Tuesday, November 23, 2010

"You know who you are!"

I found this video absolutely fascinating:



This has apparently been going around the Interweb a bit, so you may have seen it, but for those who haven't, the Readers Digest Condensed Version is this: a professor of business at the University of Central Florida gave a mid-term exam, graded it, plugged the grades into a spreadsheet, looked at the results, and noticed that the grades on this particular mid-term were ticking noticeably higher than for midterm exams from previous semesters. Then someone anonymously provides him the obvious reason why: some students managed to get a copy of the "test bank" for the course and circulated it amongst a bunch of other students, who used it to prep themselves for the test. In other words: they cheated.

Now, I've been outside the realm of academia since I graduated college in 1993, so I had no idea what a "test bank" was. Basically, as I understand it, the companies that publish textbooks also provide, as a service to instructors, things called "test banks" which are nothing more than giant collections of test questions, from which instructors can then pull questions for their exams. My understanding is that in this case, there was a "test bank" of 700 questions from which 50 were drawn, so students using the test bank to prepare themselves had a pretty big job ahead of them. It seems to me that if those numbers are accurate, then maybe their time might have been better served just studying the course material. In fact, it seems to me that maybe a case can be made that when you prep for a test drawn from that many questions, maybe in a way you are studying the course material.

Anyway.

I've always found that there's something of a grey area when it comes to cheating. There are obvious cases of cheating, clearly: a kid who hacks a professor's computer to steal the test behorehand, or another kid who decides to plagiarize a paper for a course. But then there are things like this, where from certain perspectives, it certainly seems like cheating, while from others it just seems like...well, not really, I guess. It's cheating, but it's cheating that seems to me partially aided and abetted by "the system". It's not unlike the use of steroids in baseball in the 1990s: cheating, yes, but the system was set up at the time to make it very easy to do, with very little penalty.

The whole process of the way this course seems to operate seems a bit...lazy? Maybe that's too strong a word; certainly there seems to be an "assembly line" aspect of the teaching enterprise going on here. That prof gives lectures, and the students go off to "labs" to do...more coursework, I guess. There's not a whole lot of context here to go on, but the structure seems to put a lot of the work of running the course on the heads of the lab instructors, from grading the exams and homework to spending long hours creating a new mid-term exam once the old one has been compromised. But when you have 600 students taking a course, I suppose there really isn't a great alternative.

Some other things strike me from the video. First, the professor here continually refers to "forensic analysis of the data", which will presumably reveal all of the cheaters. I am no statistician, so I'd be interested to know how the data can reveal the difference between a student who prepared for the exam by use of the test bank and a student who prepared for the exam by traditional studying of the course material. He implies, a number of times, that the cheaters will soon stand revealed and that at that point, the folks from Academic Affairs -- whom he really seems to be going out of his way to make sound like a bunch of relentless Imperial Stormtroopers -- will decide their fates, particularly with the ominous statement, "I don't want to have to explain to your parents why you're not graduating." He also says something like "The net is closing around you even now!"

But then he also offers the cheaters a deal: all they have to do is admit that they cheated, and take a four-hour ethics course, and...all is forgotten. They'll take the same re-written midterm as anyone else and go on from there. Well, that certainly does not seem to me the type of offer one makes to someone when "the net is closing around them". It doesn't make sense to offer a deal that carries with it minimal effort and zero long-term consequences for the guilty if you're already certain of their guilt and are near to proving it. This whole part of the lecture strikes me as the kind of veiled threats of legal action that collection agencies use; for all their harsh language and legal-sounding threatening, it turns out that collection agencies are really pretty toothless.

And frankly, I as a student was present for more than a few instances where the teacher had to dress down the entire class for lack of specific knowledge as to which student did something naughty, and in my experience, the teacher or principal or whomever always pretty much lost the room when he or she uttered the phrase "You know who you are." (Actually, the prof in the video has an even more laughable line than that: "The days of students figuring out new ways to beat the system are over." Yeah, dude. Sure they are. As of this day, all future forms of cheating have been rendered impossible! Huzzah!!!)

I didn't really witness much outright cheating when I was a student. I myself never cheated, although the thought did occur to me a few times, here and there. I was always deterred more by the thought of dolorous consequences than by any good and noble commitment to my own learning, although I did generally think that I'd rather have a bad grade be my own doing than a good grade be artificially achieved. Generally, though, I just didn't have the confidence that I could pull it off and I certainly didn't want to get caught. I'm like the guy in Dial M For Murder who says that he only believes in the "perfect murder" on paper: "My murder would be like my bridge-playing -- I'd make some stupid mistake and only realize it when I noticed everybody else staring at me." Plus, since I was a Philosophy major, there really wasn't much you could do in terms of cheating beyond plagiarism -- and on plagiarism, I do have a pretty rigid moral code. But when your exams are all-essays all-the-time, well, you either know your shit or you don't.

There was one cheating incident that I remember fairly clearly, though, from my grade school years. In seventh grade, several classmates of mine somehow managed to get access to our math teacher's grade book, and they took that opportunity to take a pencil and adjust their own grades upward. I don't recall how they managed to score a few minutes of unsupervised time in her room, but they did. And then, afterwards, they bragged about it, so everybody knew. Someone blew them in, and that was that. One fine day we're gathered for class -- it's toward the end of the year -- and in storms the teacher, grade book in hand; she announces that she's just discovered that the grades in her grade book don't match the grades she routinely turns in to the Guidance office (a story she made up to cover the fact that someone had reported them, which everybody figured out anyway).

This particular teacher was...well, let's just say she was not one of my favorite teachers. At all. Never liked her in the slightest, although she was inexplicably beloved by most of the rest of the school. (It's the same teacher in Item #7 in this old post of mine.) After making her announcement, she proceeded to take malicious glee in tormenting the kids who had cheated, saying things like "Hey, you're looking a little pale there!" and stuff like that. I always thought that was crappy on her part -- you've got the kids by the hair, just take 'em down to the principal and be done with it. But that teacher sure enjoyed dealing out public humiliation to her chosen few. I don't recall what the consequences were for the cheaters in that instance, but it certainly made for an interesting few days in a small school.

Anyway, moral of the story: don't get the test bank.

Built a condo made of stone-uh

I figured that Steve Martin had forever left behind the days of the white suit and King Tut...but apparently not.



This makes me really happy, for some goofy reason.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Lumos

So, I took The Daughter to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows the other day. We loved the movie, just loved it; but then, we've loved the entire series to this point -- even the occasionally sickeningly-sweet first two, directed by Chris Columbus -- and this is the one where it all comes together. Some of this will involve spoilers, so my thoughts are below the fold.

Sentential Links #229

Linkage time....

:: Check that out! An actual series of dust storms blowing off the coats of Alaska!

:: But suffice to say that different people are going to respond differently to superlongevity, and that boredom and ennui will soon be treated as vestigial psychological states that will be self-regulated it if not eliminated altogether.

:: The word eye has to be one of the funniest words in the English language. Especially when it's said all by itself: "EYE!"

:: OK, who were the best bloggers and Twitterers from before the WWW, perhaps before the 20th century? Letter writers, pamphleteers, diarists – who of old would have been a Natural Born Blogger?

:: If you consult older editions of the Guinness Book Of World Records, you will see that Jean Grey did indeed hold the unchallenged record for "Fastest Blanket Bringing" for many years.

:: Man they are showing a lot of Abin Sur’s spaceship. That makes me worry. When the awesomest thing they’re showing is the spaceship that blows up in the first twenty minutes it kind of makes you wonder about, you know, the rest of the movie.

:: Leave for the airport NOW. Don't wait until the day of.

Bring no luggage. Wearing the same clothes for a week is a small price to pay. Plus, the airlines now charge you for check-in luggage AND blankets. Pretty soon pressurized air will also be extra.


:: There is a fire in my wood stove, and between that and two glasses of homebrew...I am very warm tonight. I just ate a simple dinner of pasta and red sauce—then with a slight buzz and a full belly—I pulled my fiddle off the shelf and played a few Irish tunes to light up the room.

All for this week!

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Sunday Burst of Weird and AWESOME!

Oddities and Awesome abound!

:: Ken Levine posted this, and it's absolutely hilarious, one of the funniest bits of product placement in a teevee show ever. (I think it's unintentionally funny, though.)



My favorite bit of product placement ever comes in Superman: the Movie. After Pa Kent has died and young Clark has found the green crystal, Ma Kent is up at dawn getting breakfast ready in the kitchen, and we see her hand plunk a box of Cheerios down on the table, just so its label catches the sunlight. Hilarious...especially in the end credits, when there is actually a screen credit reading "Cheerios by General Mills".

