I've moved this blog to a new location, as Word Press has more features and control options than blogger does. You can find a blog about common things at http://blogaboutcommonthings.wordpress.com/. My schedule is still Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday, with today's blog in the works. I hope you enjoy the new location and layout, bigger and better things are in store.
Thanks for your continued readership and/or bookmarking, it means quite a bit to know that others enjoy my hobby as much as I do.
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
"Unplugging": Transitioning from Electric to Acoustic as a band.
I’ve long hated electric musicians, mostly because it’s easy to sound alright without having any real ability. Entire genres are built on this, letting people that have little talent get rich because of their distortion pedals. It’s a cheap trick that anyone can do if they know how to form a power chord (fifth). I don’t say this for jealousy, or as a groundbreaking rally for change. I was taught how to play guitar classically in high school, and now can play nearly any style I really want with the exceptions of Country and Jazz. For me, the way to measure a musician or a whole band is to see how they transition between electric and acoustic.
This is not true for all musicians – some can do things with electric instruments that simply cannot be done with acoustic. I’d name a few, but they don’t really matter all that much for this argument. What matters are the artists that can handle their instruments and songs well… plugged and otherwise. I’ve excluded certain acts from this list because they’re no-brainers (Goo Goo Dolls are a perfect example, since they’re mostly acoustic anyway).
That’s a lot of intro. Enjoy it.
A Perfect Circle
A Perfect Circle was one of my favorite bands as a teenager, and they’ve stuck with me as I grew older. On the albums they have a few acoustic driven songs, but very few that really grab the listener are unplugged. Instead, they’ve got a very good acoustic set of songs that can be easily found online, all of which are mature and breathtaking.
They matter on this list because they’ve done more than just take the same songs and swap instruments. “The Hollow” was completely rewritten and arranged for the new instrumentation, including less conventional drums and piano along with acoustic guitar and bass. This arrangement stays current through most of the acoustic versions available, including “Weak and Powerless,” “Sleeping Beauty,” and “3 Libras.” They all take on a nearly mystic feeling. They are all distinct from and as powerful (if not more so) than the original album recordings.
Coheed and Cambria
It’s no secret that I’m a fan boy for Coheed, but I think this isn’t without reason. I’ve mentioned some of their acoustic work in previous posts. It’s important enough for this to be redundant.
Like A Perfect Circle, they’ve completely re-arranged various songs to transition better into the world of the unplugged. “A Favor House Atlantic” and “Here We Are Juggernaut” are fantastic examples of songs that are far more powerful on steel strings than they could be on nickel. Coheed and Cambria have a much more expansive body of acoustic songs than most other bands on this list. Most aren’t all that special unplugged, but the ones that are particularly grab the listener in a chokehold without letting them up to breathe until the song’s finished. “Favor House” was streamlined to reduce the monotonous crunch of the palm muted power chord chug and boil it down to a raked open progression with feeling. “Juggernaut” most notably now has an airy guitar line… written in a major key, rather than a minor key. It’s slower, and less driving. The track is much more relaxing for it.
Many songs need little work to sound acceptable acoustic, “Welcome Home” is already very well structured for unplugging outside of some effects in the solos. The listener hardly notices they’re even missing. “From Fear Through The Eyes of Madness” sounds just as happy and uplifting acoustic as it does in the album’s recording, with the only needless addition being an octaver on the vocals. This withstanding, the whole piece is lovely. “Blood Red Summer” and “The Running Free” have little changed about them, yet both are somehow better acoustic than they were originally. Maybe this is why I’m such an avid fan.
Godsmack
Godsmack’s first album is one of my favorite hard rock albums of all time. Then they released the second album, and things fell apart for my opinion of them. After another bad album, they decided to release an acoustic album and saved themselves.
Like all other bands on this list, they arrange songs that were previously electric for a new life, and like all other bands on this list, the new versions are usually better than the originals. A notable difference is that two new songs were written solely for acoustic instrumentation, “Touché” and “Voices,” if memory serves. Both are worth the album purchase.
Not everything is so fantastic unplugged, “Keep Away” feels like it was only included because of it’s popularity as the original single. The new arrangement of “Awake” (now entitled “Asleep”) is soulless and monotonous. It’s an inspired attempt, and on principle it’s a nice twist to leave only the bones of the song that convinced so many hundreds of thousands of people to buy the second album. It just doesn’t work very well. Despite all this, they’re still talented enough to stand on this list alongside the other juggernauts.
Rise Against
A neo-punk band can rock out with nylon and steel strings? For serious?
Yes.
They don’t have all that many songs acoustic, but there are enough to make them noteworthy. Besides already acoustic songs (“Swing Life Away” and “Hero of War”) they’ve done “Prayer of the Refugee,” “Ready to Fall,” “Re-Education Through Labor” and many others acoustic. Stripping down the screaming and strummy chord progressions shows well written, hooky, powerful songs that have pop sensibilities without sacrificing meaningful significance. They aren’t generally all that different from the originals besides the change in vocal tone and naked strings, but that’s enough to make it notable.
Stone Temple Pilots
There are a lot of things that contribute to STP’s placement on this list. Most notably is Scott Weiland in his prime, when he could still control his voice and do nearly anything he really wanted. Didn’t matter that he was a fledgling drug addict, all that mattered was his considerable vocal ability. Everything else for the acoustic recordings was perfect as well: Simple percussion, straight-forward guitar, and nearly unchanged bass. That’s all it really took to make some of the best songs in the grunge era even better.
Most notable are “Big Empty,” “Plush,” and “Sourgirl.” With the exception of “Sourgirl,” nearly every song available unplugged were from the earlier career, with the later being the last real single before the band fell apart (and from what I understand, recently reunited or some silly nonsense). I wish they’d kept up with the acoustic material, they could’ve done so much more.
Honorable Mentions
Pearl Jam – They have some fantastic songs acoustic, but none really surpass the originals in terms of improvements or arrangements. “Black” is the only one that really stands out.
Lacuna Coil – Lacuna Coil probably should’ve been included above just for Christina Scabia’s ability alone, and how nice her voice sounds with acoustic guitars. The problems come from the other singer, who really sounds quite terrible. While the guitarists aren’t bad unplugged, they and Christina alone cannot make the songs sound as good as they do when distortion covers the other guy’s voice. However, “Heaven’s a Lie” is quite awesome unplugged.
Staind – They don’t do anything all that special with their music acoustic, and honestly get kind of boring as they go. The one important note is that they cover songs quite well. “Nothing Else Matters” and “Black” are both lovely. Also, “Epiphany” was already acoustic, but it sounds so nice unplugged. This is probably just Aaron Lewis’ voice being so lovely.
Ill Niño – I really wanted to put this band on the list, but they’ve got a few problems. They’ve only got two unplugged songs (and “How Can I Live?” is fantastic acoustic). The singer also can’t seem to control his voice, which is a huge problem. If he had vocal lessons and they wrote more acoustic, then I’m sure I’d love them more.
No Doubt – Not gonna lie, I was never much a fan of No Doubt. I knew a few songs from them, but nothing ever really grabbed me. Unplugged, they’re a cubic shit-ton more interesting, but they don’t really feel like they’re doing all that much to the music. I enjoy them more this way, but they don’t quite rub musically as a band should when they transition between an amp and a sound hole. I think I do enjoy them more now though, for what it’s worth.
Disagree?
This is just how it works in my taste, you don’t have to agree. Maybe you want to count an act like Pink Floyd, who mostly wrote in acoustic. I love them too, but there’s no transition to really look at. Maybe you want to look at the Paige and Plant acoustic thing they did a few years ago. It was cool, but really fucking weird. Doesn’t work very well acoustic without the aid of an entire orchestra. Doesn’t make the mark for me.
End of today’s rant.
This is not true for all musicians – some can do things with electric instruments that simply cannot be done with acoustic. I’d name a few, but they don’t really matter all that much for this argument. What matters are the artists that can handle their instruments and songs well… plugged and otherwise. I’ve excluded certain acts from this list because they’re no-brainers (Goo Goo Dolls are a perfect example, since they’re mostly acoustic anyway).
That’s a lot of intro. Enjoy it.
A Perfect Circle
A Perfect Circle was one of my favorite bands as a teenager, and they’ve stuck with me as I grew older. On the albums they have a few acoustic driven songs, but very few that really grab the listener are unplugged. Instead, they’ve got a very good acoustic set of songs that can be easily found online, all of which are mature and breathtaking.
They matter on this list because they’ve done more than just take the same songs and swap instruments. “The Hollow” was completely rewritten and arranged for the new instrumentation, including less conventional drums and piano along with acoustic guitar and bass. This arrangement stays current through most of the acoustic versions available, including “Weak and Powerless,” “Sleeping Beauty,” and “3 Libras.” They all take on a nearly mystic feeling. They are all distinct from and as powerful (if not more so) than the original album recordings.
Coheed and Cambria
It’s no secret that I’m a fan boy for Coheed, but I think this isn’t without reason. I’ve mentioned some of their acoustic work in previous posts. It’s important enough for this to be redundant.
Like A Perfect Circle, they’ve completely re-arranged various songs to transition better into the world of the unplugged. “A Favor House Atlantic” and “Here We Are Juggernaut” are fantastic examples of songs that are far more powerful on steel strings than they could be on nickel. Coheed and Cambria have a much more expansive body of acoustic songs than most other bands on this list. Most aren’t all that special unplugged, but the ones that are particularly grab the listener in a chokehold without letting them up to breathe until the song’s finished. “Favor House” was streamlined to reduce the monotonous crunch of the palm muted power chord chug and boil it down to a raked open progression with feeling. “Juggernaut” most notably now has an airy guitar line… written in a major key, rather than a minor key. It’s slower, and less driving. The track is much more relaxing for it.
Many songs need little work to sound acceptable acoustic, “Welcome Home” is already very well structured for unplugging outside of some effects in the solos. The listener hardly notices they’re even missing. “From Fear Through The Eyes of Madness” sounds just as happy and uplifting acoustic as it does in the album’s recording, with the only needless addition being an octaver on the vocals. This withstanding, the whole piece is lovely. “Blood Red Summer” and “The Running Free” have little changed about them, yet both are somehow better acoustic than they were originally. Maybe this is why I’m such an avid fan.
Godsmack
Godsmack’s first album is one of my favorite hard rock albums of all time. Then they released the second album, and things fell apart for my opinion of them. After another bad album, they decided to release an acoustic album and saved themselves.
Like all other bands on this list, they arrange songs that were previously electric for a new life, and like all other bands on this list, the new versions are usually better than the originals. A notable difference is that two new songs were written solely for acoustic instrumentation, “Touché” and “Voices,” if memory serves. Both are worth the album purchase.
Not everything is so fantastic unplugged, “Keep Away” feels like it was only included because of it’s popularity as the original single. The new arrangement of “Awake” (now entitled “Asleep”) is soulless and monotonous. It’s an inspired attempt, and on principle it’s a nice twist to leave only the bones of the song that convinced so many hundreds of thousands of people to buy the second album. It just doesn’t work very well. Despite all this, they’re still talented enough to stand on this list alongside the other juggernauts.
Rise Against
A neo-punk band can rock out with nylon and steel strings? For serious?
Yes.
They don’t have all that many songs acoustic, but there are enough to make them noteworthy. Besides already acoustic songs (“Swing Life Away” and “Hero of War”) they’ve done “Prayer of the Refugee,” “Ready to Fall,” “Re-Education Through Labor” and many others acoustic. Stripping down the screaming and strummy chord progressions shows well written, hooky, powerful songs that have pop sensibilities without sacrificing meaningful significance. They aren’t generally all that different from the originals besides the change in vocal tone and naked strings, but that’s enough to make it notable.
