Katerfelto's Cat

2011-05-19T19:33:00.002-05:00

Many thanks to my friend, who made this for me.

Four Lions

2010-11-08T12:36:00.004-06:00

Yesterday I first learned about this movie, Four Lions, a film by Christopher Morris. Four Lions is a very funny, very human movie about something incredibly serious and terrifying: jihadi suicide bombers.

Even though it was just released to limited theaters in the US last Friday, I managed to track down a copy and watched it in its entirety. It's the story of five friends who embark on a quixotic journey to attack *something* for jihad. Four Lions is a deeply conflicted film, but remains, at its core, quintessentially human; it's full of human errors, failings, triumphs, love, family, and friendship. But it also simultaneously anti-jihaddist and dismissive of counterterrorism efforts. Structurally, it seems to follow the "Great Heist Gone Wrong" model with a fair amount of success. Not surprisingly, the movie is considered to be quite provocative and "controversial."

As someone who has watched many of these martyr videos for CPOST, it was fascinating to see what they got right and what they got wrong. It was light on ideology, but it was supposed to be. But it absolutely hit the nail on the head with the notion that absolutely everything must be documented by video. Which is perhaps contradictory for a religion that forbids drawn representations of the human figure. This is briefly addressed by the hapless Fessal (Adeel Akhtar) who often refuses to be on camera, and will only appear with a box over his head when he's professing ideology: "I'm not showing my image."

The main character, Omar (Riz Ahmed) has a particularly weird relationship with his wife and young son, and I'm not sure how accurate it is. My guess is that it's not at all accurate. Maybe predictably, the police are portrayed as the new generation of Keystone Cops, and Benedict Cumberbatch's brief turn as a negotiator is brilliant for his channeling of complete ineptitude.

But in the end, it is a movie about choices, and having ownership of your choice. And all the catastrophe a particular choice can bring.

And here's a clip. You'll see what I mean about the need to document everything. I've witnessed similar kinds of shots in many of the videos.

Be a scholar, scholar.

2010-07-15T14:37:00.003-05:00

The Old Spice Man is now done romancing the interwebs, and it's time for the parodies to begin!

I couldn't hope for anything more from one of the first to hit.

This dissertation is now diamonds!
Monocle smile!

Great Mysteries Answered (in a series)

2010-06-30T19:46:00.003-05:00

Electricity edition! From a Christian Science textbook published by Bob Jones University:

I like the use of the Psalm coupled with the picture of hairdrying. Makes me not want to ever try and hairdry again.
[via reddit]

Scientists are totally normal.

2010-06-27T10:11:00.007-05:00

A group of seventh graders visited Fermilab. Before they went, they drew pictures and wrote descriptions of who and what constitutes a scientist. After their visit, they drew new pictures that reflected their revised understanding of the science professional. Before their visit, a scientist's wardrobe consisted exclusively of lab coats. This was nearly unanimous. But after the visit, scientists are normal people! With families! And they take lots of vacations! They wear jeans!

However, some still think they are super-normal (but in a different way!) after the visit:

Judging from the before and after comments, however, it seems like the entire purpose of the trip was to emphasize the humanity of the scientist, contra the stereotype of the perfectly objective, almost robotic science practitioner. How very Bruno Latour of them? Take for instance the preternatural Marisa's "before," which the scientists themselves liked quite a lot and used on the homepage:

A scientist is hardworking, studious, detail-oriented, observant, intelligent, exacting, and patient. When I think of a scientist, I think of someone who sets out to find the facts without predetermining what the outcome is. During this process a scientist must be fair, honest and unbiased. A scientist must be exact by following all directions and recording every step and observation, so that the experiment can be reduplicated. He/she must check and double-check all of his/her work. A scientist is very important in our lives because all of the experiments he/she does in the lab can affect our health, environment, nutrition, and other aspects of our daily and future life.

But after?

Most people think of a scientist as a person who is nerdy, studious, scholarly, and a person who is devoted to her job and doesn't have much of a personality or isn't very interesting. This is a stereotype and today just proves that scientists have lives, interests, hobbies, families and friends. I find that scientists are very, very interesting

I'm sure that there's something very Phil Sci to say about all of this, but I don't really care. Except that I wonder if the kids are now a little less sure about the infallibility of science now that they've seen scientists fail at Frisbee.

[via reddit]

Hey There Keanu

2010-06-22T10:44:00.003-05:00

If you read reddit, you know that one of the most important, rewarding, and respected "things-to-do" is perfecting the Sad Keanu photoshop photobomb.

Now, it has been set to music by funnyordie, thereby instantly relegating Sad Keanu to past-meme status. But don't worry, Sad Keanu. My mom will find out about it in a year and feel bad for you.

Hey There, Keanu - watch more funny videos

Sadly, it looks like this was put together prior to the posting of my most favorite yet. [original]

Infinity. In Space.

2010-06-18T00:52:00.001-05:00

Check it out.

Funny 'cause it's true.

2010-06-07T14:52:00.001-05:00

Brilliant new ad campaign against Prop 8.
(Not entirely SFW.)

Great Mysteries Answered (in a series)

2010-06-01T11:33:00.003-05:00

WWNT (What Would Newton Think?)

[source]

iPad Magic

2010-05-31T13:33:00.002-05:00

Fascinating amalgam of video + iPad + magic. Can't create the illusion without all three. Neato.

[via thedailywh.at]

You're welcome.

2010-05-15T10:55:00.001-05:00

This guy's got it figured out.

2010-05-07T13:28:00.000-05:00

I'm not even going to try to explain how I found this - seeing as how in the past I've considered Twitter to be radioactive. The guy, Chris Freeland, apparently saw Rob and Kristen at O'Hare and surreptitiously took a picture of them. He is a self-professed "nerd" who works on BHL systems (Biodiversity Heritage Library).

But to my point, like Newsweek, maybe we in the academy have had it backwards.

OMG. My RPattz & KStew photo has been viewed 12,000 times! Going to tweet about Twilight every time I want ppl to know about science!

See? Backwards.

In other news, I'm addicted to Lindsay Lohan's crank tweets. I read them over my morning coffee. I have no idea what she's ever talking about, but I don't really care. I can't tell if she's enlightened or completely self-absorbed. Or if that's somehow one in the same thing. She reads like that koan: "What is the Buddha?" "Three pounds of flax!"

Just get away from my life...

2010-05-07T10:33:00.002-05:00

No, Sunstroke Project and Olia Tira from Moldova, I cannot. I love you too much. The bookies have you at 50:1 odds to win Eurovision, but you will prevail. How can you not, with your airstrip landing-lighted violin? I want to go there. Yes, my love for you might be evidence of my shallow heart, but how can something so shallow run so deep? There is no other time to making happiness. And I'm not lying. We do have a progressive future.

George W. Bush is teh LOLcats

2010-04-26T09:47:00.003-05:00

I don't like to be too political here, but after seeing the cover of GWB's new book last night, I've been totally amusing myself with its possibilities. Specifically, the book cover looks like the poster build from icanhascheezburger.com. You doubt? Check this out. I just can't decide if any other subtext is necessary, as it kind of speaks for itself.

LOLcat:

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Book:

C'mon. You have to admit it's a little amusing.

I'm so not good at this kind of stuff, but other options for the LOL-GWB Poster might be:

-Decision Points: Being the decider is hard. And pointy.

-Decision Points: "Thousand points of light?" No, Dad. It's teh thousands of points historians will use to condemn my presidency.

-Decision Points: A turdblossom has no corner.

-Decision Points: Veni, Vidi, Mission Accomplished. Or, Dick Cheney really does look like Darth Vader. Seriously, guys. It's spooky.

-Decision Points: When I pointedly decided to ignore New Orleans.

-Decision Points: Teh Strategery of Doom.

It's kind of fun. You try!

New Favorite

2010-04-24T02:03:00.002-05:00

I really think this post ties the whole blog together.

\

btw, this blog is apparently not in HD. Hence, the unfortunate video truncation. Lo siento. Working on it.

Unnecessary censor blur of the day

2010-04-20T12:35:00.003-05:00

[sigh.]

Actual "news" coverage from the San Antonio NBC affiliate.

The original painting can be found here.

Epistemic closure.

Why I'll never eat another octopus.

2010-04-20T12:06:00.002-05:00

After the unsettling video of an octopus carrying a coconut shell, and now the camera thief/spear swimming video below, I'm pretty ok with not ever eating octopus ever again. I know, maybe I should be all Richard Dawkins and measure the thickness of its myelinated nerves before passing judgment. But I also happen to think this octopus is pretty good with a joke. Kind of a deal breaker.

octopus steals my video camera and swims off with it (while it's Recording) from Victor Huang on Vimeo.

Drunk History of Nicholas Tesla

2010-04-08T10:55:00.001-05:00

By Duncan Trussell with John C. Reilly and Crispin Glover.

Help to Fund Cheese to Grass

2010-02-27T12:35:00.002-06:00

A new project from Milk Products Media needs your help. "Cheese to Grass," a full-length documentary, needs funding to complete the project. Todd Tue (and everyone at Milk Products) does a great job. Help them out! and you get nifty gifts, too!

Wow.

2010-02-07T14:49:00.001-06:00

Habermas On Twitter (but not really)

2010-01-31T14:00:00.007-06:00

and on Twitter where he takes on the expansion (and reduction) of the public sphere in a series of 140-character bursts.

It's true that the internet has reactivated the grass-roots of an egalitarian public sphere of writers and readers...It also counterbalances the deficits from the impersonal and asymmetrical character of broadcasting insofar as...it reintroduces deliberative elements in communication. Besides that, it can undermine the censorship of authoritarian regimes...But the rise of millions of fragmented discussions across the world tend instead to lead to fragmentation of audiences into isolated publics

Seriously, has anyone figured out how to properly cite Twitter? Because I'm totally using this quote somehow.

UPDATE: Apparently this is NOT Habermas. Much too good to be true. Habermas, it appears, doesn't exactly have a good grasp on the idea of the internet at all, seeing as how he mistook Twitter for his email account when asked about it. But good show, you Habermas-alike.

For Batty ...

2010-01-29T15:34:00.001-06:00

... who has probably already seen this.

Epic WIN.

2010-01-23T19:59:00.001-06:00

Milk Products Demo Reel

2010-01-23T10:12:00.005-06:00

Here's a new demo reel from the folks at Milk Products Media!

For Demonstration Purposes Only from Milk Products on Vimeo.

The genre of book trailers has undergone a revolution, with Milk Products at the forefront of the industry standard. For instance, the wonderful video shot, produced, and sung (he said he just made up the song as he was editing it) by my wonderful friend, Jon Stuyvesant for Sloane Crosley's "I was told there would be cake," has been mentioned by many to have raised the bar, garnering praise and recognition in Slate and the New York Times. Crosley's book has been picked up by HBO, I think in large part because the video made to promote it went viral.

The reel is great, but I have to draw your attention to 1:05 with my friend Jeff Hadick on the blow horn directing the Sap's video. Thanks Todd Tue. Your work is terrific and I am proud to know you guys.

But what do they do?

2010-01-21T11:15:00.009-06:00

Dr. HOOPER's FEMALE PILLS

The Efficacy of these PILLS is too universally known, to require further Recommendation; but as a Number of Complaints have been received from Persons who have been imposed upon by a counterfeited Sort(?) to the great Prejudice of their Health, the Publick are desired to take Notice, that the Directions on each Box of the genuine Pills are signed on the Outside with the Names of John, Joseph, and Benjamin Hooper, Sons of the late Doctor, and the present Proprietors, by whome these Pills are now prepared. And as their late Father did, so they do appoint Cluer Dicey and Co- and Francis Newberry, their Vendors of said Pills.

Cluer Dicy and Co. at Dr. Bateman's Warehouse, No. 10 in Bow Church Yard; and Francis Newberry at the only Warehouse for Dr. Jame's Powder, No. 45, at the East End of St. Paul's Church Yard, on the Coach-Way, five Doors from Chespside, London.

They are now sold, free from the Duty, Price, 1s. a Box, or 9s. a Dozen.*

I especially like the explanation of where to buy them. I hope that whatever these pills treat it's not lack of direction sense.

*St. James's Chronicle or the British Evening Post, Tuesday, October 12, 1784

NOTE: I couldn't leave well enough alone. Here's the first ad for them from 1743, or if not, then very close to it. I suspect it's the same given the mention of "Newberry" as a seller, the convoluted directions, and I found an announcement in the news for Dr. Hooper's (the "Man-Midwife") new pills for use "in the time of delivery" (General Evening Post, Saturday, July 30, 1743):

Daily Post, Wednesday, April 20, 1743.

I'll let you figure it out. Apparently, the pills cleanse the humours and/or treat "the scurvy" or something.

Everyone hates a Scorpio

2010-01-14T14:51:00.007-06:00

This of course, is not exactly true. I have many good friends who are Scorpios, and they are lovely people. But apparently, this "misconception" has centuries of support. Take, for example, this character study of Scorpios found in a book of "amusements" first published in 1784:

Those who are born under Scorpio, that is October, are spiteful and passionate, have good sense, but are deceitful in friendship; are much given to women, but are seldom happy in their connections; are like to have many children; impose on others; and often get imposed on themselves; and very impatient under affliction.

The text goes on to describe the qualities of all Zodiac signs (see below), saying that it's an amusing pastime to use these markers and guess your friend's signs or "those you pay court to," possibly suggesting that it's in your economic and personal interest to learn their meaning and value.

Therefore, to forecast for 2010, I think the use of astrological signs will make a comeback in business dealings and health care negotiations (if the hiring of Sarah Palin on FoxNews is any indicator of just how far the market value on reasoned intellect has fallen in the pursuit of money). So I invite you to please make use of the below classifications whenever they might come in handy.

"I really think we need to have an alternative to the public option."
"You're just saying that because you're a Pisces. Phlegmatic much?"
"Probably, but you're acting out on your Scorpio-rising, Sir."
"Touché."

Those who are born under Aries, that is in March, will be very active, and of a strong memory; fond of going up hills, and high places; wantonly inclined, and very merry, and not a little addicted to passion; if born of a Tuesday, will be great fighters, as that day is governed by Mars.

Those who are born under Taurus, that is in April, will be strong in the head; have commonly thick necks and broad shoulders; are great eaters; are liable to receive hurts in their heads and legs, and are seldom long lived.

Those born under Gemini, that is May, are mostly slender and delicate, subject to sickness, are of a mild disposition, and capable of true love and sincere friendship; but seldom live to be old: if born of a Sunday it promises they will be rich.