In general, I tend to actually prefer it when people on teevee or movies use real products. I always found it more distracting to see cola cans that were obviously Pepsi cans, but with "Pepsi" replaced by the word "Cola". I find that almost as distracting as any time someone recites a phone number. Hearing "555-xxxx" is glaring on the ears, but after years of hearing "555" prefixes, whenever a more daring movie uses a real-sounding prefix, that stands out too. I now think that movies and teevee shows should never have characters saying phone numbers out loud. At all.

:: My friend Aaron sent me this photo of a business whose building is obviously an old Pizza Hut. I should go around and take photos here of former PH's that are now something else. There are a lot of former PH's in Buffalo.

:: I'd love to try a bite of this. But no more than a bite. Wow, my heart stutters when I just look at the pictures.

More next week!

How I spent International Overalls Day

IOD: Bib

Well, basically, today was for me just another day out and about...but even a bit of online funnery called International Overalls Day made it more enjoyable, in some weird way. So here's how I spent the day (after initial coffee):

I guess I'll wait for my unavoidable doom, then

Via Palgolak:



Yeah...I'm screwed.

IOD: Zombie weapon?

No, I don't think that a dip pen is likely to slow down an encroaching zombie. Sure, it's nice and sharp so maybe I could use the pen to stab the zombie in the brain, but I'm not sure it would penetrate through the skull into the zombie's brain on one shot, and I'm not sure the pen is strong enough to retain its shape and sharpness for a second stabbing attempt. Or maybe I could pour the rum from my hip flask onto the zombie and then use the matches to set the beastie aflame, but there's less than eight ounces of rum in there. Not sure that would make an effective enough, or large enough, flame to bring the zombie to a stop.

I have a feeling that if a zombie cornered me at my desk, I'd be seriously out of luck.

Happy Overalls Day!


IOD: Coffee, originally uploaded by Jaquandor.

It's International Overalls Day, or as I call it, "Saturday". Originally created by Niels Windfeld Lund, a University professor from Norway who manages to out-do even my devotion to the Sacred Garment, this day is just a time for like-minded goofballs the world over to bask in fellowship and sweet, denim comfort. There's a Facebook page and everything.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need more coffee.

Friday, November 19, 2010

I probably hate this, so let me tell you what I think of it!

Here's the kind of review of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows that's driving me crazy. I've seen a bunch of these over the last few days, all striking the same kind of tone, but this one takes the cake. Why oh why oh why should I take even remotely seriously the opinion of a person who leads off thusly:

Fans know the tales better than I; I stopped reading the books after the third entry, and have only enjoyed the movies intermittently. The first two, directed by Chris Columbus, were too faithful to their source material to have much life or personality. The next couple had moments of macabre delight in part because they strayed from their predecessors' literalness but also felt curiously static; formula crushed the energy from them to the point that I skipped the fifth altogether. I did see the sixth, but cannot remember a single frame.


I'm not saying you have to be a fan to review the film, but it's the final chapter of a larger tale. If you're going to grapple with it, then you really should have some working knowledge of what has gone before. This kind of thing is like reviewing, oh, A Tale of Two Cities and saying, "Well, I didn't really like the first ten chapters, skipped a bunch of the next ones, but here's my take on the book's last six chapters anyway."

Ultimately this goes back to my deep, deep aversion to the whole notion of "objectivity" where Art is concerned. I remember arguments I'd have on rec.music.movies, for instance, where someone would say, "Well, the score to [Movie Title Here] is nice, but when you listen to it objectively, you realize it's not that good." I'd respond with the obvious point that no, you're not being "objective", you're just being negative but trying to give yourself an air of authority by claiming "objectivity".

I submit that if someone says "I really don't know anything about Harry Potter", then their opinion on the new movie is next to useless. And that goes for everyone, including Roger Ebert. If someone who loves Harry Potter doesn't like the film, that's interesting to me. Otherwise, it's just people who don't like spinach offering reviews of a cookbook of spinach recipes.

All prophecies come true if you wait long enough....

Fifteen years ago, I was in Year Two of what would be a four-year stint working at Pizza Hut in Olean, NY as a shift manager. One thing I remember from back then was the way upper management was constantly exhorting us to compare ourselves to other restaurants. "Are we as good as McDonald's? Are we as good as Burger King?" And so on. And it wasn't just the chains that were already in place, either -- they were constantly kvetching over the places that hadn't even come into our region yet.

For instance, there's a chain of fast-food Italian restaurants called Fazoli's that announced that it was coming into Western New York, and they were coming hard, with lots of locations. Cue the ensuing panic amongst the Pizza Hut folks. We had to be on our toes! We had to be ready! Well, Fazoli's came...and went. They opened, there was much fanfare, they operated for a while, and within five or six years, they all closed. So much for them.

There was an even scarier chain out there, though. This chain had the higher-ups at PH quaking in their boots. We heard their name invoked at every major meeting we attended, and our store managers brought back the latest rumors from every major meeting they attended. This other chain was coming. They were expanding very quickly, and when they finally touched down in WNY, we were going to have all we could handle keeping our business. The chain?

Papa John's.

Which, as it happened, never came.

There was never a Papa John's, not one, while we worked for PH, not even as late as fall 2000, when The Wife left PH to work somewhere else. We wouldn't even see a Papa John's until fall of 2002, when we moved to Syracuse. We ordered from there once, we kinda liked it, but it wasn't anything special. And wouldn't you know it -- Syracuse's two or three Papa John's locations closed while we were living there. And six months later we moved back to Buffalo anyway.

Flash forward to this morning, when one of my Facebook friends posted something about the Papa John's pizza they ate last night. It seems that as of two months or so ago, Papa John's has finally touched down in Western New York. With a single location. I, of course, no longer care, having (a) left Pizza Hut as an employee almost thirteen years ago, and (b) having pretty much sworn off chain pizza anyway.

But I do wonder if the local PH higher-ups are still nervous about Papa John's.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Yes, Virginia, you CAN like Star Wars!

This little girl loves Star Wars -- but the boys in her class shamed her into leaving her Star Wars water bottle at home.

I remember this kind of crap from when I was a kid. I didn't see it as bullying, which I always interpret in its more brutal traditional forms: the group of big kids hanging out on a particular corner because they know the smaller, weaker kid has to pass that way to get home, for example. But this kind of relentless "Make fun of her until she buckles" stuff is bullying, as much as any "Hey kid, gimme your lunch money" thuggery. But I like this father's approach: blog the story, solicit comments from women who love Star Wars too, and use those comments to show the kid (who is really cute, by the way) that it's OK to like Star Wars and that those little boys can suck it.

Yes, I'm a guy who loves Star Wars. But I know plenty of women who love it too, and as a kid, I might not have come to love it had I not had a bigger sister who, at the time, adored it.

And besides, the little girl can always point out that if Star Wars is for boys, why is it that so many men in the movies get their asses kicked by two women, Padme and Leia?

The winner will receive a swimming pool filled with "Meh".

I've gotta say, the current seasons of both Survivor and Hell's Kitchen aren't really doing it for me. Neither show is presenting any kind of favorite, any kind of contestant whom I want to see win. I'm almost thinking, maybe both shows should forego a winner this year and give next season's winner two grand prizes.

I've missed some of Survivor this go-round, owing to its new Wednesday timeslot, but wow, what a bunch of doofuses. These are people who left their camp in last night's episode to go to a challenge, and who decided to build a barrier for their big campfire, between the fire and their lean-to shelter, out of their wooden storage chests. Which caught fire, destroying all of their food stores and their shelter. Nobody deserves to win after that.

As for Hell's Kitchen, well -- Sabrina's gone, because she was just too juvenile to make it to the end. Gail and Russell seem to both do well in challenges, and then crash and burn in the services. Nona and Jillian are just kind of there. And Trev? Here's a guy who thought that cooking frog's legs was thinking "outside the box". For a dish he was preparing for, among others, a French judge.

It's still fun to watch the shows, I guess, but without anyone to root for, it's just watching something dull unfold. I hope the next seasons are better.

Something for Thursday

(Yeah, I screwed up the date when I scheduled this post, which is why it was here, then it wasn't, and now it's back. Oops.)

A lot of my friends from work are either hunters or married to hunters. I'm not into hunting myself, but lots of people I know are. With hunting season about to kick off in a big way here in Western New York, here's a selection in their honor. From the opera Der Freischutz by Carl Maria von Weber: the Huntsmen's Chorus.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

I am Locutus!


Locutus, originally uploaded by Jaquandor.

You will service me. All your power tools will be added to my own!