Stone Temple Pilots
There are a lot of things that contribute to STP’s placement on this list. Most notably is Scott Weiland in his prime, when he could still control his voice and do nearly anything he really wanted. Didn’t matter that he was a fledgling drug addict, all that mattered was his considerable vocal ability. Everything else for the acoustic recordings was perfect as well: Simple percussion, straight-forward guitar, and nearly unchanged bass. That’s all it really took to make some of the best songs in the grunge era even better.
Most notable are “Big Empty,” “Plush,” and “Sourgirl.” With the exception of “Sourgirl,” nearly every song available unplugged were from the earlier career, with the later being the last real single before the band fell apart (and from what I understand, recently reunited or some silly nonsense). I wish they’d kept up with the acoustic material, they could’ve done so much more.
Honorable Mentions
Pearl Jam – They have some fantastic songs acoustic, but none really surpass the originals in terms of improvements or arrangements. “Black” is the only one that really stands out.
Lacuna Coil – Lacuna Coil probably should’ve been included above just for Christina Scabia’s ability alone, and how nice her voice sounds with acoustic guitars. The problems come from the other singer, who really sounds quite terrible. While the guitarists aren’t bad unplugged, they and Christina alone cannot make the songs sound as good as they do when distortion covers the other guy’s voice. However, “Heaven’s a Lie” is quite awesome unplugged.
Staind – They don’t do anything all that special with their music acoustic, and honestly get kind of boring as they go. The one important note is that they cover songs quite well. “Nothing Else Matters” and “Black” are both lovely. Also, “Epiphany” was already acoustic, but it sounds so nice unplugged. This is probably just Aaron Lewis’ voice being so lovely.
Ill Niño – I really wanted to put this band on the list, but they’ve got a few problems. They’ve only got two unplugged songs (and “How Can I Live?” is fantastic acoustic). The singer also can’t seem to control his voice, which is a huge problem. If he had vocal lessons and they wrote more acoustic, then I’m sure I’d love them more.
No Doubt – Not gonna lie, I was never much a fan of No Doubt. I knew a few songs from them, but nothing ever really grabbed me. Unplugged, they’re a cubic shit-ton more interesting, but they don’t really feel like they’re doing all that much to the music. I enjoy them more this way, but they don’t quite rub musically as a band should when they transition between an amp and a sound hole. I think I do enjoy them more now though, for what it’s worth.
Disagree?
This is just how it works in my taste, you don’t have to agree. Maybe you want to count an act like Pink Floyd, who mostly wrote in acoustic. I love them too, but there’s no transition to really look at. Maybe you want to look at the Paige and Plant acoustic thing they did a few years ago. It was cool, but really fucking weird. Doesn’t work very well acoustic without the aid of an entire orchestra. Doesn’t make the mark for me.
End of today’s rant.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
On Maturity.
It's funny how such a simple concept is so easily twisted and bastardized. Maturity shouldn't be difficult to grasp, but for whatever reason it slips away from many "mature" adults.
Maturity can be applied to many things. A boy is considered physically mature by the end of his teens. He will have grown in spurts, developed facial hair, and other things kick in. This doesn't mean that his mind matures at the same rate, or that he will emotionally ever mature.
The biggest misconception is that adults are mature. Maturity has nothing to do with age. It is not a miraculous sticker that gets put on your forehead that says you'll comprehend everything and be able to handle life. Legally, I've been an adult for six years. Most of my friends are considered adults at this point as well. Some recent things they've done include fighting over girls, holding grudges over (literally) nothing, playing with plastic knives, lighting themselves on fire, and the complete inability to cope with death. These are all different people - and with my social circle, a tiny percentage of the people I associate with - and each of them has space to grow in various ways. These people are also amazing musicians, intellectuals, humorists, and aspiring politicians. They're all adults, and all reasonably stable. Just immature.
Emotional maturity comes from understanding that there are things that are beyond your control that will sometimes hurt your feelings. The mature response is to deal with it, find something that helps sooth it, and get on with life. The juvenile response is to rage at the world and make hollow threats. No one can overcome all circumstances in life. It is not mature to be the "man's man," and punch things while ejaculating into their coffee. It doesn't matter if that's what you suspect Chuck Norris would do, it matters that you look like a 13 year old that just realized the girl you were crushing on doesn't like boys. Tough fucking shit.
A maturing mind is something vastly different from the other two common sorts, but it is linked to both. When I say that someone is mentally immature, I'm not saying they're handicapped/disabled/whatever other PC terms exist for "retarded" these days. Mental maturity comes from the practiced ability to handle situations that are much larger than human comprehension. Among these are astronomical numbers, death, birth, the question of God, and the realization that all that one does effects hundreds of thousands of people around them. It isn't something that happens suddenly, despite the concept of an epiphany. You will realize that everything dies - including you - at some point, but you will spend years trying to understand it. You will realize that God might not exist, but you won't comprehend the implications for the majority of your life. You will realize at some point that the creation of new life is something inherently god-like, but you won't ever fully understand the intricacies of it. Anyone that claims to is lying. Even doctors - who know the process inside and out (all that sex from med school) - will never fully understand the concept of when/if/how a soul is injected into a new being.
Maturity comes in many forms, but the form it should come in is exercised control and the knowledge of when self restraint is an option and when it should be thrown to the wind. Most of the time the wind gets too much. Hold on to some for yourself.
Errata: "Mature" should never be applied to television and music. "Mature" audiences just existed long enough to have been exposed to it previously. Same way that a kid shouldn't play most Mature games. They can't fucking comprehend what the implication of killing someone is, why desensitize them to it before they know what it is?
Maturity can be applied to many things. A boy is considered physically mature by the end of his teens. He will have grown in spurts, developed facial hair, and other things kick in. This doesn't mean that his mind matures at the same rate, or that he will emotionally ever mature.
The biggest misconception is that adults are mature. Maturity has nothing to do with age. It is not a miraculous sticker that gets put on your forehead that says you'll comprehend everything and be able to handle life. Legally, I've been an adult for six years. Most of my friends are considered adults at this point as well. Some recent things they've done include fighting over girls, holding grudges over (literally) nothing, playing with plastic knives, lighting themselves on fire, and the complete inability to cope with death. These are all different people - and with my social circle, a tiny percentage of the people I associate with - and each of them has space to grow in various ways. These people are also amazing musicians, intellectuals, humorists, and aspiring politicians. They're all adults, and all reasonably stable. Just immature.
Emotional maturity comes from understanding that there are things that are beyond your control that will sometimes hurt your feelings. The mature response is to deal with it, find something that helps sooth it, and get on with life. The juvenile response is to rage at the world and make hollow threats. No one can overcome all circumstances in life. It is not mature to be the "man's man," and punch things while ejaculating into their coffee. It doesn't matter if that's what you suspect Chuck Norris would do, it matters that you look like a 13 year old that just realized the girl you were crushing on doesn't like boys. Tough fucking shit.
A maturing mind is something vastly different from the other two common sorts, but it is linked to both. When I say that someone is mentally immature, I'm not saying they're handicapped/disabled/whatever other PC terms exist for "retarded" these days. Mental maturity comes from the practiced ability to handle situations that are much larger than human comprehension. Among these are astronomical numbers, death, birth, the question of God, and the realization that all that one does effects hundreds of thousands of people around them. It isn't something that happens suddenly, despite the concept of an epiphany. You will realize that everything dies - including you - at some point, but you will spend years trying to understand it. You will realize that God might not exist, but you won't comprehend the implications for the majority of your life. You will realize at some point that the creation of new life is something inherently god-like, but you won't ever fully understand the intricacies of it. Anyone that claims to is lying. Even doctors - who know the process inside and out (all that sex from med school) - will never fully understand the concept of when/if/how a soul is injected into a new being.
Maturity comes in many forms, but the form it should come in is exercised control and the knowledge of when self restraint is an option and when it should be thrown to the wind. Most of the time the wind gets too much. Hold on to some for yourself.
Errata: "Mature" should never be applied to television and music. "Mature" audiences just existed long enough to have been exposed to it previously. Same way that a kid shouldn't play most Mature games. They can't fucking comprehend what the implication of killing someone is, why desensitize them to it before they know what it is?
Monday, March 22, 2010
On Religion.
I know it's a half hour late. Sorry.
I'm a deist by choice, but its' a choice I came to through logic. I was originally born and baptized Lutheran, but my mother and her husband decided it was much more fashionable to convert me to Catholicism when I was in second grade. They didn't think it was fair that I should feel left out while all the other kids made their first communion. Time went on, I was confirmed in seventh grade. This is about the time I stopped believing.
There were a lot of things that drove me away from Catholicism (and really all Christianity), but the biggest was the realization that a priest has amnesty from the law in the name of God, with the backing of The Church. The Capital-C has the power to keep their folks out of jail, regardless of what laws they break and which sins they confess to one another. Not all clergy are guilty of the grandiose atrocities that Capital-C is getting well known for, but the ones that are there aren't being punished for what they've done. Just like when a cop goes corrupt, they don't usually get reprimanded for it unless it's against another cop. If a priest sodomizes another priest, I'd imagine they'd get punished. Altar boys though? Who gives a shit? For the record, I was never an altar boy, nor was I ever raped. It's not that personal. I just hate rapists of any/all sort.
Further issues with Capital-C arose when I noticed that it was essentially doing the same thing that many government officials attempt, in collecting money from the folks that don't have any to subsist. I probably wouldn't mind so much if the community was funded entirely from the well to do, but we're not all rich. My family isn't, I sure as hell am not. If a buck is all I could afford to toss into the green bucket, that's about all that I could afford. I shouldn't get dirty looks for the absence of it.
Capital-C really pushed me off edge when we were being taught sex-ed in my grade school. The private school didn't really say very much about sex except that you shouldn't do it until you're married. Then they showed us a head-on video of a woman giving birth, to ensure all boners were killed. They didn't talk about condoms, or STDs, or much of anything else. The teachers didn't know that a decent chunk of their class was already playing with the beginnings of it, even if no one'd bumped uglies yet. I was too much of a wholesome nerd to do any of it yet, but I knew so many that were. Funny how the double standards bite you in the balls.
In high school I decided to be an atheist, but only because I didn't know what other options there were. I studied as many others as I could - looked into Buddhism, Judaism, various nature faiths - but nothing really made sense to me. All the doctrine was essentially the same, even if the zeal fluctuated between them. I pulled the word "agnostic" out of Donnie Darko, really liking the gray area between blind faith and cognitive thought. I kept this claim well into the start of college.
After two years of college, I decided that some sort of cosmic power had to exist. I didn't decide because of some stellar event, or because I watched a baby get born (a second time), or because I prayed at random and it came true. Prayers only come true if you fight for them, just like wishes.
I knew people who were overseas fighting for our right to oil, and some had actually died. I knew people who were raped, and couldn't get vengeance for them. I knew people who were psychologically abused to the point where they'd do anything on behalf of their mental captors, Stockholm syndrome taking root. My brother was born with a rare heart defect, the same one that killed my uncle as an infant. Family members have floated in and out of rehab and alcoholics anonymous, and I've heard stories so unflattering about my fore bearers that I was nearly ashamed to claim membership in my family house. Yet despite all of these things, flowers still grow. Babies are still born, children are still innocent and beautiful in their natural curiosity. People still find love, and grow old together. Music capable of pulling people back from suicide is written, and people still take solace in knowing that they are never alone.
While the world is bleak, there is still beauty in it. While we all suffer, there is still something to redeem us and bring reason to life.