Those who are born under Cancer, that is June, are inclined to be short and corpulent, have a jumping gait when they walk, and are fond of the water, are subject to eruptions and chronic disorders; are generally very vicious in love.

Those born under Leo, that is July, will be bold and enterprising; likely to receive honours; are of a noble and generous disposition; have a great share of understanding, and are particularly happy in their friends.

Those who are born under Virgo, that is August, are of a sly and artful disposition; have little share of sense or address, and generally live single.

Those who are born under Scorpio, that is October, are spiteful and passionate, have good sense, but are deceitful in friendship; are much given to women, but are seldom happy in their connections; are like to have many children; impose on others; and often get imposed on themselves; and very impatient under affliction.

Those who are born under Sagittarius, that is November, will be meek, wise and discreet; rather grave than gay, fond of retirement; and sincere in love and friendship; often marry very young, have but few children; meet with many crosses in life; but commonly end their days in happiness.

Those born under Capricorn, that is December, will be great travelers, and go by sea to distant countries, be subject to many dangers, but will surmount them, and become wealthy and eminent.

Those born under Aquarius, that is January, are usually of a sweet and affable temper, and will be happy in great possessions; are kind to their friends; good-natured, agreeable, handsome, and very liberal in their favours: best in their loves, have many children, and live to a great age.

Those under Pisces, that is February, will get wealthy by trade, and merchandize abroad; are subject to cold disorders, and are of a phlegmatic constitution; live happy in the married state, and have many children, generally sons, who succeed to their father’s wealth and possessions.*

*Breslaw's Last Legacy, 1st ed. (London: for T. Moore, 1784), 19-22.

Finally.

2010-01-11T13:03:00.003-06:00

All in one place to satisfy my perverse desire for Facebook fontrum. Blërg.

see more funny facebook stuff!

The Dan Brown Paradigm

2009-11-25T09:34:00.008-06:00

So, I just finished the new Dan Brown book, The Lost Symbol. I thought it would be worthy of my procrastination needs, but not so much. If anything, about ten pages in, I was already looking for the formula, and was pleased that it hadn't completely manifested. Then, I turned the page. Yes, Brown has a (rather transparent) formula, which is ALL AROUND US, if we only know where to look. First, know that everything happens improbably within a 24hr time-frame.

1) Robert Langdon is awakened/interrupted by a phone call regarding a very respected friend/acquaintance and is needed immediately. He, specifically, is needed.

2) Langdon drops everything to go to some crazy-awesome historic landmark.

3) Finds out the respected friend/acquaintance is in terrible danger and/or dead.

4) Super law-enforcement official with seemingly supernatural law-powers presents him/herself as Langdon's skeptical foil who is only "trying to get to the bottom of this," but who actually has a hidden agenda.

5) Official tries to pick Langdon's brain regarding in-danger/dead friend/acquaintance.

6) But Langdon is only a [insert self-effacing adjective here] professor. From Harvard. (Here, I'm lost. With a handful of exceptions, I'm hard-pressed to think of an academic who is in any way modest, who doesn't jump at the chance to bloviate for hours on end, and who would in no way be alarmed at being viewed as an "expert" - rather, it would be expected.)

7) Now, enter very attractive and crazy-smart woman who is conveniently Langdon's age. (Or probably, Dan Brown's.) Oh, and she's somehow related to the in-danger/dead friend.

8) Further, enter an antagonist who is Langdon's opposite in every way: Masculine, prideful, super strong, murderous, irrational, and somehow a perversion of all that is holy and good. Or who is an emotional or physical "cripple."

9) Now, Langdon has a series of revelations that come "in a flash" that have to do with a secret organization that has some kind of conspiracy theory/controversy connected to it. Because of these insights, Langdon must now ESCAPE the evil clutches of the Official heading the investigation.

10) Lots of running with the lady-friend through all sorts of landmarks that no one gets to see. But trust Dan Brown: they're totally real.

11) At some point, Langdon and woman get help and refuge from an old man.

12) Art.

13) Code in Art.

14) Science is neat, too. (Read: Newton is God. Literally.)

15) Langdon in mortal danger. And he is very sleepy.

16) Langdon is made to realize that he and the Official are On The Same Side.

17) Langdon feels like an idiot. But this is because he is only an [self-effacing adjective] academic.

18) People shoot stuff.

19) Big smashy climax where the Biggest Secret In The World is (sort-of) revealed.

20) Langdon decides to take BSITW to grave. So now he is one of the chosen few who are "worthy" of having such knowledge. But he's just a [self-effacing adjective] professor, so it's totally ok, and not really that important.

33) Unsatisfying denouement. With lady-friend.

Gah.

For "The Wire" die-hards. 100 Quotes.

2009-11-22T11:23:00.003-06:00

Sadly, no Brother Mouzone. Boooo.

So I will supply some:

Brother Mouzone: You're the perfect bait. They will view you as conflicted, you're homophobia is so visceral.
Lamar: See that. I haven't even walked in the place yet and you're already calling me a c*cksucker.

*************
Brother Mouzone: Lamar, where's my Harper's?
Lamar: Say wha'?
Brother Mouzone: Harper's. The new issue.
Lamar: You didn't say that one. You said The New Republic, and Atlantic, and a new somethin' else.
Brother Mouzone: I did not forget to tell you Harper's. Every week I tell you the same shit, and every week you forget half of what I say.

*************

Brother Mouzone: Pellets in plastic. Rat shot. What you need to be concerned about is what's seated in the chamber now. A copper-jacketed hollow point 120 grain hot streak load of my own creation. So you need to think, for just a moment, and ask yourself "what do I have to do before this man raise up his gun again."

Medieval Helpdesk

2009-11-19T11:27:00.001-06:00

From Norway:

Twitter is only good...

2009-11-16T00:45:00.002-06:00

...when Stephen Fry Tweets.

Almost enough to make me subscribe. Almost.

I have been a huge fan for so long. Can't detail here. But to witness some lovely, click here.

Brilliance, Muppet-style.

2009-11-12T21:19:00.004-06:00

This might be a sign of intellectual and emotional reversion, but I think I actually understand the "meep".

And, I must say, I find a small bit of relief and comfort in that.

40 years of silliness

2009-10-21T22:54:00.003-05:00

On ifc this week is the premier of the documentary series about Monty Python: The Lawyer's Cut.

As a girl growing up in Iowa, Monty Python was a revelation. The doc is even better, and somewhat bitter-sweet.

But, I realized that the last reunion was on the very eve of the death of Graham Chapman, twenty years ago, for their 20th. It was released the day after he passed. Here's his Eulogy, as only Monty Python can do it. Pull up a box of Crunchy Frogs and enjoy.

The Day Will Come

2009-10-21T21:50:00.004-05:00

Soon. When this is happily banal and common-place, where no one stares, and no one cares. It will happen. But until then, we have a lot more PR to do.

In other news, I'm pretty sure that Ghost Hunters is totally fake. Bummer.

Kanye plays ugly.

2009-10-20T11:15:00.002-05:00

A new short film from Spike Jones, We Were Once A Fairytale. Which is actually a pretty brilliant little flick.

Boom shake shake shake the room

2009-10-19T19:15:00.002-05:00

All I need to say.

For your amusement, but seriously, when can we declare it a cult.

2009-09-27T20:07:00.007-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, I was working a very large banquet for some plumber's business organization. The topic was about growing their business using the internet. It was mildly interesting. It was only interesting because lately I've thought that for business purposes, Twitter might be ok, if its only purpose is to foment deceit. Indeed, that's the only good purpose I can think of for Twitter.

During this meeting, I was ostensibly bartending - one of my newest favorite and most fervent pursuits. (I now have specific requests for MY martini's - and specific ones in fact. They go by names. My "appletini" is quite a favorite, but a standard; my "Grandfather's Martini" outsells them all. The secret: coat the martini glass interior with vermouth before adding the *very gently shaken* mix.)

So, it was in this time-worn capacity that I encountered "the guy". A middle-aged, ripened-apple of a man, he approached the banquet bar with a mixture of flirtation and confidence. As in, we were in-confidence. This later trait probably had something to do with the fact that the speaker was still, indeed, speaking. I suppose because of the nature of the event, The Guy decided that he should speak in "whispers." This was distracting. To everyone. Even at times, the speaker.

But he had his attention trained specifically on me. Why I seem to attract a particular brand of crazy, I'll never know. Maybe they mistake the bland doe-eyes I affect at such events as susceptibility. Probably. Although, they don't know I was a pretty good character actress back in the day. And this training was probably the only thing that saved me.

Guy: [deep-throat whisper]: Hey there! Want to see something?

Me: Ummmm....

Guy: It's just a card! [chuckle]

Me: Ok.

[Covering the bottom half of a business card with his hand, Guy shows me the top half of a card that (somehow) predictably reads: "The wages of sin is" ... and pauses.]

Guy: What does that mean?

Me: [sigh] "The wages of sin is death."

Guy: [delighted] Yes!

Big Reveal:

[And then he flips it over.]

Card: "The Gift of God is Eternal" ...

Big Reveal:

Me: [Smiling, all doe-y eyed] Ah!

Guy: Pretty good, huh? Can I ask you something?

Me: [My stomach has now eaten itself. Here it comes.] Uhh...

Guy: Have you accepted Christ into your heart?

Me: Well, yes, I try every day to be a good person, to live by the tenth commandment, to do everything you do with a pure heart. [The trick with acting is to mix it with the genuine.]

Guy: [sees an opening - Gah!] Ah, to try is one thing, but have you accepted Christ into your heart? What does this card mean?

[This question creates a certain amount of anxiety for me. Either I do what I want and call him out, or I maintain the solemnity of the very expensive banquet and not engage in theological warfare, as much as I'd like to. I think back: to be an actress is to link the motivation for any expression or words with an emotional experience. I think back: Christ into my heart? I suppose I must have done so at some point in my storied conflict with organized religion. I think about the time I accidentally prayed to the Devil when I was seven when a local man had murdered and dismembered his wife and threw the awful garbage bags in the Mississippi, which amounted to nothing marvelous except land me in therapy for the first time in my life. I settle on Confirmation as my motivating force.]

Me: Yes, of course. [I feel a parrot at this point.] To accept Christ into your heart is to know everlasting forgiveness and eternal life. [Now I feel a little dirty. Even the words come out mechanically.]

Guy: [Looks a little strangely like a schoolteacher who is pleasantly surprised by his most (seemingly) dottered student. God, I'm good.] Why yes! To accept Christ into your heart is to have your past sins erased. God won't remember, [offhandedly] but you will remember. You are no longer a sinner, but only a Christian who sins.

[At this point, I finally get his drift. Shockingly, he is seemingly intimating that once you "accept Christ into your heart," you cannot do anything that is worthy of remorse, or apparently, eternal damnation. Because God won't care. You can be an effing securities bond trader and lose people 100,000 mortgages, you can cheat on your wife, you can (conceivably) have sex with your child, but it's all good because you have "accepted Christ into your heart." At this point, I start to feel the Valkyrie wings come out. No one wants the Valkyrie wings to come out. Seriously. Mercifully, some other plumber orders a beer. This breaks the tension.]

Me: I still think that good works count for something.

Guy: Oh yes! But once you've "accepted Christ into your heart," your good works only amount to spreading the Word!

[Now I just want to yell at the guy, because if there's anything I hate, it's a puerile proselytizer. Especially one that thinks that they can get away with anything *and* be both a blatant and surreptitious card-purveyor WITHOUT CONSCIOUS. And I'm pretty sure that he didn't know the 10th Commandment reference. Gah. Philistine.]

Me: [smiling blandly] Yes, of course.

Copperfield Sued for Sexual Assault

2009-08-20T10:00:00.005-05:00

Copperfield was sued in civil court on July 29th for sexual assault by the woman who claimed he assaulted her on his creepy private island (the one he also states is the location of the fountain of youth). No criminal charges have been filed.

Hey! Remember that time I tried to get Copperfield to grant access to his ridiculously selfish magic warehouse (i.e., the clearly misnamed "International Library and Museum of the Conjuring Arts" - hah) by trying to get a letter to him at a show in Waukegan? And was totally shot down by his handlers who told me to go to the "museum of magic?" Er, I thought that was the "International Library and Museum of the Conjuring Arts," Copperfield. This is the same warehouse the feds later raided and recovered lots of money and a chip from a video camera while investigating the same sexual assault claim referenced above. (gross.)

Memories.

History Matters

2009-08-14T09:56:00.004-05:00

I was going to entitle this post something hysterical like: What's wrong with America? At first, I got the answer to my own question, which was that we have the attention span of gnats, have a living memory of 48 hours, and things like America's Got Talent just makes the next 48 hours mind-numbingly tolerable for some around the "water cooler." Some might say that's the mark of a decadent society. But then I realized that I was falling into my own trap of hysterical question-asking. I'm going to chalk this up to watching too many clips of Glenn Beck on the Daily Show.

Here's a video of the winner of "Ukraine's Got Talent." All she needed was a light box and sand. The rest is history. (No, seriously. Not being hyperbolic. She depicts the German invasion of the Ukraine during WWII.)

stuff I think is neat

2009-08-06T22:22:00.004-05:00

So belated on this stuff, but I still think it's pretty great.

The Colbert Report

Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Movits! - Fel Del Av Gården Music Video

www.colbertnation.com

Colbert Report Full Episodes

Political Humor

Tasers

Never mind that Movits! looks like all of my relatives.

totally unrelated

makes me so happyy.

and even though it's an "a" list actor - still love. single camera - live.

overheard

2009-07-13T22:55:00.002-05:00

Adventures in waitressing #78:

a big table where the topic of conversation was strategerizing on how to ban pornography. Later, I was told that the head of the table was the reverend of one of SA's largest (baptist?) churches (unconfirmed, but he did look reverendy). To his credit, he has kind eyes, he said nothing during the conversation except to snort when his wife asked, "how can we eliminate pornography in our denomination?", and he tipped very well.

Quote of the Day

2009-07-07T14:20:00.003-05:00

From Mark Kline's recent post about Obama's apparent reticence on DADT, and Andrew Sullivan's ambivalence about O's seemingly laggardly approach to gay rights:

Whenver His Catholic Majesty Ferdinand of Aragon, most powerful and wise prince, was about to embark on some new enterprise, or make a decision of great importance, he went about it in such a way that, before his intentions were known, the whole court and the people were already insisting and exclaiming that the king must do such and so. Then he would announce his decision, just when all hoped and clamored for it.