I bought a Brinkmann LED headlamp the other day, for use when I'm on the scissor-lift at work -- oft times I'm doing work up there above the level of our lights and occasionally a little light would be helpful. Now, I'll have it, by strapping this thing to my hard hat. Interestingly, it has a red light for night vision. Cool!

Wow, do I love tools!

A Random Wednesday Conversation Starter

Would you rather have a smaller package at the same price, or the same size package at a higher price?

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Fantasy vs. Reality

Great quote from Sean Connery:

It’s great to put across fantasy. It’s a constant surprise how reality is harder to put across than fantasy. I never forget that Stephen Crane wrote a very fine book about war, The Red Badge of Courage, although he’d never been in a war. And then he wrote a very bad book called Shipwreck, although he had been in a shipwreck. And this explains a lot of things.


Via (in comments).

X-Files Case Report: "Deep Throat"



"Mr. Mulder, why are those like yourself who believe in the existence of extraterrestrial life on this Earth not dissuaded by all the evidence to the contrary?"

"Because...all the evidence to the contrary is not entirely dissuasive."

"Precisely."

"They're here, aren't they?"

"Mr. Mulder, they've been here for a long, long time."


That exchange comes at the end of "Deep Throat", the second episode of The X-Files. Even more than the Pilot, "Deep Throat" establishes a lot of the groundwork for what is to come over the course of the series. More tropes are introduced: Government secrecy and conspiracies; government collusion with apparent alien visitors; shadowy governmental agencies which are apparently above the law; the continual failure of Agents Mulder and Scully to come away from their investigations with any proof at all of what they know to be the case. And most importantly – indicated by the title of the episode – the establishment of an inside source of information who will be Mulder's confidant and informant, but who may or may not be on Mulder's side.

This story takes place mainly in an Idaho town near an Air Force Base that does not appear on any maps, due to the secretive nature of its work. A pilot there has turned up at home, cowering in the corner and covered with terrible rashes and skin lesions. The Air Force takes him into custody, and holds on to him for several months, telling his family nothing at all of his whereabouts or status. Somehow Mulder gets wind of this and tells Scully that "we're heading to the Spud State to investigate a little kidnapping." When Scully asks why Mulder is interested in an apparent kidnapping with no "paranormal" element, Mulder replies, "This case has a smell to it. A certain 'paranormal bouquet'."

But before leaving for Idaho, Mulder is confronted by a dark-suited man who tries to warn him off the case and tells him that he can give Mulder information when it is in his best interest to do so. We'll never learn this man's name; we will only know him as "Deep Throat" (which I don't recall anyone in the show actually calling him). This, too, will be something of a meme throughout the show's run: people telling Mulder things in sufficiently vague terms that he doesn't really have a great deal of choice to make.

Off go Mulder and Scully to Idaho, where they learn that experimental aircraft are being tested – but the aircraft are capable of speeds and maneuvers impossible in current aeronautical technology, which leads Mulder to hypothesize that the government is working on technology gleaned from the UFO that crashed in Roswell, NM in 1947 (the Air Force base in the episode being one of the places to which wreckage of that craft was taken). Suddenly the missing pilot is returned to his family, but he seems very strange now, oddly passive and childlike, and he can't remember anything. Mulder thinks he has had memories erased, but Scully thinks that's impossible; more likely, the strange pilots up there are the washouts of a testing program who couldn't handle the stress.

Anyway, our two agents meet a couple of teenagers (one of whom is played by a young Seth Green) who like to sneak onto the AFB grounds and watch the test flights (which happen at night), which of course leads Mulder to do the same...only he gets caught, after seeing one of the aircraft up close and personal. Mulder's whisked away by men who are doing something medical to him. Meanwhile, Scully is on her own and has to figure out how to get Mulder back, which she finally does – only to discover that he has no memory of the last twelve hours. They return to Washington, with Scully indicating in her field report the completely inconclusive nature of their investigation. Mulder, meanwhile, meets again with his new informant. The exchange above closes out the show.

"Deep Throat" is a fine, fine episode, and in retrospect, it's probably one of the most important in the series's run. It establishes so much of the dynamic that would later dominate the show's developing mythology, especially the knack Mulder has for being right while never being able to come up with any evidence. I also like how Mulder and Scully are still at odds quite a bit of the time, with the trust between them still not there and with Scully basically approaching her assignment to the X-files with professionalism but also with skepticism bordering on conviction that all of it is complete BS.

This episode also establishes the high level of production values that were a key part of the success of The X-Files. Many shots are downright cinematic in nature, as is the way the showrunners are able to shoot around the Vancouver area in ways that double for the less-mountainous areas of Idaho. I also liked the framing of the episode's final scene, in which Mulder is jogging on a college track when Deep Throat comes to visit him; there is a nice combination of long shots and close-ups that makes the scene nice to look at. The X-Files is often credited with bringing cinematic production values to television, and it's easy to see this influence in this episode.

So, what is to come? The truth, after all, is out there!

(Oh, this was also the first episode to use the show's signature titles sequence, complete with Mark Snow's distinctive X-Files Theme and the "Truth is out there" tag line. The pilot's credits had simply run over the opening scene, after the teaser.)

Monday, November 15, 2010

It's like the song, George! Downtown! There's your answer!

Here at Casa Jaquandor, our regular day to go to the library is Thursday. That's carved in stone. We always go on Thursday. Except for weeks when Thursday is some kind of holiday, such as the upcoming Thanksgiving Day...or last week, when Veterans Day fell on a Thursday. So, we decided to postpone until Saturday, and instead of going to our own Orchard Park Public Library, we headed instead into downtown Buffalo and the Central Library. We've been to the Central Library a few times, but not in a while; we like to get down there a few times a year. One great thing about living in a county where all the libraries are members of a larger County Library system is that you have access to all the books, county-wide; but that's only a help if you know what you want. For browsing, you're limited to what's available at the library you actually visit. Now, the Orchard Park Library is a lovely facility and over the years we've spent a lot of time browsing there. But the Central Library is something else.

First, though, we had to actually get down there, into downtown Buffalo. And that meant...Route 5 and the Skyway, which is actually our favorite route into the city anyway. Below the fold are photos from the day.

Eight years in

Sheila O'Malley has been blogging for eight years. I was actually blogging before she was -- this February I'm coming up on nine years -- but on the occasions when I get a horrible case of "blog envy", the awful feeling one gets after reading someone else's blog post of "Ah, so that's how it's done and I'll never figure out how to do it myself", the cause is almost always one of Sheila's posts. Her blog is one of the marvels of the Interweb, and I'll have words with anyone says otherwise!

Sentential LInks #228

Linkage! Linkage! Linkage!!!

:: At one point, Becca turned to me and said: "She's the only reason we're watching this. If you weren't attracted to her, we'd probably have turned this off half an hour ago."

:: I'm pretty much a genfic guy. Light romance is okay, especially if it's funny, but for the most part I'm the farthest thing possible from a relationshipper. I don't want characters to get smooshed together; I want to watch them interact. I'm not a big fan of pure romance, and I really don't want porn. My big thing is that I like seeing the characters relate as friends.

:: Well, that's nice, but monarchy is still a flawed system of government!

:: But what I want to know is what could a 6-year-old possibly lobby for in student council? Free chocolate milk? Longer recess? Pajama day once a week?

:: i can't believe that our society has come to a point where it's more shocking to the general public to wear full length denim overalls than to wear underwear for shorts. these are things that just don't make sense to me and never will.

:: After the Star Wars series played out, Boba Fett had a little known career in B-movies.

:: I hate it when characters who were heroic in an earlier film turn bad in a sequel; it's not dramatic, it's lazy sensationalism, and it's a slap in the face to fans who grew up admiring the original vision of the character.

:: Don’t worry though, my friends. When I hit it big, I won’t make the same mistake. I won’t be giving it away through a series of outlandish stunts either. No, I’m going to do the right thing with the money – I’m going to buy a bunch of completely unnecessary and awesome stuff.

More next week!

Sunday, November 14, 2010

"I only am escaped alone to tell thee."



Sheila O'Malley points out that today is the 149th anniversary of the publishing of Moby Dick, with a typically fantastic post on the book. I've started -- and stopped -- reading Moby Dick a number of times over the years, ever since college, but just a month or so ago I finally got all the way through it. My original notion was to serialize it for myself, reading two or maybe three chapters a night, as Moby Dick is comprised of 135 very short chapters. I figured that taking the book in small chunks would make it, oh, more digestible. What I didn't expect was that this manner of reading the book didn't make it more "digestible" at all -- at this point, it turns out that I'm able to digest the book just fine. What my self-serialization of Moby Dick did was make the book more exciting. Much more exciting -- and this is all the more amazing, seeing as how if you distill the book down to just those parts where something is actually happening, it's probably only about a hundred pages long.

