I have been meaning to post all break, but I apparently just suck at doing anything that is not my Prosem report or translating Old French. ALL OF THE OLD FRENCH OMG.
But I had a great, albeit short, break, and I have new clothes and a new coat and things to post about as soon as I get back from shopping at Meijer. I'm actually in the computer lab of the English Building right now, where I have been doing group Old French translation. I had to use my key to get into the building for the first time, which made me feel important (I have keys becaue I am faculty!). Also, it is snowing.
More to follow in a post which will include drunken exploits.
Friends. Couple. Married. Scientist. Rocks.
30 November 2008
29 November 2008
In which Jonah is writing a paper, if it takes all day
I have absolutely nothing (interesting) to blog about.
I wrote a Junior I.S. It's about Poetry and Prose and Donald Barthelme and John Ashbery and Robert Hass and it's 27 pages long, and I wrote the last 12 of those in one night which was, consequently, my first legit all-nighter of the year.
I definitely learned some lessons for the next time around (I have to write another one next semester because I'm a double major). For one thing, "do your whole bibliography and cite all your sources last" is a good strategy for a five page paper with six sources, and a really bad strategy for a 27-page paper with 20+ sources. Ok, that's all I can think of right now. So I learned one thing. I mean, I could say I learned a valuable lesson about procrastination, but that would be a bold-faced lie. Or possibly a bald-faced lie. I don't really know which is correct. Prorastination is not something I can learn my way out of. But the citation thing, that should really help a lot next semester.
And this, this is the most interesting thing I can conceive of to blog about. Rather than ramble on for what I judge to be an appropriate post-length and bore everyone I'll quit while I'm ahead.
Friends. Couple. Married. Scientist. Rocks.
I wrote a Junior I.S. It's about Poetry and Prose and Donald Barthelme and John Ashbery and Robert Hass and it's 27 pages long, and I wrote the last 12 of those in one night which was, consequently, my first legit all-nighter of the year.
I definitely learned some lessons for the next time around (I have to write another one next semester because I'm a double major). For one thing, "do your whole bibliography and cite all your sources last" is a good strategy for a five page paper with six sources, and a really bad strategy for a 27-page paper with 20+ sources. Ok, that's all I can think of right now. So I learned one thing. I mean, I could say I learned a valuable lesson about procrastination, but that would be a bold-faced lie. Or possibly a bald-faced lie. I don't really know which is correct. Prorastination is not something I can learn my way out of. But the citation thing, that should really help a lot next semester.
And this, this is the most interesting thing I can conceive of to blog about. Rather than ramble on for what I judge to be an appropriate post-length and bore everyone I'll quit while I'm ahead.
Friends. Couple. Married. Scientist. Rocks.
22 November 2008
Marten enters the tribunal hall. It is empty. As Marten goes to investigate, the hall's ceiling retracts to reveal a blimp in the sky, which promptly explodes. A figure parachutes down, landing in the middle of the hall.
"I'm Michael Bay and I demand things to - Damn it! Where is everybody?"
Marten: I was wondering the same thing...
Bay: I've been parachuting down here every day for the last 20 days. The first time I figured they just changed the meeting time and nobody bothered to tell Michael Bay. But they still haven't met. This is so NOT AWESOME. I'm charging every one of these blimps to Michael Christie.
Marten: Why to Michael?
Bay: *shrugs*
Marten: I wonder where the tribunal could possibly be.
(Meanwhile, in a dark basement, the tribunal is tied to chairs and blindfolded. Mysterious robed figures surround them. One, a petite figure who wasn't in the last revolutionary scene, is wailing on Nick Heidfeld with a shillelagh.)
Mysterious figure with shillelagh: And this is for making us post twice a month even when we're really busy and have grad school! And this is for threatening us with aliens! And this is for depriving the zombie cast of RENT! of two of their leads!
Mysterious figure who is actually Jonah: Damn, Erin! You've got a lot of rage.
Erin (suddenly very calm): I just pretend they're some of my students.
Mysterious figure 3 (from the last post): I... know the feeling. (Producing his own shillelagh and hitting Samuel L. Jackson) KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!
(Samuel L. Jackson suddenly stands up, ripping off the rope that holds him in the chair and vaporizing his blindfold with the sheer intensity of his stare)
Jackson: Enough is Enough! I've had it with these motherfucking shillelaghs in this motherfucking basement! It's time to open some windows!
Mysterious figure 2: But the basement doesn't have any windows.
Samuel L. Jackson: Then it's time to get out of this basement. Now turn some lights on, take off those stupid robes, and somebody tell me just what the hell this is all about.
Jonah (as everyone instantly complies): Yes, Mr. L. Jackson sir.
(The mysterious figures remove their robes to reveal Erin, Jonah, Nathan, and the three figures from the last post, in numerical order, Laurence Fishburne, Thomas, and William Shatner.)
Erin (tentatively, as she unties Helen Mirren): We have... some demands.