I say that Andrew is ambivalent because he vacillates between outrage and intellectual resignation re: Obama's "two steps behind" methodology. But that's understandable; I often feel the same way.

Bill Maher doesn't get it.

2009-06-18T12:15:00.006-05:00

Bill Maher the other day made a big deal about Obama being on TV all the time. The Media fixates on this, because, ostensibly, they are complicit in the Obamaramathon. However, more interesting is Maher's charge that Obama isn't doing enough fast enough, and that Obama should take a page from Bush's playbook - i.e., push through everything and anything you can, and the consequences (and everyone else) be damned. Maher hired someone he thought had balls, goshdarnit!

He then proceeds to list off several ridiculous things that Bush did in fact push through. But, nearly everything that Maher listed off has been repealed, challenged, or overturned.

I suspect Obama is more audacious than we think.

Certainly, we are used to our chief executive pushing through bold (read: ridiculous) agendas. Maybe that's why Obama's soft power goes unappreciated. And a great example of this is the stuff going on in Iran. Here's a great link to how Obama's MO is to build support, and let the people do the leading.

Obama creates the conditions, lets the support build, and when it's sufficiently there he acts. Albeit modestly. I believe that instead of big changes that would be less of a sell to a group of people, he chooses to work incrementally, and keep up the pressure. This way, the support is there before he acts, and this allows the people to have ownership in his legislation. And that's legislation that will be harder to repeal. Let support build again, and repeat the process until we have real change.

It's kind of like the frog in the pot, but that's probably a bad analogy.

I think that we can see this most vigorously with gay rights. He kept silent on this, let the support (and indignation) build, and then he changed what he could within his purview - federal worker's partner benefits. Then, at the signing of the memo, he said that he would work to repeal DOMA, because DOMA gets in the way of what he ultimately wants to do. "These are the wrongs that we intend to right *today*." Why this isn't getting more air time or recognition, I don't know.

We can fault him for not doing more faster. But really, do we want permanent change? or change that will be flipped the moment there's someone new in office?

solidarity

2009-06-16T23:04:00.008-05:00

I've been glued to my computer and its various live blogs for the past 60 hours regarding the iran situation. I was interested in the run up, but more interested in the crazy outcome. So, my page has been turned green for the meantime in solidarity. However, I realize that this is not for the US, but for what the people of Iran want. Outcomes are outcomes, but I sincerely hope that less people get hurt and voices are heard. Regardless of politics, people should be heard.

Go here for Nico's liveblog, or here for Andrew's. Also, if you're on Twitter, or so inclined, search for #gr88 or #iranelection. Both reliable. Or just go here for everything. Perhaps too much.

And yes, I just said Twitter. As I said before, my hatred of Twitter will kick me in the ass, and today is that day.

By the way, Obama is right to proceed the way he has. Too perfectly explosive.

UPDATE: #iranelection better than #gr88 for news in Tehran. Because embedded bloggers post there more than the other. @persiankiwi is the best. I want his story after this is all over. Then @stopahmadi and @oxfordgirl. But persiankiwi is actually posting from the middle of Tehran, but not sure about the others. On cycles because he has rotating ISP's and commandeers DSL's when he can. Sea of Green.

UPDATE II: @persiankiwi no longer posting. but word has it that he/she is ok.

Green Day is Pop Punk Porn

2009-05-23T07:44:00.002-05:00

I love to watch Anthony Bourdain, the bad boy poet of the culinary world. He is caustic, but kind; transparent, not two dimensional; and reflective without succumbing to navel gazing. In perhaps my favorite episode, Bourdain goes to New Zealand. It opens with him giving a lecture to the kiwis wherein he decries the new brand of food network offerings that he labels "food porn." (My sister-in-law also uses this term for the Barefoot Contessa, living vicariously through the Contessa's excessive use of butter.) Bourdain bombs. Crickets. His prickly brand of humor doesn't play well to the ladies. Then, perhaps predictably, Bourdain goes on a culinary and cultural tour of NZ to get his groove back, and triumphantly returns to give another lecture where he kills it.

Bourdain is my food porn. He is an acquired taste, yes. But you have a pretty good idea of what you're going to get, regardless of the content, and it's always a guilty pleasure. His obsession with bacon also doesn't hurt.

This is how I feel about Green Day. I didn't really appreciate them when they first came on the scene, but they've grown on me. I love the (perhaps apocryphal) story of the American Idiot album where they had worked on it for two years, lost all the recordings, then faced with at two week drop-dead date, wrote an entire rock opera. They're good at what they do, and it's refreshing to see such focus in an age where electronic vocals are not used for artistic effect, but instead to hide poor ability. (Kanye, Kanye, Kanye... Who told you it was ok to sing songs outside your vocal range? You're doing it wrong.)

Green Day was on Colbert the other night. They played their new song, "Know Your Enemy," from 21st Century Breakdown. It's great. It sounds like every other Green Day song and I love it. I feel like I've been listening to this song for years - like it's been hovering forever in the Green Day ether and they just plucked it like an apple. They're tight, playful, and just plain fun to listen to. Pop Punk Porn.

The Colbert Report

Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Green Day - Know Your Enemy

colbertnation.com

Colbert Report Full Episodes

Political Humor

Gay Marriage

I only want to know: "How are you so awesome?"
(Fortunately, Joey's stopped with the guyliner. Probably dropped that as soon as douchey Pete Wentz thought it was a good idea.)

And, for a superhappyfuntime, watch Colbert interview them, then listen for the cookies in the performance.

Now, off to solve the problem of having Walmart be the only store in my immediate area that sells music.

OMGOMGOMG!!! Sherlock is back, b*tches.

2009-05-19T12:27:00.004-05:00

Yes, I have an obsession with all things Sherlock. This is why I'm over the moon about the RJD movie coming out this Christmas. I. Can't. Wait. RJD as a messy, depraved, quirky, crazy, SOB Holmes is about the best casting that could have ever occurred. Oh, and Jude Law as Watson is also rather inspired. And pretty to look at.

BTW, this is why Poe's Dupin never really took off. Who wants to see some dude sourly sitting in his pipesmoked cabbage of a room, playing the armchair detective from old news clippings when you can get this:

It's all about the character. OMGOMGOMG.

Watch this.

2009-05-18T16:08:00.001-05:00

Just found out this was out there:

Adventures in Texas 3.3.14

2009-05-06T15:09:00.009-05:00

Kevin: Hey, I saw you trying to fix your tire. You're on that blind turn there and I just called 911 'cause it's really not safe and I'm surprised someone hasn't crashed into you yet.

Me: Thanks. Yeah, it's been a crazy day.

Let me back up here a bit. So, today I was going to go to the archives in Austin. Finally. I know. Plenty of people will yell at me for not going to the archives in Austin, yet. It's Houdini's own collection for crying out loud. Houdini. But life gets in the way, and it has been a given that as soon as I schedule something with the archivist, then promptly life intervenes. One time it was Shaft and the vet, due to his diabetes. Then, my grandmother fell and I trucked over to Houston to help out. Now, today, I got a flat tire. But, I think some might agree, this story is more than simply that.

But today! On to the archives! What a way to reclaim my academic and life's purpose! On the road! So, I'm trucking along pretty well, and it's a short-ish drive - 1.25 hours. I'd called my sister to arrange lunch, but got her voice mail. Just past New Braunfels (pronounced: "New Bra'-Fulls." Heh heh.), I'm going along, and the car starts shaking uncontrollably. I take my hands off the wheel, foot off gas, and glide to the left-side of the road. For those of you not familiar with the Austin-San Antonio thoroughfare, it fluctuates between three and four lanes between the two towns. Awesome for driving, not so much for if you have a wheel blow off your tire and have to come to a sudden stop when you're in a four lane section.

After I pull over, I turn off the car. My phone is ringing and it's my sister, Megan. Megan asks me where I am. I tell her that I've just blown a tire and I'm on the left side of I-35. Then I look up - not two hundred yards away I see a sign for "Discount Tires." Of course, the exit is on the opposite side of the road, across four lanes of very speedy traffic. Megan, so savvy, looks up the number and I make contact with them:

Me: Hi, Um, I just blew a tire on 35 and I can see your sign from where I'm at. Do you have a towing service?

Guy: Oh, that sucks. We don't have a service, but, well, do you have a spare? Can you change that and get over to us?

Me: Yeah! Of Course! a Spare! Yes, I have one and I'll try to get over to you.

It's funny. When you're thrown into these kinds of situations, you really do sink to the level of your training. I, apparently, had not been trained well enough to know that I had a SPARE in my TRUNK.

So I get out the jack and the spare, very efficient. But it's incredibly nervewracking when Semis (who are not supposed to use the far left passing lane, BTW) speed by you at 80 mph when you're trying to change a flat, especially on a blind turn. First, I couldn't figure out how the jack worked - and I've used it before. Then I couldn't get the bolts to unloosen. This necessitated a call to Tim, who reminded me of that immemorial adage, "Righty Tighty, Lefty Loosey." Good work, Brain. Glad to see that you're on top of things.

I got things off, but the tire would not release. At this point, a good Samaritan car had pulled behind me, as you remember from above, his name was Kevin. (Not that I was entirely expecting someone to stop, but when you have a weird girl in flip flops and cargo pants jumping up and down on a crow bar obviously not doing that well, I thought I might have folks at least slow down to watch the show. But no. I guess, the blind turn comes into play here.)

So Kevin, in five minutes, re-jacks the car (which I had done very wrongly), and switches it to the spare. He also called the police, and the very awesome police-lady circled around, slowed down traffic, than I had a police escort to the Discount Tires. Seriously, how often do you get a police escort (if you're not running from something)? Sweet. Tim came up, and actually I think he was a little ticked off at having to drive 30 min. for a flat tire. But he was awesome. We went to Chili's for lunch. Not so bad. At least the economy has enforced smaller portions.

Discount Tires was great, and set me up with all new kicks. I've been told since living in Chicago that I needed new tires. It's my fault. I could have blown a tire coming down from Chicago. I could have blown it while night-driving back from Houston last weekend. But no, I had to blow it in the mid-morning while my sister was calling me, two hundred yards from a Discount Tires. Add to that good samaritan and police escort? Crazy. I thought I was cursed there for a while, until I understood the meaning of angels.

But this story continues. I'm sorry to give you denouement and then rip it away from you. But not really because this is kind of worth it.

Tim and I then drove home. In SA, right now, it is 97 degrees. It's very warm and my cats are little puddles of kitty. We have a pool in our complex and Tim and I have gone swimming nearly every day since it's gotten nice. Normally, we have maybe one or two people who are also out there - older folks biding time while doing their laundry. Also, I have this old one-piece bathing suit that doesn't fit me, but I keep wearing it because I'm terrified of bikinis. I have one, but I'm not excited about putting it on. (I do not mention this because of a whim or triviality. It is terribly important to this story.)

But it was very warm, and we needed some RnR after our adventures. So I finally broke down and put on the old two-piece, albeit very reluctantly. Winter bleh, argh. You know. We walk on over to the pool, and where one or two older people had been, three children and two moms were now occupying the pool. Not a big deal - we could swim in the deep end and do laps another day. Until. Until we noticed...

<*sigh*> One of the moms was one of the Muslim women from our apartment complex. I've noticed several women with hijabs around, but they tend to not want to talk to me - a fact I do not deem entirely shocking.

What to do. Her two sons were about 5 and 7. She was entirely covered, even while she was in the pool. I, on the other hand, was in a bikini. Ugh. Do we just walk away and let them think us rude, or do we just go in for a bit? It was awfully hot. We decided to go in. I didn't want her to think that we were shunning her and the kids, but I was not dressed for 5 yr old Muslim children who have only seen their mother entirely covered. This was bad.

Tim and I got in as quickly as possible, and trolled around the deep end, until I clung to the side, trying to be invisible. Then I hear: "Who's that girl? Let's have a race around the pool. Who's that girl?" Ugh. the five year old. I've corrupted Muslim children. On the one day I decide that the bikini might not be a terrible idea. This is so not good.

End sum, Tim and I slunk off after about five minutes in the pool only to regale ourselves with the absurdity of the situation for hours afterward. The women in the pool ignored us. Thankfully. (But can I say, regretfully? I so wanted to give the "so sorry" look to the mom, but now I feel sorry and depraved.) Then Tim went to work, and I'm about to take a nap. Tomorrow, another try at the archives, and no bikini's involved. But man, I love my new vanity tires.

Real Life: the twitisode

2009-05-03T12:44:00.001-05:00

Watch Real Life Twitter on CollegeHumor

Midgets vs. Mascots

2009-05-03T10:54:00.005-05:00

There's a new movie being released this weekend at Tribeca that's getting lots of buzz. Gary Coleman, the biggest name in the movie, refuses to see it and at every promo interview he strongly cautions anyone against seeing it either. And he fully admits that he did it just for the money, and that he's being paid to give interviews where he tells people they shouldn't see the movie. Hilarious. I especially like this quote:

"He knows as well as I do that I still have to pay my mortgage, and if I want to keep my land I have to do that. I took this job and I promote this film because they pay me. Not because I think it's a good film, and not because I'm in it."

Just offensive enough? Crosses the line?

Any how, click here for a trailer, and check out the one below.

The Musgrave Ritual

2009-05-02T16:36:00.005-05:00

Recently, I've been interposing work with Sherlock Holmes vignettes. I suppose it's better than continual surfing of celebrity gossip sites, but not entirely apart. For, as I remember someone saying once, it's all about the character. Sherlock Holmes stories were not successful because the mysteries were all that great - indeed, they were often quite limpid. But the character of Holmes was such that the audience fell in love with him, not exclusively how he solved the crime: the inner mental workings, yes, but especially the idiosyncratic flaws, and I'm not talking about his cocaine or morphine indulgences. This focus on the flawed persona is why "Monk" does so well. It's about the character and the mystery is ancillary. To this, I found the below passage recently, and it charms me immensely.

This is the opening paragraph from "The Musgrave Ritual," a later entry, which says to me that this paragraph serves more as a litany of peculiarities Doyle has concocted about Holmes over the years. Despite Doyle's wish to distance himself from Holmes, he did succeed in creating one of the most memorable and interesting characters in literature due to his care and attention to these "trifles."

An anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend Sherlock Holmes was that, although in his methods of thought he was the neatest and most methodical of mankind, and although also he affected a certain quiet primness of dress, he was none the less in his personal habits one of the most untidy men that ever drove a fellow-lodger to distraction. Not that I am in the least conventional in the respect myself. The rough-and-tumble work in Afghanistan, coming on the top of natural Bohemianism of disposition, has made me rather more lax than befits a medical man. But with me there is a limit, and when I find a man who keeps his cigars in the coal-shuttle, his tobacco in the toe end of a Persian slipper, and his unanswered correspondence transfixed by a jack-knife into the very centre of his wooden mantelpiece, then I begin to give myself virtuous airs. I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humours, would sit in an armchair with his hair-trigger and a hundred Boxer cartridges and proceed to adorn the opposite wall with a patriotic V. R. done in bullet-pocks, I felt strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our room was improved by it.

God is in the details. As is also the Devil.

Listen to This

2009-04-28T10:49:00.006-05:00

Once upon a time there was a guy from St. Louis who had the vision of Brian Wilson, possessed the staggering chops of Paul McCartney, and who understood musical complexities like Freddy Mercury. He also played fiddle at my wedding. Listen here for Kevin Buckley's latest masterpiece from his band Grace Basement, "Gunmetal Gray." Or go here.

Also doing an outstanding job in the outfit, Tim's former roommate Ben on guitar, and school buds Sean on drums and Mike on bass.

Bravissimi, my friends.

Hypothesis: Science always asks the important questions

2009-04-22T19:16:00.006-05:00

I think this has made rounds before, but now it has lovely orchestration. And I'm fairly certain that the "Bitches ain't shit" entry puts my 4th grade eyeball dissection to shame. As it should.

Pause as necessary. The titles are great, but it's really about the textual analysis, now isn't it?

Warning: NSFW. (And I mean you banana-condom-thingee that I only saw on the 3rd time watching it. Or the Man-Horse love item. Inappropriate.)

I hate Twitter so much of the day

2009-04-12T19:53:00.002-05:00

Twitter is from the Devil. I believe this. First, my interest in it was curiosity about the next social networking "tool". (Lovely word. Many connotations.) Then, I was repulsed by the notion, but still willing to give it some time to work itself out. Then, people I know and love got on Twitter. For all the right reasons. They want to communicate business info. I believe this is a noble pursuit. Twitter is not the way to do it. Here's why.

1) It's voyeuristic. People have really intimate knowledge of stupid stuff about your life that even your significant other doesn't want to know. But, apparently there are some creepy people out there who actually pay attention. You don't need these people.

1a) This creates a false sense of importance, like people are really interested in your own personal minutia. Really, they aren't; they just pretend they care so that you'll check out their own twitter feed. Or they're creeps. Who needs them.

1b) Twitter is for celebrities and wealthy individuals with iPhones who spend too much time in meetings or who need to market themselves. This then feeds the insecure persona that requires immediate ratification. Or, like people I care about, they've been told they need to do this because it's the "new thing." Stop it. The people who actually care about what you're doing will find you through the appropriate channels.

2) Suck it.

Here's the upshot:
1) Familiarity breeds contempt.
Even if you're only updating a couple of times a day, this still means that in other applications like facebook, my feed is populated by stuff I don't care about. When I see your face, I won't read it and sort of wish you'll go away.

2) Minutia does not equal content.
Yes, it's important to list things that you're doing and that are important to you. That's what RSS feeds and Blogs are for. People who care will subscribe or routinely check in. Use the announcement stuff for when it really matters. Not for every silly thing. I have friends who post pictures of their children every day on facebook. But that stuff actually matters.

3) You're not that important.
In this age of information, everyone thinks they're all that if they have some wicked ass picture or if someone actually comments on their status. Fact is, on Twitter, you can be a shiny-sparkly individual. Just like everyone else. Only they probably do it better. Leave some mystery, will ya? It's the only way you're going to get laid. Promise. (And I'm NOT talking to you, Twi-hards. Stay on Twitter and keep the hell away from me.)

4) When congress people start doing Twitter updates, Twitter has officially jumped the shark. Seriously. Stop it.
When the Daily Show lampoons you and when the co-founder, Biz Stone - What the hell kind of name is that? - shows up on the Colbert Report and looks like a total asshole with no business plan, "patient investors," and "trial revenue sources," it's fucked. Get. Out. Now.

I'm out. I have to change my status on my facebook page.

But here's something that might drive the point home. Hat tip to Batty.

Robert Pape on U.S. Foreign Policy

2009-03-09T14:29:00.004-05:00

Dr. Robert Pape is a professor in Political Science at the University of Chicago. I worked for him last year (and hopefully continuing) as a video editor for CPOST (Chicago Project on Security and Terrorism neé Chicago Project on Suicide Terrorism).

I have long wondered about Pape's thoughts regarding the Obama Administration and Foreign Policy as a whole.

Here is the answer.

In defense of Pork; Or, bacon needs no defense

2009-03-08T11:34:00.005-05:00

Observation: Since it really became an issue in the last election, everyone is worrying about "earmarks". Are they too weird (i.e., volcano monitoring or for beaver control. [heh heh. sorry.])? Unnecessary? Part of the process of doing business in Washington? Here's the definition and etymology of "earmark" from the OED.

1. A mark in the ear of a sheep or other animal, serving as a sign of ownership.
1523 FITZHERB. Husb. §52 Se that they [the sheep] be well marked, both eare-marke, pitche-marke, and radel-marke. 1681 Lond. Gaz. No. 1625/4 Lost..a White Mare..no Ear-mark. 1683 Col. Rec. Penn. I. 65 Punishmt for those yt shall presume to alter their Neighbours Eare or Brand Mark. 1725 BRADLEY Fam. Dict. II. s.v. Marking, Some mark them with Raddle and make Ear Marks.

2. transf. and fig. A ‘stamp’, mark of ownership, identifying mark.
1577-87 HARRISON in Holinshed Descr. Brit. xx. 115 This proverbe hath..been used as an eare marke of their dissimulation. 1622 R. HAWKINS Voy. S. Sea (1847) 67 We should see foure, five, and more, which had, as it were, our eare~marke; one hurt upon the backe, another neere the tayle, another about the fynnes. 1670 BROOKS Wks. (1867) VI. 99 God makes this the ear-mark of his people, that they are children that will not lie. 1672 MARVELL Reh. Transp. I. 151 Fanatick Money hath no Ear-mark. 1879 TROLLOPE Thackeray 201 His [Thackeray's] most besetting sin in style,{em}the little earmark by which he is most conspicuous.

3. The mark of teeth in the ear.
1837-40 HALIBURTON Clockm., They said it was a biter bit, and they came..to see which critter would get the ear-mark.

"Earmark," thus, has been in usage since the sixteenth century, and has mainly to do with animal husbandry. The irony. But also note that "earmark" as we use it to refer to special projects hidden in a bill is not one of the given definitions.

But we will use the colloquial definition as it applies to debates on Fox News. Yet, instead of worrying about how ridiculous an earmark is judged to be on the Ridiculous Scale (which, in Washington, is apparently a heady game), I argue that the end sum of earmarks in a crumbling economy is not what service they perform, or the outcome of research, but rather that they keep or put people to work. Whether it's volcano research, or building a monument, or building bridges to nowhere. In this currency based economy, the pin-point allocation of funds utilizes skilled labor at specific places on a map. This - at the bottom of it - puts food on the table and more money into a local economy.

Correct me if I'm wrong (Klio), but isn't this kind of localized project consistent with conservative doctrine? Local businesses and workers reap the benefits of earmarked monies. And local folks are requesting funds for these projects - Washington does not invent them. Certainly, conservatives might argue that they are reliant on the federal government to approve the funds. But isn't that why we have local and state representatives at the national level?

I'm not saying that scrutiny of earmarks isn't a worthy way to pass the time, especially to weigh them against the greatest possible good (whatever the hell that is). But this economic situation is not geographically isolated or restricted to a certain set of folks. It's personal. (I can say this because my highly skilled husband finally landed a job after 8 months of looking. In two different parts of the country.) In another time, we had the luxury of worrying about unnecessary projects. Even if they were local and personalized and "weird" to most eyes. But that time is not now. If earmarks have the ultimate effect of postponing the pain at one's dinner table for just a little while longer, then that, my friends, is the greater good.

Now if they'll only earmark a special allotment for research into performance magicians. You hearing this, Washington? You can totally sneak that into the stimulus package. Or put it in the Pentagon's budget. No one will know.

LOLcat(s) of the day

2009-03-03T09:29:00.006-06:00

Who says that cats aren't tuned into the latest workings of the Ivory Tower? Take that Stanley Fish. More pleeze. 'K thanx.

more animals

Find More Money!

2009-03-02T14:34:00.000-06:00

From Jeff Hadick and Todd Tue of Milk Products. Another winner!

FIND MORE MONEY!!!! - watch more funny videos

Observed

2009-03-01T10:18:00.001-06:00

Craigslist SA - TV-Radio-Video jobs

Need selective models for a one day shoot. Pay is $750...email me a picture of face shot and full body if interested....and i wiil send you more details

This is standard. I smell an open market.

Reinvention. (But now with 67% more hot sauce!)

2009-03-01T09:20:00.005-06:00

Now I've achieved the (clearly overrated status of) ABD, moved, gotten hitched, and somewhat recovered from two straight weeks of wacky, family-inspired delirium. It's been a mad ride, and I've loved every minute of it. Although, as Tim said to me the morning after the wedding, "What do we do now?"

So, it's a process of re-invention, Madonna-style. (Lace gloves are so 2008 retro.) What it does mean is that the production and research trains are back in full swing. I really hesitate to say "back to work," because that implies that I'd rather be eating bon-bons. Well, actually, in some cases that does still apply.

What I'd like to do is make this site slightly more of a clearing house for new information, sites, links and matters relating to production and/or magic. I find that I'm more reluctant to post when I'm trying to relate the personal. And how many times in the last month have I been asked whether I'm on Twitter? Baby steps. I just don't know if I have that many words in me. I think that Twitter is for people with Blackberrys who sit in too many meetings. I, on the other hand, just figured out how to text people on my phone. Which I do exclusively for Top Chef episodes. (New theory: Carla was totally set-up. It's a conspiracy.)

But to the production matters, I've made a short professional video for Tim's brother, who also introduced me to the incomparable Alan Weinkrantz, who in turn graciously introduced me to the San Antonio chapter of the Social Media Club. He's terrific, and I'm pleased to know him. And I'm trying to finish some DVD's for the Podumentaries from last Fall. (Curse you Final Cut and your "File Not Found" error!)

In research, I made a last ditch drop-off to the Harry Ransom Library in Austin for a dissertation research grant - 4:30 on the day it was due. (Then my car died again a few days later. At 4:00 on a Friday after dropping off Tim at the airport to fly to Vegas for his bachelor party. Another story for another time.) But I've made contact and I'm looking forward to digging into 31 linear feet of magician documents!

Lastly, a new Milk Products video is out. With the fabulous voice-over work of my partner in production and Guinness-induced crime, Blair Holmes. (Remember the story about the pole dancing class when we were trying to shoot a commercial? Priceless.) Enjoy.

Oh, and we're gardening again. It's February and we're growing tomatoes. And peppers. And peas and spinach and onions. Ha! And I baked bread yesterday. Ha Ha!

IllinoisMissouriTenneseeArkansasTexas

2009-02-05T09:38:00.003-06:00

I'm finally in San Antonio. And even better, my internet has been connected at last. Although I will admit to a certain amount of sadness to this. I've quite enjoyed being off the grid. I have come to enjoy silence. But it's fabulous to be here, and for all my wintery friends, it's totally 65 degrees right now. Bwahahahaha!

But here's the mother of all updates!

It all began two weeks ago Wednesday, the day that I successfully defended my proposal! Yay! Shockingly, it went quite well with minimal complication and most of my committee was there - Adrian, Bob and Bill. Sander couldn't call in, though, unfortunately. I would have loved to just hear his voice. But everyone seems pretty excited about it, and they all had great ideas of how to spice it up a bit.

Then, the next morning, my movers were supposed to arrive. I woke up at 6am to finish packing, but boy did I need more than the two hours I thought I would have. How did we get so much stuff? Gah. But fortunately, they hadn't officially booked me yet and so they switched the time to the afternoon, which took all afternoon considering the icey stairs that everyone fell down. I felt terrible about that. But at least it wasn't snowing. Then, as soon as the movers left, I went out to eat with my folks and the future in-laws. I didn't get to bed until after midnight.

Flash to 4am. I'm up and trying to pack my car. I had to leave some stuff behind, which if I can't fit it in, I don't need, right? I almost left my little tool box, nearly depleted of tools. But I found a wedge for it. And I certainly packed my awesome new Kitchen Aid because I didn't trust the movers with it, I love it too much. (THANK YOU BATTY!!!) But, at 6am with a trunk full of necessities, a giant plant, and three cats, I go to pick up my friend Julie, who is so awesome and great to offer to drive down with me. We planned to drive straight through - you know, to make it easier on the cats.

We hit the road. As we drove south on 57, I started getting a little teary. I will miss snow. But I suppose you only miss something once you realize that you don't have to deal with its pain-in-the-assness for any longer. Is it like Stockholm Syndrome? I don't know.

We make pretty good time, and thankfully, Julie can talk about stuff until the cows come home. (Note: ergo, cows must come home after 13 hours, because that's apparently Julie's limit to cogently converse. After that, it's just about pretty lights and stuff.)

It's funny, you think you're making good time, until you realize that Texas is one HellaBig State. About Texarkana my cats started making smells I'd never experienced before. They were in shock by this point, I think. I let them wander around the car in Little Rock, but they just nibbled on some food, no litter box, and no water. I'm not sure they slept. Around this time our GPS device goes out so Julie uses her cell phone for directions. We keep driving.

We hit Dallas around 8:30pm, and we're headed into the home stretch. Only four and a half hours to go. At this point, my shoulder muscles are locked, and I am singularly focused on the road - any distraction is potentially disastrous. We've been driving for 16 hours with a few breaks. At one point, going up an incline, I hear a sharp "BECAREFULBECAREFULBECAREFUL" in my ear and I take my foot off the gas and hover it over the break. As I go over the incline, unseen before, there is road construction, narrowing to one lane, traffic stopped. I brake. I pray thank you.

We get into the Austin suburbs, and I realize we need gas. So I stop and sit and my head starts swimming. It's midnight. I get out of the car and my legs immediately buckle beneath me with the weight of 1300 miles of road. I have trouble finding the gas tank. Julie gets me a red bull (my fifth of the day, and after three giant cups of coffee). I inhale this, hoping that my sheer force of will was not an illusion. We sit, and I ask Julie to drive.

