies, I have no strong opinions about that at this time, but panels 4 & 5 really spoke to me.

This jumped through the author-internet-reader conduit as a conversation that my lady and I have had innumerable times. I like to stay for the credits, she likes to get on with it. Antecedently, my family always stayed for the credits and hers never did. My parents have a long tradition of looking for the "Best Boy" and the "Key Grip," which is cute and fun. What do those people do? I have no idea, but they're always listed in the credits (never a "Best Girl" though). Not knowing anything about the movie industry nor anyone in the industry, my parents have no real need to look for the BB or KG, but it's just fun. It's like a long, moving word search. I like to look at the music credits. See who performed the songs (both pop songs and the score), who composed the score, which recording company did the work and who's releasing the soundtrack, et cetera.

For me thinking about the music is a way of reflecting back on the movie. "That movement was called 'intense dreams?' Oh that must have been during..." or "When did they play 'London Calling?' Wait, it wasn't The Clash's version? Was there a reason to use a cover version?" It's all part of the larger purpose of the creditstime: to come down from the movie experience, to reflect, to prepare myself to walk back into the lighted hallway and reintegrate with the world that has not just seen the movie. I tend to get so wrapped up in the movie experience that this processing time is important. My lady, on the other hand, consumes a movie and moves on. Not to make her sound like Galactus or something, but she just doesn't get as transported by the experience of movies, or most art for that matter. It's not for lack of attention. We have had some interesting and occasionally impassioned discussions about movies. She often catches subtleties that I missed, maybe because they didn't sink in during my end credits processing time.

She has her own way of enjoying the movie experience. She takes in the movie as it happens and, I believe, processes it best while she's doing other things. So in the dark theater she doesn't need the processing time, doesn't play the "find the Best Boy" game, nor has she any other reason to stay. (She does quite like soundtracks, and has even purchased a few, but she prefers to look them up when she gets home.) For her the movie credits are merely a signal that it's time to leave. She is not alone in this, of course, as almost everyone leaves within a minute or two of seeing the credits roll. Perhaps I'm in some weird, shrinking minority.

But apparently, T-Rex and I are members of the same minority. (I'm sure we could find other things in common, too.) My "why stay for the credits" reasoning is played out pretty accurately in this comic. T-rex's is pithier of course, as it's a six-panel comic and few of my thoughts can be so condensed anyway. But I think the heart of the argument is the same. I feel a kinship with the Terrible Lizard King. This makes the non-sequitur ending even funnier, by the way. As with the whole rest of this line of thinking, getting more deeply involved allows me a greater enjoyment of the component parts and the whole. Furthermore, writing this has made me appreciate my overall credit-watching experience, this particular comic experience, and the current writing experience, all the more! This is so freaking meta!

Does it ruin the meta-ness to point that out? Or enhance it? I don't know. Process this on your own, I've got other stuff to do.

An interesting story !

2009-08-04T08:38:00.006-04:00

Lo, the pony-riders turn in their dusty, rock-topped graves, for David Malki ! tells us how to subvert the US mail.

My friends, check it. Also you should read his fantastic webcomics, created by repurposing 19th century woodcuts and engravings.

What I Saw

2009-06-11T08:50:00.007-04:00

This morning my Gmail text add read:

...but what I read was:

I don't know what that would mean, but that's where my head is at this morning.

Monkeys in Space

2009-05-28T13:21:00.002-04:00

Many thanks to Chris Gammell for pointing me towards this:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=104578202

God bless Miss Baker's little hero monkey heart!

Isn't that a website?

2009-05-08T09:24:00.003-04:00

Let it be known that there is a new meme, likely to storm the world in the fashion of "that's what she said".

Niki:" I love it when I come out of the tanning bed, my freckles are so dark! It's like BAM: party on Niki's face!"

Jack: "Isn't that a website?"

Look out that's what she said, there's a new game in town.

Amazing Obama picture

2009-01-23T14:28:00.004-05:00

My buddy Chris, who is super duper just sent me this link: http://www.davidbergman.net/blog/2009/01/22/how-i-made-a-1474-megapixel-photo-during-president-obamas-inaugural-address/ or the fullscreen version at: http://gigapan.org/viewGigapanFullscreen.php?auth=033ef14483ee899496648c2b4b06233c.

It's a Google-Earth-style superdetailed panoramic picture of the crowd at Obama's inaugural address. You can zoom in and drag the picture around.

You can play "Where's Waldo" looking for what I found:

-Barack Obama
-FORMER president Bush
-Dr. Evil, whoops I mean Dick Cheney
-Clarence Thomas taking a nap
-The Bush twins holding hands and... praying?
-Billary
-Al and Tipper
-Aretha Franklin in her sweet hat. She is totally ready for church.
-Yo-Yo Ma taking a picture with his iPhone, cello at his feet
-more than 1 million people watching history
-and the Magical Floating Hat (hint: in the section behind Obama)

I'm sure there are many more faces to spot. Let me know if you find any! Enjoy!

Procrastinator's Best Friend

2008-12-07T19:45:00.004-05:00

This is probably a dumb time to post this, but I'ma do it anyway to show Rebellion.

Have you ever wanted to change the creation/modification date of a file? I know I have, so that if someone checked such things they would know:

"Jack created this file a week ago! He totally did not just start working on this assignment a few hours before it was due to be sent to me!"

"The last time Jack modified this file was before the official deadline, so even though I'm getting it after the deadline I can rest assured that he has not been working on it!"

"Jack totally did not start this assignment after the deadline! Nor did he modify it after the deadline! Everything Is Okay!"

These are the things we all wish we could say, so I give my professors the joy of saying them by selflessly altering file information using this brilliant little program:

A Better Finder Attributes

Awkward name, elegant program. There are all kinds of other features too, useful for a variety of non-subterfuge reasons. Enjoy!

Oh Yes And Also This

2008-12-05T18:44:00.008-05:00

The end of the semester is a great time for Pictures For Sad Children

Cashing my spell check

2008-11-19T11:12:00.006-05:00

Today I had to tell my web browser to "Learn Spelling" of the words "Barack" and "Obama" so that they wouldn't show up as misspelled words. Microsoft Word, however, does not mark them as unrecognized words. They must have been included in some software update. Good for you, Microsoft Word! You've done it again.

"Hussein," on the other hand, was already in the browser dictionary, but "Saddam" was not, which is curious. Once again, Word recognized both.

Travel Log

2008-07-16T13:34:00.004-04:00

6:00 am: I'm on an airplane and they just offered us wine or beer for $4. Who the hell buys wine or beer on an airplane at 6:20am? I'm sure it's just part of their script that they read to every flight, every day. But holy hell, it's too early to think straight, let alone start drinking. Maybe that's the point? "Head the thoughts off at the pass."

6:20 am: Apparently Southwest lets you choose your own seats. I chose one near the front of the plane near someone who looked like they kept to themselves. I just realized that I also chose a seat such that I am fully in control of TWO windows. I always used to hate it when the person in front of me would have the window shade up that let the light angle in right at me, but they'd have the next one down so they could enjoy the shade. Now I have all the power, and I'm going to use it to make it dark and try to nap.

10:45 am (Las Vegas time): I had an 8-hour layover in Reno once, so I have experienced Nevada's airports before. I don't know if you knew this, but there are slot machines in the airports. A LOT of slot machines, right next to the gates, so as soon as you get off the plane they and dinging and flashing at you. I'm not a fan of gambling, and it's still way too early for so much noise and blinkyness, but that's not the most offensive thing about it. There were people, normal or normal-looking people, who got off our flight and sat right down and started plunking coins and pulling handles. I was really hoping not to see that, all the way up the gangway I was hoping that people could restrain themselves. At least go to the bathroom first! What a weird scene. Maybe next time I'll start up a table of Find the Lady on the plane and catch those early birds before they even see the worms.

Ketubah!

2008-07-08T17:49:00.007-04:00

Today I learned about the ketubah and I decided I want one when I get married. It's an ancient Jewish tradition that's like a pre-nup, but that promises to maintain all the good things instead of (or in addition to) promising recompense should the marriage end. It's not as weirdly fatalistic as the pre-nup. It's more that one's great marriage is a continual reward for staying married. Ketubot can be artistically rendered to reflect the aesthetics of the couple, and are hung in the house as a decoration AND reminder of the wedding vows. It sounds like a pretty great time.

This is the internet-official story.

I am compelled by the idea of the "secular humanist" ketubah, such as one using this text, but then decorating it like the one in the wikipedia article. Other cool designs I found were:

This "tongues of flame" kind of design covered in interlocking leaves, books, and people.
This fancy colorful one which reminds me of a coat-of-arms or a medieval illustrated manuscript.
This attractive circular one which is notable for its unusual shape, its use of Hebrew as a language and as an element of design, and pretty watercolors.
This striking one that looks packed full of symbols, notably books and birds.
And perhaps coolest of all, this one that represents the bride and groom as lions presided over by an intense eagle. I also like how this one shows both the Hebrew and English translations, and has space for an appropriate wedding photo.

I was raised and consider myself both culturally and spiritually Christian, but I'm more into the Beatitudes kind of Christianity. Since my wedding ceremony will likely be very humanist and individual to my bride and me, I'm all for adopting any traditions from any cultures that we find symbolic or meaningful.

I think we all know what one create/studies here...

2008-06-18T14:41:00.009-04:00

(correct answer: parties)
Photo taken at Artists and Models 2008

In the fall of 2003 I was beginning my junior year of college, working hard, playing hard, and was thoroughly confused about my romance life and my life direction in general. It was a fun but stressful time. I had lauded the first Andrew W.K. record ("I Get Wet") as a tribute/satire/tribute-again to everything over-the-top about rock and, legitimately, the ultimate party starter. Though the joke was basically over, I was anticipating the followup. Turns out "The Wolf" really wasn't anything that spectacular, or even as timely as his first. But there was something special about the video for the first (only?) single "Never Let Down." I found myself going to mtv.com and watching this video at the beginning of every day. Sometimes I'd revisit it in the afternoon. This went on for weeks. It was just out of irony, right? It was building up to some punchline where the music major was writing about Stravinsky while playing 3-chord power pop. ...right? I think it may have started that way, but looking back I think it was more than a joke or a guilty pleasure. I actually appreciated the simple affirmation howled above those even equally simple riffs. At the time, of course, I was far too cool to be admit being lifted by something so adolescent. But even today, it's hard not to believe him when he says "I'm a friend by your side / You're never gonna be alone" the way only he can. As we used to say: WWAWKD? Party. And sometimes in life that's exactly what you need.

I'm pretty sure that's how the "sideburns connected to the mustache" style was invented

2008-06-17T11:08:00.006-04:00

DID YOU KNOW:

Shaving within sight of other dudes is basically inviting a constant chorus of "Oh man you should leave it like that! ...oh no even better leave it like THAT!"

I haven't done that in quite a while, but I've been thinking about it recently.

Ex's and Oh's

2008-05-13T11:05:00.004-04:00

Right now I'm in the process of moving. I have been for a while, but today and tomorrow are the big push. As one does when one moves, I'm cleaning things, throwing things out and discovering lost treasures. I just found a used envelope with two quotes written on the back:

"He was broody and vulnerable. He was intensitive." -Aron (my soon-to-be roomie) on Kurt Cobain

"She's flaky isn't she? But, so is a good pie crust." -My mother, on a particular female friend of mine who shall remain nameless on the internet.

That's all for now.

No time like the presents

2008-03-12T12:00:00.005-04:00

There is no time that I want to blog more than when I have something very important to do. I mean, desperately important. This struck often when I was studying for the GRE's (especially the night before), when I was filling out grad school applications (especially ON deadline day), and when I was writing my final paper last semester (again, especially on deadline day). In less than one hour a grad school is going to call me and interview me and decide if they want to allow me to pay money to them and move to their city and attend their classes. I haven't even gotten out a copy of my resume, let alone looked up the person who's interviewing me. I'm also hoping to grab a shower so I can feel fresh and focused. But before that, I have a few things I want to get off my chest.

It's really been bothering me lately when people mispronounce words and phrases, especially things where the meaning has remained essentially the same but the phrase has been warped.

A perfect example. How do you pronounce (and/or spell-out) the abbreviation etc.? Seriously, think about it. We know what it means, we say it quickly, write the abbreviation, and don't think about what it actually IS.

Most people say excetera. It's not that. It's et cetera. Two words, Latin for "and the rest" if I'm not mistaken. And there's a T in there, not an X. Now, it doesn't change the meaning, you can write the abbreviation just as easily, but you can now speak the phrase correctly. It's so easy. It will be noticed appreciated by the people who are in the know, which now includes you.

Other good examples:
- take it for granite = take it for granted.
- for all intensive purposes = for all intents and purposes.
- (just because I work at a coffee shop) expresso = esspresso.

After a grammar-police missive like this I'm tempted to say "watch your p's and q's," but that's another story.

Love, Jack

Let's give thanks for these stickers

2007-11-23T11:24:00.000-05:00

What's worse than radiation? RADIOACTIVE PIRATES:

The new symbol is aimed at alerting anyone, anywhere to the potential dangers... to ensure that its message of "danger - stay away" was crystal clear and understood by all.

A trickle

2007-11-10T10:11:00.000-05:00

One's life is a little stream. Families can combine into creeks. Whole communities can become rivers. Most people have some innate sense of this, and those who are socially inclined can learn to navigate these waters. But it takes a certain social deftness to sense the vast tides of human nature. Most people get so caught up in the eddies and rapids of their own lives that they cannot be open to these great, glacial movements. It is a rare opportunity. How rare, I'm not sure, because I currently feel barely able to see over the next rock. My waters have been turned inward, caught in a whirlpool that has eroded away at the depths but has not gone anywhere. I hope and plan to pull away from this, to join and invigorate my communities, big and small, with my own uniquely enriched current. I believe I am already possessed of a significant social acuity. I perceive the glints and swells of the streams around me with a modestly happy clarity. I hope one day to adapt that perspective; to sharpen, and broaden, and sharpen and broaden and so on, so as to sophisticate myself to sense those vast tides. Occasionally I feel the gravitas of the distant ocean's slow breathing, but I hope one day to rest my head over its heart.