I can't believe it's a coincidence, regardless of whatever else I'm capable of believing. I don't feel that any human should have the right to control others with brainwashing in the name of faith. I'm not going to hell because I had a bacon-cheeseburger on Friday in lent with some shellfish on the side. I'm not going to burn for eternity because I support same sex marriage, or because I believe that all people should have the ability to have an abortion, whether they exercise it or not.
I'm a deist because of you.
I'm a deist by choice, but its' a choice I came to through logic. I was originally born and baptized Lutheran, but my mother and her husband decided it was much more fashionable to convert me to Catholicism when I was in second grade. They didn't think it was fair that I should feel left out while all the other kids made their first communion. Time went on, I was confirmed in seventh grade. This is about the time I stopped believing.
There were a lot of things that drove me away from Catholicism (and really all Christianity), but the biggest was the realization that a priest has amnesty from the law in the name of God, with the backing of The Church. The Capital-C has the power to keep their folks out of jail, regardless of what laws they break and which sins they confess to one another. Not all clergy are guilty of the grandiose atrocities that Capital-C is getting well known for, but the ones that are there aren't being punished for what they've done. Just like when a cop goes corrupt, they don't usually get reprimanded for it unless it's against another cop. If a priest sodomizes another priest, I'd imagine they'd get punished. Altar boys though? Who gives a shit? For the record, I was never an altar boy, nor was I ever raped. It's not that personal. I just hate rapists of any/all sort.
Further issues with Capital-C arose when I noticed that it was essentially doing the same thing that many government officials attempt, in collecting money from the folks that don't have any to subsist. I probably wouldn't mind so much if the community was funded entirely from the well to do, but we're not all rich. My family isn't, I sure as hell am not. If a buck is all I could afford to toss into the green bucket, that's about all that I could afford. I shouldn't get dirty looks for the absence of it.
Capital-C really pushed me off edge when we were being taught sex-ed in my grade school. The private school didn't really say very much about sex except that you shouldn't do it until you're married. Then they showed us a head-on video of a woman giving birth, to ensure all boners were killed. They didn't talk about condoms, or STDs, or much of anything else. The teachers didn't know that a decent chunk of their class was already playing with the beginnings of it, even if no one'd bumped uglies yet. I was too much of a wholesome nerd to do any of it yet, but I knew so many that were. Funny how the double standards bite you in the balls.
In high school I decided to be an atheist, but only because I didn't know what other options there were. I studied as many others as I could - looked into Buddhism, Judaism, various nature faiths - but nothing really made sense to me. All the doctrine was essentially the same, even if the zeal fluctuated between them. I pulled the word "agnostic" out of Donnie Darko, really liking the gray area between blind faith and cognitive thought. I kept this claim well into the start of college.
After two years of college, I decided that some sort of cosmic power had to exist. I didn't decide because of some stellar event, or because I watched a baby get born (a second time), or because I prayed at random and it came true. Prayers only come true if you fight for them, just like wishes.
I knew people who were overseas fighting for our right to oil, and some had actually died. I knew people who were raped, and couldn't get vengeance for them. I knew people who were psychologically abused to the point where they'd do anything on behalf of their mental captors, Stockholm syndrome taking root. My brother was born with a rare heart defect, the same one that killed my uncle as an infant. Family members have floated in and out of rehab and alcoholics anonymous, and I've heard stories so unflattering about my fore bearers that I was nearly ashamed to claim membership in my family house. Yet despite all of these things, flowers still grow. Babies are still born, children are still innocent and beautiful in their natural curiosity. People still find love, and grow old together. Music capable of pulling people back from suicide is written, and people still take solace in knowing that they are never alone.
While the world is bleak, there is still beauty in it. While we all suffer, there is still something to redeem us and bring reason to life.
I can't believe it's a coincidence, regardless of whatever else I'm capable of believing. I don't feel that any human should have the right to control others with brainwashing in the name of faith. I'm not going to hell because I had a bacon-cheeseburger on Friday in lent with some shellfish on the side. I'm not going to burn for eternity because I support same sex marriage, or because I believe that all people should have the ability to have an abortion, whether they exercise it or not.
I'm a deist because of you.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Games filler rant!
Post number 70 is a throw away. Why? Because I have other things that are more pressing. I'll edit this with a proper post after I'm finished with my midterm, work, meetings, and getting an incomplete class fixed tomorrow.
Also; Nintendo needs to step up their game for the downloadable games. PSN's got a pretty awesome lineup. Granted, Nintendo's also much less expensive in many cases, but the quality of games is vastly different. Even just looking at the family friendly things, like puzzlers, Sony's finally matched Nintendo. Never thought the day would come.
Also; Nintendo needs to step up their game for the downloadable games. PSN's got a pretty awesome lineup. Granted, Nintendo's also much less expensive in many cases, but the quality of games is vastly different. Even just looking at the family friendly things, like puzzlers, Sony's finally matched Nintendo. Never thought the day would come.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Empathy Depleted
Everyone's got a right to feel how they want, say what they want, and act how they want within the rights of other people. This doesn't mean that anyone should expect empathy, when that emotional resource has been exhausted. I firmly believe that all people are entitled to sympathy and empathy in moderation, but to practically exfoliate misery into a room for all to breathe no longer qualifies as the need for dry shoulders to cry into. I'm not one to throw salt in someone's eyes after they've been shanked in the gut, but to whine for days doesn't make it heal any faster.
I feel that all people should be capable of doing what is needed when it is needed, even if most don't. If someone is contracted to do a job, it does not matter what else is happening in their personal life. It should not effect their workplace performance. If this is a problem, there is no shame in bowing out and getting someone more stable in their stead. I do not say this to be cruel, I say it for more pragmatic reasons. If someone is suffering, they would most likely not want to do something that could be hazardous and only amplify the misery. The employer will notice the dip in performance, and it will likely only hit the victim with backlash beyond what they can handle at that time. Failure should never reverberate within someone's life in this way.
Beyond this, it's best to think of others when miserable. If the miserable one is an emotional projector - casting emotions onto others - then it's best to avoid the people they care about that can't help the state. It will only bring them misery too, and likely cause friction in otherwise well lubed friendships. Likewise, if they're an emotional receptor - easily influenced by the feelings of others - then it's best to be around people that can bring contentment. They will feel better about themselves, and all friends will know they helped out a loved one.
The true point lies in the length of time that one can wallow in self pity. I know people that've made it an art, perfecting it for a decade or longer. Sane, healthy people generally shouldn't for an extended period of time, depending on the situation. If someone has been forced into a situation that makes them grow up, the circumstances are unacceptable for an extended slant of sadness. No, it isn't pleasant. No, no one likes it when this sort of thing happens. Yes, it is actually a gift that karma threw at them. They should take it with open arms, this sort of thing doesn't happen often.
I hate when the banks of nonsense flood. I'm the one stuck cleaning silt from the surviving farmers.
I feel that all people should be capable of doing what is needed when it is needed, even if most don't. If someone is contracted to do a job, it does not matter what else is happening in their personal life. It should not effect their workplace performance. If this is a problem, there is no shame in bowing out and getting someone more stable in their stead. I do not say this to be cruel, I say it for more pragmatic reasons. If someone is suffering, they would most likely not want to do something that could be hazardous and only amplify the misery. The employer will notice the dip in performance, and it will likely only hit the victim with backlash beyond what they can handle at that time. Failure should never reverberate within someone's life in this way.
Beyond this, it's best to think of others when miserable. If the miserable one is an emotional projector - casting emotions onto others - then it's best to avoid the people they care about that can't help the state. It will only bring them misery too, and likely cause friction in otherwise well lubed friendships. Likewise, if they're an emotional receptor - easily influenced by the feelings of others - then it's best to be around people that can bring contentment. They will feel better about themselves, and all friends will know they helped out a loved one.
The true point lies in the length of time that one can wallow in self pity. I know people that've made it an art, perfecting it for a decade or longer. Sane, healthy people generally shouldn't for an extended period of time, depending on the situation. If someone has been forced into a situation that makes them grow up, the circumstances are unacceptable for an extended slant of sadness. No, it isn't pleasant. No, no one likes it when this sort of thing happens. Yes, it is actually a gift that karma threw at them. They should take it with open arms, this sort of thing doesn't happen often.
I hate when the banks of nonsense flood. I'm the one stuck cleaning silt from the surviving farmers.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Anger equates to an empty cup.
Part of being successful in life is choosing the appropriate responses to everyday events.
Earlier I was with some friends to see Alice in Wonderland. Before the movie started, the woman sitting next to me spilled a liter of fruit punch all over my lap. I had some options to consider, but rather than punching her in the face, getting upset, or demanding anything, I calmly removed all electronics from that side of my body, stood up, and went to the bathroom. She apologized profusely, and I'm told that while I was gone she continued and feared that I'd be angry with her.
I had every right to be upset, but I wasn't. It was an accident. It sucks that it happened, but if I'd raged at her it wouldn't've dried my pants. I was uncomfortable for a decent chunk of the movie, my pants are stained slightly red across the right side, and I was sticky after. This isn't worth getting angry over, because it wasn't her intent. With the prices that the local movie theater charges, it wouldn't be anyone's intent to waste a full cup of liquid. That's more than five dollars worth of drink, now undrinkable.
Conversely, I do get annoyed when people are short with me. Especially once they say "whatever." To me, a "whatever" translates to "I'd tell you to fuck yourself, but I don't really care enough to put the effort out." It's one of the bigger signs of disrespect towards me. In this case, I still pushed the olive branch out after the "whatever," and was greeted with short half answers. I don't mind that people can be moody sometimes, or that someone's entitled to say and do what they want. However, when it stems from something that I've already tried helping with (literally) dozens of times, I don't appreciate being snubbed.
When possible, conflicts like this should be avoided. They're silly, and do not amount to any productive sum. They aren't always possible to avoid (especially when they stem from selfishness being passed off as abandonment), but in all other cases they should be steered around like a moose on the freeway. You will not win should you collide. The moose will possibly walk away to stand in the road, blocking other cars down the line, but you will be totaled.
Don't get angry over silly things, but also avoid the moose. It's a trap.
Earlier I was with some friends to see Alice in Wonderland. Before the movie started, the woman sitting next to me spilled a liter of fruit punch all over my lap. I had some options to consider, but rather than punching her in the face, getting upset, or demanding anything, I calmly removed all electronics from that side of my body, stood up, and went to the bathroom. She apologized profusely, and I'm told that while I was gone she continued and feared that I'd be angry with her.
I had every right to be upset, but I wasn't. It was an accident. It sucks that it happened, but if I'd raged at her it wouldn't've dried my pants. I was uncomfortable for a decent chunk of the movie, my pants are stained slightly red across the right side, and I was sticky after. This isn't worth getting angry over, because it wasn't her intent. With the prices that the local movie theater charges, it wouldn't be anyone's intent to waste a full cup of liquid. That's more than five dollars worth of drink, now undrinkable.
Conversely, I do get annoyed when people are short with me. Especially once they say "whatever." To me, a "whatever" translates to "I'd tell you to fuck yourself, but I don't really care enough to put the effort out." It's one of the bigger signs of disrespect towards me. In this case, I still pushed the olive branch out after the "whatever," and was greeted with short half answers. I don't mind that people can be moody sometimes, or that someone's entitled to say and do what they want. However, when it stems from something that I've already tried helping with (literally) dozens of times, I don't appreciate being snubbed.
When possible, conflicts like this should be avoided. They're silly, and do not amount to any productive sum. They aren't always possible to avoid (especially when they stem from selfishness being passed off as abandonment), but in all other cases they should be steered around like a moose on the freeway. You will not win should you collide. The moose will possibly walk away to stand in the road, blocking other cars down the line, but you will be totaled.
Don't get angry over silly things, but also avoid the moose. It's a trap.
Friday, March 5, 2010
The Juggernaut, Bitch.