Nathan: We want leniency in the posting requirements.
Jackson: Fair enough.
Nathan: And a renegotiation of the contract with Lrrr and Ndnd. It's a conflict of interest if they keep being guaranteed meals.
Jackson: I don't want to be the one to tell them they're not guaranteed meals, but maybe we can work something out. What about the rest of you?
Jonah: I demand immediate cessation of the traditional mocking of Jonah.
Mirren: Does everyone want that, or is it just him?
(Silence)
Mirren: The mocking stays in.
Heidfield: Jonas ist ein armer Revolutionär des Piss, und er riecht wie einer auch.
(Applause)
Fishburne: I want to be in charge of the Tribunal!
Jackson: Pfft. Please.
Thomas: I have no particular demands!
Jackson: Granted.
Shatner: I just want people to love me again.
Jackson: There's not really anything I can do about that, Bill.
Shatner: Can I... get a hug?
(Uncomfortable silence until Thomas finally hugs William Shatner)
Jackson: And what about you, still wearing the robe?
(The final robed figure steps forward and reveals himself to be none other than Michael. Oooh, bet you didn't see that one coming)
Michael: I'm tired of writing you guys EVERY SINGLE MONTH. Maybe you could only meet if someone doesn't complete the posting requirements.
Jackson: Alright. Let's get upstairs and make some proclamations.
(The entire party climbs up a single flight of stairs to find themselves in the tribunal's chamber)
Marten (to Michael Bay): You never thought to check the basement?
Marshal of the Court: Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! All persons having business before the Honorable, the Tribunal of Justice of Compendium of Stupidity, are admonished to draw near and give their attention, for the Court is now sitting. God save the Compendium and this Honorable Court!
Samuel L. Jackson: (gavelling in) I hereby call this meeting of the tribunal to order. Be it resolved that first time post offenders will and offenders in extenuating circumstances will not be fed to Lrrr or Ndnd, that said aliens will be guaranteed by this court no meals, undead or otherwise, and that from henceforth the tribunal shall meet only in the event of pressing business, though Michael Bay shall continue to give his award for awesomest post if he so chooses.
(Cheers erupt from the crowd)
Michael Bay: (Bleary eyed) I'm Michael Bay (yawn) I demand things to be awesome. And this month the awesomest post was: Zzzzzzzzzzz.
(Michael bay falls asleep in the back of courtroom as everyone else tiptoes off)
Erin: Wait! What about my writ of certiori? Am I off the hook?
Erin: Whatever.
Friends. Couple. Married. Scientist. Rocks.
"I'm Michael Bay and I demand things to - Damn it! Where is everybody?"
Marten: I was wondering the same thing...
Bay: I've been parachuting down here every day for the last 20 days. The first time I figured they just changed the meeting time and nobody bothered to tell Michael Bay. But they still haven't met. This is so NOT AWESOME. I'm charging every one of these blimps to Michael Christie.
Marten: Why to Michael?
Bay: *shrugs*
Marten: I wonder where the tribunal could possibly be.
(Meanwhile, in a dark basement, the tribunal is tied to chairs and blindfolded. Mysterious robed figures surround them. One, a petite figure who wasn't in the last revolutionary scene, is wailing on Nick Heidfeld with a shillelagh.)
Mysterious figure with shillelagh: And this is for making us post twice a month even when we're really busy and have grad school! And this is for threatening us with aliens! And this is for depriving the zombie cast of RENT! of two of their leads!
Mysterious figure who is actually Jonah: Damn, Erin! You've got a lot of rage.
Erin (suddenly very calm): I just pretend they're some of my students.
Mysterious figure 3 (from the last post): I... know the feeling. (Producing his own shillelagh and hitting Samuel L. Jackson) KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!
(Samuel L. Jackson suddenly stands up, ripping off the rope that holds him in the chair and vaporizing his blindfold with the sheer intensity of his stare)
Jackson: Enough is Enough! I've had it with these motherfucking shillelaghs in this motherfucking basement! It's time to open some windows!
Mysterious figure 2: But the basement doesn't have any windows.
Samuel L. Jackson: Then it's time to get out of this basement. Now turn some lights on, take off those stupid robes, and somebody tell me just what the hell this is all about.
Jonah (as everyone instantly complies): Yes, Mr. L. Jackson sir.
(The mysterious figures remove their robes to reveal Erin, Jonah, Nathan, and the three figures from the last post, in numerical order, Laurence Fishburne, Thomas, and William Shatner.)
Erin (tentatively, as she unties Helen Mirren): We have... some demands.
Nathan: We want leniency in the posting requirements.
Jackson: Fair enough.
Nathan: And a renegotiation of the contract with Lrrr and Ndnd. It's a conflict of interest if they keep being guaranteed meals.
Jackson: I don't want to be the one to tell them they're not guaranteed meals, but maybe we can work something out. What about the rest of you?
Jonah: I demand immediate cessation of the traditional mocking of Jonah.