"I am a serious dude who loves Spongebob"

2007-11-05T11:25:00.000-05:00

Last semester I was working with an arts integration program at the Oracle Charter School. The school was not a great place. Middle school is a rough time for everyone, but some middle schools are more enriching than others. Oracle was a place where the strains of adolescence were constantly compounded by a student culture of near-constant derision and a faculty culture of every-man-for-himself disempowerment. This was a place that seriously needed the arts, but the students were so guarded that it was like pulling teeth to ask them to do something creative. Whenever the slightest point of creativity broke the surface it was all we teachers could do to nurture it before the environment inevitably crushed it back under the surface. The triumphs were small, but meaningful. The following poem was written by a student in 6th or 7th grade. I believe it speaks volumes about the processing of the author's internal life and the prospects of his external life.

Spongebob by Nijio Porter

I am a serious dude who loves Spongebob
I wonder why the sky is blue
I hear the phone ringing loudly
I see a book about Spongebob
I am a serious dude who loves Spongebob

I pretend that I could meet Spongebob
I feel so light in the water
I touch the top of my doghouse
I worry there will be no more Spongebob
I cry when I miss Spongebob when he is on
I am a serious dude that loves Spongebob

I understand that animals are dumb
I say reading is good
I dream I would be famous
I try to do good in school
I hope I will have a life
I am a serious dude who loves Spongebob

Music in your Ear

2007-11-03T13:25:00.000-04:00

Here you are on a blog, undoubtedly aware of the "blogolution" that has taken the media away from The Media. You can now get your news, sports, editorials, humor, advice, and everything else tailored to your tastes by forsaking the mainstream newspapers and television outlets and following a trusted voice in the blogosphere. This de-centralization of communication has, like anything else in this internet age, opened the door for a few brilliant but otherwise-unheard voices, and millions of hacks. I don't really keep up with my digital world enough to sort it out for myself. I mainly dip in based on recommendations by people I trust or links from other websites. I am happy to know that there are armies of watchdogs poised with fingers on their keyboards, and I am generally content assuming that they are watching out better than I could. I'm glad I'm not responsible for knowing everything about everything so I can focus on improving the world in the most efficacious ways I can.

That being said, I'm a big fan of music and I was excited when music blogs started popping up. The internet, man. Again, I haven't really invested the time in sifting through the catalogue. Most of it is still written by hacks. The biggest problem with music people try and share on the internet is that is almost exclusively falls into two categories: The first is garbage by "up-and-coming artists" that some distribution company paid to have promoted based on how well the artists wears jeans and not by the actual worth of the songs (see most of the Starbucks songs of the day. Sorry, employer). The second internet-music plague is the "unearthed gems" people will post of known artists from before they were famous or from some rare bootleg, or of unknown artists that are completely off the radar of anyone not related to the band. The problem here is that most of these recordings are unknown for a reason. No one has heard that bootleg of The Lox freestyling on guerilla radio in 1997 because he was high as hell and could barely speak his name, let alone piece together a rhyme. No one has heard that Japanese power-pop band because they are not good at writing music. Or performing music. Really the only reason they managed to get a song recorded was because someone made the guitar chord for them and told them when to hit the strings. This is the most embarrassing manifestation of indie-rock elitism. But here are some things the internet has provided for me that I think are worth passing on:

Aquarium Drunkard - This is really the most solid music blog I've found. It consistently walks the line between unheard/interesting and relevant/quality. They tend to explore a specific time period of a genre or group. The columns are short, interesting, and unpretentious. The mp3 selections will give a high-quality overview of the point they're making. I also like how they swing from current indie rock to rootsy musical history lessons.

Second up is MIXIW (pronounced "mix-you"), which is a pairing of musical blogs around a central theme. This one came to my attention because my mans Josh is the editor. The little introduction at the top of the main page explains it as well as I could, so you should just check that out. Unfortunately, most of the archives were recently deleted due to some website problem, but it's starting back up as strong as ever and they've re-posted the fantastic Remixmix (my name). In college Josh and I talked about and shared music constantly, so it's especially fun for me to see how his tastes have evolved and what has remained consistent.

Finally are two links that are using the internet to change the way we think about purchasing music. Instead of griping about the sad state of the record industry or how illegal downloading is ruining the lives of rockstars, these people are shifting the paradigm. Paste Magazine puts out a great periodical, packages it with a mix-CD, and it now offering the chance to name your own price for their high-quality services. I won't tell you how much I paid, but I will tell you that you should do it. Similarly, and this isn't exactly breaking news, Radiohead is not attached to a record company and is selling their newest album exclusively on their website www.inrainbows.com/. I can't say enough good stuff about the quality of this record. You can pay as little as 45 pence (about $1) for the processing fees, or anywhere more than that, and you automatically get the DRM-free download of the whole record. No middlemen adding the costs that are burying the record industry; just the band, the music and you.

If you have anything else to recommend, I'm always open to suggestion. Considering I've spent years being interested in where the internet was going to guide my musical journey, it's kind of sad that this is all I have to show for it. Hopefully the example of these, and others like them, will effect a real shift in how music is found and even experienced. Until then, rest assured that I'm going to keep buying CD's and going to shows like an original old-school gangsta.

What's the big Idea?

2007-10-05T17:27:00.000-04:00

It has been over two months since I last posted anything here. I'm sorry to admit that, but it is the Truth. I have heard that it should set me free. I am looking forward to that.

From what I am in need of free-setting? The GRE Psychology Subject Test, that's what. The adjective I chose to describe it two months ago was "heinous," and I stand by my diction. There are about 1 million things that could be on the test, some of them absolutely unpredictable, and I'm convinced a few of them are unknowable (at least, no Reasonable person could known them). But I have been studying, for two months putting Facts into my brain. I have not done much else. My social life has waned. I haven't seen a movie or heard a new record in weeks. Several friends have forgotten I existed. Upon seeing me at work, one friend fainted, thinking me a ghost. Parts of my skin have become transparent due to lack of exposure to the sun. My family members cut me out of their wills. I have lost the ability to communicate verbally. I dream in college-rule.

But, like Dave Eggers, I have found the perfect panacea for my personal problems: a magazine! Or more accurately, a 'zine, because you and I both know I can't afford any "maga." It is only in a very conceptual stage right now, as I am thinking of it as The Next Project after I finish this test. It will probably be very similar in interests and style to this blog. This should not be surprising.

It should be good. I mean, they always say "it looked good on paper" for a plan that doesn't work in the practical world (see: Communism, Trickle-down economics), but there is no idiom for a good plan that has not yet been set to paper.

At this point I realize that I'm just killing time, and I should get back to my test review. More on all this later. By the way, the test is tomorrow morning. So good luck to me,
(and good luck to you too, whatever you're doing,)
Jack

Looking forward to numbers 23 – ∞

2007-08-03T19:59:00.000-04:00

I have written 2 blogs recently, but they were both on paper ("taking the "b" out of the portmanteau "blog"), and I'll upload them when I get to it. In the meantime, I'm compelled to tell a short story.

I'm taking a graduate school class at the University of Buffalo this fall. A departmental secretary named Nancy Myers signed me up for the class, but to do anything else I need my UB "person number" and my UB password. In order to get one, you need the other, and vice-versa. Now I know UB is a giant bureaucratic public school where students are treated as numbers, but I have the handy connection of my recent nice interactions with the aforementioned departmental secretary. These people hold all the power at universities, so I am always extra nice to make sure I can get help when I need it. (And because, you know, I'm nice.)

In order to circumvent the need for person number or password to get the other, I finally found a help link saying I could request my info be sent to me if the department also requested it. Bingo, I know just who to ask. So I sent Ms. Myers a very nice email carefully explaining the situation and clearly requesting her help, and I received this as a response:

Alright, no big deal. These types of auto-responses are common enough in busy offices. I'm sure Ms. Iszkun was more than capable of helping me out, especially if I wrote another nice email explaining the situation. So I did, and received this as a response:

I am not ashamed to admit that I only read 148 pages of Joseph Heller's Catch 22 (especially because the book report I gave, including questions by the teacher, got an A+), but I read enough of it to know one when I see one. Come on, UB, don't be like this. I am new to you, UB; I am a blank slate waiting to be impressed by every level of your institution. I will treat you right, promising to participate beneficially in your community and to sing your praises to other potential members, if you will only just offer me a logical path to follow on my academic journey. This is all I ask, UB, and we are off to a bad start.

Poetry of a Generation

2007-06-26T12:16:00.000-04:00

I PREDICT: in 30 years the "Dangerous Minds" equivalent "teacher inspires inner-city youth to fulfill beautiful artistic potential" movie will forget silly old Bob Dylan and instead quote Li'l Jon and the Eastside Boyz.

And why hasn't Shatner covered it yet?

Follow my nose

2007-06-08T19:14:00.000-04:00

The past few days I have been smelling things a lot. "They" say that smell is strongly linked to memory, and my non-scientifically-backable anecdotal experience is piling up the support. In the past few days I have had these intense memory-triggering experiences:

1) While riding in a car with a female friend, some combination of her shampoo/deodorant/lady scents vividly connected her with feelings of an ex-girlfriend. I was crazy about that ex, and she was a fox and a half, and the girl I was with in the car is a strictly platonic friend. It made me feel things in places. I sort of suppressed the thought until I bumped into that same ex-girlfriend at a concert the very next day. I couldn't think of a gentlemanly way to say "The other day I smelled someone who smelled like you [used to smell] and I found it extremely compelling, like in an immediate sexual response way," so instead I just said "It's nice to see you!" and hoped the point got across.

2) Today while at work it was very muggy and hot outside and very air-conditioned inside, so when people opened the door the various drafts of air were quite noticeable. Again, some indefinable conspiracy of scents ignited a vivid memory of playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Arcade Game or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles in Time in my friend Evan Pease's basement on his Nintendo (or Super Nintendo, respectively). I was transported back in time to those sleepover nights eating the snacks and playing the game console(s) my parents wouldn't buy for me. But amidst this wave of mutant-turtle memories, I was jolted back into the present need for chai lattes and double chocolate chip frappucino blended cremes. Bummer.

In both instances I was so connected with the memory that it overtook all of my senses for a moment. As far as my brain was perceiving, I was not in that car or that Starbucks in 2007, I was with a girlfriend in 2000 or in a basement with a buddy in 1996. My entire sensory experience was flushed by the olfactory cue. It was a curious sensation, not at all unenjoyable. I've often said that my sense of smell is probably my only sense worth anything (given my need for glasses, mediocre hearing, undistinguished palette, and assumably average sense of touch). It reminds me that supposedly people secrete pheromones similar to those that animals use to communicate, but we ruin them with all our bathing, deodorizing, and perfuming. I'm willing to bet that, if the pheromone idea has any truth to it, it's no surprise that these two scent memories connected to sex in the first instance and a familial feeling of safety in the second. The next time someone tells me I smell good, I'll try and find out just how good that smell makes them feel.

For further illustration: see Perfume: The Story of a Murderer

Dusting against the wind

2007-06-03T16:36:00.000-04:00

What's the point of dusting? I'm being totally serious here, I don't get it. If there is dust on your stuff you may want to get it off, but is the air above your stuff truly best place to put the dirt? I assume that once the duster-imposed flurry of air has subsided the dust simply settles right back onto the surface from whence it came. Is there something about the mechanics of dusting that I don't understand?

Why is dusting seen as such an integral part of cleaning? In the thousands of years that people have been brushing off their tchotchkes you would think someone would have developed a better system. Even the robot maid from the Jetsons dusted! (In fact, I think cartoon maids are often shown dusting. I believe cartoons to be interesting windows into cultural attitudes, so Rosie shows that we naturally assume that we'll be dusting our moon bases.)

As a person who is allergic to dust, I don't want all my dust particals redered arisol for easy inhalation. But I also don't want dust to build up, waiting for me like an evil lurking skin growing over my stuff. Can dusting somehow reconcile these two ideas? If it hasn't so far, I don't see how kicking up another cloud is going to help anything in the future. Perhaps what the dusting technology and practice needs is an entire paradigm shift.

Photoshop Phriday

2007-06-01T17:58:00.000-04:00

Borrowing the idea of Photoshop Phriday from achewood seems only fitting, as the entire idea of this blog was partially inspired by the blogs of the fictional achewood cast. True to form, mine is lower-tech and has 1/10,000th the readership. But, I submit, the potential for hilarity is at least equal, and quite possibly greater. I've been saving up for a good one.

Last month I was insanely busy. I was teaching a class, which I may expound on later, and the world of coaxing 12-year-old inner-city kids to be creative pretty much devoured a solid month of my life. At the end, I wanted to do something fun, something personally creative, something social that would tell the world "I am a man who is in charge of his own life again."

I present to you John E. Mack, 1972, versus John P. Mack, 2007.

(click to enlarge)

What you are looking at is my father's ID card from his first post-doctoral position at NASA in Houston next to a picture of me taken only a few days ago. The shirt, hair, and mustache are all real. Previous to this incarnation I was sporting a smartly-trimmed goatee (see to the right). People have been asking what prompted the change, and I'm pleased to leave them with "It was about that time."

