New from the Improv Everywhere crew: three agents took desktop computers and massive CRT tube monitors into Starbucks, then pretended to work on them just as you would with a laptop. I like the lady who “took the joke a step further” by putting the monitor and keyboard in her lap.
I want summer so badly I can barely contain myself. I mean, I can’t remember ever having pre-spring fever with this intensity. I day-dream about going outside without a protective covering of down, wool, and leather. Dimly, I remember a time when it was still light at 9pm and the warmth of the day lingered through leisurely dinners on patios. Tennis, running, basketball. Swimming holes, lawn sprinklers, sunburns.
Winter is great, but there’s just so much of it; this February/March time is just a brutal wait for warmth. So, (with apologies to and inspiration from the poetry of Mykala)… to pass the time, some language evocative of the coming summer:
Didactic Gaea
It’s not the sunlight, scattered across the surface of the lake
Nor is it the birdsong of clipped harmonies
Or the paddle, dipped into the satiny water
Left
Right
Left
Right
It is none of these things
It is the instrument we become
Resonating with our surroundings
Suspended by water
Struck by light
Caressed by twilight
… … …
Hopefully that won’t classify as “bad poetry, oh noetry,” but you never can be too sure.
The Esquire magazine logotype, by Jim Parkinson Type Design with Roger Black and Ann Pomeroy, is without a doubt the best magazine logotype I can think of right now. So. Great.
I’ve always approached blogging from a rather pragmatic stance, complete with low expectations, no thoughts of a cult-like following, and no deluded visions of grandeur. For these reasons, I don’t usually link my blog, I’ve pulled it out of as many search engines as possible, it’s not listed on my Facebook profile, and I seldom bring it up in conversation. The whole idea is one of website as a hidden gem. I’d like the people who visit to only do so because (however limited in scope), they find a small nugget of value in reading my rantings/ravings. The reality is harsh, but generally goes thus: nobody cares what I had for lunch, they probably don’t think I’m funny, they aren’t interested in the things I link, and my photographs don’t speak to them. On the contrary, those who have a modicum of interest in what I’m doing here, I welcome you with open arms and an appreciation for every speck of feedback and comments you offer.
At this point, with so pessimistic an introduction, we must ask: why blog? Your answers are different than mine; my reasons are two-fold. First, I blog to remember. From an early age, I’ve been keenly aware of the brief time we have on earth, and I want to leave a tiny tangible print as evidence of my time here. I’d like something left behind to attempt to answer the question of “what was he like?” or “what did he do?” I can only dream that my writing will be of sufficient quality to answer the question “who was he?” It’s like this quote from “Death and Underachievement: A Guide to Happiness in Work:
My lifelong preoccupation with accomplishment has always been not so much motivated by a desire for praise or reward as an anxiety about having some concrete achievements to which I can point and say, “look there, you cold and unfeeling universe: something I’ve done, something I’ve made, something I shall leave behind.”
The second reason I blog is for self-understanding; it would seem I’m a bit preoccupied with trying to figure out who I am. This is a tendency I (ironically) don’t quite understand… after all, many people take their opinions, quirks, traits, and beliefs at face-value. I seem to have developed an inability to accept pieces of who I am without first turning them over and examining them, along with the threads that connect them to other people and past events. For me, then, blogging is an attempt to put together both (1) a crude portrait of a life in progress and (2) a journey of self discovery. Which brings me to today’s topic: disillusionment. Join me, won’t you?
I remember the day I first became disillusioned with folding myself into society’s mold. I can’t tell you if it was a Tuesday or a Wednesday, but I can tell you it was the day I received the news about a scholarship I applied for at St. Thomas. The year was 2003, the season was summer, and the scholarship was the Science, Mathematics, and Engineering Scholarship. The terms: 2 winners received complete tuition for four years of college! All through my high school years my parents said, “We don’t expect you to get a job; high school is your job, so do your best at that.” And I did do my best. I hit the books hard in every class, participated in the ‘scholarly’ extra curricular racket, and augmented my academics with fine arts and athletics. At the time of application for the scholarship I thought, “there is literally nothing else I could do to make me more competitive.” With this naïve belief in the existence of societal meritocracy working on my behalf, I was doomed to be disappointed.
And disappointed I was: I didn’t get the scholarship. I didn’t even get a runner-up scholarship of partial tuition. I had spent three solid years doing literally everything I could have done to reach this goal, and factors beyond my control took the opportunity away. It’s hard to describe what a shattering blow to my basic understanding of the world this was, and I didn’t realize it myself until quite recently. So, come freshman year of college, my brain and body were still going through the motions of hard work, but my spirit was flagging. The singularity of my high school vision of achievement had me thinking of hard work and success as following one another like night and day. I got disillusioned. For a while, I got downright bitter.
Don’t get me wrong: I really enjoyed my biochemistry course materials and genuinely liked the lectures, but I over-corrected in the opposite direction: trying to convince myself that I was being too preoccupied with perfection, then scrambling when I felt I didn’t know course material well enough, and cycling on and on in an endless loop of stress. Normally, a person in my position would have loosened up the reins a bit, tried new things in college, and matured along way. However, for four years, I tried to loosen up, found the reins clenched in my hands, and instead of enjoying my time at college spent my free moments looking wildly around, trying to slow down the chariot race. And for the whole time, I wanted to talk to my parents about it, but I was convinced they wouldn’t understand and just list ways for me to organize my life to find more time for homework. It hurts to look back on it, and I’m more than a bit ashamed to talk about it. Frankly, that’s why I’ve buried the story under such a large introduction… only those who are really curious will make it this far.