Mirren: Does everyone want that, or is it just him?
(Silence)
Mirren: The mocking stays in.
Heidfield: Jonas ist ein armer Revolutionär des Piss, und er riecht wie einer auch.
(Applause)
Fishburne: I want to be in charge of the Tribunal!
Jackson: Pfft. Please.
Thomas: I have no particular demands!
Jackson: Granted.
Shatner: I just want people to love me again.
Jackson: There's not really anything I can do about that, Bill.
Shatner: Can I... get a hug?
(Uncomfortable silence until Thomas finally hugs William Shatner)
Jackson: And what about you, still wearing the robe?
(The final robed figure steps forward and reveals himself to be none other than Michael. Oooh, bet you didn't see that one coming)
Michael: I'm tired of writing you guys EVERY SINGLE MONTH. Maybe you could only meet if someone doesn't complete the posting requirements.
Jackson: Alright. Let's get upstairs and make some proclamations.
(The entire party climbs up a single flight of stairs to find themselves in the tribunal's chamber)
Marten (to Michael Bay): You never thought to check the basement?
Marshal of the Court: Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! All persons having business before the Honorable, the Tribunal of Justice of Compendium of Stupidity, are admonished to draw near and give their attention, for the Court is now sitting. God save the Compendium and this Honorable Court!Samuel L. Jackson: (gavelling in) I hereby call this meeting of the tribunal to order. Be it resolved that first time post offenders will and offenders in extenuating circumstances will not be fed to Lrrr or Ndnd, that said aliens will be guaranteed by this court no meals, undead or otherwise, and that from henceforth the tribunal shall meet only in the event of pressing business, though Michael Bay shall continue to give his award for awesomest post if he so chooses.
(Cheers erupt from the crowd)
Michael Bay: (Bleary eyed) I'm Michael Bay (yawn) I demand things to be awesome. And this month the awesomest post was: Zzzzzzzzzzz.
(Michael bay falls asleep in the back of courtroom as everyone else tiptoes off)
Erin: Wait! What about my writ of certiori? Am I off the hook?
Erin: Whatever.
Friends. Couple. Married. Scientist. Rocks.
21 November 2008
In which a problem that is not really a problem is described, but not fully solved
So I have this roommate...
I'm sure I've talked about him before. Not nearly as much as he talks about me on his blog, though, and I figure turnabout is fair play. Plus I'm ninety percent sure he doesn't know this blog exists. See, my roommate has been dating this girl for like a year and a half now. It's a long distance relationship and he, being the easy-going guy that he is, offered very early on to give her a free pass at other guys, effectively making there's an open relationship. She declined. Until a few weeks ago.
After she finally called him on it, he decided not to tell anyone, on the basis that if he started saying he was in an open relationship, certain people would think he'd just been hitting on them for a long time, and he didn't want to come off as a dick. So he didn't tell anyone. Which, as I pointed out, kind of defeats the purpose. Somehow, this fact got back to the girlfriend, who responded with something like "If you really don't think love and sex are connected, go fool around with some girl." So she gave him an ultimatum - make out with someone else before Thanksgiving break, or you won't be making out with me,"
Now, as our friend Tom pointed out, most guys would kill for that ultimatum. Not my roommate. Every time we suggest a friend of ours or a method for solving this problem, he rejects for some reason, usually along the lines of "it would make things awkward" or "I'd be taking advantage of her," Perfectly valid reasons, but it still left us in a predicament. So at breakfast today, Tom and I were discussing this with my roommate. As Tom explained the finer points of going to the frat dorm and hitting on drunk girls, I went over to a table a few tables away where my friend Kendra was sitting by herself.
"Kendra? I have a question,"
"Yes?"
"How would you feel about making out with Chalkey? You know, hypothetically,"
"I... wouldn't be opposed to it,"
"Say, some time in the next four days?"
"Wait a minute, what? I thought this was hypothetical,"
"It is. sort of. So you wouldn't be opposed to it?"
"No, I don't think I would,"
I walked back to the table and sat down.
"Kendra's game," I said non nonchalantly.
Chalkey got the most priceless look on his face, and just looked around. He was very insistant that he wasn't going to just hook up with some random girl, but then Tom was all "isn't that the point?"
Later, Kendra went back to the table and asked what the hell was going on, at which point Tom was obliged to explain it to her while Chalkey glared at me. But, on the way back, Chalkey asked me if Kendra had actually flat out said yes or no, which I consider a good sign.
You see, somehow, it's turned into a competition now. If Chalkey doesn't make out with anyone, nobody wins. If I find him his girl, I win, and if he goes the drunk chick route, Tom definitely wins. Fun times, right?
Friends. Couple. Married. Scientist. Rocks.
I'm sure I've talked about him before. Not nearly as much as he talks about me on his blog, though, and I figure turnabout is fair play. Plus I'm ninety percent sure he doesn't know this blog exists. See, my roommate has been dating this girl for like a year and a half now. It's a long distance relationship and he, being the easy-going guy that he is, offered very early on to give her a free pass at other guys, effectively making there's an open relationship. She declined. Until a few weeks ago.