The reactions have been great, particularly from my father himself who (in the words of my mother) "was quite tickled that I would go to such lengths to mimic him." My dad definitely has a distinct style. He has never paid much attention to his "look," which is what makes it so legit. He is unmistakably a college professor and scientist from toe to tip. The 70's were an era of outrageous clothing and hair (facial and otherwise), and my dad basically cruised through with a handsome, (relatively) conservative, nerdy style that helped him land a wonderful wife, a great job, and (come 1977) a beautiful daughter. Thanks to heredity, here I am 35 years later, similarly nerdy, similarly handsome, and only slightly more educated about the subtleties of looks. People have always said I look like him. I figured now was an opportunity to see how close it could get. Answer: mighty close.

It seems that Mendel may have been on to something. Or, as my friend Aron put it, I "truly [am] the fruit of his loins."

Editor's note: Regardless of this being a digital picture posted on a blog, this was a pretty low-tech operation, notably because I don't have a scanner, digital camera, or Photoshop. The picture of me was taken with a cell phone, the ID image was a picture of a picture also taken with a cell phone, and the whole thing was pieced together in iPhoto and Microsoft Word. A slight elongation of my face is due to the tiny round lens of the cell phone camera, and I tried to blur out the shadows of my glasses on my cheeks, but other than that I assure you there is no digital magic happening here. I wouldn't know how to do digital magic if it was waiting on the couch behind me. But I can't deny genetics.

Self-Improvement and thumbs

2007-04-11T07:43:00.000-04:00

I have the bad habit of chewing on my cuticles. I don't know quite how it started. When I was a small child I used to suck on my first two fingers. (Several of my peers sucked their thumbs, and I remember thinking that was silly. This was apparently before I understood irony.) When I was in middle school I chewed my fingernails, which I may have picked up by watching my sister. There was once a time when my sister's friend showed me how she chewed her cuticles, and I was really disgusted. But then, some time in high school, I switched from chewing my fingernails to the skin around them.

The difference is that the soft bits protected by fingernails hurt immediately if the nails get too short. Cuticle skin is dead and doesn't hurt, or show any signs of true distress, until it starts to bleed. There have been times when all of my fingers are torn up, the skin ragged down to the first knuckle, with several of them scabbing from recent bleeding. It sounds gross because it is. I'm very self-conscious about it. I'm always surprised that very few people notice.

It is a compulsion. I don't even notice I'm doing it until it's too late. I've identified that a big problem is feeling the ragged bits scrape or catch on anything. I want to cut off the offending hangnail. My incisors being the only cleaving tools available, I end up biting or tearing the skin off. Of course, this makes the skin more ragged (and harder for it to grow back). Always wanting to stop, I try to beat it with pure will. Every year I plan to stop chewing my fingers as a new year's resolution, or for lent, or just as a goal for myself. I stopped chewing my fingernails during one of these bouts of determination (and it stuck to this day), but I have never succeeded in laying off the fingers. The closest I have gotten is during my last year in Cleveland I would obsessively manicure myself while sitting at my desk. There was little left to catch or scrape. My fingers generally stayed out of my mouth, but the end results of over-manicuring weren't much better.

Recently I've been going back to a tried-and-true trick. I've been covering up my thumbs with bandaids. Every morning I put them on, every night I take them off and let my thumbs air out. I carry spares in my wallet. It's been fairly effective, as it has been in the past. The thumbs are my go-to fingers for chewing, so having them covered keeps me off of the other fingers for the most part. Seeing the bandages, people have been asking what's wrong with my thumbs and it's embarassing to tell them, but it seems to be working.

I am proud of my progress. It might be the healthiest my fingers have been in a decade. Pretty soon they will be healed to the point where the bandaids will serve no further practical purpose, and I will have to decide whether I will wear bandaids for the rest of my life or if I'm ready to try and go it alone. I am not confidant of my ability to keep it up.

This may be an extended metaphor.

Runs in the family stocking

2007-04-06T16:36:00.000-04:00

On a break at work today I read the comics in the paper. When I came back someone asked me how my break was and I said, "it was good, I read the paper." If you only have a few minutes, glancing over the front page and reading the comics totally counts as reading the newspaper.

When I got home my dad was already back from work. He said he had a very productive day and had come home early. He was "catching up on the paper [he] didn't read this morning." When he set down the paper a little while later I took a look at it, and sho' nuff it was the very same comics page.

Between my dad and me, people have always compared our faces, voices, senses of humor, facial-hair-growing-abilities and the like, but this was a comparison that really hit it home for me. As my Aunt Kitty (my dad's sister) used to say, "no matter how you fight it, you turn out like your parents!" Of course, there are always differences, often major ones, but there are some inheritances you just can't deny.

Pictures on the internet

2007-04-02T23:53:00.000-04:00

UltimateGuitar.com is pretty great for finding tabs, and I guess other people also use it for guitar-related news and information. They tend towards nü-metal/alternative preferences, which I find ironic considering most of that guitar work is boring power chord stuff that anyone could learn in 10 minutes. Anyway, like I said I only use it for the extensive tab database (they also have non-nü-metal), but in order to access the tabs you have to see the homepage. The other day this image spanned the page, see if you notice the same thing I did:

That's right: all the dudes in nü-metal bands look the same. They all have the same goatees, the same gross hair, and even tilt their heads at the same angle. Even these guys have more variety. Maybe when they say it's "alternative rock" they mean that it's an alternative name for the same band. "Sevendust releases new album, this time calling themselves 'Nickelback.' A follow-up as 'Chimaira' is expected soon."

Second up in the weird internet-pictures series are the following gems from myspace's log-off page:

Now, I'm single. I wouldn't mind a girlfriend. I didn't know it was girlfriend season, but I was already keeping my eyes open so I guess now it's legal. And what am I keeping my eyes open for? You guessed it: chicks tearing off their jewlery while grabbing their boobs, and chicks who are soaking wet from the shoulders down and are pointing at me with their nipples. Actually, scratch that first one. If I can't see the nipples straight up then I don't think she's the girl for me. My priorities lay mainly on nipples.

On the same goodbye page from myspace (where I am registered as a heterosexual man) I also received this reminder:

Apparently right after girlfriend season is boyfriend season. It seems strange for them not to coincide, for the sake of each other, but for me at least it gives me another chance. If "wabbit season" ends and I still haven't caught me a girlfriend, then I just call "duck season" and wait for them to find me. That's why I've been working out:

See?

edit 4/6/07

Oh my gracious. I'm sure I'm supposed to be enticed by her perky breasts, but I am far to terrified of the rest of her. I hope this is photoshopped somehow and isn't what she actually looks like.

doodles

2007-03-27T14:57:00.000-04:00

I need to get a scanner, if for no other reason than scanning pictures I've drawn and posting them on this blag. (Yes, blag.)

I have been reading through my old psychology texts and notes recently. I have been doing this for two reasons:
1) To try and keep my mind somewhat scientifically oriented
2) To study for the upcoming Psychology GRE Subject Test.

One of the things I sort of forgot about was how I doodled in the margins of my notes. Some classes' notes have no doodles, indicative of fast paced note-taking (or particularly gripping lectures). The classes where we could download powerpoint slides beforehand are pretty intricately decorated. I tended towards illustrations of silly phrases that popped into my head, and occasionally abstract designs that I would then try to turn into pictures. Sometimes there is commentary on the text of the notes. Sometimes there are pictures of me stabbing my eyes out with pens because I was really bored. All around, it's made the note re-reading process interesting.

Which brings me to one doodle in particular. It is not a picture, but clearly came from the same frame of mind. And given my currently abiguous future, it's strange to see how my mind was working on the options one sleepy morning in class. It reads:


        Future jobs:
            -Rock Star
            -Work at Monkey Colony
            -Psychologist

The first is, of course, everyone's dream. The third is the current plan. The second... I don't remember this nor do I know what to say about it. I will simply point out that "Monkey Colony" is capitalized, so clearly in my mind it was some sort of proper noun. If you find one, let me know, I'd like to keep my options open.

If you're not outraged, you're probably thinking about something else that's more important to you (and maybe the world in general)

2007-03-14T23:47:00.000-04:00

You are currently reading my blog! That puts you into the category of "people who read my blog," so I can assume that you know all about me. So of course you know that I have been working at Starbucks for a while. It's funny how adamantly some people feel about my job! I'm just trying to make a dime, work with my friends, and get some help paying for health insurance. Some people are so against me working for what they see as the "big evil corporate machine" that they try and to proselytize about it, or at least scoff at the idea that I like my job. Someone told me once that it was "like selling out" (they were in the store, mind you). Let me tell you people, first of all it's a good company to work for (it's not nearly as evil as Wal-Mart, for example). They take GREAT care of their employees and have excellent quality control to make that latte worth $4. Second of all, I don't freaking care. I'm so sick of the "if you're not outraged, you're not paying attention" mentality. I work hard to make the world a better place. I'll work on what I think is important with my skills, and you work on your part with your skills, and between all of us things will get better all over. I'm a good friend, a good employee, a good student, and when I get to work in psychology I feel that I'm doing more good for the world than a million bumper stickers. Your favorite local coffee shop (or other cool indie business) doesn't give health insurance to their employees, their employees all drive to work in gas-guzzling cars, and they probably use bad grammar, so don't pretend they're perfect because they're indie and get all righteous on me.

There, I've said it, now I don't need to say it again. I really don't get upset about what other people think. I really don't care very much. I don't even drink coffee. As Andrew Bird so incisively put it, "Listen up, I just work here."

Changing gears, I had an interesting epiphany while at work the other day. When one works the register at Starbucks, one is supposed to greet the customer as he or she enters the store or approaches the till. You end up saying the same thing over and over, so you look for ways to make it a bit different. Ask them how their day is if you need an extra few seconds to finish something up. Save "greetings!" for an older or more distinguished looking customer who will enjoy it more than a casual "hey there!" And occasionally I like to bust out a rarity in this region, "howdy!" I was thinking about the etymology of that word, and I realized it is probably a very simple derivation of "how do you do?"

How do you do --> How doya do? --> Howdy do? --> Howdy!

I came home and looked it up and hell yeah I was totally right! At the time I shared my revelation with my coworkers. Nobody was impressed.

2007-03-08T20:04:00.000-05:00

You come across some random things when you're reading.

"There are three things extremely hard, Steel, a Diamond, and to know one's self."
-Benjamin Franklin

nice

And on a totally separate note:

"And if thou say in thine heart, How shall we know the word which the LORD hath not spoken? When a prophet speaketh in the name of the LORD, if the thing follow not, nor come to pass, that is the thing which the LORD hath not spoken, but the prophet hath spoken it presumptuously: thou shalt not be afraid of him." -Deuteronomy 18:21-22 (King James Version)

in other words

"You may be wondering among yourselves, "How can we tell the difference, whether it was God who spoke or not?" Here's how: If what the prophet spoke in God's name doesn't happen, then obviously God wasn't behind it; the prophet made it up. Forget about him." -Deuteronomy 18:21-22 (The Message Version)

I can think of some people who've said they were doing God's work and made some predictions that didn't pan out. Can you? Looks like God says we should stop listening.

Sunday Morning

2007-03-04T14:12:00.001-05:00

Sunday mornings are a special time. My mother is at church, usually gone before I wake up. My father spends the whole morning in the basement doing work or goofing off or doing whatever it is that he does, presumably enjoying the change in routine as much as I do. I sleep as a first order of business. I work Sunday evenings, so Sunday morning is the one time I can sleep without my subconscious buzzing with the thought that maybe I’m late for work. I don’t always sleep late. In fact sometimes I’m up rather early, ready to start my (Sun)day.

I wake up on Sunday mornings and instantly try to fall back asleep. I was never able to fall back asleep until a year or two ago, and I’m still not great at it. If I can’t, I usually smile and mash my face into the pillow, enjoying the warmth and the lack of urgency. There is no “usual” time to wake up on Sundays, sometimes it’s 6:30am, sometimes it’s noon. While I am mashing my face I let a few thoughts drift through my head, and more often than not one of them sticks and I ponder that for a while. I reach my hand over the side of the bed and pad it around until I find one of two things: (1) my cell phone, or (2) the book I’m reading. If I find the cell phone first I check the time (smiling again at my lack of schedule) and see if there were any messages left for me after I fell asleep. Usually I find the book first, it is a bigger object after all, and I completely ignore the phone and its time and its messages. I turn on the light next to the bed and snuggle back into my cocoon with only the tips of my fingers exposed to hold the book. Before I can get through a page my eyes start to water and I have to wipe the tears and sleep dust away, but since no part of me wants to leave the warm womb of my bed, I just mash my face against the pillow again. Having cleared my eyes, I read the book that is balanced on its side in front of my reclining face. I don’t stop myself from dozing off in the middle of a sentence.

I stay in the warm bubble of flannel sheets and printed words for as long as I can. Usually the first thing I do in the morning is head for the bathroom to evacuate, but not on Sundays. Every step on Sunday is a sort of game where the goal is to press back against the usual morning routine. How long can I go without opening my eyes? How long can I stay in bed? How long before I have to go downstairs? To eat? To shower? To put on pants? Eventually, after maybe an hour, the need to eat or wash overtakes me. Usually it’s the need to eat, but that depends on the Saturday night that preceded the Sunday morning– notably if I ate something substantial or hung out with lots of smokers I’ll feel the needs to bathe before I need to eat. (This morning my hands smelled like plastic, which was as distracting as it was inexplicable.) Often, after eating or showering or both, I’ll go back to bed, reclaiming my cocoon, and read or sleep some more. Sometimes I’ll feel compelled to write and I reach for the pad of paper that lives under my bed. Occasionally I’ll find something scrawled on the paper already, the last remnant of Saturday night left behind before I drifted off. I’ll write whatever Sunday thoughts I’ve got going on in the form of a note-to-self journal or a letter to a friend. All the writing invariably gets shoved back under the bed into a pile of late-night and early-morning thoughts. That pile, if anyone was to read through it, tells the story of my life from the periphery of consciousness. I have not read through it. I took the pile from Cleveland back with me in a box and started a new pile here in Buffalo.