I don't speak ill of most avid fans of various things, because I know that I'm a fanboy myself. Not of very many things, but the fact doesn't change.
The biggest/most obvious thing is Coheed and Cambria. I've seen them something like ten times live, I own all albums, the Neverender: Children of the Fence special set, both mass produced live DVDs, the fourth album on vinyl, and a number of shirts and posters. My copy of Good Apollo Vol. 1 is signed by the whole band (old drummer, not Chris). I own the comics that explain the story... all of them, even the ones out of print for the last four years. I have no shame in enjoying this band so much, and I don't feel I should. I love the music, the attempt at a story rubs my geek glands in an appealing way, and the live show are usually more brutal than heavier acts and other genres of music. I have no reason not to love them.
Unlike most other fanboys, I'm not blinded by how much I adore them and their music to see when something isn't good. While I hold that there's no such thing as a bad Coheed show, there are bad shows for Coheed. I've been to shows that weren't as good performance wise, and the crowd definitely noticed. There's one song on the earlier albums that I don't like. Just one. It's not a bad song, but it's too pop-hooky for me. I'm not deluded into thinking that Claudio Sanchez shits gold bricks with platinum crusting on the outside, whether or not it seems that way sometimes.
They have a new album coming out soon, Year of the Black Rainbow. The title's a bit lame, but so far the songs are amazing. They've decided to present a viral press-drumming by releasing various things at the end of 20 timers counting down days, hours, et cetra. Five have hit their goals, two of them songs from the new album.
"The Broken" is a bottom heavy, straight forward song that has a very heavy feel to it. Some lyrics go beyond the plot's limitations and actually reach out like a song is supposed to. Most of their work does, but sometimes it comes out forced for the melodies. "The Broken" has a few lovely lines that I'll probably bastardize down the line and turn into tag lines and titles for posts. The song has a weird balance of shredding faded into the background and hook melody to ensure it's stuck in your head. The song is catchy, made me smile, and sets a nice precedent for the rest of the album.
"Here We Are Juggernaut" is the official single for this album, even though "The Broken" could've easily stood on it's own. "Juggernaut" is a conglomeration of the Second Stage Turbine Blade and In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3 albums, along with a fat bass sound reminiscent of late Smashing Pumpkins songs. It features some of the lowest vocals Claudio Sanchez has ever recorded, likely a side effect of age and smoking.
"Juggernaut" is a good song, but it hasn't really grown on me yet. Granted, it's only been out for five hours, but usually I go ape-shit by now. I love the IKSSE3 lead work for the choruses, and the SSTB breakdowns between verses. I dig the bass sound, and the drums seem tastefully bland besides Chris Penne's amazing kick drums and tom roll leads. I don't think it's really hit me yet, maybe. Maybe the blend of awesome parts is just too strange to be easily absorbed. That's probably bad (sales wise) but it shows a lot of artistic integrity to release something that's as likely to not be well received as the lead single. Especially when it's already known that you have other songs that would be better as singles. Then again, they did this with the last album too.
"The Running Free" is my least favorite song on No World For Tomorrow. My two favorites were both performed before the album's single was ever picked, and those live leaks gave them huge acclaim. "Mother Superior" and "Gravemakers and Gunslingers" are both much better choices for singles, but "Running Free" got picked instead. Worst song on the album, even though it's still a good song. Same way that "Blood Red Summer" was somehow a single, when it's the only song from them I can't really enjoy. Still a good song, but it's not good for a Coheed song. Like the whole album St. Anger was to Metallica. Actually, the entire decade of the 90's for Metallica barring S&M (because live albums with orchestras are automatically exempt from suck).
So maybe Juggernaut will grow on me. I hope so, there's too much cool shit going on for me not to enjoy it eventually. It just doesn't feel like it had the guidance it should've.
The biggest/most obvious thing is Coheed and Cambria. I've seen them something like ten times live, I own all albums, the Neverender: Children of the Fence special set, both mass produced live DVDs, the fourth album on vinyl, and a number of shirts and posters. My copy of Good Apollo Vol. 1 is signed by the whole band (old drummer, not Chris). I own the comics that explain the story... all of them, even the ones out of print for the last four years. I have no shame in enjoying this band so much, and I don't feel I should. I love the music, the attempt at a story rubs my geek glands in an appealing way, and the live show are usually more brutal than heavier acts and other genres of music. I have no reason not to love them.
Unlike most other fanboys, I'm not blinded by how much I adore them and their music to see when something isn't good. While I hold that there's no such thing as a bad Coheed show, there are bad shows for Coheed. I've been to shows that weren't as good performance wise, and the crowd definitely noticed. There's one song on the earlier albums that I don't like. Just one. It's not a bad song, but it's too pop-hooky for me. I'm not deluded into thinking that Claudio Sanchez shits gold bricks with platinum crusting on the outside, whether or not it seems that way sometimes.
They have a new album coming out soon, Year of the Black Rainbow. The title's a bit lame, but so far the songs are amazing. They've decided to present a viral press-drumming by releasing various things at the end of 20 timers counting down days, hours, et cetra. Five have hit their goals, two of them songs from the new album.
"The Broken" is a bottom heavy, straight forward song that has a very heavy feel to it. Some lyrics go beyond the plot's limitations and actually reach out like a song is supposed to. Most of their work does, but sometimes it comes out forced for the melodies. "The Broken" has a few lovely lines that I'll probably bastardize down the line and turn into tag lines and titles for posts. The song has a weird balance of shredding faded into the background and hook melody to ensure it's stuck in your head. The song is catchy, made me smile, and sets a nice precedent for the rest of the album.
"Here We Are Juggernaut" is the official single for this album, even though "The Broken" could've easily stood on it's own. "Juggernaut" is a conglomeration of the Second Stage Turbine Blade and In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3 albums, along with a fat bass sound reminiscent of late Smashing Pumpkins songs. It features some of the lowest vocals Claudio Sanchez has ever recorded, likely a side effect of age and smoking.
"Juggernaut" is a good song, but it hasn't really grown on me yet. Granted, it's only been out for five hours, but usually I go ape-shit by now. I love the IKSSE3 lead work for the choruses, and the SSTB breakdowns between verses. I dig the bass sound, and the drums seem tastefully bland besides Chris Penne's amazing kick drums and tom roll leads. I don't think it's really hit me yet, maybe. Maybe the blend of awesome parts is just too strange to be easily absorbed. That's probably bad (sales wise) but it shows a lot of artistic integrity to release something that's as likely to not be well received as the lead single. Especially when it's already known that you have other songs that would be better as singles. Then again, they did this with the last album too.
"The Running Free" is my least favorite song on No World For Tomorrow. My two favorites were both performed before the album's single was ever picked, and those live leaks gave them huge acclaim. "Mother Superior" and "Gravemakers and Gunslingers" are both much better choices for singles, but "Running Free" got picked instead. Worst song on the album, even though it's still a good song. Same way that "Blood Red Summer" was somehow a single, when it's the only song from them I can't really enjoy. Still a good song, but it's not good for a Coheed song. Like the whole album St. Anger was to Metallica. Actually, the entire decade of the 90's for Metallica barring S&M (because live albums with orchestras are automatically exempt from suck).
So maybe Juggernaut will grow on me. I hope so, there's too much cool shit going on for me not to enjoy it eventually. It just doesn't feel like it had the guidance it should've.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Can't Fight the Future
“People they come together, people they fall apart. No one can stop us now. ‘Cause we are all made of stars.” - Moby
College has a funny way of taking you away from the things and people you love. Sometimes you're still present for them, but ultimately you're somewhere else mentally, and everyone notices. You don't realize it until much later, but by the time you're finished with your Associates, Bachelors, Masters, or Doctorate depending on personal preference, you are transfigured into a new person independent of who you were when you started.
In high school I used to love to tell stories in my writing, drawing fiction from reality in Star Wars storytelling forums online. I built fantasies around characters loosely based around who I was then. They were facets of the things I liked, aspired to be, and avoided ever becoming. I wrote about an evil mastermind that could shape-shift, but eventually realized he had a soul and shifted away from the Dark Side of the Force. I wrote about a survivalist in a post-apocalyptic environment, after God and Satan have both killed each other off, leaving Earth, Heaven, and Hell behind. I wrote short stories about romancing extra terrestrials as satire.
Now I write nonfiction. It's still wet and thick with detail when I can help it, but nonfiction only leaves so much room for fun. I've stretched out instants that take no more than three seconds in real time to a three page psychological odyssey, in which a mouse click becomes the most difficult thing in the world. I've painted vivid images of college arcades, capturing snippets of tournament gamers by their details to give an accurate account of their personalities. I've delved into the nature of things, described delusions and daydreams with more clarity than reality often brings, and earned readers' sympathies for characters that should have none for their actions.
I never used to write poetry, yet now the structure of verse seems almost comforting in a way.
None of this seems important to you now, and it really shouldn't. People change as they grow older, that's a side effect of existence. College is a catalyst, not an origin. The ways my writing has changed reflect the ways my own personality has changed. I'm not the same person I was last year, or the year before, or five years before that. I like who I am and what I've become, even if I don't like everything about it. I can look back at those years now and draw from them. The experiences, the sights, the people - they're all back story now. A proper base to build the character on for future developments and plot twists.
We're all works of fiction in our own ways, but acknowledging it at least gives ground for the plot. I don't know for certain when the back story stopped and my plot began. I don't know if I'm simply drawn from a writer's mind like my Sith Master was, or if I'm a blur of detail in an overarching piece. I don't know if I'm just trying to survive after God and Satan dueled to mutual demise. Maybe I'm a rhyming couplet at the end of a sonnet.
I do know for certain, however, that right now I like where the story is going. I like the narrative arc, and (assuming that I am the protagonist of the story) my antagonists are not without sympathetic traits. My characters are developed and complex, and I love them all. I'm proud of how my story's coming along.
We should all be proud of our stories.
College has a funny way of taking you away from the things and people you love. Sometimes you're still present for them, but ultimately you're somewhere else mentally, and everyone notices. You don't realize it until much later, but by the time you're finished with your Associates, Bachelors, Masters, or Doctorate depending on personal preference, you are transfigured into a new person independent of who you were when you started.
In high school I used to love to tell stories in my writing, drawing fiction from reality in Star Wars storytelling forums online. I built fantasies around characters loosely based around who I was then. They were facets of the things I liked, aspired to be, and avoided ever becoming. I wrote about an evil mastermind that could shape-shift, but eventually realized he had a soul and shifted away from the Dark Side of the Force. I wrote about a survivalist in a post-apocalyptic environment, after God and Satan have both killed each other off, leaving Earth, Heaven, and Hell behind. I wrote short stories about romancing extra terrestrials as satire.
Now I write nonfiction. It's still wet and thick with detail when I can help it, but nonfiction only leaves so much room for fun. I've stretched out instants that take no more than three seconds in real time to a three page psychological odyssey, in which a mouse click becomes the most difficult thing in the world. I've painted vivid images of college arcades, capturing snippets of tournament gamers by their details to give an accurate account of their personalities. I've delved into the nature of things, described delusions and daydreams with more clarity than reality often brings, and earned readers' sympathies for characters that should have none for their actions.
I never used to write poetry, yet now the structure of verse seems almost comforting in a way.
None of this seems important to you now, and it really shouldn't. People change as they grow older, that's a side effect of existence. College is a catalyst, not an origin. The ways my writing has changed reflect the ways my own personality has changed. I'm not the same person I was last year, or the year before, or five years before that. I like who I am and what I've become, even if I don't like everything about it. I can look back at those years now and draw from them. The experiences, the sights, the people - they're all back story now. A proper base to build the character on for future developments and plot twists.