After she finally called him on it, he decided not to tell anyone, on the basis that if he started saying he was in an open relationship, certain people would think he'd just been hitting on them for a long time, and he didn't want to come off as a dick. So he didn't tell anyone. Which, as I pointed out, kind of defeats the purpose. Somehow, this fact got back to the girlfriend, who responded with something like "If you really don't think love and sex are connected, go fool around with some girl." So she gave him an ultimatum - make out with someone else before Thanksgiving break, or you won't be making out with me,"
Now, as our friend Tom pointed out, most guys would kill for that ultimatum. Not my roommate. Every time we suggest a friend of ours or a method for solving this problem, he rejects for some reason, usually along the lines of "it would make things awkward" or "I'd be taking advantage of her," Perfectly valid reasons, but it still left us in a predicament. So at breakfast today, Tom and I were discussing this with my roommate. As Tom explained the finer points of going to the frat dorm and hitting on drunk girls, I went over to a table a few tables away where my friend Kendra was sitting by herself.
"Kendra? I have a question,"
"Yes?"
"How would you feel about making out with Chalkey? You know, hypothetically,"
"I... wouldn't be opposed to it,"
"Say, some time in the next four days?"
"Wait a minute, what? I thought this was hypothetical,"
"It is. sort of. So you wouldn't be opposed to it?"
"No, I don't think I would,"
I walked back to the table and sat down.
"Kendra's game," I said non nonchalantly.
Chalkey got the most priceless look on his face, and just looked around. He was very insistant that he wasn't going to just hook up with some random girl, but then Tom was all "isn't that the point?"
Later, Kendra went back to the table and asked what the hell was going on, at which point Tom was obliged to explain it to her while Chalkey glared at me. But, on the way back, Chalkey asked me if Kendra had actually flat out said yes or no, which I consider a good sign.
You see, somehow, it's turned into a competition now. If Chalkey doesn't make out with anyone, nobody wins. If I find him his girl, I win, and if he goes the drunk chick route, Tom definitely wins. Fun times, right?
Friends. Couple. Married. Scientist. Rocks.
17 November 2008
I never knew until now, but I always wanted that!
I didn't follow my usual title scheme for a very important reason. Michael will tell you that he wants it, but I am going to tell you that I WANT IT SO MUCH MORE THAN HE DOES. This is what happens when we both watch tv at the same time, but I totally wanted it first. I've loved dinosaurs longer, and have actually dug for dinosaur bones. Sure, it was in the playground at Brook Park Elementary School, but it's the spirit of the activity that's important. And that is why I will win the duel that resulted from the following conversation:
I apologize to the rest of Compendium for the collateral damage that will almost certainly result from this epic battle, but I must have Kota.
Meanwhile, my free-fall of procrastination, while ended with smooth landings on the halloween (Vampire hunter, prop based, put together in two hours, looked awesome) and the Shakespeare(Read as King Lear, sort of wished I read like Hugo Weaving, but was awesome anyway) fronts, I've sort of fallen on my face with my artist as entrepreneur class. I don't think I ever recovered from the time I missed from being suspended. And now it seems like assignments keep getting piled on, and so my life has taken on a weird sort of dichotemy. I'm having a great time with friends here, whenever I hang out with Nathan and Jonah and Amanda, things are terrific with Claire, I'm actually bonding with the rest of my department for once what with the communing with spirits on a ouija board with Nina, Allison and Owen, and just generally having an awesome time with every part of my life that isn't class. I'm ready for Thanksgiving break, only not really. I'm ready to be done with the major assignments, but I'm not actually ready to turn them in.
Friends. Couple. Married. Scientist. Rocks.
"Michael" (8:42:48 PM) : Marten!
"Michael" (8:42:55 PM) : I found my Christmas present!
Pinball jedi 42 (8:42:57 PM) : MICHAEL!
Pinball jedi 42 (8:43:00 PM) : SO DID I!
"Michael" (8:43:00 PM) : http://www.hasbrotoyshop.com/ProductsByBrand.htm?BR=485&ID=22405
Pinball jedi 42 (8:43:02 PM) : http://www.amazon.com/Playskool-Kota-My-Triceratops-Dinosaur/dp/B0016H1OPQ/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=toys-and-games&qid=1226972535&sr=8-1
Pinball jedi 42 (8:43:04 PM) : NO!
Pinball jedi 42 (8:43:06 PM) : I WANTED IT FIRST!
"Michael" (8:43:09 PM) : ME FIRST!
Pinball jedi 42 (8:43:13 PM) : NOOOOOO!
Pinball jedi 42 (8:43:14 PM) : MINE!
Pinball jedi 42 (8:43:22 PM) : I GOT SO MUCH MORE EXCITED THAN YOU!