Finally Sunday morning (long-since turned in to Sunday afternoon, just not in my mind) will come to a logical close. A friend will call me and invite me to lunch, my mother will return home from post-church brunch and rouse me, or I’ll just have my fill of dozing and reading and writing and thinking. I will put on pants, which is the final step in my acceptance of a new day. The writing goes on the pile, the cell phone goes from charger to pocket, the book lays closed beside the bed. Today I looked out the window and was surprised that it was snowing, because in my Sunday morning world there is no weather, there are no seasons, there exists nothing beyond my immediate surroundings and the comfort of my mind. The snow draws me out the window into a world with weather systems, traffic patterns and even Other People. I see the cars on the street and know that the world doesn’t value Sunday mornings the way I do. I doubt they could understand the value of my lazy Sunday morning life. But Sunday morning has bolstered my constitution for another week, and I am ready to confront this world. I am wearing pants after all.

2 Legit 2 Quit

2007-02-27T18:36:00.000-05:00

Today is a day off from work.

Things I did today (so far)

Woke up around 8:30am
Read 100 Bullets
Ate some breakfast (Wegmans' Frosted Shredded Wheat)
Went on the internet for a while
Took a nap
Read 100 Bullets some more
Ate "lunch" (Triscuts and hummus)
Made plans to make dinner with a friend
Finished 100 Bullets, started A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Got on the internet again, to write this blog

That's all so far. No shower, haven't stepped outside, haven't even changed out of pajamas. A lazy day, a day that will dissappear in my memory. (Where did last Tuesday go? What did I even do that day?) But was it unproductive? I didn't advance my chances of getting in to grad school, nor my chances of getting a "real" job. But I have always said we are far more than our occupations. I submit that today was very worthwhile, and that everyone should have a day of lazy pampering to remind them why they work hard, or even leave the house, the rest of the days.

The best part is that if anyone asks me what I did today I can just say "I spent the day reading" and it sounds so worthwhile. Take that television, and I guess television-watchers too.

Nocturnal Omissions

2007-02-23T12:55:00.000-05:00

There have been a few strange occurrences happening to me while I've been sleeping recently. (Don't worry, it's not what you're thinking of. That's not strange.) I've been waking up in the morning to find that my left shoulder-bicep area is really cold. Just that one spot. Even when I get in the shower and rub it with warm water, it still feels cold deep inside. Also, my hands have been falling asleep. But not asleep like the rest of me, asleep like that tingling uncomfortable feeling when a part of your body isn't getting enough blood. Usually I just shake my hand or flex my fingers, problem solved. But this morning it was so bad that I couldn't properly flex my fingers. I had to rub my hand and it hurt. Should I be worried? Perhaps some weird coincidence of my bed and sleeping position is conspiring to deny blood to parts of my arms? Or PERHAPS my hands and left shoulder are leading secret, double lives while the rest of me is unconscious? Tyler Durdhands? One that is dark and evil, and leaves me with a cold and painful feeling when my faculties are returned to me. I think I'd prefer the latter, because it would mean that this discomfort isn't my fault. Also, maybe I'd be involved in some giant fantasy adventure to defeat evil? The evil of my own hands?!!?!

What I'm trying to say is that I'd rather my hands were evil than have to re-learn how to sleep.

Epic tales of everyday life

2007-02-20T09:37:00.000-05:00

I just finished (and loved) this:

You're A Prayer for Owen Meany!
by John Irving

Despite humble and perhaps literally small beginnings, you inspire faith in almost everyone you know. You are an agent of higher powers, and you manifest this fact in mysterious and loud ways. A sense of destiny pervades your every waking moment, and you prepare with great detail for destiny fulfilled. When you speak, IT SOUNDS LIKE THIS!
Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.

I could call it APFOM, if I liked awkward acronyms. And I do, so that's settled. APFOM was excellent. It's 600 pages long, but it reads like it's 200. It's a fictional memoir, told in the style of a series of stories after dinner. It bounces around a little, tells interesting background stories about all the characters and gently packs in an incredibly thick continuity. It's hilarious, touching, tragic, and ordinary. In short, it's the story of a life.

I've started to think about the books I like, the stories I like. I've realized a theme in stories like APFOM, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay and Skinny Legs and All. I called them "epic adventures of everyday life." I like the idea that every life is as beautiful and worthwhile as those of the much lauded "heroes" that we love to dote on. Even Siddhartha, which is certainly a story of an extraordinary man (the man who would become known as The Buddha), centers on the revalations gained from an uncommon perspective on a fairly common life. As much as I love The Lord of the Rings or Watchmen (and I do), saving the world is pretty obviously important and interesting. It's fun to get swept up in these stories, to daydream about saving the world and having monuments named after you. But it has always left me feeling very ordinary. What would my story be, without an evil ring to unmake or even an arch nemesis to battle! Call me Dude of the Woeful Countenance. But stories like A Prayer for Owen Meany give me comfort. I cried when my grandfather died, and later when my grandmother died, and they never saved the world... at least, not obviously. But if APFOM has told me anything, it confirmed the feeling I've always felt that if you live a good life then you really are saving the world. Loving life is as miraculous as anything the "great stories" have to offer.

I submit my life to you, the ages, for consideration. Today I got up, read a silly pulp comic book, read a blog my friend published, ate some cereal, text messaged a friend, and wrote a blog entry for myself. It's been beautiful so far, don't you see? And it's still the morning!

Life is a mess, and I love it.

When arrows don't penetrate, cupid grabs a pistol!

2007-02-14T16:06:00.000-05:00

Originally written, in a shorter and more personal form, as an email to my sister and her husband

Happy Valentine's Day dudes and dudettes! I hope you all have a nice day of romance. I have no romance going on, but I do look the part. I am wearing a nice red sweater that a wonderful girl got for me as a birthday present several years ago. As I am single, and decidedly not upset about it, I am celebrating the day with a nice dinner with a few friends. I've spent the day reading, and I'm going to finish "A Prayer for Owen Meany." I may buy Sarah Silverman's "Jesus is Magic" as a gift for myself. Straight up, this year I am my OWN valentine and let me tell you I am a sweetheart!

And now a Valentine's Day story:

A few days ago a regular customer at Starbucks asked my friend Brendon and me what we thought of Valentine's Day. She's the type of girl who's good looking and sort of insecure about it. We're all pretty sure she has a crush on every man she meets. Anyway, so she asked about Valentine's Day. She said something awkwardly provocative like "You guys must have girlfriends to enjoy it with, right?" When we said we didn't she quickly followed with, "But when you have had girlfriends, did you like it?" She was clearly looking for some reassurance, but we weren't sure in which direction she was leaning. We're not trying to offend, of course.

Brendon said something diplomatic by saying it's nice but not a huge deal, but she was really digging for an opinion. I had actually been thinking about it recently for other reasons. I decided to try my philosophy on a real live Female and see what happened.

"The way I see it," I began, "people get too worked up about the wrong thing. Romantic love is wonderful, and certainly deserves celebration, but what's so special about February 14th? If I take my girlfriend out to a nice dinner a week before, or a week after, or on the day, what's the difference? I say, if you want to do something romantic, do it. Don't wait for some 'special' day, make today special. If you take the position that romance is worth celebrating every day, Valentine"s Day is a great excuse to have fun and there's really no pressure. And if I don't have a girlfriend, no big deal, I'll celebrate when I get one."

That'’s seriously what I said, pretty much verbatim. It just popped out as if I'd been rehearsing it (which I hadn'’t, though I'’d been thinking about it). She was pretty surprised to get a treatise like that, so she just kind of vaguely agreed and looked like she was thinking about it. We chatted about Starbucks'’ new cupcakes that are supposed to be a Valentine'’s treat, despite having no clear connection to the day. Apparently when she encountered another coworker on her way out she announced simply: "Valentine's Day."” When he looked for some sort of follow-up she said in a similar declarative manner, "Cupcakes," and walked off.

The end.

Heart-with-an-arrow-through-it,
Jack

Adventure Time!

2007-01-15T11:05:00.000-05:00

RHOMBUS!!!

That was totally math!

He'll kick you apart Oooo!

2006-10-23T17:18:00.000-04:00

Okay I know I've been slacking off here. But I also know no one cares.

Here's a thing I've recently been enjoying:

PS- Today is my "work day" and here I am. Master Of Productivity = Me.

In case you're wondering

2006-10-15T12:35:00.000-04:00

I'm working on a LONG post, with pictures, that outlines the events of this ridiculous weekend in Buffalo. Let's hear it for national states of emergency!

No zen, no motorcycle. Just maintenance and a dash of art.

2006-10-08T12:25:00.000-04:00

Me, last night.

Me, today.

A man's beard can only take him so far in this world. After that, hit the books and get to steppin'.

For a minute there, I lost myself

2006-10-04T00:47:00.000-04:00

Today I was driving a car on the road and I saw a sticker. It was on the bumper of the car in front of me and was very easy to read when I was stopped at a red light. It said ONE LESS SUV.

I liked the idea. The car was a sensible sedan and the girl driving the car looked fairly crunchy. If I had a car with which I felt inclined to communicate, I might wish for it to say the same thing. But I would not have it speak the same way.

I would want it to say "ONE FEWER SUV."

Then I thought of Radiohead's "Karma Police" in my own special way...

Grammar police, arrest this man, he talks in maths
He buzzes like a fridge, hes like a detuned radio
Grammar police, arrest this girl, her Hitler hairdo, is making me feel ill
And we have crashed her party
This is what you get, when you mess with us

I SWEAR TO YOU I AM NOT LAME.

2006-09-28T00:46:00.000-04:00

how do you like your blueeyed boy
Mister Death?

also...

The Movie Of Your Life Is An Indie Flick

You do things your own way - and it's made for colorful times.
Your life hasn't turned out how anyone expected, thank goodness!

Your best movie matches: Clerks, Garden State, Napoleon Dynamite

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

This makes me say "awww, man!" You always take these "Which genre thing Are You?" things hoping that it will say something really cool or profound, maybe even creepily accurate. ("You are smart and social and make good first impressions, but you have goals that you find hard to prepare for and often get lost in escapist fantasies when you should be doing something productive. You are... any band purported to be the "next Radiohead"?) But then they end up with something horoscope-bland. It irritates me that they're always complimentary too. They want you to link to them, so obviously they're not going to say anything bad, but wouldn't that be more interesting?

You are Joel Schumacher's Batman & Robin
You are possibly the worst movie ever made.
Perhaps you should consider killing yourself?

Go-Go Gadget Needlenose Pliers

2006-09-26T14:11:00.000-04:00

I nailed a fence today. YES I DID. OH, YES I DID.

Before I knew about Alan Moore, Frank Miller, and Neil Gaiman

2006-09-24T23:56:00.000-04:00

Sometimes you have to remember what meant to be 13 years old. You've got to respect that, that version of you, and the things you did and experienced. Those were formative times. Those things became you, and many are still with you right now in some way. Maybe by looking back you can figure out where you're going next.

I just finished watching The Punisher (the 2004 version with Tom Jane, not the 1989 version with Dolph Lundgren). I don't care if isn't very good. I liked it. First of all, I'm willing to admit that I LOVE sci-fi/fantasy/action movies of any kind. I loved Van Helsing, enough said. But that's not the whole story with The Punisher. We have a past, he and I. I have a personal history with this fictional character. When I was about 11-14 years old I used to read a LOT of comic books, and the three titles devoted to The Punisher were my favorites. I didn't just read those stories, I absorbed them. Every part of my life was pervaded by what I read and saw in those comics. For example:

I have a huge poster of the Punisher on the wall of my bedroom. (A color version of this with the logo.) When I moved back in with my folks I changed a lot of things about the room, but not that.

I have three big boxes of comic books from my old days. One of the boxes is entirely filled with Punisher comics.

My first email address was PunisherJM@aol.com. Occasionally family members or super-old friends will still ask me if that's my email address.

The girl I was dating in 8th grade wrote lots of notes to her friends and me. She liked to use little symbols instead of names in case, I suppose, the message was intercepted. I chose the Punisher symbol. I had my girlfriend write me notes where she referred to me as a skull.

I wrote a comic book, that I found over a decade later, that was dedicated to the Punisher. Though it was not about the Punisher at all, it had Punisher quotes on the back cover.

I think I learned more about patriotism, respect for the flag, and knife/gun safety, from the Punisher comics than I did from being in Cub Scouts for three years. That thing sucked.

I've recently been going back and re-reading those old comics, Punisher and all the rest. Some of it blows me away with how genuinely funny, emotional, profound, or in any other way mature it is as fiction, as art. Right next to that is the worst pulp I could imagine, way worse than I remembered (and I remembered laughing at it then). The stories don't make sense, the dialogue is shameful, and even the art is pitiful. Where did they find these guys? I mean, any freshman art student can draw a face, any semi-cogent reader should be able to make two consecutive panels depict a sensible punch to the face. Most of it is in the middle: just fun reading, nothing special, nothing bad.

But those good ones, they're worth all the bad/mediocre ones and more. Those special comics are magic. Even today they can connect everything I appreciate about art as an adult with everything I loved about art as a kid. It's not nostalgia, it's real again.

This one is for the sleepovers when we'd stay up until all hours playing Street Fighter II: Turbo, watching the precursors to modern-day sci-fi/fantasy/action movies, and carrying on. This one is for the kid who watched Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Movie so many times that he really felt confident if he ever had to get in a fight. This one is for the version of me that wondered if I would/should grow up to be a badass vigilante.

It was more than escapist fiction, it was a stone-cold reality to that 12 year old, and without it I certainly wouldn't be the person I am today.

Peace, Frank.

News Flashes!