We're all works of fiction in our own ways, but acknowledging it at least gives ground for the plot. I don't know for certain when the back story stopped and my plot began. I don't know if I'm simply drawn from a writer's mind like my Sith Master was, or if I'm a blur of detail in an overarching piece. I don't know if I'm just trying to survive after God and Satan dueled to mutual demise. Maybe I'm a rhyming couplet at the end of a sonnet.
I do know for certain, however, that right now I like where the story is going. I like the narrative arc, and (assuming that I am the protagonist of the story) my antagonists are not without sympathetic traits. My characters are developed and complex, and I love them all. I'm proud of how my story's coming along.
We should all be proud of our stories.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Is there no world for tomorrow?
Vinyl is underrated in contemporary society. If it weren't, then I would not have been able to get Coheed and Cambria's No World for Tomorrow for less than $10. I'm not complaining that it was so cheap, but I do wonder how long I can pull things like this off for. The prices will either go up due to rarity, or the product will just cease to be. I hate that.
The analog and the hard copies of music will never fully die, as I've discussed previously, but that doesn't mean that all mediums will retain value long enough to exist. Just like how tech savvy families across the world have had to convert home movies to DVD from the original cassette, it's nearly time for people to convert their CDs entirely to MP3 and FLAC formats and drop them on DVDs. Some already have.
For this reason, I'm very strongly considering buying a turntable of my own. Vinyl albums and 45's only exist because of the insane popularity of DJs, perhaps more now because of DJ Hero. I know they're safe for a while longer, until a proper digital analog (such a silly expression) can fully replicate what a turntable and a nice beat can do. Most DJs don't even really scratch as much anymore, most just sample, loop, and program swatches ahead of time these days. I'd give it another ten years or so, with a decline until the end.
Right now I'd be using a turntable in the house, though not my own. It's likely that I'll get more vinyl down the line beyond what I've already got, and I don't foresee myself ever giving up something with so much inherent beauty. Even if I resort to vintage shops and thrift stores alone, I don't think I'm ready to let this wonderful medium die.
Besides all this, Travis' and Claudio's guitars scream for an older time without dating themselves. Why shouldn't they sound their best?
The analog and the hard copies of music will never fully die, as I've discussed previously, but that doesn't mean that all mediums will retain value long enough to exist. Just like how tech savvy families across the world have had to convert home movies to DVD from the original cassette, it's nearly time for people to convert their CDs entirely to MP3 and FLAC formats and drop them on DVDs. Some already have.
For this reason, I'm very strongly considering buying a turntable of my own. Vinyl albums and 45's only exist because of the insane popularity of DJs, perhaps more now because of DJ Hero. I know they're safe for a while longer, until a proper digital analog (such a silly expression) can fully replicate what a turntable and a nice beat can do. Most DJs don't even really scratch as much anymore, most just sample, loop, and program swatches ahead of time these days. I'd give it another ten years or so, with a decline until the end.
Right now I'd be using a turntable in the house, though not my own. It's likely that I'll get more vinyl down the line beyond what I've already got, and I don't foresee myself ever giving up something with so much inherent beauty. Even if I resort to vintage shops and thrift stores alone, I don't think I'm ready to let this wonderful medium die.
Besides all this, Travis' and Claudio's guitars scream for an older time without dating themselves. Why shouldn't they sound their best?
Friday, February 19, 2010
Flutes and Credit
Tonight was a very long night. This won't be a very long post.
I did some sound engineering for a jazz trio earlier today. I've worked with two of the three before, and they're all awesome guys. I'm not positive, but I think I might've been requested specifically for this event (which is pretty awesome, and warms my heart). This added pressure to my performance. It had to be spotless.
The first challenge came from the floor, as the staging we used was too small for the full trio. This was very minor, and took five minutes. The second, much greater challenge came from a cool effect. The namesake of the trio is an awesome flautist, and he uses an effect for live performances to get more 'umph' in the sound. The required cables weren't even close to being the same type, and had to go through two adapters to get the XLR and 1/4 inch cable to work together, followed by some futzing with cables.
I'm amazed that "futzing" is actually considered a word in spell check.
Then there were two hours of awesome music.
Then there was two hours of putting things away. Less fun.
Well after all this, on the way home, I had to teach a complete stranger how to do their job. It was almost a bad joke. This worked out well, since I wasn't sure what I wanted to write tonight. Thanks, guy.
A close friend of mine needed gas in the car, and by order of the pump paid ahead of time at the attendant's window. The actual bill came to seven dollars less than the pre-paid amount.
The attendant claimed to not know how to give a refund, because the system had been installed fifteen minutes prior. After a few words (all kind and genuine) I was able to show him how to use the credit refund system. It was nearly identical to one I'd used in a previous job of my own, and after a small amount of trial and error, my friend got their money back.
Initially I thought it might've been greed, until I talked to the kid at the counter. I realized he was a victim of poor leadership, and that his should-be teacher/supervisor had failed him. I smiled politely, gave my friend their copy of the receipt, and we went on our way.
My lesson for the day is to remain patient, no matter how difficult things become. Just because you have a road block doesn't mean that you've an insurmountable obstacle that will crush you if you resist. It just means that you need to do what you can, and if that's what's needed, it will resolve the problem.
Yay for happy-fun-time-stories!
I did some sound engineering for a jazz trio earlier today. I've worked with two of the three before, and they're all awesome guys. I'm not positive, but I think I might've been requested specifically for this event (which is pretty awesome, and warms my heart). This added pressure to my performance. It had to be spotless.
The first challenge came from the floor, as the staging we used was too small for the full trio. This was very minor, and took five minutes. The second, much greater challenge came from a cool effect. The namesake of the trio is an awesome flautist, and he uses an effect for live performances to get more 'umph' in the sound. The required cables weren't even close to being the same type, and had to go through two adapters to get the XLR and 1/4 inch cable to work together, followed by some futzing with cables.
I'm amazed that "futzing" is actually considered a word in spell check.
Then there were two hours of awesome music.
Then there was two hours of putting things away. Less fun.
Well after all this, on the way home, I had to teach a complete stranger how to do their job. It was almost a bad joke. This worked out well, since I wasn't sure what I wanted to write tonight. Thanks, guy.
A close friend of mine needed gas in the car, and by order of the pump paid ahead of time at the attendant's window. The actual bill came to seven dollars less than the pre-paid amount.
The attendant claimed to not know how to give a refund, because the system had been installed fifteen minutes prior. After a few words (all kind and genuine) I was able to show him how to use the credit refund system. It was nearly identical to one I'd used in a previous job of my own, and after a small amount of trial and error, my friend got their money back.
Initially I thought it might've been greed, until I talked to the kid at the counter. I realized he was a victim of poor leadership, and that his should-be teacher/supervisor had failed him. I smiled politely, gave my friend their copy of the receipt, and we went on our way.
My lesson for the day is to remain patient, no matter how difficult things become. Just because you have a road block doesn't mean that you've an insurmountable obstacle that will crush you if you resist. It just means that you need to do what you can, and if that's what's needed, it will resolve the problem.
Yay for happy-fun-time-stories!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
May a Bookworm Strike Your References!
I do not consider myself an academic, despite my love for learning. I go out of my way to learn anything I can, mostly through study and observation in real life situations. If I want to learn about bugs, I'll go out and watch some. If I want to learn about music, I'll listen and write a bit of it. If I want to study language, I will listen, read, learn ones I am unfamiliar with, and see what patterns and assertions I can produce from it.
I do not consider myself an academic because I focus much more on the field studies than I ever could cross-referencing in books. I believe I should have little interest in what other people have learned in their research until after I perform my own. This is easier for me since I do not generally study dangerous topics. If I were mixing chemicals or studying the territorial habits of hyenas, it would be another situation all together.
While both of those things are awesome, I don't think they'd help me with what I do. I write about everything I see in some way. The disputes of hyenas matter little compared to the way that humans settle disputes. Intellectual debates, politics, and feuds for emotional embrace are resolved quite differently between the species I'd imagine. I couldn't care less how hyenas do it.
I don't consider myself an academic because there are bad habits associated with academia, like quoting and referencing people that are assumed to have been read by anyone else. Especially when used a linchpin for an argument, a conversation should never boil down to "See figure 1." When talking to someone not in the field you discuss, it is like referencing a list of prices for printer ink in 1998 without having the list handy. No one knows what's going on, and 'facts' can be made up at will. Not to say that fabrication of the truth is a common occurrence, or even one to be associated with academia, but parallels can be drawn.
The real problem I have with academia is the attitude associated with it. The professional, clinical, non-biased approach is the way to go with many things, and I dig that. I hate the usual undercurrents of self righteousness and demeaning insults. They are not there for all academic figures, but in many cases they spring up whenever a differing opinion is brought to light with whomever you are talking to. I don't mind admitting defeat when I'm defeated, but I'll be damned if someone will point at a book with a smug, shit eating grin and try to claim victory when they did not earn it. Anyone can read books, given that they've the ability to process written word into the proper morphemes in the mind-brain. Anyone can squirrel themselves away in a library and claim knowledge beyond comprehension.
There's more to an intellectual debate than referencing people that have done it better than you did. This is why I hate academia.
I do not consider myself an academic because I focus much more on the field studies than I ever could cross-referencing in books. I believe I should have little interest in what other people have learned in their research until after I perform my own. This is easier for me since I do not generally study dangerous topics. If I were mixing chemicals or studying the territorial habits of hyenas, it would be another situation all together.
While both of those things are awesome, I don't think they'd help me with what I do. I write about everything I see in some way. The disputes of hyenas matter little compared to the way that humans settle disputes. Intellectual debates, politics, and feuds for emotional embrace are resolved quite differently between the species I'd imagine. I couldn't care less how hyenas do it.
I don't consider myself an academic because there are bad habits associated with academia, like quoting and referencing people that are assumed to have been read by anyone else. Especially when used a linchpin for an argument, a conversation should never boil down to "See figure 1." When talking to someone not in the field you discuss, it is like referencing a list of prices for printer ink in 1998 without having the list handy. No one knows what's going on, and 'facts' can be made up at will. Not to say that fabrication of the truth is a common occurrence, or even one to be associated with academia, but parallels can be drawn.
The real problem I have with academia is the attitude associated with it. The professional, clinical, non-biased approach is the way to go with many things, and I dig that. I hate the usual undercurrents of self righteousness and demeaning insults. They are not there for all academic figures, but in many cases they spring up whenever a differing opinion is brought to light with whomever you are talking to. I don't mind admitting defeat when I'm defeated, but I'll be damned if someone will point at a book with a smug, shit eating grin and try to claim victory when they did not earn it. Anyone can read books, given that they've the ability to process written word into the proper morphemes in the mind-brain. Anyone can squirrel themselves away in a library and claim knowledge beyond comprehension.
There's more to an intellectual debate than referencing people that have done it better than you did. This is why I hate academia.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Nothing.
There were a number of things I could've written about tonight, ranging from the common to the niche as the things common to me may not be to others. I could've wrote about the sudden rash of birthdays happening this time of year, but I suppose they happen all year round and I just never notice. I could've wrote about why relatively uninspired games are so addictive, but that perhaps comes simply from the necessity to alleviate boredom or risk brash stupidity. I could've wrote about the process of writing, but that is perhaps too postmodern for me tonight.
So rather than go into the fantastic detail about the way one selects words for best impact, or the way that Magic: The Gathering - Battlegrounds keeps pulling me back despite terrible controls, or the way that I'm slowly going broke from trying to make my friends feel loved, I will not write about anything.