Here we're about an hour away from San Antonio. Tim has been over at his brother's house with Phil and Suzanne celebrating our impending arrival. Julie takes over the wheel, but it's then we realize that she really doesn't know how to drive stick. I figure, it's ok. We have an hour to go. I can do this. My force of will is stronger than me.

We get back on the expressway. Suddenly, my car revs wildly. I smell smoke. Julie looks at my heater gauge and tells me to get off the road. We pull over at the nearest exit - two exits after the gas station - at what I like to call the Corner of Whataburger and IHOP. The car is smoking, and Julie calls her father. We both try to find numbers of road side assistance. Julie talks to the on-duty cop at the Whataburger about towing services. He's very helpful. My cats begin to dry heave. We look for options, and there aren't any. It's 1am.

About this time, a guy pulls up next to us and asks us if we need help. His name is Jeremy and his buddy is Tracy. Jeremy bears a close resemblance to my car mechanic cousin, and Tracy is a tall, lanky dude with long, curly black hair and glasses. Jeremy looks under the hood. Julie is suspicious, and hovers around them, giving them dark glances. I think they're just fine. Tracy says, "You seem to be handling this all pretty well." I say, "I don't know what else to do."

My radiator hose had burst, but at 1am on a Friday, there aren't any stores open, not even 24 hour ones. Jeremy says, "If only I had some pliers." I say, "I have pliers. Let me get my tool box." The tool box I almost had to leave behind. So, with half-assed pliers, and Jeremy's Swiss-Army blade, he fixes my hose, and fills my radiator back up with water. Tracy gives me his number just in case we need help again between there and San Antonio. They won't take any money.

We get back on the road, and I'm grateful for the two hours that I was able to stand and gulp in fresh air. I can do this. I'm completely awake, although my heel is beginning to hurt from pushing on the gas all day. Time seems to deliriously fly as we alternate between staring at the heater gauge and counting down each road sign to our exit. I pray a silent prayer over and over, reciting it like a mantra. We arrive in San Antonio about 3:15am. We find the place and Tim comes out to meet us. I am too tired to be joyful. Julie needs to catch a train back to Chicago at 6:30am. She is, as I can attest, a maniac. But she is the best, and I could not have made the trip without her. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.

So we stay up with her. The place is big, and gorgeous and cozy, and the cats all roll around on the floor and drink and eat. They are happy at last. We call Julie a cab and at 6am I finally get to go to bed. I've been up for 26 hours on four hours of sleep, and apparently I have dark eye circles that extend back to my ears. I sleep for two days.

And then the movers came, and we've been having a great time setting everything up. The cats love not having to spend all their time huddled around my one heater, and I loved putting away the parka. We even have a small patio with a huge privacy fence so the cats can go outside without me worrying that they'll get away. We've taken care of lots of wedding stuff, and I can't believe it's only two weeks away. Guess I'd better start dieting and stuff because that's what I'm supposed to do? Last Monday I drove to Austin and dropped off a fellowship application for the Harry Ransom, and I did not stop at the Corner of Whataburger and IHOP.

Casa de Leon

2008-12-16T11:24:00.006-06:00

Back in 2004, I worked as a PA for a group out of LA filming a pilot for Court TV. The pilot went absolutely nowhere as far as I know, but I don't have cable. That day we got done early and the camera needed to be returned, but we had it checked out for an extra day. The field producer, Ari, handed me a miniDV tape and told me to experiment with the camera and to return it the next morning.

As it was the weekend, the neighbor's taco stand was in full swing. So I started shooting. I'd never seen the footage until yesterday, as I didn't have the time or the equipment. I sat down and uploaded the tape, and edited it a bit. This is the product of that effort. Remember, this is the first time I ever worked a pro-video camera. Oh, the tragic headroom!! And no idea where the manual f-stop is!! Oh, the (non)white balance! [shudder]

Poignantly, my neighbor Marcos who passed away last summer is prominent in the footage, and this is really made to be a tribute for the family.

rough draft

2008-12-15T22:19:00.004-06:00

more info later...

Best. Day. Ever.

2008-12-05T19:40:00.003-06:00

It was a great day. It was long, but terrific. And the best part is that Batty gave me an awesome gift. Settlers of Catan. I hadn't heard about it until last summer, but it's super sweet. I want to play it again and again. And even better, Bob, the professed deutche-file, didn't know about it either. We're going to break it out soon. But not soon enough! I love that game.

The Pentagon presentation went well. They give us peanuts, relatively speaking, but it was good, and I got in my crazy talk about the video project (Also titled: "I'm sorry. But production stuff takes time.")

By the way, Obama's push for a surge into Afghanistan is a terrible idea if we want to curtail suicide violence (read: attacks against security forces). Just saying. Seriously, and read it here: If we up troops in Afghanistan, especially in the Southeast* along the Pakistani boarder, we're going to have an uptick in suicide violence by the Taliban. That's just reading between Robert Pape's lines (it's his project). Suicide violence has been increasing steadily after the latest push into the Kandahar Provence in 2006-07. It will continue exponentially until the province is perceived by the people who live there to be a sovereign territory. Then, the well for volunteers will dry up. Dry up.

Then, off to scotch and a lovely time with friends. I haven't had scotch in years, but good scotch is GOOD SCOTCH. And I should know, because I bought that bottle of 15 yr Glendronach.

In short, best day because it was filled with Completion and Good Friends. Both of which are life affirming. Also, podcast taping is done. Done I say!

*This originally read "West". Did you know I still have to check my thumb/index to play "which one is the 'el'"?.

McDonalds is awesome.

2008-12-02T21:49:00.005-06:00

I don't go to fast food restaurants ever. I really don't. I'm usually too lazy, but more than this, I forget to eat a lot. It's a bad thing. But today I was going to splurge.

So, it was the last day of taping for podcasts (woohoo!) and then after that I had a two hour meeting about this Navy (Pentagon) thing on Friday. I didn't get home until around 8:30, but on my way home, I totally got McDonalds. This shouldn't be a surprise to some, as I was talking about it ALL DAY: My date with McDonald's.*

First, drive-throughs are weird. Even after 8pm and probably before 11pm on a Tuesday. I generally eschew them because they're so weird. I like to talk to people even though it's completely obvious that they'd rather be Anywhere Else. Drive-throughs are weird because you order ridiculous food from a disembodied voice, then pay someone who'd rather be talking on their cell phone, and then you pick up food from a harried-looking person who would also like to be talking on their cell phone. But when I finally reached for the food from my harried-looking person, the great part was her smile. I was a smile that you don't get very often from fast food purveyors. It was the Surprised Smile. It was the smile you get when they're distracted, but then they realize that someone (you) is smiling at them because you're about to get delicious food, and now they think it's neat too. Or maybe their shift is up in 15min. Whatever.

It reminds me of that wonderful section in the late, great David Foster Wallace's essay in the Atlantic, "A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again" (aka "Shipping Out") about being on a cruise. If you're familiar with the DFW, you know that all the good stuff is in his copious footnotes (and hats to Wikipedia for actually posting this gem - why is it so hard to find him on-line?!? [shakes fist]). And yes, this is a totally gratuitous way of posting this particular section. He might agree with me about the "surprised smile." But he would write about it ever so much better.

"... advertisement that pretends to be art is, at absolute best, like somebody who smiles warmly at you only because he wants something from you. This is dishonest, but what's sinister is the cumulative effect that such dishonesty has on us: since it offers a perfect facsimile or simulacrum of goodwill without goodwill's real spirit, it messes with our heads and eventually starts upping our defenses even in cases of genuine smiles and real art and true goodwill. It makes us feel confused and lonely and impotent and angry and scared. It causes despair.[Note 1]

Note 1: This is related to the phenomenon of the Professional Smile, a national pandemic in the service industry; and no place in my experience have I been on the receiving end of as many Professional Smiles as I am on the Nadir: maitre d's, Chief Stewards, Hotel Managers' minions, Cruise Director -- their PS's all come on like switches at my approach. But also back at land at banks, restaurants, airline ticket counters, on and on. You know this smile: the strenuous contraction of circumoral fascia with incomplete zygomatic involvement, the smile that doesn't quite reach the smiler's eyes and that signifies nothing more than a calculated attempt to advance the smiler's own interests by pretending to like the smilee. Why do employers and supervisors force professional service people to broadcast the Professional Smile? Am I the only consumer in whom high doses of such a smile produce despair?
Who do they think is fooled by the Professional Smile?

And yet the Professional Smile's absence now also causes despair. Anybody who has ever bought a pack of gum at a Manhattan cigar store or asked for something to be stamped FRAGILE at a Chicago post office or tried to obtain a glass of water from a South Boston waitress knows well the soul-crushing effect of a service workers scowl, ie. the humiliation and resentment of being denied the Professional Smile. And the Professional Smile has by now skewed even my resentment at the dreaded Professional Scowl: I walk away from the Manhattan tobacconist resenting not the counterman's character or absence of good will but his lack of professionalism in denying me the Smile. What a fucking mess."
(Wallace, 1997. p. 289)

*Yep, I totally got a Big Mac and fries, and 6(!) pieces of the Chicken McNugget(TM) which are way better than I remember as a kid. Which is weird, because the Big Mac totally isn't.

I'm going to give a talk to the Navy

2008-11-25T20:13:00.003-06:00

Mostly, I'm concerned about whether I should wear an assortment of tassels.

Podumentaries

2008-11-21T09:56:00.004-06:00

Here are links for the podcasts that I produced for this quarter. More will come up as soon as I get them edited and uploaded to the server. The cool thing is that the Darwin course podcasts have been linked to the Darwin Conference 2009 website. Apparently, there have already been requests for DVD's. That's nice.

Podcasts for Darwin and Science, Culture and Society

Here are the Darwin Links.

Hilariously, the page says that the podcasts will be up within 5 days of the class. If I learn to edit while sleeping, that might become a reality.

The good news is that, with the holiday and the end of the quarter approaching, I only have two more full days of shooting. I need a nap. Maybe I'll post other great stories about my adventures in podcasting, but for now, just bask in the Bob. Bob is an Experience.

I'm a lousy "blogger"

2008-11-21T09:36:00.003-06:00

Indeed, I cannot match Andrew Sullivan at the Atlantic. This is shamefully true. The man is a blogging machine. Nor do my blogs provide witty insight to the banal, and they certainly lack perspectival acumen. Absolutely - I could say I planned it this way, but I'm not that smart.

Instead, I've been really busy, and didn't have much to show for it until now. First off, the big news: Tim and I are engaged (for those not yet in the know), and we're moving to San Antonio in a month or so. It really has been a Universe-kick-in-the-pants kind of decision.

To this, we're getting married in San Antonio so that my grandparents who live in Houston can come. It was supposed to be in Galveston until Ike decided it didn't like it so much. Secondly, Tim's brother is a pillar of the community down there, and Tim will have lots of contacts in his ongoing quest for a job (Chicago economy sucks right now). Thirdly, my archives are in Austin - the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center - and my sister works at the University of Texas. It's an hour away.

But, outside of the realm of the personal, I've been directing and producing podcasts for Bob Richards at Chicago this Fall. It's been insane, and I'm pretty exhausted. For instance, yesterday I was talking to one of the course assistants about the camera, and realized that she was looking at me pretty funnily. Here's some dialogue:

Me: So, Cate, here's something I wanted to show you about the camera.

Cate: (Looks up, startled.) What? (Look turns slightly wide-eyed.)

Me: About the camera, there's this external power ... what? Am I acting crazy again? I am, aren't I. I'm sorry. I'm acting crazy.

Cate: (Smiles.)

Me: I'm sorry. I'm crazy. Am I acting crazy?

Cate: I'm not going to answer that question.

Me: *sigh*

Insanity aside, next up I'll post links for the podcasts that I've been working on. Or, as I like to call them - "podumentaries". Bob likes "Docucasts", but I think "podumentaries" is more fun to say.

Palin is the gift that keeps on giving

2008-10-31T13:13:00.001-05:00

Happy Halloween!

Brought to you by Some Guy With a Website.

Somthin'stan

2008-10-22T15:28:00.002-05:00

You can't hide from me, librul media!

Go here for election fun!

DdlM-now with better compression

2008-10-14T09:18:00.002-05:00

I've been told that my particular export choice below makes viewing Dia de los Muertos a bit sluggish. So, I'm attempting to use my new fancy software to make it all speedy and stuff. For those just arriving, look to the below post for caveats, explanations and apologies. And let me know if this works better or worse. I'm certainly not an expert. Yet.

NOTE: took too long to upload. will try again later. :(

Dia de los Muertos

2008-10-11T10:58:00.004-05:00

I finally broke down and purchased the computer and software I need to become that great independent director I always wanted to be.

Ok, so I really never wanted to be a great director, or even an indy filmmaker until relatively recently, but I do really want to be fairly lazy. By which I mean, I don't want to drive to campus every day and walk a million miles to school because parking is terrible, only to find out that there are "issues" with the computers in the library and I can't get on. This has become problematic with the podcasting I'm doing this fall, and there really aren't enough hours in the day.

Anyhow, I finally bought my sweet-ass computer and all the fancy software to work from home. It's pretty great. And the first thing I worked on (to try everything out, obviously) was the old movie from last year, Dia de los Muertos. You remember: my terrible attempt at stop motion animation with a skeleton puppet?

[See if you can locate R. Batty lurking about.]

And for those of you who say: "This is terrible filmmaking. How in the hell did they even let you near a camera??"

I say, You're Right. It is terrible filmmaking (on a Bolex, with 16mm film, thanks, and I didn't use a filter for the outside shots because I wanted them to go blue, and yes I realize *now* that the sight guard was open the whole time, but actually it worked out because the f-stop was totally open and it's still pretty dark), but it's my first attempt to do anything film/video related. Ever.

And Batty put me in my place about wanting to use my new fancy software to do fancy editing. I have not gone George Lucas on this. I am reproducing it in its entirety (but now with fun titles and music!).

Phil orals passed-whew

2008-09-25T22:18:00.003-05:00

And I didn't even need to pull out the blue laws. But I'll keep those in my hip pocket. Now just the proposal defense, but I need to situate the podcast for the Very Important Professor who talks about Very Important Things, first.

But to your great relief (but who knows) I no longer have a reason to procrastinate and obsess over politics.