I was lucky in that I knew very little about Moby Dick, aside from the "big picture" stuff. What I knew was this: A guy we're supposed to call "Ishmael" gets a job on a whaling ship, the Pequod, which is skippered by a fiercely grim Captain Ahab, who lost one of his legs to a white whale upon whom he has vowed vengeance. Off they go, presumably to do some normal whaling, but in reality to seek out the white whale, named Moby Dick. They find the white whale, in the end, but Ahab and everyone else on the Pequod perishes in the struggle. Everyone else save Ishmael, who floats away to safety atop a coffin carved by his drowned friend, a savage named Queequeg.

And of course, I knew that Moby Dick played a thematic role in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, in which Khan views James T. Kirk as his own White Whale, even dying with the same words as Ahab: "From Hell's heart I stab at thee! For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee!"

The greater part of Moby Dick is given not to the story of the pursuit of the whale. Nor is it given to deep analyses of the psychology of whalemen, alone on their ships at sea for months or even years at a time, with their only other human contact coming when they meet other whaling ships. The bulk of the book is given to the whales and their nature and their hunting. Chapter after chapter after chapter goes by, each dealing with some aspect or other of whales and whaling, and it's in this way that we do, in fact, gain insight into the psychology of whalemen and in the nature of Ahab's pursuit -- for as we learn these things, we start to learn just what it is that Ahab is after.

The book opens, before the first chapter, with many pages of quotes Melville has tracked down pertaining to whales. He must have been steeped in the literature of the sea back then, to have been able to collect all these:

"So be cheery, my lads, let your hearts never fail,
While the bold harpooner is striking the whale!"

Nantucket song.


It's interesting that the book proper opens with that famous line, "Call me Ishmael", when we lose track of the narrator for great swathes of the book at a time. Ishmael disappears entirely, as does Queequeg and Starbuck and even Ahab and the Pequod much of the time. I wonder if in some way Melville isn't trying to ultimately get us to identify not with any of them but with Moby Dick himself?

One final observation, which I've made before (I know I said it on Facebook, anyway): while Moby Dick's opening line is one of the most famous in all literature, I find the opening sentence of the second chapter to be strangely evocative of the adventure to come:

I stuffed a shirt or two into my old carpet-bag, tucked it under my arm, and started for Cape Horn and the Pacific.


Interesting, then, that we follow Ishmael as far as the side of the water -- and from that point on, we don't follow him much at all.

(The image atop this post is from a painting called Whale Fishery, by Ambroise Louis Garneray. The painting is used as the cover art for the edition of Moby Dick that I read.)

What does it mean when our guys score more than the other guys?

The Bills won! The Bills won! The Bills won! So, no pie in the face of my cartoon Bills fan this week.

But now, I'm sure that some Bills fans are disturbed by a victory now, since the focus for many here has changed from winning this year to securing the best possible draft pick for next year. The Bills have been streaking toward the first overall pick, with which they would hopefully be able to pick the best quarterback in the draft (hopefully either Andrew Luck or Ryan Mallett; hopefully not Jake Locker, whose stock has been dropping). So, now that most teams have played nine games, let's look at the Bills versus the other teams who are in position to end up picking first.

The Bills, of course, are now 1-8 on the year. If they pick first and Luck or Mallett are there, the Bills will almost certainly take one of those two. The question mark right now is whether or not Luck will actually decide to enter the draft or remain in college. He has indicated in the past that he plans to return to Stanford next year, and Buffalo News columnist Jerry Sullivan is constantly pointing out that Luck may see that he'd be drafted by Buffalo and decide not to enter the draft, especially since his coach, Jim Harbaugh, rejected the Bills' head coaching job last year. The motivating factor in favor of Luck's entering the draft is money: when the NFL gets its new collective bargaining agreement, there will almost certainly be some sort of salary cap structure for rookies, so there is a big chance that the 2011 Draft will be the last one where rookies can get enormous contracts to launch their careers. And who knows? Maybe Luck will look at the Bills and see a team with more potential than many thought before the year started. They're not a total wasteland of talent, after all. We'll see.

Also sitting on a single win are the Carolina Panthers, who are also really bad. I don't know much about the Panthers, but I do know that they drafted one of the top QB prospects last year in Jimmy Clausen, so I tend to think that unless Clausen looks really awful, the Panthers are unlikely to be looking for a QB next year. So, if the Bills end up picking behind them, maybe they still get a shot at Luck.

Next up, at 2-7, we have the Cowboys, Lions, and Bengals. I'm not sure I see any of these teams looking to go QB high in the draft -- maybe the Bengals, if their almost-certain new coaching staff decides that Carson Palmer needs a change of scenery. I don't see the Cowboys dumping Tony Romo, and the Lions still have last year's top pick, Matthew Stafford, as their young prospect. Stafford seems to have some injury problems, though, that could put the Lions in the QB market. But I'm not so sure.

Then there are the 3-win clubs. The Bills are almost certainly not going to win three games, so I think there is very little chance that any of these clubs will end up edging the Bills in terms of draft position. But, you never know! So, our 3-win teams are the Browns, Broncos, Vikings, and the Cardinals. The Browns have a QB prospect drafted just this year in Colt McCoy, and the Broncos traded up to get Tim Tebow, so both teams may be looking to draft something other than a QB. Not so those other two teams, though; the Vikings absolutely need to address their future QB situation, with Brett Favre looking worse and worse, and the same goes for the Cardinals, unless Derek Anderson somehow manages to turn it on over the rest of this season (unlikely).

So, it seems to me that even if the Bills don't end up picking first overall, they might still have their pick of quarterbacks if they end up picking behind Carolina, Dallas, Detroit, Cleveland, Denver, and maybe Cincinnati. They're screwed, however, if they're beaten for draft position by the Vikings or Cardinals.

Another scenario that could screw the Bills anyway is if any of those bad teams end up (a) drafting ahead of the Bills, and (b) firing their current coaching staff and hiring Jim Harbaugh, who might well decide to draft his college standout, Andrew Luck. But we'll worry about that when it happens....

Food Is Fun!!!


One of the Finest of Meals, originally uploaded by Jaquandor.

I haven't blogged about food lately, so...here's a post about food.

:: Up there in the photo is my dinner from the other night, when The Family and I went to Ted's Hot Dogs, a Buffalo institution. If you don't live in Buffalo, here's another reason to move here. The hot dogs are cooked to order over a charcoal grill (yes, they have industrial-strength hoods over their grills), and then topped with whatever. My usual default is mustard and onions, but lately I've been rediscovering relish, so I got one with mustard and relish. They also have terrific onion rings, and their fries are OK. Ted's rules.

(Actually, for some reason they also have a single location in Tempe, AZ, so if you live there or are heading there, you can get yourself a little fix of Buffalo.)

:: I made an easy chicken casserole the other night. Here's the formula:

1.5 lb chicken
2 cans cream of chicken soup
1.5 cans of milk
.5 lb shredded cheddar cheese
1 box of chicken-flavored stuffing mix (or equivalent amount of homemade stuffing), cooked according to directions.

Cook the chicken, shred, and put into a greased casserole dish. Add the cans of soup and then use the cans to measure out 1.5 cans of milk (or less, if you want your casserole thicker). Stir this all up. Now layer the shredded cheese on top of the soup-and-chicken mixture, and top with the stuffing. Bake at 375 until bubbly.

I forgot to take a picture, sadly enough.

Sunday Burst of Weird and AWESOME!

Oddities and Awesome abound!

:: Check out this great compilation of behind-the-scenes photos from Star Trek: The Next Generation, which also includes photos from the four TNG movies. Stellar Cartography was a really cool set -- and there are a couple of really creepy photos there of Alice Krige as the Borg Queen from First Contact, when they were filming the bit where the Queen was nothing but a head and a spinal column. I also like the "Man In Suit!" shot of the guy who played the oil slick that killed Tasha Yar, Jonathan Frakes looking like he's coming on to women constantly, and a couple of shots of close-ups where you see that the poor actors are acting with a big-ass camera about ten inches from their faces.

And here are my two favorites. This is Brent Spiner, Rick Berman (the main Trek producer during the 1990s), Patrick Stewart, and, sitting in the Captain's chair, Trek composer-extraordinaire Jerry Goldsmith.



And I'm not sure when this next one was taken -- probably from the set of either Insurrection or Nemesis. I'd remember if I could place those alien dudes Patrick Stewart is mugging to, but the first of those two films was merely forgettable while the second was awful. But that's not the reason for posting this photo, anyway.