Most people think of nothingness as the absence of matter and energy. It is, but also included should be the absence of thought and spirit. To believe that the physical world is all that exists is an appealing idea to many, but to me it seems absurd. Thoughts aren't physical, neither are emotions. They can have physical reactions in the owner, but they themselves are not something that you can touch or perceive physically. If you're the sort of person to believe that a god exists, then I suppose that would fall into this category as well. Same with a soul.
With this in mind, one can assume that nothingness might not exist. You can't perceive it, if you were to then you'd negate its existence. The mere action of being in the midst of nothingness fills it with a number of things, from the physical to the thoughts of its existence. You can't prove it exists, because proving it exists would undo its existence.
For this reason, nothingness could never become sentient. Should it ever realize what it was, it would instantly blink out of existence, or transfigure into a new being. Maybe that's how God/the gods/other primal natural force that created all came to be. It was an anomaly that realized it existed. If this thought process has any validity to it at all, it would suggest that God was nothing, but blinked itself into existence on its own.
If so, then what was the spark that pushed sentience? It had to have been something besides sheer will power, as nothingness has no will power. Nothingness has no distinguishing characteristics outside of nothing.
Some would argue then that just because nothingness can't be perceived doesn't mean it isn't there. They might argue that one cannot perceive the air, or the chemical reactions that make up a bottle of fizzy-pop (I just love that word). This is not true, as all physical and metaphysical things have an impact on the world around them, and can be known in this way. The gradual shift in my house's foundation will eventually sink it into the ground, but in the meantime it produces squeaks, knocks doors off of alignment, and a number of other things. The bacteria in the air could eventually try to colonize in my lungs, and produce an infection. Everything has an effect on everything else.
Then one could argue that we are nothingness' effect on the rest of the universe, in some backwards sort of way. This could be argued quite easily, but is disproven in the fact that if there is a rest of the universe, then nothingness isn't there. The fact that we are not part of nothingness makes us there, and in this way gives a relationship to nothingness. It shows that we are not nothing.
So when you feel depressed that nothing is going as you planned it to, you can take solice in the fact that you perhaps are going as nothing planned too.
So rather than go into the fantastic detail about the way one selects words for best impact, or the way that Magic: The Gathering - Battlegrounds keeps pulling me back despite terrible controls, or the way that I'm slowly going broke from trying to make my friends feel loved, I will not write about anything.
Most people think of nothingness as the absence of matter and energy. It is, but also included should be the absence of thought and spirit. To believe that the physical world is all that exists is an appealing idea to many, but to me it seems absurd. Thoughts aren't physical, neither are emotions. They can have physical reactions in the owner, but they themselves are not something that you can touch or perceive physically. If you're the sort of person to believe that a god exists, then I suppose that would fall into this category as well. Same with a soul.
With this in mind, one can assume that nothingness might not exist. You can't perceive it, if you were to then you'd negate its existence. The mere action of being in the midst of nothingness fills it with a number of things, from the physical to the thoughts of its existence. You can't prove it exists, because proving it exists would undo its existence.
For this reason, nothingness could never become sentient. Should it ever realize what it was, it would instantly blink out of existence, or transfigure into a new being. Maybe that's how God/the gods/other primal natural force that created all came to be. It was an anomaly that realized it existed. If this thought process has any validity to it at all, it would suggest that God was nothing, but blinked itself into existence on its own.
If so, then what was the spark that pushed sentience? It had to have been something besides sheer will power, as nothingness has no will power. Nothingness has no distinguishing characteristics outside of nothing.
Some would argue then that just because nothingness can't be perceived doesn't mean it isn't there. They might argue that one cannot perceive the air, or the chemical reactions that make up a bottle of fizzy-pop (I just love that word). This is not true, as all physical and metaphysical things have an impact on the world around them, and can be known in this way. The gradual shift in my house's foundation will eventually sink it into the ground, but in the meantime it produces squeaks, knocks doors off of alignment, and a number of other things. The bacteria in the air could eventually try to colonize in my lungs, and produce an infection. Everything has an effect on everything else.
Then one could argue that we are nothingness' effect on the rest of the universe, in some backwards sort of way. This could be argued quite easily, but is disproven in the fact that if there is a rest of the universe, then nothingness isn't there. The fact that we are not part of nothingness makes us there, and in this way gives a relationship to nothingness. It shows that we are not nothing.
So when you feel depressed that nothing is going as you planned it to, you can take solice in the fact that you perhaps are going as nothing planned too.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Digital killed the Analog (Star?)
I was going to write a filler list of discographies I own (literally, on disk), but I realized just now that it's been a long time since I really got much new music on disk. I'm very close to having discographies for many bands, but fall one or two albums short (usually if it came out in the last three years). It's possible/probable that this is because of the decline of compact disk and the rise of the MP3 (which is terrible, actually. More on this later), but I think realistically it's a decline in my funds and the rise of college tuition.
Assuming that it is actually a media problem, then I have a number of issues with MP3s as a format. To be completely frank about it, MP3s are expensive and transient. They exist only as long as your computer doesn't crash and your mobile device doesn't decide to Hara Kiri. They can be backed up on disk, but most people don't bother. I've heard so many times (and even when I was younger experienced) a crash that wiped music libraries clean. In some cases this means repurchasing hundreds of dollars of music. Some services offer ways to get the music back through licenses and whatnot, but that also means it's something that must be done entirely digitally.
I'm always going to be an advocate for hard copies of everything, I'm the kind of person that backs up everything. I have print copies of everything I've ever written academically (except some of the blog entries on here, ironically), no eBooks, print copies of any recent art I've made (the old stuff was also destroyed in said crash), and other things that fall in these lines. I'm not saying that digital copies of everything aren't useful. They're pretty awesome too. I haven't used a CD player for my portable music in years. I still have a stereo with a CD player and a dual tape deck attached that I use frequently, but that's mostly for plugging the Zune dock into it and letting it play that way. I'd be a liar if I said that I'm against MP3s as a format, or any other electronic audio file. That's how I write/record my music these days.
I do, however, feel that there should be a rise in another physical medium of some kind. If not the CD (though it's still better quality than most MP3's, M4A, ACC, and pretty much anything besides a very high quality WAV), then some other thing. Video's jumped from the casette to the DVD to the BluRay in the CD's lifespan thus far. It's probably time for an update.
This has gotten very off topic and really only outlines my paranoia now. Oh well.
Assuming that it is actually a media problem, then I have a number of issues with MP3s as a format. To be completely frank about it, MP3s are expensive and transient. They exist only as long as your computer doesn't crash and your mobile device doesn't decide to Hara Kiri. They can be backed up on disk, but most people don't bother. I've heard so many times (and even when I was younger experienced) a crash that wiped music libraries clean. In some cases this means repurchasing hundreds of dollars of music. Some services offer ways to get the music back through licenses and whatnot, but that also means it's something that must be done entirely digitally.
I'm always going to be an advocate for hard copies of everything, I'm the kind of person that backs up everything. I have print copies of everything I've ever written academically (except some of the blog entries on here, ironically), no eBooks, print copies of any recent art I've made (the old stuff was also destroyed in said crash), and other things that fall in these lines. I'm not saying that digital copies of everything aren't useful. They're pretty awesome too. I haven't used a CD player for my portable music in years. I still have a stereo with a CD player and a dual tape deck attached that I use frequently, but that's mostly for plugging the Zune dock into it and letting it play that way. I'd be a liar if I said that I'm against MP3s as a format, or any other electronic audio file. That's how I write/record my music these days.
I do, however, feel that there should be a rise in another physical medium of some kind. If not the CD (though it's still better quality than most MP3's, M4A, ACC, and pretty much anything besides a very high quality WAV), then some other thing. Video's jumped from the casette to the DVD to the BluRay in the CD's lifespan thus far. It's probably time for an update.
This has gotten very off topic and really only outlines my paranoia now. Oh well.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Nature of Attraction
Before I go into this topic, there's something very important to note. Attraction and love are not the same thing. This will not explain love in any way, so don't look for it here. It will explain from my point of view why people fall for people who will not treat them right, and why it's sometimes easier to just move on right away to a new person.
Someone I know recently went through a minor (though to them it seemed major) ordeal over a potential lover (referenced now as "Edgar".) Condensed, Edgar found someone else with most of the same qualities that they had found in my friend, and moved on after a long wait. Edgar wasn't in the wrong, really, because of circumstances that don't need to be brought up. Edgar did however raise an interesting point that I'd acknowledged for a long time, but never put to words. We aren't interested as much in a person as we are the things about them.
"Oh Andrew, if a person is made of things then you're interested in the person. How silly of you!" some would counter. Sure asshole, that's like saying that you can breathe water just because it has oxygen in it.
Example: guy A (Albus) has met girl B (Blair) and has fallen in love and lust (in reverse order) with. He loves that she's witty, and enjoys Shakespeare discussions with him. He knows he likes girls that are shorter than him, and a little wild sometimes. Blair likes guys that are taller than her, intelligent, and practical in their outlook on life. She also has a thing for long hair.
Blair meets most of Albus' list, except that the extent of her wild streak cuts off with the occasional sexual reference. Albus meets enough of Blair's list to be acceptable, but not really a preference. He lacks long hair, and his world view is more free spirited than she's capable of handling. The later is huge, and immediately she has less interest than he could ever have in her.
Albus meets girl C (Clara) and easily brushes off the "loss" of Blair from his mind, since she has all of these things that he's interested in as well. Clara is also interested in him, but because her preferences lean towards his height, short hair, and the fun view of life. She is equally comparable for him, as she has the same things as Blair without being the same person. All other things are important, but not the "must have" list. It doesn't matter that Blair listened to rap while Clara is a fan of country and light pop music. It doesn't matter what the cup size of either was, since that's not a preference on his list either. They are not the same person, but some of the same traits are there.
We draw from this overly simplified example the conclusion that not all people are really snowflakes, as much as checklists when it comes to attraction. Most people are so deep into their lists that they've set impossible placements for themselves, meaning that in some sense they've adopted the "One person in the world for me" outlook. With the population of the Earth right now, they're statistically never going to find that person.
In contrast to this example however, negative traits can sometimes find themselves on the checklist too.
Guy D (Donnie) has had three girlfriends. The first was absolutely amazing for him, and met everything he'd ever look for in a woman (incidentally, the first will almost always set the core list for every person after). She on top of all these things was also schizophrenic and bipolar. Because of all the other traits she has, he learns to adapt and deal with these problems.
His second girlfriend has fewer of the traits, but the schizophrenia is also there.
The third girlfriend has more traits than the second, but is bipolar and also suffers from ADHD.
By the time that Donnie is looking for a girlfriend and has to choose between Elanor (who meets all on his list of positive traits) and Florence (who meets all but one of the positive traits, but has schizophrenia and ADHD), he's more likely to pick Florence, despite her being bat-shit crazy and likely to destroy the relationship.
There are other issues that can factor into it too, but I don't really believe in Freud. While many of his arguments have validity, the vast majority seem to state that he just wanted to fuck his mom. I find that most people don't want their opposing gender parent as a lover, based on conversations. Most seem to want the polar opposite, actually. Without speaking too heavily from personal experiences, it seems that the kind of relationship we have with our parents will determine if we're all Oedipus incarnate or if we actually do procreate for the strength of the species.
This gets more complicated as you look at real people. If Georgette wants all of the following things in a potential lover, it becomes more difficult (barely possible) to find the "ideal."
Woman
Intelligent
C-DD cup size
Shorter
Long, dark hair
Glasses
120-160 lbs
Highly flexible
Central Asian cultural background
Conservative leaning centrist views politically
Interest in action movies
Interest in Crime Dramas
Interest in Star Wars
Interest in Swing music
Interest in James Joyce
Knowledge of French language
A nervous tick of biting nails down to the cuticle
This list is still abridged compared to reality, but already it gets much more difficult to find a person that meets this criteria. When factoring geography in (assuming that Georgette lives in New York) it can get very difficult to find someone that fits her criteria. Then, assuming that this person is found, the chances are equally slim of meeting this person's own list as the "ideal."