Greetings Dearest from Henrik Paulson

2008-09-23T09:52:00.002-05:00

Floating around the web this morning, an urgent letter from someone in desperate need. It demands your immediate attention:

From: Minister of Treasury Paulson
Sent: Tuesday, September 23, 2008 9:27am
To: Undisclosed-recipient
Subject: FW: Urgent Request
Dear American:
I need to ask you much urgent support to a secret business relationship with a transfer of funds of grate magnitute. I am Ministry of the Treasury of the Republic of America. My country has had crisis that has caused the need for large transfer of funds of US700 billion $. If you would kindly assist to me in this transfer, it would be most profitable to you.
I am working with Mr. Phillip Gramm, former Senator of the American States government, who will be my replacement as Ministry of the Treasury in January. As a dignitary leader, you may know him as supreme leader of the American banking deregulation movement in the 1990s. This transactin is 100% safe!
This is a matter of great urgent. We need a blank check. We need the funds as quickly as possible. We cannot directly transfer these funds in the names of our close friends because of the goverment being runned by our opponence. My family lawyer advised me that I should look for a reliable and trustworthy person who will be next of kin so the funds can transferred.
Please reply with all of your bank account, IRA and college fund account numbers and those of your children and grandchildren to wallstreetbailout@treasury.gov so that we may transfer your commission for this transaction. After I receive that information, I will respond with detail informasion about safeguards that will be established for your kindly protection.
Yours Faithfully in SErvice,
Minister of Treasury Henrik Paulson

Reminds me of a letter I received just yesterday from a Miss Faith Gaba, resident of the Ivory Coast. Who had a Japanese email address, and an ad tag telling me where I could get the latest info on Japanese baseball players. Weird, but whatever.

But actually, "her" "plan" seems more comprehensive and thought out, somehow. At least I'd be getting back 20% for my troubles.

Hi. My name is Dragonslayer. I'm a political junkie.

2008-09-20T12:22:00.014-05:00

Well, it's finally happened. I'm now a political blogger (Starting in three, two, one...)

I should be studying for orals, and I'm actually slightly disappointed that no one yet has called me out on all the terrible philosophic offenses I perpetrated in the preceding column. But, actually, I'm not studying right now, and the reason is that I can't stop reading about politics. It's compulsive. Instead of preparing to discuss William James' notion of "Realism" (whatever that is) I've been mucking about in the simulacrum of American politics.

You know, I used to think that I was the American Everyman. Like I was some bellwether of Conventional Wisdom. In the past few weeks (amplified by procrastination), I have decided that I am most certainly not. Reason - I think I care a little too much. About procrastinating, that is. (aren't american workers the fundamentals of america? Americanly?)

Even though I admit to a decidedly left-of-center slant, I'd also like to think that I'm fully cognizant of my candidates flaws, and I admit to a certain amount of glee in his opponents missteps of the last week. But Above All I'd like to say to my immediate friends who think all is lost, to take hope. (Take it. Really. Seriously, take it.)

Here are my impressions of the last couple of weeks.

Obama had a steady (albeit marginal) lead prior to the Democratic Convention. His speech was terrific, and even Pat Buchanan loved it.

But the next day the Palin storm hit, and all of us were thrust into deep despair and hand-wringing over a conservative babe (which I can say, because Rush said it first, and not it's totally not sexist because conservatives can say anything they want to about law enforcement harassing, aerial wolf hunting, pot smoking [which is actually fine with me, if you like to do that sort of thing, and it was technically legal in Alaska at the time], liars - oh, I'm sorry, do I go too far?).

Then journalists started doing their job (after falling off the Straight Talk Express, of course), and the economy has spiraled out of control. People don't seem to worry about lipstick or other trivialities when they're focusing on whether their retirement savings at Lehman's actually still exist.

Even conservative pundits are no longer on board.

Here's the good news. The MSM is finally calling them out, and polls are shifting back - in some cases, swinging farther than where they were prior to the DNC.

But ultimately, country-wide polls don't tell us much, and instead it remains a state by state electoral showdown. Or if you're into betting.

And perhaps as sign of the apocalypse, even Fox News and the WSJ have begun a critical examination of the Palin-McCain ticket. (and also see here for WSJ detailed explication of Palin earmarks.) Perhaps that meeting Barack had with Rupert Murdoch had something to do with this. From the 9/3/08 Guardian, which pre-dates the above links:

"Murdoch is strongly, if not firmly, in the Obama camp. How that plays out on Fox is another question," Wolff said yesterday. "He actually has relatively little ability to affect what's on Fox, assuming he doesn't want to fire Roger Ailes, which I don't think he does. But I do think he would prefer him to be a little less unreconstructed."

(Roger Ailes is the President of Fox News Channel and Chairman of the Fox Television Stations Group.)

See? Warm fuzzies people. McCain seems to have shot himself in the foot with his exclusion of the media, his floundering and missteps in the last week regarding the economy, and the increasingly recognized poor choice of Palin (where oh where are you now, Mitt?).

Seriously. I've GOT to get back to studying...
(But up next, what Obama's finally doing right.)

UPDATE: Although Murdoch is doing what he can to muddy the waters. Makes for a better race (read: Higher Ratings) if it's perceived as a "close one."

Fishing from a giraffe

2008-09-16T12:14:00.003-05:00

So I'm really honestly and truly studying for my philosophy of science orals. It takes place next week. I'm studying very hard, but philosophy makes my brain melt, and my thoughts wander.

In this spirit, I thought I'd share a commentary that I developed today in answer to a question about Hacking's Dynamic Nominalism vs. Social Construction. Please note, I probably will not answer my question like this, but who knows.

The naming of (Hacking's) Kinds or the idea of "social construction" both have a bit in common with outdated, and often ignored "blue laws" - laws that are now considered "weird", but they were created for a reason that was deemed important at the time. (By this, I don't mean Hacking's Kinds or Social Construction are themselves blue laws, but rather, I mean that the "objects" of their "processes" can be correlated to blue laws.) For instance, in Chicago, it is forbidden to fish while sitting on a giraffe’s neck. Why was this law created? There must have been a reason at the time to codify this behavior. Another Chicago law states that in the Pullman area, it is illegal to drink beer out of a bucket while sitting on the curb. While the fishing on a giraffe seems out there, drinking out of a bucket while sitting on the curb somehow seems understandable, even something fun to do if you like drinking beer out of a bucket outside on the street and you get tired and need to sit. I sort of see the dangers of fishing from a giraffe, but I also can imagine the problems that could arise by both sitting on a curb or drinking beer out of a bucket. Both actions themselves could be seen as unseemly, even a little greedy. Both actions at once doubly so. (Which also raises questions whether simply drinking beer out of a bucket whilst standing, or sitting on a curb sipping tea, would be ok.) But fishing from a giraffe just seems opportunistic. Why make it illegal?

With both of these blue laws, someone in the past must have been doing something that directly correlated with these actions, and these actions were deemed either 1) dangerous or 2) inflicted on the life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness of fellow citizens. Or, 3) both. Regardless, these laws created a “kind” of people: Giraffe Fishers and Beer-bucket Curb-sitters. It would seem that as laws are grantedly social in nature and origin, then these new kinds would be “interactive” by Hacking’s definition, thus his “looping effect” (given his adherence to dynamic nominalism) would indicate that a Beer-bucket Curb-sitter would have to internalize this new legally reified definition; this then reflects back on the definition of a Beer-bucket Curb-sitter, which now has a bona-fide face to go with that definition, thus creating adjustments in the definition that then are internalized by the same and future Beer-bucket Curb-sitters, and so on. (And by internalize, I mean probably be sent to the drunk tank and given some sort of mark on your record, which would be there forever, and you’d be known as the Beer-bucket Curb-sitting guy, and most of your friends would give you high-fives, while your wife would cringe every time you told the story over Thanksgiving dinner – thus, you would gain status and distinction: which, admittedly, might be qualified as a “good” or “bad” status or distinction. But if I was a Giraffe Fisher, I’d just be effing proud of that.)

Continuing (and here’s where you’ll note that I get out of my league), we can parallel these blue law examples against designations and kinds that used to exist in the common scientific vernacular – such as hysteria as a medical diagnosis. (Previously known as the “wandering uterus” phenomenon, which is also an awesome name for a punk band if I was ever to put one together.) Hysteria is a former kind, and a former designation, formerly socially constructed by social construction definition. (According to Hacking this is: “X need not have existed, or need not be at all as it is. X, or X as it is at present is not determined by the nature of things; it is not inevitable.”) Hysteria is, thus a blue law of a sort - an outmoded and outdated kind or designation that doesn’t occupy the same usage or nominal (or even nomologic) space that it used to. Instead, people who exhibit correlative symptoms are now granted the distinction of having an "Anxiety Disorder", or something else far less interesting than "wandering uterus."

So, if social construction and dynamic nominalism are both historic in nature (as processes that take place over time), then what does this mean for scientific blue laws, such as hysteria? Was their demise inevitable as well? Further, can we even say that a "kind" still exists in this respect? What happens to fallen "kinds"?

And with that, I need a nap.

Obama's surprise appearence at RNC

2008-09-08T08:50:00.003-05:00

Clever.

Now, I initially found all those RickRoll'd videos to be rather funny. Until, for a while there, it seemed like I was getting RickRoll'd every two seconds.

But way to explode the genre.

What alignment is Obama? Chaotic Awesome? That's right.

2008-08-18T23:17:00.003-05:00

Wow, this was a treat to stumble upon.

Started with Ben Smith's blog at Politico, and traveled from there.

Sometimes I don't believe my own life

2008-08-08T06:53:00.004-05:00

Have you ever had a series of events happen to you that make you seem like a pathological liar to anyone you meet (or especially to your boss)? That's been my summer. On the whole, things have been great. But the universe always finds a way to balance everything. And not that I'm a control freak exactly, but usually I want to feel - oh I don't know - that I have some sort of handle on things. Even if that handle had been repeatedly super-glued back on with that Family Dollar brand that smells like tapioca.

Usually I'm not big on simply posting timelines. I rather dislike timelines, because they are about as subtle and nuanced as a cartoon anvil. But enough hilarious and tragic stuff has happened that it kind of makes it necessary at this point. If only to publish before I get arrested for lying so I can say, "See officer? I'm totally not guilty of lying! It's on my sweet blog!" Which of course makes everything true, unless I am lying, which I'm not.

So here goes. I'll try to make this brief. It is, after all, only half-way through the summer.

1) Right before school ended, I randomly got a gig working on videos for a suicide terrorism project. (Seriously, I didn't even know this project existed.) I planned to work minimally so I could study for the philosophy orals to take place in mid-July.
Upside: Good money.
Downside: Suicide terrorism.

2) My awesome next-door neighbor passed away in his sleep. This was devastatingly tragic and awful. And it kind of threw me into a planning tail-spin, with many events to attend. Didn't leave much time for orals studying.
Upside: Not much of one, unless you count being totally accepted into my neighborhood now.
Downside: I lost my best friend in the neighborhood.

3)Mighty pressure to complete ST video project coupled with neighborhood events and then planning for a big mid-July lecture makes me postpone orals.
Upside: Regaining a small semblance of sanity.
Downside: Rescheduling with profs who have vacated Chicago for the summer.

4)Mid-July big lecture takes place to lots of people. The lecture was on Public Science during the Enlightenment for a continuing education program up north. I think they liked it. At least they were kind enough to say so.
Upside: Fluff lecture allowed for minimal planning, and I got to see my parents.
Downside: Exhaustion.

5)Was rehired by suicide terrorism project to do research, until the time when more videos could be found.
Upside: Good money.
Downside: Suicide terrorism.

6) Tim's Dad was hit by a car while he was biking downtown. His pelvis is broken, which is awful for a guy who's run like 50 marathons, and who was planning on running another with his son in November.
Upside: Can't see much of one right now.
Downside: [Obvious.]

7) Tim and I got engaged!
Upside: We got to call my parents in Norway.
Downside: Guess I'm stuck with Tim's awesomeness for life. Bummer.

8) My brakes went out on my car when driving back from getting Tim's Dad from his extended stay at the hospital.
Upside: Super-Thrilling-Fun-Time!
Downside: Did you know that brakes are expensive?

9) Reconnected with my very first friend from first-grade in Des Moines, IA, Erika J. I haven't talked with her for over twenty years. Facebook kicks ass.
Upside: Learning that awesome friends are always awesome friends.
Downside: None. Nada. Niente. Nope. And she's coming to Chicago in a few weeks!

and, drumroll...

10) Tim just found a $100 bill stuck in his wallet!
Upside: Woohoo!
Downside: Woohoo!

That's all for now. But I'm sure I'll post more timelines and pictures of when Tim and I elope (where we will spot Big Foot), of my new puppy that I will get from Warren Buffet who has followed my career and thought I needed a new puppy, and of that UFO I will see that will also kidnap me, thus again preventing me from taking my orals.

Preview of "The Accelerator Building"

2008-07-22T15:26:00.003-05:00

We decided to submit our doc to a festival, and they required a "preview" under three minutes.

For those of you who haven't seen it yet, here's a taste. It's the doc I worked on the first half of this year (but we can't put it all out there for proprietary reasons, of course). Jacob edited this together, and I think he did a great job.

Curious?

A Pretendedly Pithy Update

2008-07-20T10:14:00.003-05:00

While my silence of late might be construed as simply using all my time to find comedy videos online (I wish I was), I thought I'd lay out a few things that may or may not be funny. Stories abound, but none I felt quite worthy of continuing the tenor I've striven to maintain on this site. In short, adventures in eye surgery are few and far between these days.

I'm still working on the martyr videos pretty much full time. This has meant that my orals have been pushed back, and thankfully my committee was extremely understanding. By working full time, of course, this means seven days a week for the past several weeks. If anything else, my exhausted mental state might be cause for much mirth, and it frequently is to me.

Hyperbolic Example:

Tim: So you're telling me you thought it was a good idea to put the leftover spaghetti in the toaster.

Me: Well, I thought it was a better choice than in the DVD player.

Tim: I suppose so; I guess you can't easily watch spaghetti on the TV.

Me: You can, but it just looks like Carrot Top, and I don't feel like watching that right now.

But on the bright side, familiarity does not breed contempt, but rather a curious detachment (finally!). My father said that this kind of putting on the "professional hat" is what folks in the military have to do, so says the retired Lt. Col. in the Air Force. I can completely relate.