"Michael" (8:47:24 PM) : NO!
"Michael" (8:47:26 PM) : MINE!
"Michael" (8:47:55 PM) : You can have Fisher Price Elmo Live!
Pinball jedi 42 (8:48:20 PM) : NO
Pinball jedi 42 (8:48:24 PM) : I want dinosaur
"Michael" (8:48:30 PM) : MY DINOSAUR!
Pinball jedi 42 (8:48:32 PM) : I want Kota the Triceratops
Pinball jedi 42 (8:48:38 PM) : I want it more than you
"Michael" (8:48:39 PM) : MY KOTA THE TRICERATOPS!
Pinball jedi 42 (8:48:49 PM) : I will fight you, Michael
"Michael" (8:49:00 PM) : I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!
"Michael" (8:49:18 PM) : KOTA WILL BE MINE!
Pinball jedi 42 (8:52:27 PM) : Very well. We shall duel on the eve of the Third Annual Pre-Thanksgiving Movie Night
"Michael" (8:52:53 PM) : EXCELLENT! FETCH MY DERRINGERS!
I apologize to the rest of Compendium for the collateral damage that will almost certainly result from this epic battle, but I must have Kota.
Meanwhile, my free-fall of procrastination, while ended with smooth landings on the halloween (Vampire hunter, prop based, put together in two hours, looked awesome) and the Shakespeare(Read as King Lear, sort of wished I read like Hugo Weaving, but was awesome anyway) fronts, I've sort of fallen on my face with my artist as entrepreneur class. I don't think I ever recovered from the time I missed from being suspended. And now it seems like assignments keep getting piled on, and so my life has taken on a weird sort of dichotemy. I'm having a great time with friends here, whenever I hang out with Nathan and Jonah and Amanda, things are terrific with Claire, I'm actually bonding with the rest of my department for once what with the communing with spirits on a ouija board with Nina, Allison and Owen, and just generally having an awesome time with every part of my life that isn't class. I'm ready for Thanksgiving break, only not really. I'm ready to be done with the major assignments, but I'm not actually ready to turn them in.
Friends. Couple. Married. Scientist. Rocks.
06 November 2008
OH MY GOD YOU JUST SAID THAT!
I voted, it was kinda cool. I sort of wish that I voted in Indiana, since it turned out to actually be important. As it is, though, since Ohio's race got pretty narrow at the end, my vote probably actually got counted. The board of elections or whatever it is that you register with spelled my name wrong on my voter registration card, so I had to cast a provisional ballot. Yay, Obama, and all that. I'm watching the Daily Show, and these clips of all the celebrations after the election make me think of a coke commercial. I also like the south park conspiracy that Obama and McCain were working together to get access to the emergency tunnel from the oval office in order to finish a diamond heist. I'm also with Erin on the awesome hologram technology thing. There is, however, something that I'm more excited about.
He's Back.
It could be a matter of national importance.
Could it still be nothing if you hear it twice?
Friends. Couple. Married. Scientist. Rocks.
Shiny shiny little rocks...
Let's rest next to this large plant.
IT IS THE WAITING THAT IS DIFFICULT
Next, when I feel like posting it, my awesomeness at procrastination of such things as Halloween and Shakespeare.
Don't try to rationalize the viking.
He's Back.
It could be a matter of national importance.
Could it still be nothing if you hear it twice?
Friends. Couple. Married. Scientist. Rocks.
Shiny shiny little rocks...
Let's rest next to this large plant.
IT IS THE WAITING THAT IS DIFFICULT
Next, when I feel like posting it, my awesomeness at procrastination of such things as Halloween and Shakespeare.
Don't try to rationalize the viking.
05 November 2008
A New Hope
After tonight, there is no doubt about it, the world is moving forward. CNN chose to display this in more ways than one. You may think that I will be addressing one of them, but you all know how I feel about that and are probably just about as overwhelmed as I am. I may be livejournaling by the end of the night. No, I'm going to talk about the other sign of progress seen tonight.
In the midst of all the hope and change, you may have failed to notice… WE ARE LIVING IN A SCIENCE FICTION MOVIE!
Recently, I put some thought into how to describe certain Star Wars technologies. The comlink? It’s… basically a cell phone. One you always have to have on speakerphone. Like my phone right now, actually. The datapad? As I understand it, it’s like a cross between a BlackBerry and a Kindle. Undeniably, these examples taken into account, The Future Is Here.
But communicating by hologram? I thought that was something that would actually not really be possible. I mean, Magical Fake Technology, right?
WRONG! Because tonight, CNN communicated with Chicago by hologram. No, for real. There were life-sized people projected live with slight blue auras around them. No matter how many times I see it, I can’t believe it. I cannot. Believe it. I would have to actually be in that studio to be convinced that they weren’t just pulling some fancy deceptive CGI.