2006-09-14T12:03:00.000-04:00

I have gotten enough sleep two days in a row! I even got to wake up naturally with no alarm. It feels incredible, especially since the day before that I was awakened by my boss calling me at 6:10am to remind me that I was supposed to be there at 6am. I had to leap up from my (until-then perfect) slumber and rush in all groggy and unbathed. It was uncomfortable! I had thought I was supposed to be there at 6 PM. This is the danger of working at a place that is open for 16 hours a day.

In related news, having only one job is glorious, especially when you are scheduled to work in the late morning or afternoon. Tomorrow I am not working at all, so the chances of me getting enough sleep three nights in a row are quite good. In other words, do not call me tomorrow morning. Afternoon would be fine/great!

In sports, while eating breakfast this morning I managed to get Corn Flakes all over myself! I was not doing anything extraordinary while eating (jumping, running, battling, etc.), just sitting at the computer and eating. I hope this is not a sign of a degenerative cereal-eating problem, because cereal is one of my favorite foods.

I found a cell-phone headset that makes it legal and easy for me to talk on the phone while driving. A great thing to do while driving longer distances is to call old friends and (a) catch up; or (b) wish them well! It is entertainment for you and makes them happy, a win-win! That is, assuming that people want to hear from you. If they don't maybe try a book on tape that could help you with social skills?

I am considering my Halloween costume for this year. It's never too early to start! Given that I have a beard, and usually I do not, I am thinking of using/altering it in some creative way to make or embellish a costume. I have several good ideas, but suggestions are welcome! Good and bad ideas only, please.

Epilogue: I am not sure if the "celebrity gossip column"-style use of bold text enhanced my writing or undermined it. I was always taught that good writing should not need gimmicks like italics, CAPITALIZATION, or even ex(!)clam(!)a(!)tion points to come across with proper emphasis. But sometimes you have to say FUCK THAT because it's fun!

Also: cussing!

Don't be afraid of "me"

2006-09-12T23:52:00.000-04:00

Listen up, users of English. I'm looking particularly hard at users of the internet who post pictures for the public to view. I am tired of being offended. I'm sick of all the obscenity. The assault on my eyes, mind, and sense of decency has gone on long enough, and it's time to set you all straight.

This is a brief synopsis on when to use "I" versus "me."

Don't worry about the actual rule, I'll teach you a simple trick that is accurate 100% of the time. All you have to do is take your sentence and make it as simple as possible. Take out any extra people's names, places or times. Then look to see if your I/me use makes sense. When you add the other people back in, put your name at the end.

So:
"Ashley, Kelly and I at midnight at the pool in Cancun! Wooo!"
becomes....
"I at the pool!"
Does that sound right? No, instead you would say Me at the pool or if it's clearer This is a picture of me at the pool. (It should not sound right to say "This is a picture of I at the pool." That doesn't work ever.) Make sense? The caption should read...
"Ashley, Kelly and me at midnight at the pool in Cancun! Wooo!"

Let's try another:
"In this picture me and Tiffani are at the bar."
Now this one would be simplified to Me am at the bar which is totally wrong unless you're in Bizarro World. Of course you would say I am at the bar. So then simply add the other name with yours at the end:
"In this picture Tiffani and I are at the bar."
HOWEVER...
It would be wrong, and arguably worse, to have the caption be "Tiffani and I at the bar." Why? Because that would be simplified the same way as the first example: "This is a picture of I at the bar." You would say "This is a picture of me at the bar" and thus you would say "This is a picture of Tiffani and me at the bar" or simply "Tiffani and me at the bar."

That is the number one mistake of this kind that I notice: people who know that there is a difference between "I" and "me," and think that "I" is supposed to be more proper, so they use it when they actually would have been right using "me."

Is this making sense?

Just make the sentence as clear and simple as possible, then look at your pronoun choice. Why don't you try some with this random girl's pictures I found on myspace (I don't know her):
Jenn and I at Club Sin- yeah we know we look good:)
Jenn, Ash, and I before a night out in Toledo
Me and the girls in Key West:) We had so much fun!

Did you get them? In all three cases the correct pronoun choice was "me!" See? Don't be afraid of "me," it's more proper than "I" in myriad circumstances. Now go out there and properly label things, and use the same trick to speak good too!

6R4MM3R 15 C00L!

2006-09-07T00:43:00.000-04:00

Today, this evening, in the last two hours and within two minutes of each other, the internet has delivered me something wonderful and something awful. Neither would have been possible without the internet. (I've erased this sentence too many times, I'm skipping it.)

I'm not surprised that the internet can bring people together in good and bad ways. I've had both happen to me prior to this evening. But the congruence of both happening consecutively and in such disparate ways has honestly shocked me. I'm shocked at how shocked I am.

I knew the internet had me all figured out, all recorded and compiled, but I didn't think it would ever reach out and poke me in the brain like this. I didn't think it could flip those "elation" and "despondency" switches at the same time, and in me. In ME. I didn't know this could all get so personal.

You made it personal, Internet. You came in my house, climbed in my head, and made it personal. Then you gave me a handy list of antonyms to describe my reactions.

...so I figured it was only fit and proper to write about it on the internet. Man, forget you. I'm going to good, old-fashioned SLEEP.

Kathy's Song

2006-09-04T01:13:00.000-04:00

Tonight I had the interesting privilege to hear The Paul Simon Songbook. It's pre-fame, and (for the most part) pre-production. It's a raw example of how Paul Simon cut his teeth in his early songwriting/recording career. It shows that he was destined for greatness from the start.

As an aside, I feel it's relevant to mention here that Paul Simon is my favorite since way back. The whole story is for another day, but for now suffice it to say that he is sort of my "musical father."

Everyone at my friend's house had at least a working knowledge of Simon, and Simon and Garfunkel, so this early work great discussion fodder for late in an evening. About halfway through the album we all took pause as we were drawn in to one of the most captivating pieces: "Kathy's Song." For me, the reason it was so fascinating went beyond the delicacy of the poetry or the purity of the music. The most interesting part was that the early demo sounded almost precisely like the later, studio recorded version. In the 60's a producer could completely change the sound of a song as he saw fit. In fact, the sleepy, creepy folk/acoustic version of “The Sounds of Silence” was changed into the folk/rock version that we all know and love, and rocketed Simon and Garfunkel into stardom. In the case of "Kathy's Song" something elevated it above the rest, so when the producer was deciding how it should sound he decided not to change or add a note.

On the way home I was inspired to listen to the version that I knew. Sure enough, beyond better equipment there are no notable changes. Art Garfunkel is nowhere to be found, nor are the strings and over-production that were commonly added to folk songs in the 60's. It's just Paul Simon, his voice and poetry and guitar, against the weight of the world. It washed over me. I absorbed it. I got choked up. I was inspired down to the very essence of what I call "me." I really, really heard it.

Kathy's Song is one I have heard scores, if not hundreds, of times before. Yet this time it reached across 40 years and down to the core of me. I am glad to know that I can still feel that revelation from music, and from Paul Simon specifically. I am glad to know that I can still feel that much. I have been in a safe place for a while, with nothing to push me too hard in any direction. In a way, it's important for me to know that I am still vulnerable. I don't want to become so comfortable that all my doors are closed. If nothing else in my life is going to do it, music will still break me, and rebuild me in a new place.

I saw a race!

2006-09-03T16:41:00.000-04:00

At about 2am on Saturday morning, I witnessed a real-life race on the STREETZ. I was driving home on a fairly big road (2 lanes each way at 45mph) and I stopped at a stoplight behind this big, red pickup truck. The light turned green and we both accelerated through the intersection. Just as he reached the other side, well into his acceleration but not at full speed, this little silver sorts car zoomed by in the left lane. Instantly, the truck put his weight on it and the race was ON! Against my better judgment, I had to speed up and follow this. This was a thing, and I knew it. Soon the giant engine of the truck brought him necks with the sports car and they evened out. They zoomed even faster right next to each other. Then, strangely, they both hit their break lights and slowed down, but stayed perfectly even. There was no stop light, no other traffic, they just slowed down to a moderate clip and stayed perfectly next to each other. As the non-participative observer, I saw this car-body language and instantly leapt to two conclusions:

1) They suddenly made friends and were talking through their windows, or
2) They were threatening to kill each other.

Either way, this stretch of road is bringing people together!

PS-When I first stopped I had to turn left in 1 mile, so I had every reason to be in the left lane. I thought that as I stopped behind the truck. But if I had been in the proper lane I would have blocked the silver car and, thus, the race. Perhaps it was DESTINY.

splash

2006-08-22T00:59:00.000-04:00

I have taken the plunge. Not only did I get a job, but I have broken my lifelong streaks of working in neither retail nor food service. However, if I must work in one or the other, I think I have made a wise choice.

I am now a Baristo at Starbucks.

Let it be known that baristo is not a Starbucks corporate-sanctioned term. But I'll call myself a barista when I call myself a "ragazza" or a "muchacha." NOT LIKELY.

*

On a totally disparate note, I noticed that today is the day when I finally shove the SHAVIFESTO off the bottom of my blog. Maybe it's appropriate, since I now have a beard? I still think it's pretty good. Is it weird or conceited to look back on random things one wrote on the internet when one was idle and think, "Well done, One, that is amusing to me still!"? I hope it is not. I definitely do that sometimes and I'm NOT STOPPING. In fact, you should too! If it wasn't amusing (or at least diverting) for ourselves we wouldn't do these things, so we should enjoy them more than once. Considering my limited/possibly-nonexistent audience, I know I do.

2006-08-21T00:57:00.000-04:00

I feel it is important to say here, on the internet, that if you are a robot secretly walking among us that is FINE with me. I will offer your robotic hands high-fives of the same genuine quality that I would give to human hands.

Philip K Dick (the robot), you are welcome at my house.

Philip K Dick (the corpse), dead these 20-some years, please do not come to my house.

Jack Returns, a summer blockbuster in the making

2006-08-15T00:24:00.000-04:00

Hello, The Internet. How are you.

Yes, it's me.

I hope this is not a bad time. I don't mean to barge in on you like this, but I just got the guts to come over and, well, I guess that's about as far as I had thought it out. I know I have been gone a long time, and I expect you have moved on. But I just wanted you to know that I thought about you often during my adventures. I did, I missed you, The Internet.

I missed the easy access to pop-culture and general information that Wikipedia so happily provides. I missed the ability to find a picture of anything at a moment's notice with Google. I have webcomics that have taken whole new directions since I last talked to them, and I feel left out of their new lives. I even missed writing a Thing on my blog, hoping that someone will read it someday. Any reader(s?) I had have undoubtedly given up on me. It was a risk I had to take. I had to go.

Adventures are great. Everyone should have Adventures. But when you come back it's hard to reintegrate in the busy world that has gone on without you. I have had so many new and different experiences, but all people want to know is, "How were the Adventures?" They sound mystified that their pat and disinterested "how are you" has been reworded, but they please themselves by expecting the same answer. "Adventures were great," you say, and nothing more. Somehow the content is out the window and my entire experience is summed up in one superlative. I try to follow up with stories, but my listeners' eyes glass over as they think about how great it is that yesterday and last week were the same as today. A drop of envy and the desire to return to the status quo go a long way.

How funny, here I am rambling like nothing has changed. Just like old times, huh Internet? I'm all going on about how no one wants to hear my great stories, and in the meantime I haven't told a single one. Honestly, now that I have the chance, I don't really feel like it. Another time, when you're interested.

Goodbye for now. I'm back now, and things are going to be, well, great.

Jet Lag: Jet Lee's evil older brother

2006-07-27T02:29:00.000-04:00

SO I guess I haven't done this in a really long time, though I suppose it's doubtful that anyone noticed. However, I have good reasons for abandoning this, and coming back, and possibly abandoning it again soon.

FOOT UPDATE: It turns out the thing is broken, for real! Hairline fracture of the "foot" bone. Apparently it's connected to the "ankle bone," if I remember the song right. (Un?)Fortunately, by the time I actually saw a doctor it had healed enough that she decided there wasn't any point in doing anything about it. She's all, "If you came in last week I would have put you in a cast, but you waited long enough that it's healing. You're 23 so we have no reason to think it won't keep healing. Luckily it's healing straight, or else we'd have to re-break it." Anyway, long-story-slightly-shorter, after driving home early from a trip to Cleveland, getting a speeding ticket, waiting in the doctor's office for 2 hours, and paying a co-pay, the verdict is: you wasted your time. Thanks yo!

ABSENCE UPDATE: I wasn't just slacking off, I was out of town! First I went to Cleveland for 4th of July weekend, then I went to California! We had a giant family reunion in Yosemite National Park for a week, then we visited Lake Tahoe for a few days, with a trip to Oakland in between. It was rad. I hope to put up a(some) picture(s) of how rad it was. To show you, you know?

UPCOMING ABSENCE UPDATE: I may well not post for another long period of time, because my sister is getting married and I am going to Brooklyn for 1.5 weeks to celebrate right. More on that later?

WHAT STUPID THING ACTUALLY INSPIRED ME TO LOG ON AND UPDATE THIS THING UPDATE: One of the things that I hope is never to be shot. But if I ever do get shot, I hope/plan to have this exact conversation with someone, verbatim-style. If shit goes down, do us a favor, play your part.

* * * Out! * * *

My Dang Foot Hurts

2006-06-27T11:41:00.000-04:00

A notable part of my life for the past week and a half is that I am Injured. I was playing some basketball with my friends while wearing sandals, and I managed to land on my right sandal in such a way as to bend my foot under and bruise the hell out of it. I don't think it's broken or even sprained, because I've been walking around on it fairly well. I pop a few ibuprofen in the morning and try to keep it elevated, but otherwise I've been trying not to let it get in the way. I don't think I'm being unreasonably stoic. I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can do with a hurt foot/toe other than try not to piss it off even more. So I've spent the week hobbling around like a scholiosis-free Quasimodo. I don't like it very much at all. Nothing hurts more than an injury, plus my team lost the b-ball game once I left. Sucks.