That's why people will "settle," which is not the true term. The "ideal" is nearly impossible to attain. We find people who are best suited for us, and we hope that love takes root and makes the checks on the list work the way they should.
This doesn't mean that all people ultimately find someone less compatible for them than possible. Technically it does, but I retort with "Fuck you, pessimist." When you find someone that you are capable of loving, it doesn't matter what else was left.
I'm sure I'm forgetting points I wanted to make, but it's late and I'm tired.
Someone I know recently went through a minor (though to them it seemed major) ordeal over a potential lover (referenced now as "Edgar".) Condensed, Edgar found someone else with most of the same qualities that they had found in my friend, and moved on after a long wait. Edgar wasn't in the wrong, really, because of circumstances that don't need to be brought up. Edgar did however raise an interesting point that I'd acknowledged for a long time, but never put to words. We aren't interested as much in a person as we are the things about them.
"Oh Andrew, if a person is made of things then you're interested in the person. How silly of you!" some would counter. Sure asshole, that's like saying that you can breathe water just because it has oxygen in it.
Example: guy A (Albus) has met girl B (Blair) and has fallen in love and lust (in reverse order) with. He loves that she's witty, and enjoys Shakespeare discussions with him. He knows he likes girls that are shorter than him, and a little wild sometimes. Blair likes guys that are taller than her, intelligent, and practical in their outlook on life. She also has a thing for long hair.
Blair meets most of Albus' list, except that the extent of her wild streak cuts off with the occasional sexual reference. Albus meets enough of Blair's list to be acceptable, but not really a preference. He lacks long hair, and his world view is more free spirited than she's capable of handling. The later is huge, and immediately she has less interest than he could ever have in her.
Albus meets girl C (Clara) and easily brushes off the "loss" of Blair from his mind, since she has all of these things that he's interested in as well. Clara is also interested in him, but because her preferences lean towards his height, short hair, and the fun view of life. She is equally comparable for him, as she has the same things as Blair without being the same person. All other things are important, but not the "must have" list. It doesn't matter that Blair listened to rap while Clara is a fan of country and light pop music. It doesn't matter what the cup size of either was, since that's not a preference on his list either. They are not the same person, but some of the same traits are there.
We draw from this overly simplified example the conclusion that not all people are really snowflakes, as much as checklists when it comes to attraction. Most people are so deep into their lists that they've set impossible placements for themselves, meaning that in some sense they've adopted the "One person in the world for me" outlook. With the population of the Earth right now, they're statistically never going to find that person.
In contrast to this example however, negative traits can sometimes find themselves on the checklist too.
Guy D (Donnie) has had three girlfriends. The first was absolutely amazing for him, and met everything he'd ever look for in a woman (incidentally, the first will almost always set the core list for every person after). She on top of all these things was also schizophrenic and bipolar. Because of all the other traits she has, he learns to adapt and deal with these problems.
His second girlfriend has fewer of the traits, but the schizophrenia is also there.
The third girlfriend has more traits than the second, but is bipolar and also suffers from ADHD.
By the time that Donnie is looking for a girlfriend and has to choose between Elanor (who meets all on his list of positive traits) and Florence (who meets all but one of the positive traits, but has schizophrenia and ADHD), he's more likely to pick Florence, despite her being bat-shit crazy and likely to destroy the relationship.
There are other issues that can factor into it too, but I don't really believe in Freud. While many of his arguments have validity, the vast majority seem to state that he just wanted to fuck his mom. I find that most people don't want their opposing gender parent as a lover, based on conversations. Most seem to want the polar opposite, actually. Without speaking too heavily from personal experiences, it seems that the kind of relationship we have with our parents will determine if we're all Oedipus incarnate or if we actually do procreate for the strength of the species.
This gets more complicated as you look at real people. If Georgette wants all of the following things in a potential lover, it becomes more difficult (barely possible) to find the "ideal."
Woman
Intelligent
C-DD cup size
Shorter
Long, dark hair
Glasses
120-160 lbs
Highly flexible
Central Asian cultural background
Conservative leaning centrist views politically
Interest in action movies
Interest in Crime Dramas
Interest in Star Wars
Interest in Swing music
Interest in James Joyce
Knowledge of French language
A nervous tick of biting nails down to the cuticle
This list is still abridged compared to reality, but already it gets much more difficult to find a person that meets this criteria. When factoring geography in (assuming that Georgette lives in New York) it can get very difficult to find someone that fits her criteria. Then, assuming that this person is found, the chances are equally slim of meeting this person's own list as the "ideal."
That's why people will "settle," which is not the true term. The "ideal" is nearly impossible to attain. We find people who are best suited for us, and we hope that love takes root and makes the checks on the list work the way they should.
This doesn't mean that all people ultimately find someone less compatible for them than possible. Technically it does, but I retort with "Fuck you, pessimist." When you find someone that you are capable of loving, it doesn't matter what else was left.
I'm sure I'm forgetting points I wanted to make, but it's late and I'm tired.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Interactive Art?
Don't mind me, I'm on a video game kick of late.
Whether or not video game design is considered an art form has been debated many times over by geeks like me, and I still hold that in some cases it might be. Ultimately as a whole video games cannot be considered an art, no matter how artistic some are, but in time certain franchises (occasionally from the start) become works of art in the design, rather than just the visual representations they have. Unfortunately it's very difficult to determine which games fall into this category, since most exist solely to make money. In other cases, game franchises that previously held artistic integrity may have lost it as it became a franchise, rather than just a game.
Katamari Damacy (only the first, and maybe the second, We <3 Katamari) is an example of an art game, as the entire game was an experimental statement about consumerism. The game play is essentially rolling up a snowman with two analog sticks. The concept was probably written in an acid trip, and the soundtrack was a very varied electronica-cumshot that was mostly loosely self referential. The visuals were made boxy and overly simplified, almost like Lego mockeries of reality.
The short of the story is that your father is God, who gets drunk one night and smashes all the stars in the sky. As his son, you need to fix it while he belittles you. You do this with the help of a spherical self contained quantum singularity. This mini-black hole will cling to any object smaller than itself, growing bigger while you push it around the earth. Once it's big enough, your father turns it into a star.
As the series went on, it seemed like it was making more fun of itself. In the second game your father realizes the popularity of the first game, and forces you to keep rolling shit up into your gravity-ball so he can keep his fan base. This would've been a fitting end to the series, since the game was better designed than the first. It also featured a long time endurance level, in which you need to roll up one million roses.
The series didn't stop. No more were made for the PS2, but instead ported to many other systems that could better handle the visuals. Why? Namco got greedy. Beautiful Katamari (Xbox 360), Katamari Forever (PS3), Me and My Katamari (PSP), I Love Katamari (iShit), and an only loosely related Tetris-like game has been released for the DSi in Japan rounds out the list of other games in this series. This franchise has only been out since 2004. 7 games in 6 years. From a game that was supposed to be a stand alone. It's become a parody of it's original message.
I don't love the franchise any less now, but it is no longer art.
In contrast, the Nintendo DSi Art Style series might actually fall into the category it's named after, or at least Art Style: Aquia does.
Art Style is a series of puzzle games built to milk the DSi for it's crisp visuals and simple design, and each game is a $5.00 download. There are seven now, making it a $35.00 series to own. I haven't played them all, or even most of them. Aquia is the only one I own, but the game was worth the download.
Aquia places you as a diver going deep under water to discover new breeds of fish. As you do so, you fight off the darkness inherent in deep sea diving and try not to black out from lack of oxygen. You keep this diver alive by moving colored squares into lines of 3 or more with a slider. This slider only moves from left to right. If you clear more than one line in a chain reaction, you get more air. If you don't clear lines fast enough, your screen transitions to black and you lose.
At first, the music is supplied by your slider and actions. All movements in each level are tied to a set key, and give random sounds in that key as you clear your lines. As you dive deeper the level music raises in volume, and by the end you can hear some pretty thumpin' tunes from each level of difficulty. All sound cuts out as you get closer to death as well, replaced by an ominous beep that happens between silence.
What's nice about the Art Style series is that none of the games are related outside of production house and name. Every game in this series is made to have nothing to do with one another, from game play to audio to rewards. Each represents itself.
What makes this (possibly) art is the level of simplicity that exists in such an avant garde exterior. It's layered enough to care about if you're the kind of geek that likes to analyze puzzle games (like me), but simple enough where you won't need to. It's addictive enough to eat hours harmlessly, but not in the harmful way like World of Warcraft or any strategy game.
This was going to be a list, but I don't really have time to give this kind of detail to everything I'd want to list. Here's one anyway, I might reference it again down the line.
Katamari Damacy
Art Style: Aquia
The Sims
Portal
Postal
Tetris
LSD (that's what the game was actually called)
Final Fantasy X
An honorable mention is Little Big Planet. In itself it is not art, though it is very artistic. It's beautiful, and the music is wonderful, but stripped away it's just a customizable platformer.
Whether or not video game design is considered an art form has been debated many times over by geeks like me, and I still hold that in some cases it might be. Ultimately as a whole video games cannot be considered an art, no matter how artistic some are, but in time certain franchises (occasionally from the start) become works of art in the design, rather than just the visual representations they have. Unfortunately it's very difficult to determine which games fall into this category, since most exist solely to make money. In other cases, game franchises that previously held artistic integrity may have lost it as it became a franchise, rather than just a game.
Katamari Damacy (only the first, and maybe the second, We <3 Katamari) is an example of an art game, as the entire game was an experimental statement about consumerism. The game play is essentially rolling up a snowman with two analog sticks. The concept was probably written in an acid trip, and the soundtrack was a very varied electronica-cumshot that was mostly loosely self referential. The visuals were made boxy and overly simplified, almost like Lego mockeries of reality.
The short of the story is that your father is God, who gets drunk one night and smashes all the stars in the sky. As his son, you need to fix it while he belittles you. You do this with the help of a spherical self contained quantum singularity. This mini-black hole will cling to any object smaller than itself, growing bigger while you push it around the earth. Once it's big enough, your father turns it into a star.
As the series went on, it seemed like it was making more fun of itself. In the second game your father realizes the popularity of the first game, and forces you to keep rolling shit up into your gravity-ball so he can keep his fan base. This would've been a fitting end to the series, since the game was better designed than the first. It also featured a long time endurance level, in which you need to roll up one million roses.
The series didn't stop. No more were made for the PS2, but instead ported to many other systems that could better handle the visuals. Why? Namco got greedy. Beautiful Katamari (Xbox 360), Katamari Forever (PS3), Me and My Katamari (PSP), I Love Katamari (iShit), and an only loosely related Tetris-like game has been released for the DSi in Japan rounds out the list of other games in this series. This franchise has only been out since 2004. 7 games in 6 years. From a game that was supposed to be a stand alone. It's become a parody of it's original message.
I don't love the franchise any less now, but it is no longer art.
In contrast, the Nintendo DSi Art Style series might actually fall into the category it's named after, or at least Art Style: Aquia does.
Art Style is a series of puzzle games built to milk the DSi for it's crisp visuals and simple design, and each game is a $5.00 download. There are seven now, making it a $35.00 series to own. I haven't played them all, or even most of them. Aquia is the only one I own, but the game was worth the download.
Aquia places you as a diver going deep under water to discover new breeds of fish. As you do so, you fight off the darkness inherent in deep sea diving and try not to black out from lack of oxygen. You keep this diver alive by moving colored squares into lines of 3 or more with a slider. This slider only moves from left to right. If you clear more than one line in a chain reaction, you get more air. If you don't clear lines fast enough, your screen transitions to black and you lose.