And if I were there… well, I’d have been skipping and running around in circles all over the place, going “Eee hee hee hee!” Wouldn’t you? “Come on, say it! Saaay iiiiit!” “*Sigh.* Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.” “Heeeeeeee!”
Guys, there is a holodeck that projects life-size real-time color holograms in Chicago and another one at CNN. We are thisclose to HoloNetNews: Earth.
Now, the question is, how fast can we spread this new technology? How quickly can we make it a norm? To the point, how soon can I get a holodeck? Will you get me one for Christmas? It would be the best gift in the world.
ETA: LOOKIT! WAAAAANT!
Don't try to rationalize the viking.
In the midst of all the hope and change, you may have failed to notice… WE ARE LIVING IN A SCIENCE FICTION MOVIE!
Recently, I put some thought into how to describe certain Star Wars technologies. The comlink? It’s… basically a cell phone. One you always have to have on speakerphone. Like my phone right now, actually. The datapad? As I understand it, it’s like a cross between a BlackBerry and a Kindle. Undeniably, these examples taken into account, The Future Is Here.
But communicating by hologram? I thought that was something that would actually not really be possible. I mean, Magical Fake Technology, right?
WRONG! Because tonight, CNN communicated with Chicago by hologram. No, for real. There were life-sized people projected live with slight blue auras around them. No matter how many times I see it, I can’t believe it. I cannot. Believe it. I would have to actually be in that studio to be convinced that they weren’t just pulling some fancy deceptive CGI.
And if I were there… well, I’d have been skipping and running around in circles all over the place, going “Eee hee hee hee!” Wouldn’t you? “Come on, say it! Saaay iiiiit!” “*Sigh.* Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.” “Heeeeeeee!”
Guys, there is a holodeck that projects life-size real-time color holograms in Chicago and another one at CNN. We are thisclose to HoloNetNews: Earth.
Now, the question is, how fast can we spread this new technology? How quickly can we make it a norm? To the point, how soon can I get a holodeck? Will you get me one for Christmas? It would be the best gift in the world.
ETA: LOOKIT! WAAAAANT!
Don't try to rationalize the viking.
01 November 2008
That day we read no more.
In this post I am going to talk about both the awesome side and the horrible side of academia and a career therein. Join me, won't you?
First, the horrible side. My. Students. SUCK. About half of my class is composed of asshats. But there is a ringleader-- let us call him Snowflake. This is the history of the Snowflake Debacle. Snowflake has come to think a lot of himself over the years; in his own eyes, he is the specialest snowflake in the whole wide world. Hence the nickname. From day one he has been pushing me with this attitude-- "I clearly do not respect you at all, but how can you not find me utterly adorable? I am oh so charming!" He's routinely talking during lectures and surfing his computer and so on during class. When the students got so bad that I had to take a beginning of class to lay out my participation requirements, even though these were rules in the syllabus, Snowflake was concerned enough to send me an email (a few days later), questioning these policies that had been in place all semester and actually suggesting to me that I stop cold calling students (a radical classroom procedure, I know!) since they clearly aren't answering because they don't know the answer. FOR REAL. I sent him a reply liberally quoting the syllabus and considered the matter settled. He didn't change his behavior, but whatever.
Then he got his resume back, and while he had one of the better grades in the class, he came to my office (a handful of them did, but he was the worst) loudly complaining. Then he sent me another douchey email about it. Then he sent me another douchey email asking to see my breakdown of the participation grades. I don't want to go into any more detail here, and I may in fact edit this, but... GAH! I so much wanted to send his ass to the program director, and the program director wanted it just as badly, but every time I suggested that Snowflake go to the director, he was basically like, "No, I think I'll just keep on harrassing you. That seems to be working well."
Finally, he basically set up for himself another meeting with me in my office. I refused this meeting. But his group had a scheduled meeting with me that day anyway, and afterward he wanted to talk for a second. He apologized if I was offended by his conduct. Not apologized for his conduct, mind you. And I wish that I could say that I went off on him. I wish that I had told him that his behavior has been uacceptable, given him the reasons, and told him to improve ASAP or he would not only fail my class but get fired from his job for being a douchebag. But I didn't. Somehow in face-to-face meetings with these kids I always get uncomfortable and basically roll over. In this one, I did manage to say, "You need to work on the tone of your emails. You need to show respect to me as your teacher." And I know he knows what he did. But when he's standing there denying that he does... I don't know what to do.
The funny thing is, everyone I tell about him is outraged on my behalf, and everyone in the offices who hear him speak to me immediately know that he is an asshole. So at least I know I'm not wrong about him. And since everyone tells me I'm more lenient than they would have been with the grading, I know I'm not wrong about that, either.
However, I am waaaay behind on my grading, and it's apparently panicking my class, and I do have to have a meeting with the director about that on Monday. So... I'm really nervous about that. Like, really. It's kind of the last thing I need right now, not that it's not justified. Just... ugh.