Perhaps this isn't quite professional, but we do have martyr quotes of the day. My favorite so far: "For those of you who are envious, you can [go pound sand]." I really want to know if "pound sand" is what he actually said.* But pounding sand is pretty hilarious (especially when coupled with envy and all its implications). I think were going to have running quotes of the day on the website when that's launched. (Yes, you *too* can see the product of my work as of late, coming soon to an interwebs near you!)

*UPDATE: I just confirmed today with the brilliant Mohammad that he actually says something about, trying to "take the fruit, but being unable to because of thorns." In essence, a futile action. I still like the imagery of "pounding sand."

Because I needs me some funny

2008-07-07T13:39:00.003-05:00

Tim and I caught this bit a while ago on Last Comic Standing. Now, I'm not normally able to quote funny stuff, but this has become embedded in my brain. The real funny starts about half-way through when Dan Cummins talks about weird breeds of dogs.

But then, Kanga started doing some interesting things. I've started letting her out while I'm sitting in the "garden" so I can keep an eye on her. She sticks around the back area, but manages to get into some pretty crazy places. Not big enough to be a "squirrelador" exactly, be she does some pretty squirrely things.

Caught in her natural habitat...

New Book Trailer

2008-07-01T07:30:00.002-05:00

Just out by Milk Products Media, a book trailer for "Have You Found Her"! Enjoy!

Have You Found Her from Milk Products on Vimeo.

Bonus behind the scenes awesomeness:

Making of Have You Found Her from Milk Products on Vimeo.

Urban Garden

2008-06-28T08:44:00.006-05:00

This spring, Tim and I decided we wanted to grow stuff. In the past, this has been restricted to a few herbs, but Tim decided that wasn't enough of a challenge. Herbs kind of take care of themselves. We needed more.

To this, about a month ago, Tim went to Green City Market one morning and surprised me with herbs, yes, but also SIX tomato plants and FOUR pepper plants. Then we spent the day elbow deep in dirt, cocooning and ensuring proper drainage of our new charges.

The result? Surprisingly, we have tomatoes! and peppers! And I was worried that the bee crisis had hit our neighborhood, too. Sure, these little guys haven't reached any sort of maturity to counter the ban of tomatoes on the market, but it's wonderfully gratifying to make stuff grow. And it certainly goes a long way in countering my current day job.

Here are some picks. The camera can't take good pics of the baby tomatoes, but I promise, they're there!

We actually have three tiers of plants - only two shown here.
And yes, that Kanga is trouble. Who knew former (and fatter) alley cats can run up and down fire escapes? This has made for lots of chasing fun.

Open Thread

2008-06-26T17:51:00.004-05:00

Seriously, what happens when you begin to lose your humanity? Or, rather, faith in humanity? Does it happen with a whimper or a boom? Little pieces chipped away like so many soap chips? Don't answer that. Batty just put me back in my place by wondering whether there's some kind of humanity to lose in the first place. Good question.

I had posted a rather piqued rant earlier precipitated by my latest production work. I pulled it. But this awful introspective period (not exactly worth it) resulted in some railing at the sky, followed by Tim making it all better by suggesting that my hella-bad-ass rack offered a solution with its ability to turn everything into black glass. He's right, you know.

House fire quickly contained - neighbors, firefighters disappointed

2008-06-17T11:43:00.004-05:00

I'm beginning to realize that my neighborhood provides more stories than my work in video/film production. I'm not exactly sure why this has taken me so long to understand. Perhaps this is because as an outsider living in a predominantly Mexican neighborhood, I often feel like I don't have the "right" to blog about my neighbors, even as crazy and beautiful and wonderful as they are. But after two events - the car crash and after being invited to sponsor the neighbor girl in her Quinceañera, then I'm feeling more part of the group. All bets are off. To a degree, of course.

And nothing brings a neighborhood together like a car crash, a Quinceañera, or a house fire. My house was not the one on fire.

Tim and I were settling in to watch a movie, when we heard sirens wail down the street. This, in of itself, is not an occasion of note, as it happens with relative frequency with usually benign and non-associative effects. But then we heard another, and then another, and then we smelled it.

There's nothing like the smell of smoke to make the basest of instincts kick in. Your body tenses in alarm as your head snaps up like a puppet's and your nose begins to inadvertently survey your immediate surroundings in order to gauge proximity, kind, and density of the SmokeSmell. You are then compelled to investigate the origin of the SmokeSmell. This happens to everyone, as was evidenced by the immediate emptying the neighboring houses all at once.

To this, Tim and I, and our neighbor Craig made our way in the direction of the other neighbors who were likewise following the same scent. Just down the street, three hulking firetrucks winced their cautionary lights as firefighters ran down the street with hoses to the one fire hydrant on the block. (Tim observed that it was strange to see the hydrant opened legally during the summer months - usually it's only put to purposes of cooling off the neighborhood children.) We made our way to the other side of the street to get out of the way, and to get a better view. We passed a "Command Van" situated near the firetrucks, which actually looked like one of those corporate mini-buses. This must be BIG. There's a COMMAND VAN.

But, when we finally arrived at the two-story house (which took us a while to figure out which one it was), we couldn't see much. There was a firefighter kind of meandering around inside, and several others standing around outside. I saw that a big window on the top floor was kind of warped, and pointed this out. We had confirmation. But no action.

Then, suddenly, a flurry of activity behind that window as a firefighter broke a corner of the glass. A huge plume of black smoke roiled out of the window. Finally, some action! But almost as soon as it happened, it subsided. Meanwhile, the truck ladder was being raised to the roof, and a group of four firefighters rolled some kind of gurney-like contraption to in front of the house. Tim said: "Oh no, someone must be hurt. This isn't funny anymore." But the four firemen just stood around with their equipment, staring like us up at the big window that meagerly sputtered smoke. I didn't think it was a gurney proper - too metal and pointy.

The telecom cracked and someone "in the know" announced that the fire had been contained, and no further action was necessary. The truck ladder still edged its way to the top of the little house, unabated, perhaps unable to retract until its mission was accomplished. Two guys got out and cautiously negotiated the low, peaked roof, then got back in and were returned to sender. The "gurney" fellows stood at ease. And the neighbors looked around at one another in guilty association - "That's it?"

Perhaps in acknowledgment of our collective feelings of being "let down", the men inside proceeded to smash the big window out in its entirety. This was smashy and glassy, and slightly pathetic. Tim wondered whether it was out of spite for not getting a chance to fight a bigger fire threat, or whether it was just to let in more oxygen in order to verify that it was officially out. He logically decided on the latter. But I think it was a little of both.

We returned to our apartment in relative silence. I think we all were feeling a strange emotion that thankfully doesn't happen very often, with the occasional nod towards some reality television. We all want to see action, but we don't want to see physical, lasting harm. We want drama, but we don't necessarily want schadenfreude - that's an icky feeling. Further, our basest desire for drama is complicated by the encroaching rational realization that there are real people who will have to deal with the real consequences of the event on a substantial level. It was with that realization that we all commented on how lucky it was that it wasn't worse.

And later in the evening I heard the pop-pop-pop of the nail gun as someone boarded up the smashed window.

Old friends, Tornados and Ice Road Truckers

2008-06-09T11:23:00.005-05:00

This weekend Tim and I went up to Madison to attend the wedding of, like, my oldest friend. Jake and I have known each other since 1st grade, and he was the only person to be nice to me when I transferred in from Des Moines. Jake is one of the most intelligent, genuine, pure, and hopeful souls you'll ever meet in your life, and he married the equally awesome Heidi. The weekend was full of my bestest, oldest friends, and it was great. Even though I eschewed my red wine moratorium because Scott's amazing wife kept re-filling my glass, which gave me a terrific excuse. The woman works at Google Headquarters, for Chrissakes. When she pours wine, I don't cover my glass, that's for sure. But this resulted in me running around the dance floor like an idiot (or a seven year old - same dif). My only hope is that everyone else was equally inebriated enough not to notice. I'm going with "yes."

This would be enough of a story for a blog entry. But, it's totally not. Nope. We woke up to crazy rain, high winds and tornado sirens (which was awesome for the morning after red wine over-consumption). Somehow, when you're in a hotel, you don't think that anything bad can happen to you. It was only when we left this morning that we could look back and say we were totally smart for not leaving and extending our stay.

So Tim and I settled in for another day. We needed it. At first, I couldn't wrap my brain around not having to do anything, and sort of just sat there, twitching, for a while. I was like a bird that thinks a cat is somewhere lurking in the weeds. I've been going from thing, to meeting, to requirement for the last six months. My back has an awful knot in it that's been there for at least six weeks, and I can feel it when I breathe. Not so good. But then, the blessedness of cable TV took over. And there was one, particular show, that try as we might (given our general reluctance to explore reality TV [although Tim does love the "So You Think You Can Dance", show - hilarious]), we could not avoid and eventually it sucked away our day.

This show is on the History Channel. The oxymoronic-ness of a reality show on the History Channel was not lost on me. But at least it wasn't a Hitler marathon or something. Instead, it was a marathon about truck drivers (again, the HC, Whuuh?). But not just any truck drivers, truck drivers who drive on ICE.

Ice Road Truckers is a show about crazy guys who make mad money driving on roads above the Arctic Circle that are usually lakes during the "summer", but are made into a highway of ice after it gets cold enough. These guys are somehow in competition for the most trips or money, but it's not for the show, it's more just bragging rights among the truckers (which is, obviously, the best kind of competition). There are lots of these drivers, but the show focuses on a single unit or company or something. I don't know how these filmmakers do it, but they must be insane Canadians, because that's the only explanation. And I'll say it again: Canadians are Crazy Insane. Or at least all of these dudes are, truckers and production people. They deliver stuff to coal mines, but also to diamond mines (I guess solving the Blood Diamond problem?). If you ever needed a reason to think that DeBeers will do anything to make diamonds, then this is it. Sending truck drivers out in the stupid cold to deliver crap above the Arctic Circle and navigate roads comprised exclusively of ICE is somehow the beyond.

These guys have also given Tim incredible new lyrics for his music. Like, "Only the good die young - So I've got a long time to live," or "If he didn't have bad luck, he wouldn't have nothin'." Superb. I think I need to get cable. In part, I was considering this because the digital TV commercials have begun to scare me, but now I have a new, totally legitimate reason in the shape of Ice Road Truckers.
And maybe that shoulder knot will finally work itself out.

Jon Stuyvesant is a Beautiful Man

2008-06-04T11:46:00.004-05:00

Jon, I'm sorry. But the good people need to witness your genius. The times demand it. I promise this is a one time thing. Unless you get a mad response, in which case I'll happily purvey your brilliance anywhere and however I can.

[Ed Note: Jon makes extraordinary, cutting-edge videos and has a crazy awesome girlfriend.)

Trip to eye doctor results in astonishment, lasers

2008-06-02T12:26:00.008-05:00

Yes, lasers. Freaky Star Trek lasers... but let me back up in here a-minute...

So, in October, I went to get my eyes checked at a random Pearle Vision place. I hadn't been to the eye doctor since High School or something, and never had them dilated. The good news was that my eyesight actually got "better" in terms of my gross nearsightedness. Weird. Especially 'cause I read a lot. The bad news was that I had a questionable spot on my retina, possibly indicating a hole or tear of some sort. But I didn't have any of the symptoms that usually accompany such a diagnosis, including the incredibly technical-sounding "flashies" or "floaties." It's not a big deal, really, but it can lead to the awful "detached retina" scenario. No real reason as to why it happens - it's just a "bad luck" event. Goody for me.

So I forgot about it. This is bad, I know. I mean, I'm a terrible hypochondriac all things put together, but I occasionally have certain things happen to the old bod that are never unmanageable or as awful as I could imagine in my hypochondria daydreams, but are usually weird ongoing nuisances. [knock*knock]

But, with the referral letter sitting on my table staring at me, I finally made an appointment the Opthalmology Clinic at the University Hospital. Although I should mention that it was a moment of sublime hypochondriatic panic that really forced me to make that call. (The details of said stupidity are probably best left unmentioned. Seriously, I'm sure you don't want to know - because then you'll definitely think less of me. Or you'll just pat me on the head and tell me I'm pretty. That's what Tim does.)

My appointment was today. It was all going smoothly, everything fine and A-OK, until the Doctor showed up. (Pshaw. Figures.) Guess Miss Wonderkind Optometrist from PearleVisionLand was right on about the diagnosis (drat), and the Doc marveled that she was able to locate something so tiny and in such a weird place in my eye. He's going to write her an awesome "Well done!" letter. Good for her.

I, on the other hand, required surgery. Laser surgery to be specific. It sounds neato, but it wasn't and the worst part is that I didn't have any time to do my stupid-effective Yoga breathing/focusing which really helps when you're giving blood, even when the technician nicks a vein. I don't give blood anymore.

I digress. After the Doc tells me that they're going to work some magic on my eye (which I suppose was a hilarious reference to my choice of research, and after he asked me twice whether I believed in real magic, whatever that is), I'm whisked into laser surgery land, which looks like every other exam room with the exception of a funky little machine. However, the machine wasn't even really part of it. It was some head contraption with a laser attached that the surgeon wore and it shot beams of laser into my eye-bulb. Freaky. The guy doing it seemed pretty confident about the procedure, but then couldn't locate the tear again. God bless it. Then I started to panic a bit. Here's a brief exchange between me and the surgeon that totally sums things up:

Dr. Zappy McLaser: Hold still and look to the right.

Me: I am looking to the right.

Dr. Zappy: Your other right.

Me: Oh.

Dr. Zappy: Now look down right. Now up right. Now righty right.

Me: Righty right?

Dr. Zappy: Yes, it's a technical term, like "Floaties."

Me: Oh.

Dr. Zappy: Can you see that? Feel it maybe?

Me: You mean the super bright green light and the crushing sensation within my eyebulb?

Dr. Zappy: Yes. That's the laser beam. Now, hold still. But first let me put more numbing drops in your eye-bulb and stick this really pointy thing in there, too.

Me: Pointy thing?

Dr. Zappy: Yes, it's a technical term.

Zappity-zap!!

Me: Ow! Can't you tell me when you're going to do that?

Dr. Zappy: No. Stop being a baby.

Me: Suck it.

Dr. Zappy: Sigh.

Now, I know I'm supposed to be all stoic and say things like "It wasn't that bad! Over in ten minutes!" But I've learned (today) that I hate eye doctors more than the dentist. I can totally handle pain, and this wasn't about that. It was about things being stuck in my eye-bulbs and having "Clockwork Orange" flashbacks. (Why did I have to watch that movie so many times in high school? C'mon.) But, on the bright side, I've now developed a new frightening neurosis concerning eye doctors. No Lasik Surgery for me.