One amusing moment to come out of this ordeal was the day following the initial harm. A group of my friends were having a barbecue, the same group who witnessed the injury the night before. The weather was perfect, and frisbees and water guns were coming out. My foot hurt a lot, and I was having significant troubles moving around, but I didn't want to seem like a party pooper who was just sitting around on a perfect backyard-fun day. I thought to myself, "what would a Cool Dude do in a situation like this?" I thought of House, M.D. one of the few TV shows that I actually know a little about. The main dude, House, in undeniably a Cool Dude, and he straight up walks with a cane and makes it look badass. Well, I didn't know about the second part, but it occurred to me that I do have a cane. I mentioned a long time ago that I went as Waldo for Halloween, but the cane I made was purely decorative. However, with the advice of my dad I attached a little thing made out of "metal" that made the cane sturdy enough for practical use. Consequently, I saw no reason to use part of the costume when I sported the whole thing so well, so I put it together. I showed up early, and as each person came in their face lit up as their attention turned to me. I was still involved in the rest of the fun day, but it seemed to make sense that I wasn't participating as physically. This kid's dressed like Waldo, he doesn't have to play four square. It worked.

Now I've finally bitten the bullet and made a doctor's appointment. I fully expect him to tell me that there's nothing terribly wrong with my foot and I should just stay off it. It may be unsatisfying, but at least I'll know I don't have some double-secret fracture or alien infection.

"Nothing hurts more than an injury." Words to live by, Jack Mack 2006.

That's not how you spell "sammiches"

2006-06-23T01:42:00.000-04:00

A little while ago I said "One thing I like" and ended up talking about something unrelated. Such is the beauty of a blog. Sometimes I will carefully craft my thoughts into pithy bits of interesting writing. Much more often I will turn my head down towards the keyboard and let some thoughts spill out. I assume if you have made it this far in the blog, you are down with that style. Let me say, bless you for being down with that style.

The other thing I was thinking of on that day in question was: AMBULANCES and, more specifically, the idea that their sirens elicit such a universal reaction. I'm sure there are awful exceptions, but almost universally people will pull to the side of the road and let an ambulance through. I was just talking with some friends about the pace of everyday life, how it's nice that we can abandon worries of "will I eat today" for worries of "did my email get through?" It may seem equally life-and-death to the person emailing, but when they hear that siren, it momentarily falls into perspective. No matter how late you are, there's someone dying and that just takes societal precedence. I doubt most people even think about that moment when it happens, which just proves my point even more. No one can say our culture is entirely narcissistic as long as people make way for ambulances.

This is one of my favorite quotes of all time:

"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend.
Inside a dog, it's too dark to read" - Groucho Marx

An Open Letter To: Portobello Mushroom Sandwich

2006-06-20T01:04:00.000-04:00

Dear Portobello Mushroom Sandwich,

You put me in conflict. I find you delicious, but for some reason my gastrointestinal tract does not digest you properly. That is to say, it does not digest you in the manner to which I'm accustomed: effortlessly and inconspicuously. Is it because you are hard to digest, and my GI tract become discouraged? I doubt it, because that would be a rather grand personification for a GI tract. I was told once by a vegetarian that most humans, as omnivores with an almost limitless diet provided by modern foodstores, have very inefficient digestive systems because they had to be so encompassing. He further argued that since his digestive system was streamlined to only break down fruits, vegetables, and spices, he never had gas. I don't know if I believe him (he also believed that the calcium in milk was BAD for your bones). But perhaps that is why you, Portobello Mushroom Sandwich, and my GI tract cannot get along, despite my personification? That would make me sad because if I had to choose between you and All Meat, I have to go with All Meat. A. Meat is great.

Should I eat more Portobello Mushroom Sandwiches to offset my digestive laissez faire? That could get unfortunate for the people around me. Perhaps my only hope is to save a Portobello Mushroom Sandwich experience for when I am not going to be around anything with a nose. I was lucky today. The only things around me with noses were my parents and they are required to love me by evolutionary mandate. It could be a lonely friendship, PorMusSand. You will be like a mistress that I steal away to visit on "business trips" away from my friends and my Meat. Fortunately for everybody, you and feta cheese are an unbelievable combination. I will carry the torch for you. I will be back.

The Government is Awesome, Maybe?

2006-06-06T18:13:00.000-04:00

Guess what I just heard! The tinkling of an ice cream truck coming down the street! Usually trucks are associated with being loud and smelly, and making annoying beeps when backing up. But not ice cream trucks, no sir! Their beeps are delightful, playing Scott Joplin's "The Entertainer" or something else that will please the young and old. They are the beeps of the masses! The heart of the proletariat beeps with ice cream trucks as the pacemaker.

There were two children and one adult standing next to the ice cream truck. I can't imagine that the ice cream truck made enough off of their sale to justify the effort. It must be difficult to turn an ice cream profit with gas prices what they are, not to mention the varied means of obtaining sweets. They don't even have a solid customer base. They have to hope that people are hungry enough for their ice cream that simply by playing music people will walk out the door to spend money. My conclusion is that there is no way ice cream truck companies can be self-sufficient. However they obviously still exist, I just saw one! So my postulate is that ice cream trucks are subsidized by the government to promote nostalgia and good-neighborly feelings. Sort of like Amtrak, but less practical? I know it is hard to believe, but I can think of no other explanation. I bet the subsidies are buried in super-hidden triple-secret rules that say the people are paid back in the "priceless commodity of a child's laughter." If this is so, bravo government! As I always say, I think there should be more institutionalized fun and hilarity.

One Thing I Like

2006-06-05T01:12:00.000-04:00

It has been days and days since I last added words to this blog. I have been filling up my head, and occasionally the air around me, with words, and have spared none of them for the world of 1's and 0's. This is largely because of the inconvenience of my only port of entry into digital space. I have recently moved from Cleveland, OH to Buffalo, NY, and (more importantly to the blogging world) from an apartment with the computer in the bedroom to a house with the computer in the basement. My father has quite a nice setup down here, but it doesn't have the friendly allure of my little iMac that seemed to smile at me, from the desk next to my bed, as I awoke. I used to stand, scratch, rub the eyes, et cetera, then wake the computer up on my way to the bathroom. We practiced our own morning rituals that prepared us for working together. While I occasionally felt like a slave to the heroin-like world of instant access, with my unassuming iMac as the irresistible needle, it was more often a convenient way to start the day. I enjoyed it, the morning ritual of checking favorite websites, planning my dress according to the hourly weather forecast and finding something to entertain my eyes during breakfast. But I suppose part of the reason I moved cities was to break out of my patterns and habits, and this is the roundabout way of me telling myself, "apparently it's working."

I started writing this with an entirely different intention. Instead, you are party to a small moment of self-discovery. My original thoughts, on something entirely different that I like, can wait. For now, I will see you in your dreams.

A small thought

2006-05-25T19:18:00.000-04:00

Well I guess I've been pretty delinquent about posting ever since my shãvifesto. So here is a thing I thought of.

I bet that the little keychain remote controls that lock your car from a distance really help people with OCD. When one pushes the "lock" button once, one's car locks. When one pushes the button again, the car usually beeps, flashes its lights, or both. Thusly, instead of having to go all the way back to the car to compulsively make sure all the doors are locked, a person suffering from OCD needs only to get within distance of the remote control. Hopefully the person does not start worrying that the remote isn't working, particularly if the car still beeps.

To all the car manufacturers who read this blog: good work! You may not have cured people dealing with OCD, but you've saved them some walking.

The entry about shaving

2006-05-13T15:10:00.000-04:00

I consider myself an expert on shaving. I have been practicing for many years, ever since middle school when my dad first showed me how to not look like a scrub. 10 years later I still have to do it a lot and carefully. When I shave I tend to think about shaving. Sometimes I try to think about other things instead, but there’s something about holding a razor against your throat that commands the attention. After all this time thinking I have accrued some nuggets of wisdom, which I believe will improve your shaving experience.

Why we shave:
We shave because it makes our faces smooth. It also makes us aerodynamic, for anyone planning on moving very quickly through any fluid.

Supplies: There are a few items you must have in order before you dive in.

A good razor: The most important aspect of shaving after a corporeal body, invest in a good razor. Don’t even bother with disposables. That is like shaving with a cheese grater, and will remove hair (and skin) about as well (not well for hair, very well for skin). It is worth the expense to get a good razor, and to keep it outfitted with fresh blades. Every Cub Scout knows you are more likely to cut yourself with a dull knife than a sharp one, because a sharp blade gives you more control and is less likely to skip. Most brands feature some color-changing strip that will tell you when to stop using the blade. They’re trying to get you to buy more blades, so don’t trust them implicitly. However, the moment you feel your blade catch or scrape, change it for a new one. The time and blood saved will offset the cost. I recently upgraded from the Gillette Mach 3 to the Gillette Fusion. Shaving with the Fusion is like wiping the hair off your face.

Warm water: Rinse your face with warm water before you begin. Warm water will open up your pores. This makes the hairs a little looser and the skin less likely to be irritated. Don’t use scalding hot water, because that is dumb.

Shaving cream: Find a brand that has a smell you enjoy. I have tried many different kinds and haven’t found a significant difference beyond the smell. Maybe if you have sensitive skin or something it is more important.

A well-lit area with a mirror: Self-explanatory.

Shaving: The act itself.

A big secret!: Do you know what shaving cream does? It does two things. First, the little bubbles get under the hairs and make them stand up straighter. Second, which most people do not realize, it conditions the hair and makes it softer. It acts just like conditioner for your head, and similarly must be rubbed in to the hair to work. Take a minute to massage the cream into your face, and watch your number of nicks go down.

Go with the grain: Shave DOWN. At least, shave down first, but we’ll get to that in a minute. Shaving with the “grain” of your hair is like sanding with the grain of wood, resulting in fewer snags. This also supposedly helps avoid ingrown hairs, which are kind of gross.

Don’t rush: You can’t just drag a blade across your face and expect it to feel good. Take your time, especially in dense areas. Clean blades work better, so rinse your razor often in warm water. You should rinse between every stroke. For tougher areas, use shorter strokes to maximize clean blade time.

Use your other hand(s): Shave an area, then feel to see if you really got it. Classic spots to miss are the top of the cheek and the back edge of the neck, as I’ve illustrated using this picture of a young Brad Pitt.
This leads us to…

Rinse, lather, repeat: After you’ve carefully shaved your whole face, rinse with more warm water. Look/feel for any spots you missed. Re-lather a little shaving cream and go over the area in a different direction than you did the first time. Now that you’ve gotten rid of most of the hair, it shouldn’t be as troublesome to go against the grain. Indeed, shaving against the grain can lift up those last few hairs and make the difference between a good shave and a perfect shave. But be even more careful, because without the protective layer of hair you are more likely to cut yourself.

Clean yourself up: Maximize the benefits of your hard work.

Final rinse: When you’re satisfied with your face’s lack of hair, give it another good rinse with warm water. Make sure to clean away any extra shaving cream, including around the nostrils, down the neck, and behind the ear where it tends to hide. If you miss some it will dry up, and later in the day someone will point out how unhygienic you are.

Cold rinse: Another big secret! You kept those pores open with warm water, now close ‘em up with a few splashes of (n)ice cold water. This will tighten up your skin a little, which feels and looks great. It will also help close any cuts and slow bleeding. I don’t suggest the Homer Simpson method of leaving little bits of tissue over cuts. Just dab excess blood off while it clots, then brush away the clots a few minutes later.

A matter of opinion:
Shaving is classically done in conjunction with a shower. Shaving after a shower will capitalize on the warm water to open your pores and will make sure your skin is nice and clean. I prefer to shave before I shower. I find that the natural oils of my skin that accumulate while I sleep help soften the hairs. Also, if I cut myself I have the shower time to clean it up, instead of running out the door with a bloody face.

I have been planning on writing this entry since blog day #1, and here it is. It feels very good finally to have it written down. I suppose it’s like a manifesto for me. The hirsute will rise and break the bonds of oppression!

R&B discussion

2006-05-08T19:02:00.000-04:00

Morgan Dontanville to Jack @ 2:48 pm

Ok Jack, of anyone I know you might be able to explain it to me.

At what point did R&B switch from singing songs to just talking like Usher switching back and forth between A and B.

So they will just talk some nonsense "singing" A, A, B, A, A, B, B, A, A, B etc.

Do you know what I'm talking about?

Morgan

The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.

--H. P. Lovecraft

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John Mack to Morgan 6:59 pm

I think I know what you mean, and I think I know the answer. R&B used to be about really good songwriting. It was the black equivalent of Rufus Wainwright or Billy Joel or whoever else you might call a "singer-songwriter." Every song has a "life" and a story, and singles were chosen by which of those songs was the best and most sellable. That's why Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye albums are such beautifully orchestrated collections.

R&B used to be more closely associated with soul and gospel where the artistic content was at least as important as the inspiration towards hip-shaking. R&B (and hip hop, for that matter) is now all about the dancey and/or radio-ready single. Instead of a songwriter creating a piece of art that will carry emotion or a message, a few catchy beats and a hook get filled in with whatever is necessary to make the song 3 minutes long. Once they have a few single-worthy tracks, the album is stuffed with filler so it can be 10 tracks long. You know this, that's how pop music works. I guess that's the difference: R&B is now seen as a sub-genre of pop, instead of an artistic and cultural world all its own. Instead of Stevie Wonder working out exactly which chord progression will bring the best effect to the song he's been working on this week, Usher goes in to the studio with a few beats and hooks prepared for him, knowing that most of the work of the album is done. No one listens past the beats and hooks on those few singles anyway. I can't believe that the iTunes music store and other buy-1-song stores haven't eliminated the need for Usher to make full albums, but I guess they probably put so little work into the filler tracks anyway that it's worth it. Basically they're selling a collection of 3 singles for the price of a full album, with very little extra work.