Yup -- there's Deanna Troi herself, the ever-gorgeous Marina Sirtis, finely sporting a pair of overalls. Huzzah!

(I always thought Sirtis was utterly beautiful, and a fine actress to boot. I remember being glad when the producers finally realized that she was a gorgeous woman who didn't need plunging necklines and skimpy skirts to look gorgeous, and just put her in a regular old Starfleet uniform.)

:: This is the kind of thing I wish I could think of. I wonder who makes 'em? Come on, Cal, give us a link!!!

:: This is kind of strange. Over at ToolGuyD, one of my favorite blogs on hardware and tools, a post recently appeared scoffing at a very weird new tool being made by Husky. (Seriously -- that tool is just strange. I looked at it at Home Depot last week, and I couldn't believe what a goofy item it is.) Well, they've since received a number of posts on that tool in comments that they now believe to be posted by shills either for Husky or for Home Depot. It's all very strange! Why go to this level of chicanery to try to stand up for a 48-in-1 ratcheting wrench that looks just plain odd?

More next week!

Saturday, November 13, 2010

The Beatles Song of the Week: "While My Guitar Gently Weeps"

Well, maybe I should rename this series of posts, since there's an element of weekliness that is implied and which I am not achieving at all. Oh well...I guess we'll just have to stipulate that I never claimed that there would be a Beatles song for every week, but rather that I'll be posting about the song when there happens to be a Beatles Song of the Week.

I'm not sure that made any sense at all, but let's plow on, shall we? "While My Guitar Gently Weeps":



This song's genesis, as related by Wikipedia, is fascinating. The key phrase "gently weeps" were apparently the result of Harrison choosing to write a song using the first words he saw upon opening a book at random. The song also came at the time when the Beatles were deeply involved in their explorations of Eastern sprituality.

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it need sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps

I don't know why nobody told you
how to unfold your love
I don't know how someone controlled you
they bought and sold you

I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps

I don't know how you were diverted
you were perverted too
I don't know how you were inverted
no one alerted you

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at you all
Still my guitar gently weeps


Harrison's lyrics suggest that in a universe of constant change (he was reading the I Ching, the Chinese Book of Changes, at the time), there is still on unending constant: the gentle weeping of his guitar. The guitar is eternal; it is unchanging, and all the world's strife and flux is almost illusory in the face of the guitar and its tones. Even "you" are changing: the "you" of the song has been "diverted", "perverted", and "inverted". "You" were "bought" and "sold" and "controlled", and your love remains folded. Ouch. That sounds pretty dark, indeed.

It's not just the guitar that's eternal, though; it's the singer himself, who casts himself as the player of the eternal guitar and the observer of our transient world. The singer is placed outside the world: he can see its turning, he can see the sleeping love, and in a particularly fascinating lyric, he can see the floor needing. That last strikes me: usually we'd say "The floor needs sweeping", which we take to actually mean "You need to sweep the floor." But the way Harrison frames it in his lyric, it's the floor that is doing the needing here. How can a floor "need"? And yet, it does.

In terms of the song's sound, the guitar's solos suggest the very eternal nature of the weeping by finding a single note to stay around for long periods of time. You hear the guitar keep coming back to same note, over and over and over again, before it finally moves on and finds a different note to constantly return to. The song's rhythm drives forward constantly, even in the 'B' sections where we briefly turn to a more lyrical tone. The guitar in the song isn't really gently weeping -- but it's certainly constant, unchanging in the face of a world of change.

This is about as far from "She loves you, yeah yeah yeah!" as you can get. What a band.

Hacking at the weeds

After a long time of inactivity, I've decided that it's time to start selling books and such on eBay again, in an effort to weed the collection a bit and to raise a bit of money for Christmas or for buying power tools for myself. You never know...but there's a new eBay button in the sidebar (down below the link to my Flickr stream). Maybe there's something there that's perfect for the reader in your family!

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Something for Thursday

The other day, I said of Mozart's Sinfonia concertante:

I can think of few pieces of music more sunny in nature, more optimistically life-affirming, than the ever-wonderful K364.


Well, you be the judge.







What I love most about this piece is that it's an object lesson that a work of art need not necessarily be dark, gloomy, or pessimistic to be profound.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Hmmmm...needs more dog.

A lot of my search engine traffic is for my recipe for Chicken Wing Soup, so I figure I owe it to those folks to note that I tinkered with my recipe and made it, in my opinion, better by smoothing out the soup's texture a bit. So make some Chicken Wing Soup!

Chaos in action

Note the framing of this video as it starts, implying the direction the big smokestack is expected to fall after the demolition explosives are set off.



Whoops!

(It's funny because nobody was killed or injured, but this could have been an awful tragedy.)

A word picture

The woman who entered the cafe was tall and thin, dressed in tight jeans, a form-fitting hot pink t-shirt, and a long black cardigan. In the style of the day, she had a wispy lavender scarf twirled around her neck. Her thick, black hair fell to the middle of her back, with one long lock, colored in that dark purplish-red that dark-haired women sometimes like, draped over her left shoulder. Her glasses made her look studious, as did the tote bag containing at least three books that she let fall to the chair in the same motion with which she set her plate down. The plate contained a single slice of pepperoni pizza, and when she sat down, she produced from her book bag a travel-worn water bottle that had the look of having been to the Serengeti once or twice.

Before she ate, she carefully -- ever so carefully -- opened the newspaper that the previous customer had left on the table, selected the section she wanted to read, and then -- also so carefully, ever so carefully -- opened the section to an inner page, and folded the paper open in a series of quick, practiced motions that called to mind those of the great masters of origami, that she might read the story that interested her without wrestling with the entire paper.

She laid the paper on the table in front of her, took another sip of water. In her left hand she lifted the slice of pizza, and then she looked around one last time, as if seeking a missed companion, before she lifted the pizza to her mouth.

Whereupon she seized the slice with her teeth, point first, and ripping the rest of the slice away with her hand as she chewed with abandon, ignoring the gob of cheese hanging down over her chin until she had swallowed and washed the bite down with another draw from the water bottle. It was then that she placed the slice back down on the plate, took a napkin from the holder, wiped her chin, and then resumed her savage attack on her pizza slice.

She consumed that slice in little more than 79 seconds, washed the last bite down with one last sip, and then in one motion that also must have been practiced, rose from her chair, slung her book tote over her shoulder, grabbed her empty plate and four used napkins, and headed for the exit, her long, oversized cardigan billowing out as she went.

Leaving me to wonder how a woman with that body ever got that body by eating with such savage glee.

More tools for the job

On the way home from work today I was listening to the local Sports Talk radio station, and they were doing a brief bit with former Buffalo Sabre Rob Ray, who talks on the station on days when the Buffalo Sabres play. At one point, the conversation turns to athletes and their use of Twitter, and one of the hosts asked Ray if he had any plans to start a Twitter account.

Ray's response was along the line of this: "No way, man! My phone is ancient and you can barely text with it! How am I gonna do Twitter?"

And I'm thinking, Geez, the cell phone has become so dominant in our culture that we forget that there are things called computers?

Every so often I read articles either online or in magazines like WIRED which predict the demise of the PC, the laptop, and pretty much anything bigger than an iPad. I'm clearly no Luddite, but I like my laptop and I have no desire for something like an iPad, which I'm pretty sure would be a pain-in-the-ass to write with. I want a full keyboard, a screen that's at least 15 inches, and I'm not impressed with something that's super-super thin.

Come to that, I'm not sure I like anything in which thin-ness is touted as a highly desirable quality. Super-thin pizza? Meh. Thin models are ugly models. Thin computers? Do not want.

Yeah. Give the fat tools, please. Give me your big, your bulky, your heavy masses yearning to generate lots of lap heat!

A Random Wednesday Conversation Starter

I've set this post to publish at about the same time I'm getting up today: 3:00 am. This is because of a bunch of jobs at The Store that need doing, which have to be done very early before the associated departments start doing their thing (i.e., before they start handling food). The extra money associated with the overtime will be nice, but 3:00 am is just an awful time to get up.

So: what's the earliest you can get up where you're not thinking along the lines of, "Oh crap, I'm up now. Ugh ugh ugh."?

Tuesday, November 09, 2010

X-Files Case Report: "Pilot"



So I've decided to embark on something of a long-term project here: rewatching The X-Files. I'd like to rewatch the entire series, start to finish, series pilot to final episode of Season Nine, with the first movie (Fight the Future) thrown in between Seasons Five and Six, and culminating in the movie from a couple of years ago (which I still haven't seen). Obviously this will take a while, and while I'm not going to try to do this on a weekly basis, I'm hoping for at least two or three of these a month. Maybe more, when I watch them in clusters, as may well happen.