Along this college journey, subconsciously, something clicked (again, an event I wasn’t even aware of until recently). I became a bit concerned with “return on investment.” I wanted the effort I put in and the time I spent to count for something. This is not a terrible view to hold, but I do think it needs to be countered with a resignation that some things simply must be done. For example, at work I have to keep track of my hours on (literally… seriously, literally) four different systems. This aggravates me to no end and I realize there will be, can be, no return on investment here. There’s no “satisfaction in a job well done” for accurately completing 4 different time sheets. It’s just something that, if I want to keep working here, I need to do. And accepting that is a good thing.
The resolution of my disillusionment continues, but realizing what happened up in my head is a major step. On top of this, the forthcoming work in dental school will not be put forth blindly into the aether the way high school work was. A D.D.S. has a very concrete educational path with a predictable job outlook, which is a framework I need to feel that all is not for naught. Your mileage may vary, but that’s just the way I am wired. And so, finally, it feels like my compass is pointing in the correct direction.
The Greeks said “everything in moderation.” NOFX said “everything in moderation, especially moderation.” I say “know thyself,” as in Hamlet (Act 1, Scene 3):
This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!
I’m working on it… I’m working on it.
NPR is great because it has interviews where the interviewers actually research their guests and ask them good questions. So, it’s interesting to hear this: NPR Music: KT Tunstall: Greater Than the Sum of Her Sounds. Sure, we hear some great studio recordings of Tunstall songs, but you actually learn something interesting and useful things about the artist. I’ve had this up in my browser for over a month, so I’m glad to have finally gotten the chance to listen. That said, the NPR music site is a really high quality integration of articles, samples, and full interviews. Color me impressed.
Continuing the theme of baby animals this week, we have a baby bunny. As Weebl and Bob might say, sooo cute!
The “Help ‘em Wash specialized shower curtain is one of those things that sounds like a good idea, but really is not a good idea.
The Pet Shower Curtain has shoulder length gloves that allow you easy access to bathe your pet. The gloves are completely intergrated and waterproof. The curtain is clear to help you watch your pet closely while bathing them. You will stay dry even when your pet shakes the excess water off.
First off, the copy on the website does actually say “intergrated.” In case you were wondering. Secondly, it’s like, the more you describe this thing in detail, the more you think things like, do you have to take this curtain off each time you shower… because otherwise there’d be a giant pair of gloves (attached to your shower curtain) interfering with your shower. It’s just all very odd. (Hat tip to Mykala for the great link).
Computer programming teaches you to think logically, optimize for speed, relevancy, etc., and structure your thinking within a world where there are set rules. (Incidentally, that previous link points to one of the most insightful articles I have ever read — it’s about who nerds are, and proper care/feeding of nerds. If you haven’t read it… seriously, man, read it. And technically, I should say “seriously, lady” because the article is most useful to a woman looking at a nerd or nerd-like significant other. Anyhow, let’s break out of this parenthetical statement. BUT, before we do, note to self: install footnotes on the next revision of the tumbledry formatting system. That way, diversions such as this will end up at the bottom of the article in… a footnote.) So, this endless logic game within a world where the entire system is known is an excellent exercise for the mind. Indeed, I enjoy the exercise. However, I’ve never quite been able to articulate why a profession (above and beyond a hobby) in the programming arena does not appeal to me. Thankfully, somebody spoke my mind on the issue in a comment attached to a recent Slashdot article entitled “Obsolete Technical Skills”:
I’ve been thinking about retiring - I’m 34 years old. I think I’d be happier if I’d jump off the bandwagon and started doing something totally different. Something that would not require me to study all the time and be stressed all the time.
I grew up with home computers. I learned BASIC when I was 11. That is obsolete skill now. Then I got my first PC in 1988 and learned DOS. That’s obsolete. Then I learned Borland’s Turbo Pascal. That’s obsolete. Then I learned Microsoft C programming and started programming Windows 3.1 applications that used Windows menus etc. That’s obsolete. I learned Gopher and Telnet in the 80s. That’s obsolete. I learned Pine. That’s obsolete. I learned to tweak Windows 95 registry. That’s obsolete. I learned BEA Tuxedo at work. That’s obsolete. Looking at it now - I’ve wasted countless of hours to something that is totally obsolete now! Had I invested that time into improving myself - learning who I am, how I behave, how to enjoy this life - I would be much happier now I guess.
Certainly, all of us learn skills that become obsolete and there is value in comparing evolving programming solutions, BUT I think this commenter is saying that there can be great satisfaction in investing time and energy in things which will return emotional, artistic, or intellectual dividends for many years to come.
Knut the polar bear is very very cute. Born in captivity late in 2006, he was abandoned by his mother and raised by zoo keeper Thomas Dörflein:
Knut’s need for around-the-clock care required that Dörflein not only sleep on a mattress next to Knut’s sleeping crate at night, but also play with, bathe, and feed the cub daily. Knut’s diet began with a bottle of milk every two hours before graduating at the age of four months to a milk porridge mixed with cat food, vitamins, and cod liver.
Knut’s adorable mug and captivating story brought throngs of curious visitors to the Berlin Zoo in 2007, and resulted in the bear’s elevation to mascot status:
Dr. Gerald Uhlich, of the Berlin zoo’s board of trustees, stated that because of his vast popularity, Knut has become a means of communication and that he has the ability to “draw attention to the environment in a nice way. Not in a threatening, scolding way.” As a result, the German Environment Minister Sigmar Gabriel officially adopted Knut as the mascot for a conference on endangered species to be held in Bonn in 2008.
Also, this has to be the first time a polar bear has made the cover of Vanity Fair.
Well, I guess the annual flash mob Valentine’s Day San Francisco pillow fight went well yesterday. I especially like this picture. Fun stuff. Reading about this is starting to restore my faith in humanity. Maybe we will be alright.
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