But! I get to TA for a lit class next semester instead! I know this is going to be challenging, too, but at this point I am beyond happy to get out of BTW, at least for a while. Knowledge of this reprieve was the only thing that got me through the day that six students came to my office to talk to me about their resume grades.
But this past week has been a good reminder of why I love academia. My university hosted a Translating the Middle Ages conference, and although setting aside time on my two busiest days was initially a pain in the ass, I went to several of the sessions, and was really glad I did. They were really interesting, and we had a couple of pretty prominent speakers. And then this past Tuesday evening, as part of the conference events, there was a reading and talk by Robert Pinsky and W.S. Merwin aboutu their translations of Inferno and Purgatorio, respectively. WOW. Pinsky is the poet laureate, by the way, and Merwin a) translated Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and b) knew Sylvia Plath and Ezra Pound. Their reading was amazing. It was chilling and moving and I almost started crying at the end. I hope to post more about this on my livejournal. And then their talk about the art of translation was really insightful and thoughtful. I loved it. I was totally talked into skipping my Theory lecture to go, and it was beyond worth it. I am so glad I went-- this is the kind of event you remember for a while. Just... wow.
Tonight I was roped into going to a Halloween party, and it was awkward. I'll post more about that later. But anyway, I thought I was going to be able to post earlier before I was convinced to go, so... there's that. And then they wouldn't let me leave.
Don't try to rationalize the viking.
First, the horrible side. My. Students. SUCK. About half of my class is composed of asshats. But there is a ringleader-- let us call him Snowflake. This is the history of the Snowflake Debacle. Snowflake has come to think a lot of himself over the years; in his own eyes, he is the specialest snowflake in the whole wide world. Hence the nickname. From day one he has been pushing me with this attitude-- "I clearly do not respect you at all, but how can you not find me utterly adorable? I am oh so charming!" He's routinely talking during lectures and surfing his computer and so on during class. When the students got so bad that I had to take a beginning of class to lay out my participation requirements, even though these were rules in the syllabus, Snowflake was concerned enough to send me an email (a few days later), questioning these policies that had been in place all semester and actually suggesting to me that I stop cold calling students (a radical classroom procedure, I know!) since they clearly aren't answering because they don't know the answer. FOR REAL. I sent him a reply liberally quoting the syllabus and considered the matter settled. He didn't change his behavior, but whatever.
Then he got his resume back, and while he had one of the better grades in the class, he came to my office (a handful of them did, but he was the worst) loudly complaining. Then he sent me another douchey email about it. Then he sent me another douchey email asking to see my breakdown of the participation grades. I don't want to go into any more detail here, and I may in fact edit this, but... GAH! I so much wanted to send his ass to the program director, and the program director wanted it just as badly, but every time I suggested that Snowflake go to the director, he was basically like, "No, I think I'll just keep on harrassing you. That seems to be working well."
Finally, he basically set up for himself another meeting with me in my office. I refused this meeting. But his group had a scheduled meeting with me that day anyway, and afterward he wanted to talk for a second. He apologized if I was offended by his conduct. Not apologized for his conduct, mind you. And I wish that I could say that I went off on him. I wish that I had told him that his behavior has been uacceptable, given him the reasons, and told him to improve ASAP or he would not only fail my class but get fired from his job for being a douchebag. But I didn't. Somehow in face-to-face meetings with these kids I always get uncomfortable and basically roll over. In this one, I did manage to say, "You need to work on the tone of your emails. You need to show respect to me as your teacher." And I know he knows what he did. But when he's standing there denying that he does... I don't know what to do.
The funny thing is, everyone I tell about him is outraged on my behalf, and everyone in the offices who hear him speak to me immediately know that he is an asshole. So at least I know I'm not wrong about him. And since everyone tells me I'm more lenient than they would have been with the grading, I know I'm not wrong about that, either.
However, I am waaaay behind on my grading, and it's apparently panicking my class, and I do have to have a meeting with the director about that on Monday. So... I'm really nervous about that. Like, really. It's kind of the last thing I need right now, not that it's not justified. Just... ugh.
But! I get to TA for a lit class next semester instead! I know this is going to be challenging, too, but at this point I am beyond happy to get out of BTW, at least for a while. Knowledge of this reprieve was the only thing that got me through the day that six students came to my office to talk to me about their resume grades.
But this past week has been a good reminder of why I love academia. My university hosted a Translating the Middle Ages conference, and although setting aside time on my two busiest days was initially a pain in the ass, I went to several of the sessions, and was really glad I did. They were really interesting, and we had a couple of pretty prominent speakers. And then this past Tuesday evening, as part of the conference events, there was a reading and talk by Robert Pinsky and W.S. Merwin aboutu their translations of Inferno and Purgatorio, respectively. WOW. Pinsky is the poet laureate, by the way, and Merwin a) translated Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and b) knew Sylvia Plath and Ezra Pound. Their reading was amazing. It was chilling and moving and I almost started crying at the end. I hope to post more about this on my livejournal. And then their talk about the art of translation was really insightful and thoughtful. I loved it. I was totally talked into skipping my Theory lecture to go, and it was beyond worth it. I am so glad I went-- this is the kind of event you remember for a while. Just... wow.