Why? Well, why not? Among the blogs I follow which focus on F/SF/H stuff, rewatches of movies and teevee series and re-reads of books and book series are always in vogue, and right now, nobody that I follow is doing an X-Files rewatch, which gives me a niche. This also gives me a longterm source of content (always nice), and it gives me an excuse to revisit a show that was once beloved to me.

Don't get me wrong, there: as far as I know, I still love The X-Files. The show was an iron-clad, "can't miss it" event at Casa Jaquandor for most of its run. But with relatively few exceptions, I only saw the episodes a single time each, upon their initial airings; and there are quite a few episodes from the first three seasons that I've never seen. I'm interested now, seventeen years after Season One, partly in how well the show has aged. We'll see!

My fandom of The X-Files was slow to blossom. I was only dimly aware of the show's existence for most of the first season. In fact, this was back when FOX was still a fairly fledgling network with only a couple of notable shows to its name (The Simpsons, Married With Children), and if I remember correctly, back then, FOX didn't even have enough shows to put together and entire weekly lineup. (In some ways, FOX still doesn't. There are no 10:00 shows on FOX.) I heard of this show that had FBI agents investigating paranormal stuff, but I didn't watch until my mother, who did watch, recommended the show to me. So I saw a couple of episodes during the first season and came away somewhat favorably impressed, but my attention wasn't grabbed enough to make me a regular viewer until somewhere in the middle of Season Three.

I'm lucky that I came along then, and not later; the show's "mytharc" was still pretty manageable at that point, and a new viewer could pick up the basics pretty quickly. I do remember, though, a special episode that aired sometime toward the end of Season Three that was basically a summation of the show to that point. I found that very helpful, and a short while later, the show's popularity led to video releases of early episodes. Of course, this was before DVD, so these video releases consisted of sets of VHS tapes with two episodes each, and only selected episodes at that – no complete seasons here, just the most important "mytharc" shows with a few of the better "monster of the week" shows thrown in. Anyway, I was hooked, and I didn't fall by the wayside until Season Nine, which struck me as rudderless, pallid, and just too-much-of-a-good-thing. We'll see what we find as we go, though.

Which brings me to the Pilot Episode. It opens with a teaser sequence, set in the Pacific Northwest, that shows a girl in her nightrobe running through a forest, until she stumbles in a clearing. Here she is met by a human-shaped figure (whose features we cannot see) who is accompanied by a brilliant light; the wind whips up, there is lots of noise, the leaves are blown in circles around them as the light brightens. Cut to twelve hours later, and the girl's body is found in the clearing by the cops, sporting two circular wounds near her backside. The chief ID's the body, noting that she went to school with his son; another cop says, "Class of 1989? It's happening again, isn't it?"

Cut to Washington, DC and the FBI Headquarters, where a beautiful young agent named Dana Scully reports to her superiors for assignment. She is to work alongside another agent, named Fox Mulder, who has been using his time to investigate cases that are outside the official FBI mainstream. These cases, called "the X-files", are the kinds of thing nobody wants anything to do with – except for Agent Mulder, who later suggests that it's only by way of his friends in Congress that he is able to do this work at all. Scully is being assigned for her scientific, skeptical approach; when she asks if she is being expected to debunk Mulder's work, her superiors manage to say Yes and No in that wonderful bureaucratic way of not saying much at all. Off Scully goes to meet Agent Mulder, who has just caught wind of this strange case brewing out in the Pacific Northwest. After some introductions, Mulder briefs Scully on the odd case and the wounds on the bodies (of which there are four), and then they're off to Oregon to do some investigating.

This really is one of the better pilot episodes to a show I've seen. In the space of about five to ten minutes, we get: an intriguing mystery for the first episode; an establishment of a supernatural/paranormal mood; the introduction of our two main characters, both to us and to each other; the establishment of certain tropes within their relationship; the tense conflict between the official FBI and Agent Mulder; and some initial conflict between Mulder and Scully. They would later come to trust each other in the implicit way of two people who are absolute soul-mates, but there is still constant tension between her skepticism and his willingness to take wild leaps in logic in order to press his case. (Oh, and in the first scene in the FBI Headquarters, there's an ominous looking fellow lurking in the background who is always fingering a lit cigarette.)

This first case of theirs also sets up so many of the tropes that would dominate the show for the entirety of its run. Alien abduction. Lost time. Mystery elements that are never able to be conclusively explained because the evidence is somehow destroyed or compromised. Implants of unknown origin. Secret government storehouses where old evidence is squirreled away, never to be seriously investigated again. Autopsies of mysteriously deceased persons, and autopsies of mysteriously deceased things that may or may not be persons. Locals who are unwilling to talk to the two FBI agents, and the one local who is. The fact that Agent Mulder is haunted by the disappearance/abduction of his sister. And the solving of the mystery in an unfulfilling way that leaves Scully nothing to report on.

I also noticed that the show's look that would dominate the first five seasons – dark, cloudy, foreboding, often raining – is in full effect here, as is the moody synth-driven music by Mark Snow (minus the famous main theme, which wouldn't arrive until the second episode). I was surprised, watching the Pilot episode again, to see just how much of the show's eventual theme and feel was present right there from the beginning. Everything except The Truth being Out There. But don't worry – it is. Oh yes.

(Oh, and I promise not to make this series into one long love-letter to Gillian Anderson. But I had no recollection of the pilot featuring a scene with her in her underwear...her skin lit only by the light of a single burning candle....)

Monday, November 08, 2010

"These deadly rays will be YOUR death!"



A while back I posted about an old SF B-movie I saw when I was a kid, Battle Beyond the Stars. I saw Battle in this old, somewhat beat-up theater in Hillsboro, OR that often showed double features – which I remember my parents sending me off to with their blessing, only now realizing that it was probably a great way to get an annoying kid out of the house for a few hours. Battle was the main feature that day; the lead-in was another SF flick called Starcrash. Yup, I saw Starcrash in its theatrical run.

If you're a fan of SF movies, you've probably heard of Starcrash -- and not in a particularly good way, either. It's one of the legendarily bad movies of SF history, made on a shoestring budget to capitalize on the SF craze initiated by Star Wars in 1977. I remember kind of digging the movie, when I was 8 years old, but I never saw it again...until a month or so ago. I tracked the film down, wondering just how bad it really was. Is it really one of the worst movies in SF history? Or is it a bit better than I remember?

Well, it's bad. Really bad. Its badness exists on some kind of epic level. Starcrash is almost a primal force of nature in its badness. Seriously, this is a bad bad BAD movie. But it does have that nice virtue of being bad on a level that's entertaining in a "watch it just to laugh at it" kind of way.

The main characters is a female star pilot and criminal named Stella Star, who is gamely played by Caroline Munro, a buxom, gorgeous woman whose best-known role was a femme fatale who tries to kill James Bond in The Spy Who Loved Me, but upon whom Bond turns the tables and kills instead. (Interesting Bond trivia: Munro's Spy Who Loved Me character, Naomi, is the first woman directly killed by James Bond in the movie series. Sure, he's responsible for a lot of women dying, but she's the first we ever see expire by his hand.) Stella is flying around with a curly-headed guy named Akton, when they incur the wrath of a couple of space cops, one of whom is a robot named Elle. They are basically blackmailed into searching for a lost ship that carried on it the son of the Emperor of space, or something like that. This is important because there are bad guys about, led by an evil Count, planning the conquering of the Empire. Or something like that.

Starcrash is one of those movies where when you try to summarize it, you find yourself saying vague things and using the phrase "or something like that" a lot.

Much of the middle section of the film settles into routine: Stella and friends go to a planet, find the Prince isn't there, evade some dangers, and go to the next planet. Eventually there is betrayal, a bunch of mystical stuff involving Akton that makes no sense at all, the Prince turns up (played by David Hasselhoff!), we meet the Emperor (played with benevolent and soporific droning by Christopher Plummer), and we finally find out what the title "Starcrash" means. It involves crashing. Among the stars.

Below the fold are some screencaps of the glory that is Starcrash.

Let there be dancing in the streets!!!

My book came!

It came! It came! It came!!!

And a beautiful book it is, too. I can't wait to read it!

Sentential Links #227

Lnikage. Likange. And linkage!

:: Of course, it's worth appreciating the fact that we know the Bush/Cheney tax policy Republicans are desperate to continue didn't produce the intended results. Indeed, it was abject failure -- it didn't create jobs, it didn't generate tremendous growth, and it didn't keep a balanced budget.