There is, however, great R&B still being made. Common's last album ("Be") was about half great hip-hop and half great R&B. I just picked up Gnarls Barkley's (DJ Danger Mouse and Cee-Lo) "St. Elsewhere" and I've been really digging on it. It's just straight-up R&B at its best. Check it out, every song is so well crafted and it sounds so good.

Anyway, I hope this helps. Thanks for the question, it was interesting to think about.

<3 Jack

--
"Try to learn something about everything and everything about something." - Thomas H. Huxley English biologist (1825 - 1895)

Throwin' 'bos

2006-05-03T12:05:00.000-04:00

There are basically two types of temp jobs. One is where they have some unreasonable task for you to do, usually in the form of too much simple work and occasionally in the form of one ill-advised task. The other type of job is where there somebody in an office is missing and they need a warm body to fill their space. Often in this type of job the rest of the office is covering for any work that requires actual knowledge, so the temp is left with little-to-nothing to do. Today is the quintessential example of the latter type. I guess it is worth $10.45/hour to them to make sure that there is sufficient weight occupying this chair. (Could my job be done by a stack of phonebooks? It might be rude to phonebooks to ask.) The day is half over and the phone has rung three times, twice for me (the temp agency) and once someone who just wanted to leave a message, and instead of leaving a voicemail she had to wait while I wrote it down. This type of job is exactly why temping is great for about six months, and exactly why it's mind-numbingly awful after a year. But dude's got to get paid, yo.

*__*__*__*__*__*__*__*__*__*__*__*__*__*__*__*__*

Thoughts and Story from Later in the day: I am working today at University Hospitals department of Nephrology and Clinical Hypertension. This is a hospital, people, show some respect. I understand that this idea flies in the old faces of old people who think that since they are old (and, exacerbatingly, sick) they can and should do whatever they want. I understand the sentiment, because when I am old I hope that I will be respected, even if I am acting strangely. However, I also hope that people do not think that the obligation to respect me is in conflict with general politeness and safety for others.

There are signs everywhere. Small and plastic, the signs say

"Cell Phones
Are not to be Turned on
in This Building"

(sic)

As this is a research/testing part of the hospital, I assume the restriction on powered cell phones is to avoid disturbance of delicate instruments that keep people healthy. That's what hospitals are for, to house those devices and the people who know how to operate them.

There was an elderly woman shuffling by in the way elderly people do. She looked like a patient who had visited the hospital's devices and people, and was now leaving. From the very large bag slung over her shoulder issued a very loud series of beeps. I heard the beeps and knew that they were supposed to paraphrase the famous Hallelujah Chorus. The only people who would program those beeps are cell phone people, and the only thing that would produce them would be a cell phone. She was within sight of two, possibly three signs that said

"Cell Phones
Are not to be Turned on
in This Building"

My first reaction, and the catalyst for this exploration, was that I wanted to pick up the sign on the counter next to me and throw it at her. The phone kept beeping, and she kept shuffling, and I kept watching and wanting. Those verbs all kept happening, but the phone stopped first, of it's own accord.

When I am old I will consciously try to be more polite than my cell phone or other period-relevant technology. If a young person throws a sign at me, I will accept a copy of this text as explanation. Perhaps you should bookmark it, just in case.

2006-05-03T00:48:00.000-04:00

The true meaning of springtime

2006-04-30T19:39:00.000-04:00

At a latitude like ours where there are 4 real seasons, everyone has that moment where they realize, "Hey, it's spring!" The stereotypical sign is seeing the first robin of springtime. For many people it's the smell of blossoming flowers and trees. I once had it when I walked out of a rehearsal to find, for the first time all semester, it wasn't pitch black at 8pm. This year it was my own body that signaled the occasion and made me realize the true meaning of springtime: Spring is when I stop being lazy and sitting around in my pajamas all day, and start sitting around in my underwear all day.

Isn't nature beautiful?

today's gimmick

2006-04-24T12:26:00.000-04:00

*So guess what I have? I*'ll give you *a hint. *It comes in semi-regular interva*ls, *is distracting* while you *type, and is a spasm of* your diaphragm. Give *up? It's the hic*cups! Hooray*! Actuall*y I think the hiccups* are super-annoy*ing, but I thought I'd try and do something interesting with them sinc*e I've got them. *Every time you see a*n asterisk, that's when I hiccuppe*d. So *there you have it. Thi*s is what it's *like to type with* the hiccups. In case you hav*en't tried *it. It's pretty anno*ying to *read, I assume? Well it's annoy*ing to write too.* * * (*That was a moment where I was tr*ying to plan what *to say next. I'm trying to be as stre*am-of-con*sciousness as I can here*, to keep the flow*... flowin'.*) *I don't really like the hiccup*s, and I'll tell you why. I don't* like it when I'm *not the one who's controlling something in my body*. For example, I don'*t like being sick,* I don'*t like it when hunger or sleepynes*s impedes my ability to function, an*d I don't* like being really, REALLY drunk (*A little drunk or regul*ar drunk is okay)*.* Whoa! Those two were quick!*

*

*Damn y*ou, the hiccups. Damn your eyes.* Maybe I* should try* holding my breath.

(inhale)

I'm taking blogging to a whole new level today. This is what it's like to type while you're holding your breath! Awesome! I wonder if it comes through to the reader. I imagine not, since I'm not being very delicate about my writing here. You can tell someone is a good writer when they're like "This is what I'm doing, and this is how you should be feeling!" That makes it very clear to the reader, but perhaps not very engrossing.

Though speaking of involving the reader, I'm pretty sure I know what you're thinking. I'll admit it, people, I didn't hold my breath that whole time. A few times I gently let it out and inhaled again. That's how you do it when you want to relax your diaphragm, and that's what I wanted so that's what I did. Lo, and behold! The troublesome hiccups have dissappeared, and with them has gone the asterisk-gimmick!

END OF STORY. NO POINT, NO EDITING.

Beardo

2006-04-17T01:19:00.000-04:00

So whenever I'm away from my lady for a few days it seems inevitable that I grow a beard. Chicks dig a well-groomed man. I suppose that while the dog has earned the title of "man's best friend" the barber is the girl's best friend. This hypothesis is further supported by the revelation that dogs and barbers have opposite effects on the amount of hair/fur that is on a person. Read that over. In my world, this is how logic works.

I got my hair cut fairly recently. I noticed that without the darker hair of my scalp in the mix, the hair you see when my sideburns are short is strikingly red. As the days pass without a lady to shave for, I notice that the hair on my face and particularly on my chin is also red. I remember when I grew a beard a few years ago that it was a little red, but it seems even moreso now. This got me thinking: If all of my hair was the half-dark/half-red mix of my beard, I would look so cool. It adds texture and warmth to the look because there are multiple colors and shades going on. Alas, my head is mixed instead with a light salting of white hairs. Perhaps as I age the whole thing will turn into a red/brown-black/white kaleidoscope?

In semi-related news, my sister asked me last week if I wanted to be the "celebrant" (for lack of a better term) at her wedding this summer. She and her boo are getting legally married beforehand, but they want me to lead the ceremony for the friends/family! She said I have a good voice for it, and I could be "appropriately regal." Perhaps this summer I will grow a beard to look the part. It would be an appropriate time for it since I'll be living in my parents' house, so I will probably be removed from anything having to do with ladies. The only problem is that beards, especially new beards, can be warm and itchy. Not exactly ideal for the hot and humid Buffalo summer. Maybe Alice will move the wedding to the winter, to better suit my beard-needs.

2 posts in one day??!?!

2006-04-13T23:16:00.000-04:00

Before you read any further, take the following test. It's an interesting analysis of your style of humor.

TAKE THE TEST!

You didn't take it yet did you? You kept reading? See, I want you to take it first because I'm going to tell you what my result was, and I don't want you to be influenced by me.

So go ahead and CHECK IT.

Okay now that you've really done it*, this is what my answer was:
Your humor style:
CLEAN | COMPLEX | DARK

You like things edgy, subtle, and smart. I guess that means you're probably an intellectual, but don't take that to mean pretentious. You realize 'dumb' can be witty--after all isn't that the Simpsons' philosophy?--but rudeness for its own sake, 'gross-out' humor and most other things found in a fraternity leave you totally flat.

I guess you just have a more cerebral approach than most. You have the perfect mindset for a joke writer or staff writer.

Your sense of humor takes the most thought to appreciate, but it's also the best, in my opinion.

You probably loved the Office. If you don't know what I'm talking about, check it out here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/theoffice/.

PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Jon Stewart - Woody Allen - Ricky Gervais

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I'd say that's pretty close. People have often commented that when I'm in my element with my closest friends, conversation becomes a constant stream of allusion, wordplay, and stylized delivery that can be indecipherable to people without the same perspective. And by that I mean people who haven't taken in the same movies/books/cultural phenomena, who aren't verbally oriented enough to enjoy puns and interesting diction, and who don't learn by asking questions of their friends, only to turn their new knowledge into a joke later that year. Not to sound condescending, but I really enjoy a thickly verbal and perfectly executed random allusion. And while Family Guy quotes are often hilarious, nothing beats a reference to Chaucer that only three people in the group understand.

But I also lived in a fraternity house, albeit a smart one, and I enjoyed most of the goings-on. I DO think rudeness and vulgarity is inherently funny, and I'm proud to be "that guy" who will push the limit of what is acceptable to joke about (in the right company). Maybe the above style is still there, because it's all about the creative use of rudeness. Nothing is funnier than when you're thinking "I shouldn't be laughing at this" and you're laughing anyway. I guess it adds the element of laughing at yourself.

You and I, we'll get along, but if we trade our favorite books we'll get along better.

*PS- post your result from the humor test as a comment, I really want to see what the other results say. Also, I really want a comment.

Intense Dreams

2006-04-13T11:27:00.000-04:00

One of the things I look forward to every spring/summer is the day being longer. Now that we're well past the equinox, the sun comes up noticeably earlier and goes down quite a bit later. This combats the frustrating experience of going in to a meeting or rehearsal or something during the day (say, at 5pm) and coming out when it's dark (by like 6:30). On the other end of the day, it makes sunlight pour into my room in the morning, which is a great way to wake up. If my alarm goes off and it looks like it's morning, it's much easier for me to tell myself, "it's morning, time to get up!" and bound out of bed, fresh-faced and excited for a new day. Well, maybe not all that, but it sure beats leaving your house and thinking, "it's still nighttime and I should be asleep."

The second side effect of the morning sunlight happens when I don't have a specific reason to get up. The sunlight wakes some part of me up a bit and brings me into a very intense king of R.E.M. sleep. I'm fairly sure that's how it works. What I'm getting at is, the kinds of dreams I have on lazy summer mornings are unparalleled by almost any other experience of my life. Not only are all five senses fully engaged, but I get emotionally caught up in what's going on in the story. I often have the experience of waking up and not knowing where I am, or even WHO I am. For all intents and purposes what your brain experiences during such a dream is indistinguishable from reality. During most of the year I'd say I have one of these dreams about once a fortnight. During the spring and summer months, with their lazy mornings in sun-filled bedrooms, it happens frequently. Recently it's been every single morning; I'm not sure where I am and I feel as if I've been physically and emotionally ripped out of some situation. I kept a dream journal a few summers back and it was really fun. I'd start writing as soon as my eyes opened. I'd commonly get a page or two of really descriptive characters and settings, dialogue, plotlines, emotions and secret intents. Whole narratives would spit out of me every morning and I'd write them with as little non-dream thought as possible. When I'd look back there were bits of my waking life blended together with total fantasy, culling stories from every aspect of my imagination. The catch was that I could spend an hour every morning thinking and writing about my dreams. So the dream journal fell to morning productivity, but the dreams will probably never stop.

"Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives." - William Dement

This morning I woke up almost in tears because in my dream I'd been writing this beautiful song for a woman I was desperately in love with. The coolest part is I remembered a little of the song, and I went and figured it out with my trusty acoustic guitar. Now I wouldn't say it was as beautiful and life-changing as it felt in the dream, but the circumstances of it's composition are a bit different in this reality. I also found this written on the notepad next to my bed, "Now if there's one thing that a man hates, it's when something makes him stop." It's apparently from another reality-bending dream earlier in the morning, and I believe it was a joke told in a sort of Duke's of Hazard Narrator type of way. Good times!

So if you encounter me shortly after waking up in the morning, cut me some slack. I was just about to scream because I couldn't save the city, and now I'm in this bed and I can't remember my own name.

PhotoChicagop

2006-04-11T11:26:00.002-04:00

The other day I promised details on my second trip to Chicago within recent memory. (You may remember some posts from another trip I took last October.) My lady has been accepted to a few law schools, and this past weekend we went out to see what the Chicago-Kent School of Law had to offer that might draw her away from the higher-ranked Ohio State University Moritz College of Law (besides a better name and more attractive webpage). Her dad is one of those "travelling all-of-the-times businessmen" and he cashed in a few frequent flyer miles and hotel points, so I was lucky enough to tag along for free! Friday we walked around in Chicago, geting a famous deep-dish pizza before visiting Millennium Park and State Street. After a nice wine and cheese reception at the school we took a tip from another prospy and went to a fancy bar in the Signature Room in the John Hancock Building (a very tall and famous non-Sears Tower building). I guess the observation deck on the 94th floor costs about $10, but one floor up that $10 will get you the same view AND a really fancy drink. This is a blurry cell phone-camera picture of the view at night, showing the "Magnificent Mile" near the center and the spires of the Sears Tower far above the city towards the right. Click to make it bigger:

While Laura was busy doing law school stuff on Saturday, I went to the amazing Shedd Aquarium. Seriously, it was just about the coolest. Probably the #1 thing I'd recommend to any Chicago visitor (or native, for that matter). We met back up and went to the Sears Tower, which was as amazing as it was in October. It was a clear day so the visibility was about 30 miles. Wow. I took more pictures with my smell phone and made this using my very limited Photoshop abilities. (Again, click to see it full size):

I finished off the experience with an overpriced "Chicago-style" hotdog in the airport, and about 36 hours after we had left we were home. Next ChicaGoal: Experience Chicago in the summer when maybe the wind won't freeze your skin.