Tonight I was roped into going to a Halloween party, and it was awkward. I'll post more about that later. But anyway, I thought I was going to be able to post earlier before I was convinced to go, so... there's that. And then they wouldn't let me leave.
Don't try to rationalize the viking.
Parley! I invoke the Right of Parley!
Writ of centiorari! Writ of centiorari! Grad school is HARD, yo!
So, my birthday was the 12th. It was an okay birthday, just not as good as it could have been had I actually been with the people I wanted to be with. I did manage not to have to do any work that day. And I was home for the first half of the day. My birthday is also my granddad's birthday (and my grandparents' anniversary), so I was home, because he turned 90. That was cool; we all went out to dinner and I got the fourth season of The Office.
I spent a large chunk of the day riding in the car with my mom, and I was really sleepy because I'd had a hard time getting to sleep the night before, but I didn't want to spend my birthday sleeping... it was a conundrum. We got back to Illinois. and it turned out that my birthday this year fell on the day before Canadian Thanksgiving. My Canadian roommate couldn't go home for Canadian Thanksgiving, so she and I went to another girl's house to celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving.
I've never celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving before, but it was great, even if only in that we got to eat real food. Usually there would be turkey, but we had chicken instead, and potatoes. It was really good. And then we watched a BBC adaptation of the first half of Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. So... that was interesting, I"m sure, both as a birthday for me and as a Thanksgiving for Arley.
So, yeah, it was a good birthday, but I really missed my Hanover friends and you guys and I kept thinking how much better it could have been. We did have a party for me a week after my birthday. It was probably a pretty lame party, but I was just glad that a handful of people came. The invitations went out at the last minute. It was more a party in honor of the cake that Arley made in honor of my birthday than anything else. She made me a cake version of Seeley Booth (in his Shirtless!Booth form) wishing me a happy birthday in Old English. And it was really delicious. I took pictures-- both Before and After pictures. It looked like Gormogon had gotten to him or something.
I was glad that the party wasn't a very big to-do, because it was almost more a hindrance than anything else. Though I did want my cake. Grad school is stressing me out hugely. A LOT. I've been okay for most of this week simply by convincing myself to be Zen about it, but overall I am freaking out the majority of the time. I'm freaking out when I'm not working, and when I am working, which is the majority of the time, I am also freaking out on a kind of mental back-burner. I'm still glad I came to grad school, but I've definitely had the "What the hell am I doing here?" moments. A lot of them. Like, every day the week before last.
So, please don't feed me to Lrrr. I'll cry.
Don't try to rationalize the viking.
So, my birthday was the 12th. It was an okay birthday, just not as good as it could have been had I actually been with the people I wanted to be with. I did manage not to have to do any work that day. And I was home for the first half of the day. My birthday is also my granddad's birthday (and my grandparents' anniversary), so I was home, because he turned 90. That was cool; we all went out to dinner and I got the fourth season of The Office.
I spent a large chunk of the day riding in the car with my mom, and I was really sleepy because I'd had a hard time getting to sleep the night before, but I didn't want to spend my birthday sleeping... it was a conundrum. We got back to Illinois. and it turned out that my birthday this year fell on the day before Canadian Thanksgiving. My Canadian roommate couldn't go home for Canadian Thanksgiving, so she and I went to another girl's house to celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving.
I've never celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving before, but it was great, even if only in that we got to eat real food. Usually there would be turkey, but we had chicken instead, and potatoes. It was really good. And then we watched a BBC adaptation of the first half of Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. So... that was interesting, I"m sure, both as a birthday for me and as a Thanksgiving for Arley.
So, yeah, it was a good birthday, but I really missed my Hanover friends and you guys and I kept thinking how much better it could have been. We did have a party for me a week after my birthday. It was probably a pretty lame party, but I was just glad that a handful of people came. The invitations went out at the last minute. It was more a party in honor of the cake that Arley made in honor of my birthday than anything else. She made me a cake version of Seeley Booth (in his Shirtless!Booth form) wishing me a happy birthday in Old English. And it was really delicious. I took pictures-- both Before and After pictures. It looked like Gormogon had gotten to him or something.
I was glad that the party wasn't a very big to-do, because it was almost more a hindrance than anything else. Though I did want my cake. Grad school is stressing me out hugely. A LOT. I've been okay for most of this week simply by convincing myself to be Zen about it, but overall I am freaking out the majority of the time. I'm freaking out when I'm not working, and when I am working, which is the majority of the time, I am also freaking out on a kind of mental back-burner. I'm still glad I came to grad school, but I've definitely had the "What the hell am I doing here?" moments. A lot of them. Like, every day the week before last.
So, please don't feed me to Lrrr. I'll cry.
Don't try to rationalize the viking.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