In other words, the one economic policy Republicans will fight for, no matter what, is the one economic policy we know didn't work.


:: It’s almost as if the tea party isn’t really a libertarian minded grass roots uprising calling for more personal freedom, fiscal conservatism, and limited government, but actually might just be a slick re-branding of the lunatic wing of the GOP by wealthy billionaire businessmen to be used to propel the GOP back into power.

:: Thing is that most of these people had a certainty that God supports their particular take on the word because they believe – at least the non-slaves – in the notion that the United States is uniquely blessed by God. Interesting, one person in this period was less certain about God’s will, and that was President Abraham Lincoln, a man with a good Old Testament name.

:: I deserve some kind of compensation though so I have decided to make this a Mozart day. I’m listening to nothing but Mozart for the rest of the afternoon - light, fluffy early Mozart, nothing later than K200 or so. (Awww, that seems a bit limiting! I can think of few pieces of music more sunny in nature, more optimistically life-affirming, than the ever-wonderful K364.)

:: What happens when the language you use is not comprehensible to all readers? Do you adjust? But if you adjust your language to make it easier for those who don’t understand, then are you not cutting yourself off from your own history? This has giant implications.

:: I understand why people don't participate in the process, I really do. When it feels like your vote and your voice don't matter, that things are going to go a certain way regardless of what you think or feel or do, and moreover they're always going to go that way, well, what's the point?

:: But there's a dark side as well. We know about the real world of the era steampunk is riffing off. And the picture is not good. If the past is another country, you really wouldn't want to emigrate there. Life was mostly unpleasant, brutish, and short; the legal status of women in the UK or US was lower than it is in Iran today: politics was by any modern standard horribly corrupt and dominated by authoritarian psychopaths and inbred hereditary aristocrats: it was a priest-ridden era that had barely climbed out of the age of witch-burning, and bigotry and discrimination were ever popular sports: for most of the population starvation was an ever-present threat. I could continue at length. It's the world that bequeathed us the adjective "Dickensian", that gave us a fully worked example of the evils of a libertarian minarchist state, and that provoked Marx to write his great consolatory fantasy epic, The Communist Manifesto. It's the world that gave birth to the horrors of the Modern, and to the mass movements that built pyramids of skulls to mark the triumph of the will. It was a vile, oppressive, poverty-stricken and debased world and we should shed no tears for its passing (or the passing of that which came next). (Sorry for linking an entire paragraph like that, but I couldn't figure out how to distill it down without destroying it. So there it is.)

:: “You can’t do that!” Wesley says, “Lando doesn’t know how to fly spaceships!” (Interesting post about the current generation of Star Wars fans...albeit with some of the usual "George Lucas sucks!" stuff in the comments, as per usual.)

:: Tomorrow I will bury the bunny in my backyard and say a little blessing for it. And if after that I feel up for another bike ride I will, regardless of the wind, most definitely go the other direction. (I'm so glad I found this blog.)

More next week!!!

Sunday, November 07, 2010

Bears 22, Bills...less than 22.

This was a fun game to watch. The Bears ran it well, but the Bills stayed right there, even taking a 19-14 lead in the 2nd half. But as the fourth quarter ran on, you just felt it coming. You knew it was there, waiting....

Coconut Cream Pies!


And sure enough, with the Bills trying to set up a tying field goal to send the game to overtime (after a freakishly good bounce on a Chicago punt to leave the Bills at the 1-yard line), QB Ryan Fitzpatrick rallied the troops...and then promptly unrallied them by throwing an interception, allowing the Bears to run out the clock.

Splat.

What it feels like to be a Bills fan these days


BTW, I know it's hard to judge sitting at home watching on the teevee, but it sure sounded like the crowd at this Bills "home" game -- played in Toronto -- consisted of mostly Chicago fans. Yuck!

Back to the kitchen with you

I was looking around some blogs this afternoon, and in the comments on one blog that I keep coming back to for some reason (even though I can't stand the blogger, her viewpoint, or her writing) offered this in reference to last week's elections:

It was nice to see Nancy Pelosi put in her place!


Wow. "Put in her place". I'd take the charitable view here and assume that this writer meant, as a conservative, that it was nice to see the top Democrat in the House relegated to probable Minority Leader status. But I'm not going to take this view, as this person's writings over the years have made clear that she deeply fetishizes a time when a woman's place was a lot more clearly defined than it is now. I'm always surprised to see such rhetoric employed out there.

Nancy Pelosi has achieved the highest elected position ever ascended by an American woman...but now, she's been put in her place. One wonders if the blogger in question hopes John Boehner gives Nancy Pelosi a fifty and tells her to "go buy herself somethin' pretty".

Tinkering under the hood....

In general I've liked the changes I made to this blog's appearance a while back, but there were two things that bugged me: my ragged right-margins, and the fact that text offset using the blockquote tag didn't stand out as much as a block-quote as it did in my previous template. I have now fixed both problems.

See? Here's my new style of blockquote! Huzzah!!!


OK, back to my normal blathering. Carry on!

Sunday Stealing

I haven't done a Sunday Stealing quiz in a while, so here's this week's edition.

1. What do you consider your hometown to be?

If I'm talking to people around here, I'll say Orchard Park. In a more general sense, I just say "Buffalo", because I consider the whole region to be the "Buffalo" region. I'm a big fan of regionalism, actually; I think a lot of Buffalo's problems could be helped along, if not solved, by allowing the city to annex suburbs. Unfortunately, that apparently can't happen in New York the way the laws are right now.

If by "hometown" we mean the place I was born, then it's Pittsburgh, PA. But we moved from there when I was only two or three, and while I have always had strong emotional ties and a deep love for that city, it's not my home anymore.

2. What’s the hardest part of your average day?

Mid-afternoon, usually. That's when my attention and motivation levels sag a bit as I start to make the mental transition to evening.

3. The easiest? Why?

Morning and evening. Those are when I'm the most fired up.

4. What beverage do you reach for to quench your thirst?

If I'm thirsty, then it's water. I've cut quite a bit down on drinking pop and alcohol over the last few years, and I indulge in those when I'm specifically in the mood for one of those, not for when I generically need to wet the proverbial whistle.

5. What is one not-so-secret goal you have for your life? I’ll let you keep your secret ones to yourself.

To write something that makes someone else say, "Hey, I'll pay you a nice sum of money to let me publish that." (I'm somewhat flexible on what qualifies as a 'nice' sum of money.)

6. What physical pain do you fear most? For example, I’m trying to decide how bad my jaw pain needs to get before I risk a potential needle from my dentist. So, for me, throbbing is preferable to jabbing.

Probably sharp chest pains, I suppose. Never had any, but I'm not wild about the notion.

7. Where do you find solace?

Home. That's what home is for.

8. What makes you the saddest when you read/see the news?

Children dying. Of anything.

9. What do you eat for a favorite snack?

Heavens, I like to snack. I need to cut it down, really -- but there are tons of things I like to snack upon. Cheese and crackers. Apples and peanut butter. Apples and cheddar cheese. And, of course, too many kinds of crunchy-and-salty things that come in bags at the store.

10. What movie could you/would you watch more than two or three times and still enjoy just as much as the first time?

Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Casablanca, My Fair Lady...pretty much any movie on my Top 100 list.

11. What boy/girl first made you cry?

Not really sure. It was probably this girl I had a wicked bad crush on when I was a sophomore in high school. Her name was Deanna. She was nice and friendly to me, and then...she wasn't. Ouch! I wonder what ever happened to her....

12. What brand of coffee/tea do you drink most often?

8 O'Clock coffee, mostly, although I also buy some nice flavors in The Store's brand. For tea, I'm all over the place. I love Rishi Tea's Green Mint -- absolutely adore the stuff. It's wonderful.

13. Dig in the dirt with or without garden gloves?

Depends. If I'm just repotting a single plant or two, then no gloves. If I'm doing quite a bit of work in the dirt, then I put gloves on. Since we live in an apartment, this isn't much of an issue -- more often I have to do this kind of thing at work.

14. James Taylor or Carly Simon?

What an odd dichotomy! I think I like more Carly Simon songs than I do James Taylor songs, so I give the nod to her. I guess. Hmmmmm. (Plus I just like the name "Carly".)

Sunday Burst of Weird and AWESOME!

Oddities and Awesome abound!

Only one item this week. No, I do not want to eat this sandwich. But you'd better believe I want a bite!



More next week!

Saturday, November 06, 2010

Bite me, Millard Fillmore!