Q: What do I feed my new pet Jack?

2006-04-10T21:30:00.000-04:00

Feeding your new pet Jack is as easy as spending a few minutes in your local Giant Eagle. Jack likes a balance of novelty and familiarity, but is generally happy eating very simple food. If your Jack enjoys a particular dish, feed it to him as often as once a day. With only a tiny bit of variety Jack will stay interested in the simplest of foods, saving you shopping and preparation time. This omnivorous acceptance of most foods is part of what makes Jack one of the most popular and adaptable household pets.

Examples of foods that are good to feed your Jack are:
- Soups: Easy to pick out and prepare, Jack enjoys most soups, chili, gumbos, and the like.

- Sandwiches: Pick out a wheat bread (go for the one with the most slices/loaf/dollar for best cost-effectiveness), some lunchmeat, and cheese. Try ham and chedder or turkey and spicy pepperjack for a more flavorful treat.

- Mac & Cheese: The easiest meal. Any kind will do fabulously.

- Cereal: Probably Jack's favorite food is also the easiest to prepare. Have plenty of 1% milk handy because Jack is likely to eat a bowl of cereal at some point every day (usually in the morning). Anything with a decent fiber content will keep your Jack healthy, and once in a while surprise him with a sugary treat. Oatmeal is another good option, though a little less frequently chosen. Go for "real" oatmeal (not instant) and sweeten it up with some brown sugar or fruit slices.

- Salad: Though longer shopping and prep-time usually discourage salads from the menu, Jack is perfectly happy eating a salad for lunch, given that he has some Bleu Cheese or Ranch dressing. Bleu Cheese is always good to have around the house, as Jack will rarely take any other condiment with any hot or "Buffalo-related" foods.

- Fruit: Jack enjoys a variety of fruits, and these should be the most varied part of his diet. Get a bag of apples one week, bananas the next. Oranges, grapes, strawberries, and peaches are great choices, with tangerines being a favorite. If available, Jack will eat one or two pieces of fruit daily. If not available, he probably won't miss it. So always have some fruit on hand for a healthy snack.

- Yogurt: Similar to fruits, Jack will eat some kind of yogurt about once a day if it is available. Go for whatever is on sale unless it's some weird diet or no-fat yogurt imitation. Simple fruit flavors are favored over more exotic flavors like coffee or key lime. Recently YoCrunch has been a favorite, especially the Oreo flavor.

- Beer: Though Jack won't drink very much beer, it's good to have on hand for a bit of R&R after a long day. When out of the house jack will choose his own (usually leaning towards darker ales instead of pilsners or lagers, and occasionally indulging in a port or stout), but for the home try a mid-price Canadian beer like Molson Canadian or LaBatt Blue.

What to avoid: Jack will actually avoid eating most "junk food" unless he is really hungry or bored. This includes chips, candy, and pop/soda. Don't buy it and he won't eat it, saving you time and saving him empty calories.

That should be all you need to keep your pet Jack healthy and happy almost every day! Remember, Jack may not be culinarily adventurous, but he's very open to new ideas. So try anything! If he enjoys it (he'll make it quite clear by cleaning his plate), work your new discovery into the rotation. If you give him a standard basic diet from this list, and add some variety in dinners, Jack will remain a friendly and easily-cared-for addition to your family for years.

Chicago Whirlwind!

2006-04-09T00:10:00.000-04:00

I just went on a trip to Chicago that was as short as it was fun. ("Very" on both accounts.) Pictures and explanation to follow.

Bedtime Story

2006-04-05T23:33:00.000-04:00

Today I thought of like 4 great things that I should write about on here. Of course, I don't remember any of them, and now I'm too tired to think of anything else creative to say.

I will relate one quick story, which relates to me being so tired. Once upon a time my sister was washing the kitchen floor or the bathroom or something. When she was done she commented that even though she washed her hands, they still smelled like Pine Sol. Apparently my mom responded, "If you don't want them to smell like that for the rest of your life, then you should go to college." Now my sister was already planning on going to college, and certainly didn't need this mildly-threatening encouragement, but I guess the story stuck with me instead. And now I know why. I did go to college, a good one, and I got a good degree, but this week I have been experiencing the male version of "...and that's why you go to college." I've been working a temp job setting up for a conference and all I've been doing is getting ordered around to move heavy things. (Or, sometimes, boxes full of heavy things.) Every morning I've been waking up aching. Every night I've been crashing on my bed and passing out from physical exhaustion. Not in the good "I went on a long hike today" way. In the frustrating "I moved a bunch of shit, then I moved half of it back because someone changed their mind or got different orders." It is not satisfying AND it's painful.

But I already went to college. And there's the rub.

The end!
No moral.

Quick Nautical Knowledge

2006-04-03T23:49:00.001-04:00

Did you know that whistling at sea is bad luck? It is, and now you do. The reasons are many and varied, usually centering around the idea of not angering the god(s) of sea or wind, who may think you are whistling to challenge them and blow winds and storms back at you. A more culturally specific explanation is not wanting to wake Neptune who may disturb your voyage.

So next time you're out at sea, keep that whistling on lockdown.

My head a splode

2006-04-02T19:05:00.000-04:00

Last night I was watching TV with some buddies, and we came across this cartoon. It was on Cartoon Network late at night, there were dolphins and they mentioned "Sealab" so we assumed it was Sealab 2021. But there was something wrong. It was really awful, the "train wreck" kind of awful that you just can't turn away from. As we watched it I commented that the main hero looked like a young Chuck Norris. Then I noticed that the other characters were actually calling him "Chuck." What a coincidence! About 3/4 of the way through the villain Superninja (I told you it was really bad) yelled in his G.I. Joe villain knockoff voice "I'll finish Norris!" We were stunned. Somehow we had come across a cartoon actually starring Chuck Norris, ending with a live-action Norris giving an inspirational message about never giving up. It was such an indescribably bad/great/really, REALLY bad show. Then I remembered a friend of mine telling me about a short-lived Chuck-Norris-themed cartoon that he found via the internet. After a quick search on my own it turns out that others have had this revelation. The show only ran for 5 episodes, probably due to the awkward animation, the discontinuity-riddled plotlines, and the painful dialogue between the retarded stock characters. But luckily for us, someone was smart enough to put a clip on the interweb so we could all be amazed.

So I submit to you now: Chuck Norris: Karate Kommandos.

It was suggested that you take a shot every time the announcer says "Chuck Norris." That's nine times in one 1-minute intro! I guess the dude just really likes Chuck Norris.

8-bit truth

2006-03-30T18:57:00.000-05:00

on music!

on inevotable robot uprisings!

on national generalizations!

on indie rock snobs!

Today's blog entry brought to you by www.dieselsweeties.com in honor of my friend Kurt finishing his master's degree project of building a robotic dog! NEWS FLASH: It did not rampage and kill everyone in the room! Yet!

... or did it?

Snakes on a Plane!

2006-03-29T16:06:00.000-05:00

Okay so first of all, this is the first time I've ever put foreign "code" in my blog, which is I guess pretty exciting. Maybe I am learning! Now on to the good stuff...

If you haven't heard: SNAKES ON A PLANE! It's true, this is a real movie starring a real Samuel L. Jackson. It is about a terrorist or assassin or something who is trying to kill a witness, blah blah blah. I really enjoy the fact that this "teaser" trailer makes no attempt to justify why this shit is going down. It's not important, and you and I both know that. What is important is SNAKES ON A PLANE. You see, snakes are on this plane! I really can't say enough.

If you do a google search for "Snakes on a Plane" you come up with all kinds of things that are worth seeing. Seriously, just click down the page. I actually first heard of SoaP (as the "insiders" call it) through my future brother-in-law Morgan, who sent me the still-hilarious Overcompensating link (itself an offshoot of popular webcomic Wigu). It sums up the movie, and the reason people are getting so excited about it, so well. To paraphrase what one dude said on one of the links I clicked on, "You either get it or you don't." I suggest you DO because SNAKES ON A PLANE.

PS- The penultimate sentence is probably the most specific sentence I have ever written. It is surgically precise, balanced with a perfect lyrical beauty.

Change My Stride

2006-03-27T01:30:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I bought Tricky's 1996 album Pre-Millennium Tension and I listened to it while driving around today. The album anticipates a post-apocalyptic aesthetic with trembling beats, guarded whispers and shifty sideways glances. The whole album explores different aspects of this lonesome feeling, which made it an interesting soundtrack to my day. Since all my errands and outings were fairly nearby, I didn't spend very long in my car at once and thus it took me all day to listen through the album. From 9am until the following 1am a dude experiences a lot, feels a lot of different ways. It was a strange experience having PMT as my emotional soundingboard between my daily outings. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it was outright jolting (but in a quiet, anxious way). The album (and similarly, my day) hinged on the moment of clarity that is "Makes Me Wanna Die." Everything before track 5 anticipates it as everything after slides away. Indeed, the pure desolation of "Makes Me Wanna Die" and the creepy shuffling of "Christiansands" are enough to make the album worth owning. You may not find yourself reaching for it all that often, but when you need to it'll be the only thing that satisfies.

"when the bomb hits (what music will you look to for shelter?)
when the bomb hits (what music will you look to for shelter?)
when the bomb hits (what music will you look to for shelter?)
not that mine'll help ya" - Sage Francis

Something important

2006-03-25T12:26:00.000-05:00

I believe, with all my heart, that one should be able to purchase a satisfying lunch for $5 somewhere in every city in the world. This may well be one of those things that "dates" me when I am an old dude.

Back in my day, you could get a gyro sandwich, fries, and a pickle for $5!

Sounds good already.

Where has Jack been?

2006-03-21T10:57:00.001-05:00

I recently got back from a fantastic spring break adventure! Woo! Four of my friends and I drove from Cleveland to St. Louis (10 hours) to visit a friend, then east to Boulder, Colorado (14 hours) to visit another friend and hang out in the Rocky Mountains. While the Rockies may not have the most creative name, they are stunningly beautiful. We then drove back through St. Louis to get home, putting about 3000 miles on the car. And speaking of the car, in case you missed it, that's 5 dudes in one vehicle. A Toyota Camry to be exact which means not much room. However, we overcame the cramped space to have a fantastic time with many great discussions punctuated by delicious food, breathtaking scenery, and tasty and tipsifying micro-brews. One of our secrets: equal sharing of front-seat time. People were eager to drive 4-5 hours at a time just because it meant more leg room. A less intuitive secret: standup comedy on the iPod! It provided entertainment that we could all participate in without actually talking to each other, preventing boredom and/or getting on each other's nerves. Thank you David Cross, Mitch Hedberg, Dave Chappelle, Dane Cook, Bill Hicks, Jon Stewart, and George Carlin. To Richard Pryor: thanks for trying, but none of us were/are black dudes in the 70's so we found it difficult to relate. I will try again later when I am not self-conscious about the other people in the car not enjoying it.

Did you know?
- St. Louis has the coolest bar (Vienna Cafe) and the single coolest place (City Museum) that I've ever been! And that's in addition to the Anheuser-Busch Brewery/Headquarters and the St. Louis Gateway Arch. What a place it was!

- Colorado has more days of sunshine than any place I could imagine. Unless it is hardcore snowing it is clear and beautiful, thus the sunniness makes it not as cold as you would expect.

- People in Colorado love micro-brewery beers. Even the little suburb that our friend's uncle lived in had 3 microbrews! Yum!

- Elk don't give a crap if you drive your car right by/through their herd. We were like this close!

- Kansas is as flat and boring as any place ever possibly could be. Especially in winter, when there are no amber waves of grain, it is just miles of flat dirt until the horizon. I'm glad someone else wants to live there, because I sure as hell don't.

- Many "edgy" comedians like to make fun of church. I guess it is a slow-moving target, as are most gigantic institutions with really old rules (see: governments, fraternities, ethnic-groups). Everyone should be able to laugh at their group(s)'s idiosyncrasies without being offended! Hear that, Scientology?

Tattoos

2006-03-10T13:08:00.000-05:00

I think tattoos are pretty remarkable. I would not have thought of the idea myself, had I been raised in a world without tattoos. Basically I guess the idea is that they are like a scar, but it is ink that is scarring you. It is like taking your favorite peice of jewelry and wearing it forever, under your skin. WEIRD (but cool). Before you say anything, consider that you would be speaking to a computer screen and that I am unable to communicate with you via this medium. But while I am not into getting tattoos myself, I definitely enjoy them on other people.

white ninja: http://www.whiteninjacomics.com/comics/tattoo.shtml

Crisis in the bathroom

2006-03-08T16:43:00.000-05:00

I just had a weird self-referential thought.

I remember once describing a movie as "Good, better than I expected it to be!" My question is, was this a complement? I think I meant it as such, but basically I was saying that all I required was that it surpass my low expectations. Perhaps simply by saying that it was "better than I expected" I have ruined the credibility of my opinion (at least on this matter) by pointing out that I had a skewed perspective. I threw the standards of critical objectivity in my own face! OH NO WHAT HAVE I DONE?!!

PS- yes, this existential (yes?) crisis hit me while I was in the bathroom. I was washing my hands, thank you very much.

PPS- Incidentally, the movie I was referring to was Woody Allen's "Melinda and Melinda," which has an interesting premise. Perhaps you would enjoy hearing about it from someone else?