DOC*U! mentary Film Festival

2008-05-30T09:15:00.003-05:00

What: DOC*U!
When: Wednesday, June 4th
Time: 6:00pm
Where: Film Studies Center
Cobb Lecture Hall - Room 307
5811 S. Ellis Avenue Chicago, IL 60637

FREE Screening, featuring:

THE ACCELERATOR BUILDING
Filmmakers: Mahaut Champetier De Ribes, Jacob Hurwitz-Goodman, Dana Rovang
In the middle of the University of Chicago campus, there is a small, gray building in the shadow of one of the school’s largest dorms. Unnoticed and unheard of by most students, it sits in obscurity. Inside its walls runs a world of tiny and colossal scientific machines.

THE GAME
Filmmakers: Shantai Green, Sarra Jahedi, Helen Kendall
Chess devotees meet in Hyde park to play for hours on end. Meanwhile, the players reflect on the game and how strategies employed can be used in everyday life.

PERFUME AND FORMALDEHYDE
Filmmakers: Betsy Cass, Danielle Dai, Courtney Saladino
The Walter Sojka Funeral Home, in business for over fifty years, has been a staple in the West Town community. The film explores the shifting dynamic within the home as Walter passes the business onto his assistant Edwin Cruz.

PAINTINGS BELOW ZERO
Filmmakers: Danielle Dai, Margaret DeCelles, Gene Fojtik
This past February, the City of Chicago presented Gordon Halloran's Paintings Below Zero, an art installation in Millennium Park. It drew tens of thousands of visitors in the midst one of Chicago's harshest winters. This film touches on the nature of public art and documents the piece that motivated so many to brave the elements for what might be one of Chicago's most successful exhibits ever.

TWELFTH STREET/ROOSEVELT ROAD
Filmmakers: Nick Collias, Felipe Diaz-Arango, Lizzie Himmel
Is it a barn? Ruins from an ancient civilization? No, it's Chicago's most chthonian train station! One of the last surviving remnants of urban decrepitude in downtown Chicago, slated for destruction. Thankfully, this feature will not be presented in Smell-O-Vision.

THE AFTERMATH OF AMADOU
Filmmakers: Gene Fojtik, Rebecca Roven, Chris Salata, Daniel Collins
In The Aftermath of Amadou, the tragic death of University of Chicago student Amadou Cisse serves as a catalyst for the examination of the often tenuous relationship between the University and the neighboring community of Woodlawn. The film investigates issues of social responsibility while attempting to answer the question, “who are our neighbors?”

CPST

2008-05-29T17:28:00.007-05:00

Last week I was hired to participate in a new project. Well, the project was new to me, I should say, and I've been hired in kind of a techie capacity, which is certainly new to me. Specifically, I've been hired to facilitate the creation of DVDs and subtitles for the contents of said DVDs. These DVDs will make up a new video collection. Seems like a piece of cake, you say. Why so cagey?, you also might say.

I know I don't get into my inner-most life here, and prefer this blog to be a compilation of humorous stories and promotion of my projects, and projects of my friends. The problem, however, is that I guess I need to talk about this in some capacity. The problem is that I'm realizing how deeply I mistrust this new medium. The problem is life/death and national security. (Although, perhaps I'm being overly dramatic here - the life/death does not directly touch me, and maybe this is worse.) But the more that I learn about this project the more I feel compelled to write about it here. I wasn't going to, but I feel a deep necessity to convey this information.

The new project is for the Chicago Project on Suicide Terrorism, headed up by Robert Pape. Please Google it. The contents of the DVD are suicide bombers' living testaments and wills. Up to now, there has not been any sort of effort to collect these, translate them, and make them available - let alone try to parse the content for underlying connections. Pape has done this. His project has been funded twice by the Pentagon (and Argonne National Lab and Carnegie). My funding comes from the Navy.

At its core, Pape contends that suicide bombings are directly connected to a sovereign territory being occupied - or perceived as being occupied - by an outside, democratic force. Most suicide bombings have nothing to do with religious or fanatical motives. Most of the past suicide bombings have taken place in Sri Lanka and have been perpetrated by the Tamil Tigers, a Hindu group. Then the Basque separatists who are a Marxist group. It has been shown that once the occupiers leave the area, the bombers do not "follow them home." In fact, bombings halt all together. Pape uses the withdrawal of the US, France, and Israel from the Golan Heights in the 1980s, for example. Reagan ordered the withdrawal after two attacks that had catastrophic casualties on a US base and a French base. No more suicide bombings have occurred since.

What about 9/11, you might ask? In the years leading up to the attacks, there was a decided uptick in the number of US forces in Saudi Arabia. Something like 15 of the 19 attackers were from Saudi Arabia. There had been other attacks on Saudi soil, but this one, of course, was different. I heard Pape talk about this last night at a talk, and I think he’s still trying to figure out all the permutations. But regardless, their motives were consistent with his initial hypothesis.

Then, take Iraq. Prior to the invasion in 2003, there were zero suicide attacks. In the years since they've steadily increased, as you might expect. They are all perpetrated by Sunni's, the minority group in Iraq. Very few of them are motivated for religious reasons. Nearly all the videos I've yet encountered do not speak about the virgins (although Pape does say that not all the videos have yet been examined), but rather the language leans decidedly in favor of protest over the occupation of a territory. This can all be found in Pape’s 2005 book, Dying to Win.

There’s lots more information, but at the moment, I’m a little overwhelmed. You can find some videos with a simple YouTube search, but I’ve never had to watch them and read the translations over and over and over. But this is a project of paramount importance and speaks to our understanding of human nature in addition to larger global politics. And it speaks in direct contradiction to what we’ve been fed by the current administration and the Media. It’s important. And I’m honored to be a part of it, as small as my contribution might be.

But right now, I really miss my magicians.

[I just reread this and I think I sound like a nutjob. Obviously make up your mind re: the evidence or whatever. and what you think is right, etc. It's a new world for me.]

[[but I now think my phone is tapped.]]

[[[but right on, Bring It!! Nothing to hide!!]]]

[[[[but seriously. I'm not down with weird confinement units placed on weird shards of land adjacent to weird "enemies."]]]]

[[[[[I think my phone is tapped.]]]]]

Brain Zaps

2008-05-16T09:13:00.008-05:00

I meant to post this when I found it. But it's mentioned in a NYTimes editorial today, and as it's rare that I actually know about something before the Times is on it, then I'll be all d-baggy and say "Saw it first!"
What's that, Times? You casually mention it as if everyone knows about it already? You might have been the one to originally report on it? Huh. Guess I'll have to go back to the MSN entertainment section to prove my scooping superiority. (Oooh, burn! That's right.)

I rarely get into politics here, and don't mean to continue it going forward, but apparently the GOP's new attempt to get all up on Barack Obama's "change" ticket has run into a snag. "The Change You Deserve"? That sounds vaguely familiar. Hmmmm....
Brain Zaps.

Dresses for breakfast?

2008-05-14T22:22:00.005-05:00

Courtesy of Slate.com and the APA. Enjoy.
http://www.apa.org/monitor/2008/05/marriage.html#chart

ps. What does it mean if you score in the negative?
No reason. Just asking.

Top of the Rock

2008-05-08T11:53:00.002-05:00

Mahaut, Jacob and me.
(Please note how I'm attempting to look casual while gripping the pole for dear life.)

The Rock

2008-05-07T09:07:00.005-05:00

Yesterday, my crew went to the top of Rockefeller Chapel on campus in order to get a sublime shot. As I wound up the exterior scaffolding and its nearly 300 steps, I noted the irony that only the Rockefellers could construct something this massive and still call it a "chapel." And never mind the fact that I'm terrified of heights, but that didn't kick in until about the seventh platform.* On the way back down, one of the engineers leading us around noted my anxiety, as well as the fact that I hadn't let go of something the whole time. And I thought I had played it cool. (But this did allow me to touch the stone at the top of the Rock. This is a story.)

The Rockefeller hasn't been garbed in scaffolding since its construction, and it probably won't be again for another 100 years. It was a once in a lifetime view, a once in three generations view. And it was magnificent.

We got our shot (and lots more), and now you have another reason to check out the doc.

*I can trace this fear to reading Czech writer Milan Kundera's Unbearable Lightness of Being. It is a manifested metaphor that entails not the fear of falling, but the fear of jumping. This is not a suicidal tendency - so rest assured. Rather:

"Anyone whose goal is 'something higher' must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? Then why do we feel it even when the observation tower comes equipped with a sturdy handrail? No, vertigo is something other than the fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves." (59-60)

Yep, it's either that, or my childhood trip to the top of the St. Louis Arch. [Shudder] It's an abomination, I tell you!

the chairs at the Franke make me sit up

2008-05-05T17:36:00.007-05:00

This weekend I had the opportunity to work with the inimitable Judy Hoffman. This is a big deal. We taped portions of a Tarkovsky conference held this weekend at Chicago. Here I must admit that my knowledge about Tarkovsky was rather limited, and I thought that "Solaris" was just a terrible George Clooney vehicle. But to those of you who might say, "Oh, yeah. The Tarkovsky original of Solaris is a classic. Tarkovsky was one of the greatest filmmakers of the 20th Century. I can't believe you don't know about him. Here's a link to Tarkovsky stuff." Then, to you I say: well, d-bag, thanks for helping me to point out again that I got to work with Judy Hoffman last weekend.

The conference was at times terrific, maddening, extravagant, and thrilling. Also long. Very long, considering that we were there two hours before it started (in all, it was an intense 11 hour day). I was working audio, but Judy had me doing all sorts of stuff. I must say that a faculty member actually making you part of the process, asking your opinion, and introducing you to people was a new one for me.

The highlight was the presentation of the assistant director and the head of lighting for Tarkovsky's 1983 staging of the "Boris Godunov" at the Royal Opera House in London. It was fascinating to hear how Tarkovsky employed his cinemagraphic eye to achieve a brilliant stage production. The lighting designer was especially helpful in this regard, although his association with Tarkovsky (who only spoke Russian and Italian) was clearly complex and he spoke of him with great affection; both the designer and the assistant director broke down when talking about working with Tarkovsky. The Drama!

Tarkovsky is great, yes, and I'm interested. But more than this, working with Judy on a shoot was The Beyond. We bonded personally and professionally. She knows everyone in the business of making documentaries and has worked with all the greats: Kartemquin Films, Ken Burns, the Maysles brothers, Jean Rouch - she did a doc about the Dalai Lama and directed one about Britney Spears (camera by Albert Maysles!). The lighting designer came up to her and said he was a big fan.

And I - with my shotgun mic complete with faux-wood pistol grip - was in heaven.

I need this.

2008-05-05T16:49:00.005-05:00

Maybe this will seal the exhaust leak on my car created by potholes and stupid winter. Now's not the time to run through gas like it was water.

If it only could seal the holes in a black, black soul. Maybe...? Nah.

Enjoy the hilarity.

I tried embedding it, but it starts up immediately. It's pretty annoying. So check out the link instead.

https://www.mightyputty.com/spark/index

Thanks to Megan the Magnificent (and equally beneficent) for pointing me to this.

"Seven Signs" at Lakeshore Theater - May 22

2008-05-02T08:20:00.003-05:00

Milk Products hits the big screen again, now in Chicago!
"Seven Signs" is a full length documentary about the South and Southern Music by Milk Products and JD Wilkes of Th' Legendary Shack*Shakers. The Shack*Shakers play after the film screening.

Seven Signs
Lakeshore Theater
May 22 @ 8:30pm
Tickets: $13

While I didn't have much to do with this doc, I did sit in for the Scott H. Biram interview in the green room at the Abbey Pub. Also, listen for my fave band Slim Cessna's Auto Club around the 2 min mark.

Early Warning

2008-04-30T17:20:00.007-05:00

In the middle of the University of Chicago campus there is a
small, gray building in the shadow of one of the
school's largest dorms. Unnoticed, unheard of by most
students, it sits in obscurity. Inside its walls runs a
world of tiny and colossal scientific machines.

Come see Accelerator Building.
(and others TBD)

Midway Documentary Circus
Film Studies Center
June 4, 2008 @ 6pm
Film Studies Center
University of Chicago

[More info forthcoming.]

Gang Bangers Hit My Car

2008-04-24T17:07:00.004-05:00

Well, now it's official. After my seven years in the neighborhood, I'm finally part of the community. If what I mean by "community," I really mean "encounter of the quasi-sort-of-violent kind by neighborhood thugs brings us together," then yes.

Actually, it's pretty banal, all told. I was in the shower preparing for an evening out, when I heard lots and lots of squealing tires. Intrigued, I looked out my shower window just in time to watch a back Ford with a white hood crash into my neatly parked car. I was stunned. I can't remember the last time I witnessed a collision. I quickly toweled off, threw on stinky clothes, and headed down.

On the way, I called 911. They were very nice. I then saw my neighbor who saw everything, and he explained that the car was being chased by a 'banger van. The car swerved, lost control and ran into mine. I later found out that the van was occupied by a faction of Bishops who had caused more mayhem last weekend. Depending on reports, these lovely gentlemen were responsible for anywhere from 1-3 casualties of last weekend's incredible 38 violent incidents in the Chicago area. And those are the ones I know about.

So I wandered over to the folks from the Ford. Two young women, a man, and a baby who couldn't have been older than about 7 months. Once they found out that the car they hit was mine, they were all apologetic, and certainly shaken. In a "from another planet" moment for me, the woman holding the baby explained that while they were being chased by the van, and she had been frantically trying to communicate to them that there was an infant in the car so they would go away. Apparently, this wasn't either 1) communicated or 2) acknowledged. After the crash, the van sped away.

First, the fire truck arrived. Then the cops. Then the ambulance. I explained that it was my car that was hit. Everyone looked at it and agreed that it looked fine, then they looked at me like they wondered why I was still hanging around. So I wandered back to the growing crowd on the corner.

I asked the lead cop whether I should submit information for insurance purposes. He looked categorically exasperated, then explained that there were more cars involved, including another that was hit (by the van or the Ford is unknown) that then also plowed into another parked car. I decided to leave it alone. I took pictures, but there really isn't anything there to see.

I haven't tried to start it up to find out whether the Brown Mouse will live to drive roughshod all over Chicago for another day. I was supposed to meet Tim out with friends, but I don't want to run the risk of breaking down at night. Call me crazy.