I love Sporcle, and I'm always drawn like a moth to flame to the quizzes about the US Presidents. Even though my brain is apparently wired in such a way as to be utterly unable to retain the piece of information that we had a President named Millard Fillmore, who is somehow always an answer on these quizzes, and who is always one of the couple of Presidential names I'm desperately trying to coax from my gray matter as the quiz expires. Case in point. Stupid Millard Fillmore!

Friday, November 05, 2010

A moment of arse-kicking awesomeness

Sorry for the blog silence the last couple of days, folks. For those still out there, here's Mr. Russell to brighten your day.

Wednesday, November 03, 2010

Meh....

Yeah, last night's election results are disastrous and idiotic, but I'm not dwelling on it. Political power comes and goes. It'll come again...and it'll go again. Like the tides.

I will say this, though (which I said on Twitter and Facebook last night, but not here): Watching these Tea Partiers trying to govern is going to be like watching Edward Scissorhands eat with chopsticks.

For want of an idea to post....

Here's something I stole from Cal:

100 Tweets about overalls

OK, I recently got a search engine hit for "100 Reasons Why Overalls Are Awesome". Well, I suppose I could come up with such a list, but...well, I don't feel like doing that much work, even though I've certainly done my own yeoman duty on singing the praises of bib overalls throughout the years! So I'll just do something lazy, and do a search on Twitter for "overalls", and post the tweets the amuse me the most. Here we go!

(Oh, I'm not actually grabbing a hundred of these. I haven't got that kind of time.)

NEW RULE: Overalls are not conducive to dancing to (80’s) Music. It makes the nipples raw. That is all. (Here's why shirts are handy.)

Case in point: this guy asked me out the day I wore a skirt. The next day, I wore overalls, and he broke up with me. *sigh* (Some guys are idiots. What can I say?)

So in my college years guys always thought it was hot when girls wore overalls but I just found out why they really wore them...yuck. (No idea.)

If I do not maintain my appearance with clippers, it looks like I'm wearing fuzzy overalls (I'm trying not to picture this.)

"Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work." ~Thomas Edison (Judging by how often this shows up in the search results, this must be the most popular quote about overalls in history.)

Wearing only overalls in public should never replace pants and a shirt. Put on a shirt, old man. (For God's sake, yes. They don't cover everything, guys.)

Some redneck in overalls just picked his kid up at the bus stop while holding his hunting rifle! WTF?!

I miss wearing overalls. (So wear them! Do you need a permission slip from The Queen of Fashion or something?)

Only babies and toddlers should wear bib overalls. (Duly noted. Next.)

Th-this guy just walked in wearing overalls. I don't know how to feel. (Such angst over some stranger's clothes! How will we go on! Style points for stammering on Twitter, though.)

I wish overalls were instyle. I would wear 'em all the time. (Again with the notion that the arbitrary decisions of other people should determine what we do. Weird.)

I haven't researched outside of this rural Georgia McDonald's yet, but so far my study shows that 87% of Americans wear overalls. (This cracked me up. For the win!)

Didn't wash my painting trousers till yesterday afternoon and they are still damp. Wearing damp overalls is not the best start to a Monday.

It was not a good idea for my roommate to wear overalls while I'm high. (I don't wanna know.)

I'M NEVER TAKING THESE OVERALLS OFF. Soo comfy! :) (Now there's the spirit!)

OK, I'm done now. Sifting through a bunch of tweets can be a horrible, horrible experience. If tweets are representative of how some people actually talk, civilization is doomed. But overalls are awesome!

A Random Wednesday Conversation Starter

How weird is this Star Trek moment, anyway?

Tuesday, November 02, 2010

Holy SHIT.

Sorry I couldn't come up with a more eloquent title for this post, but...well, sometimes you gotta go with the words that hit you. Therefore: Let there be dancing in the streets!

Yup, I won a copy of Doug Adams's The Music of The Lord of the Rings, which makes me so utterly happy that...well, later there may be opening of beer and dancing once I am alone and no one can see.

The entry rules were simple: in addition to providing contact info, entrants had to identify their favorite bit of music from the films and describe why. Here's what I wrote:

My favorite bit of music from the LOTR scores? That's a nearly impossible requirement for me to fill, as I adore just about every single note in the trilogy, from start to end. But for the purposes of this contest, I'll name the music that plays as Gandalf leads the Fellowship into the ruin of the subterranean Dwarvish city of Dwarrowdelf, in Moria. There's just something so majestic and regal about the music in this scene: most of the Moria music is dark and forbidding, but in this one passage, Howard Shore conveys some of the optimism that the Dwarves must have felt as they started digging into Moria. The music builds and builds, and it feels like it's about to open up into a huge melody -- but that melody never comes, which is fitting since Moria never reached the heights that the Dwarves had hoped. Instead, the music turns dark again as Gimli finds Balin's tomb. This moment in the score always makes
my spine chill a bit. (The film actually blunts the impact a bit by having Sam say "Now that's an eye-opener and no mistake". It's a scene that needed no dialogue.)


Here's the music I'm referring to. It's the first 1:15 of this clip, and I shiver in awe every time I hear this passage. It's so regal and sad and evocative of Tolkien's world that is full to overflow with old things that are lost and nearly forgotten:



That music is Middle Earth.

Yes, I did.

I got home from voting a short while ago. My polling place changed this year, from the community room in the main building of our own apartment complex to the gymnasium of the Catholic school down the street. I suppose this is because they needed more room to put tables, since we're now no longer using the "flip the lever" gizmo and are instead filling in the ovals on paper ballots that we then stick into the scanner ourselves. I always enjoy voting as an exercise, even if they seemed a bit disorganized today -- the only signage directing people where to go assumed you knew what Assembly district you live in, and to be honest, I have no idea. So I had to ask if I was in the right line. (I was.)

And since the polling place workers are all elderly volunteers, everybody had to shout their names to be heard. But still, it took me all of ten minutes to vote, and nine of that was standing in line. That's the nice thing about being unwilling to vote Republican unless the Democrat is literally an axe murderer; takes a lot less time to just go across the top and fill in the circle next to every Democrat on the ballot.

Anyway, now to see what happens.

Monday, November 01, 2010

Bring on the Bucs!!!

Yeah, right...but as I write this, it's about ten minutes since the San Francisco Giants won the World Series. I didn't pay a great deal of attention, but I always try to be watching when the final out of a World Series takes place, and tonight was no exception. A few thoughts:

:: The game ended around 10:35 pm, Eastern Time. Wow. For baseball, that's ridiculously early, innit? I've seen World Series games decided after midnight in recent years.

:: And since it ended early, Giants pitcher Tim Lincecum won't be out quite as late on a school night! (Seriously, the guy looks like he's 14.)

:: FOX Sports does a great job with its World Series and baseball coverage. They really do. One thing I always love about them is the way they have a camera on just about everybody on the team that's going for the win in the 9th, so when the final out happens, they've got footage of every single player's reaction as they see the last out and start jumping for joy, screaming, and charging for the pile-up on the pitcher's mound. That's always very cool.

:: They also had the obligatory footage of a crowd's reaction in San Francisco as the final out happened. It was the usual stuff -- a crowd of mostly young-ish people suddenly jumping up and down and screaming and hugging as their hometown boys won the title. The camera then panned across the crowd, and suddenly there's a little old lady, maybe all of five feet tall and around 80 years old, jumping and screaming and looking for someone to High-Five with the best of 'em. What a great moment!

Congrats to the Giants!

Carusology

This is one of the best David Caruso moments ever.



No reason, I just love this moment.

Sentential Links #226

Linkage....

:: So consider this my notice to all of you out there: if you need someone to Jump for Jupiter, either with you or for you, I’m your girl.

:: This is a sheep farm. I know that now.

:: I love to eat while I read or read while I eat, which may result in unfortunate accidents.

:: I have a tendency to read a lot more into fall (rebirth! potential!) than most, having never outgrown that whole back-to-school excitement (a feeling, I suppose, not shared by all, but I always loved school, and summer just gets to be too much after a while, doesn’t it?).

:: I must now come before you the Toolmonger readers and prepare that great meal of bitter sorrow — the crow. Then consume it. After years of doing this you’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now, but alas I exhibit characteristics of density that would boggle most geologists.

:: File that sucker in the drawer marked "Way to give away the end of the story on the cover, guys. Geez."

:: As of yesterday, Ian officially belongs to us, and not to the hospital or the ambulance company. As far as I can tell, there are no outstanding bills. We get to keep him.

:: All the financial planning advice I’ve ever seen seems to be intended for the wealthy and near wealthy and I always think, “Hey, what about us ordinary people? What are we supposed to do?”

More next week....