At first, the music is supplied by your slider and actions. All movements in each level are tied to a set key, and give random sounds in that key as you clear your lines. As you dive deeper the level music raises in volume, and by the end you can hear some pretty thumpin' tunes from each level of difficulty. All sound cuts out as you get closer to death as well, replaced by an ominous beep that happens between silence.
What's nice about the Art Style series is that none of the games are related outside of production house and name. Every game in this series is made to have nothing to do with one another, from game play to audio to rewards. Each represents itself.
What makes this (possibly) art is the level of simplicity that exists in such an avant garde exterior. It's layered enough to care about if you're the kind of geek that likes to analyze puzzle games (like me), but simple enough where you won't need to. It's addictive enough to eat hours harmlessly, but not in the harmful way like World of Warcraft or any strategy game.
This was going to be a list, but I don't really have time to give this kind of detail to everything I'd want to list. Here's one anyway, I might reference it again down the line.
Katamari Damacy
Art Style: Aquia
The Sims
Portal
Postal
Tetris
LSD (that's what the game was actually called)
Final Fantasy X
An honorable mention is Little Big Planet. In itself it is not art, though it is very artistic. It's beautiful, and the music is wonderful, but stripped away it's just a customizable platformer.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Sackboy just shot Master Chief in the face.
I am bothered by the current state of video game design. This isn't anything important or life changing, but it does bother me as it is a representation of the number one entertainment industry (and still fastest growing) in the United States.
In years prior, there was to a limited extent diversity among games. One was just as likely to find an original action/adventure game on the shelves as they were a fighter, shooter, puzzle, or role playing game (RPG). This was a cross-system boon, and it made gaming more rich for it. With current gaming consoles, it seems that a huge divide exists between which consoles have which kinds of games.
As a child of the 90's that grew up with Genesis, Playstation, and PC games, I played a lot of action/adventure platform games. These were generally games that told a mostly linear story in which a character has to get from point A to point B. Said character will have a set of skills that they will use to overcome these obstacles, occasionally a few new ones will be given as the game goes on. Some were 3D from a third person prospective, some were 2D from a side view. All were fun.
I played others too, particularly on the PC. I wasted many, many hours of my life playing StarCraft and WarCraft, back when Blizzard had better things to do than push digital crack to a helpless population. Civilization II ate large bits of my free time as well, and all were amazing games. They put the player in a position where they need to work out a unique way to pass each scenario. While strategy guides exist, most are terrible. You, as the player, have to think more deeply.
I had RPGs I loved (mostly Final Fantasy and Pokemon games), some terrible fighters (Star Wars made a fighting game once. It was quite uninspired, and while it was bad, it was amazing for it. Mortal Kombat eventually turned into something similar), and lastly there were First Person Shooters.
I liked FPS' the least, and still do. I played GoldenEye on the Nintendo 64 at a friend's when I was young, and I owned a few of the old ID games (Doom II, Quake). I had a lot of these back then, but they were all PC games, and most were too terrible for serious play. Redneck Rampage was the most creative of them at the time, when you play a hick who gets drunk to shoot better and eats pork rinds to walk straight... fighting aliens. With machine guns built into breasts. The game was beyond fucked.
Games are still a big part of my life, but I don't personally own any of the current consoles. My brother has a Wii, my girlfriend has a PS3 now too, and one of the places I work uses all three current consoles extensively, but none personally. This is because I generally don't like FPS'.
Particularly for the PS3 (the technically best, most useful, and most stable of the three major consoles), most of the noteworthy games are either cross-system releases or first person shooters. With what the system is capable of, more should be done that doesn't involve pointing a gun at someone and jumping behind a rock so they can't do the same. The thing that saves it for me is Little Big Planet, which is possibly the best, most creative platformer that I've ever seen. I know it's a year or so old, but that doesn't change the fact that Sony seems to have focused too much on blood.
Microsoft is worse, but their system is prone to killing itself. The 360 probably knows it's only a box for people to release their bloody fetishes through and snaps after a while. I can't blame them for red rings.
The Wii (the technically weakest) system in the bunch has the best games right now, because Nintendo knows that if people love them, they'll keep giving them money. It's a good business practice, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't love them for it. Right now they're fixing my DSi for free under warranty. The games, however, are only notable because they aren't a constant barrage of bullets. The only official Nintendo FPS isn't even this mostly, as it focuses on situational puzzle solving rather than killing space-Nazis or zombies. Even then, Metroid didn't start out this way. It adapted in a way that Nintendo hoped would keep the fledgling FPS players endeared.
I can't say that most modern FPS' are bad either, which annoys me more. I can't even bash them, because Left 4 Dead and Borderlands are too good for me to put down. Portal might be the best game ever made. Even fucking Halo (first only) is a great game. How can I bash these things?
For the most part, because they're not creative. Few innovate heavily on anything, most regurgitate with minor tweaks that will be stolen and done better in the future by another game. At least with Little Big Planet they took an already bloated genre from the past and stripped it down to a character that's literally made of a burlap sack who can only really run, jump, and pull things. There's other stuff that happens as you go too, but in essence, Sackboy is the most basic character you can have.
Some fanboys will be angry at me for this, and point out all the games I've ignored to make my point. Sure, Metal Gear Solid 4 is the best rated PS3 game. It's an awesome movie. Street Fighter IV is also out and golden. That's awesome if you dig antiquated fighting systems that should've been done away with when Bushido Blade introduced the "You get stabbed in the neck, you die," mechanic rather than a life bar, back in 1998. Final Fantasy XIII and Kingdom Hearts III will soon be out for the PS3 too. JRPG's aren't everyone's bag (see Ben "Yahtzee" Croshaw).
I want to upgrade, badly. But without the ability to play all the old PS2 games, there's no point. I would buy a system for a small handful of games and online rehashes of games better than all the new FPS'.
Little Big Planet
Katamari Forever
Metal Gear Solid 4
Final Fantasy XIII
Borderlands
Arkham Asylum
Dante's Inferno
Demon's Souls (maybe)
Rock Band
Little Big Planet alone might be enough to sell me a system down the line if I ever decide, or when I have no choice but to switch to Blue-Ray. But after three years, I'd hoped there'd be more. Maybe a Spyro game that didn't suck, or something that innovates as much as Little Big Planet and Katamari Damacy did when they came out. Give me a new Bushido Blade. Something less stale than most of the "Point and Shoot" pieces of shit.
In years prior, there was to a limited extent diversity among games. One was just as likely to find an original action/adventure game on the shelves as they were a fighter, shooter, puzzle, or role playing game (RPG). This was a cross-system boon, and it made gaming more rich for it. With current gaming consoles, it seems that a huge divide exists between which consoles have which kinds of games.
As a child of the 90's that grew up with Genesis, Playstation, and PC games, I played a lot of action/adventure platform games. These were generally games that told a mostly linear story in which a character has to get from point A to point B. Said character will have a set of skills that they will use to overcome these obstacles, occasionally a few new ones will be given as the game goes on. Some were 3D from a third person prospective, some were 2D from a side view. All were fun.
I played others too, particularly on the PC. I wasted many, many hours of my life playing StarCraft and WarCraft, back when Blizzard had better things to do than push digital crack to a helpless population. Civilization II ate large bits of my free time as well, and all were amazing games. They put the player in a position where they need to work out a unique way to pass each scenario. While strategy guides exist, most are terrible. You, as the player, have to think more deeply.
I had RPGs I loved (mostly Final Fantasy and Pokemon games), some terrible fighters (Star Wars made a fighting game once. It was quite uninspired, and while it was bad, it was amazing for it. Mortal Kombat eventually turned into something similar), and lastly there were First Person Shooters.
I liked FPS' the least, and still do. I played GoldenEye on the Nintendo 64 at a friend's when I was young, and I owned a few of the old ID games (Doom II, Quake). I had a lot of these back then, but they were all PC games, and most were too terrible for serious play. Redneck Rampage was the most creative of them at the time, when you play a hick who gets drunk to shoot better and eats pork rinds to walk straight... fighting aliens. With machine guns built into breasts. The game was beyond fucked.
Games are still a big part of my life, but I don't personally own any of the current consoles. My brother has a Wii, my girlfriend has a PS3 now too, and one of the places I work uses all three current consoles extensively, but none personally. This is because I generally don't like FPS'.
Particularly for the PS3 (the technically best, most useful, and most stable of the three major consoles), most of the noteworthy games are either cross-system releases or first person shooters. With what the system is capable of, more should be done that doesn't involve pointing a gun at someone and jumping behind a rock so they can't do the same. The thing that saves it for me is Little Big Planet, which is possibly the best, most creative platformer that I've ever seen. I know it's a year or so old, but that doesn't change the fact that Sony seems to have focused too much on blood.
Microsoft is worse, but their system is prone to killing itself. The 360 probably knows it's only a box for people to release their bloody fetishes through and snaps after a while. I can't blame them for red rings.
The Wii (the technically weakest) system in the bunch has the best games right now, because Nintendo knows that if people love them, they'll keep giving them money. It's a good business practice, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't love them for it. Right now they're fixing my DSi for free under warranty. The games, however, are only notable because they aren't a constant barrage of bullets. The only official Nintendo FPS isn't even this mostly, as it focuses on situational puzzle solving rather than killing space-Nazis or zombies. Even then, Metroid didn't start out this way. It adapted in a way that Nintendo hoped would keep the fledgling FPS players endeared.
I can't say that most modern FPS' are bad either, which annoys me more. I can't even bash them, because Left 4 Dead and Borderlands are too good for me to put down. Portal might be the best game ever made. Even fucking Halo (first only) is a great game. How can I bash these things?
For the most part, because they're not creative. Few innovate heavily on anything, most regurgitate with minor tweaks that will be stolen and done better in the future by another game. At least with Little Big Planet they took an already bloated genre from the past and stripped it down to a character that's literally made of a burlap sack who can only really run, jump, and pull things. There's other stuff that happens as you go too, but in essence, Sackboy is the most basic character you can have.
Some fanboys will be angry at me for this, and point out all the games I've ignored to make my point. Sure, Metal Gear Solid 4 is the best rated PS3 game. It's an awesome movie. Street Fighter IV is also out and golden. That's awesome if you dig antiquated fighting systems that should've been done away with when Bushido Blade introduced the "You get stabbed in the neck, you die," mechanic rather than a life bar, back in 1998. Final Fantasy XIII and Kingdom Hearts III will soon be out for the PS3 too. JRPG's aren't everyone's bag (see Ben "Yahtzee" Croshaw).
I want to upgrade, badly. But without the ability to play all the old PS2 games, there's no point. I would buy a system for a small handful of games and online rehashes of games better than all the new FPS'.
Little Big Planet
Katamari Forever
Metal Gear Solid 4
Final Fantasy XIII
Borderlands
Arkham Asylum
Dante's Inferno
Demon's Souls (maybe)
Rock Band
Little Big Planet alone might be enough to sell me a system down the line if I ever decide, or when I have no choice but to switch to Blue-Ray. But after three years, I'd hoped there'd be more. Maybe a Spyro game that didn't suck, or something that innovates as much as Little Big Planet and Katamari Damacy did when they came out. Give me a new Bushido Blade. Something less stale than most of the "Point and Shoot" pieces of shit.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
The struggle goes on, even when you're not there.
I've had "Collapse (Post Amerika)" by Rise Against stuck in my head all day. It's an awesome song, so I don't especially mind. It speaks volumes about my daily life these days as well.
I've never considered myself an activist, or even all that politically oriented. I've always had beliefs, but I never really had to fight to defend them. Up until relatively recently, none of the events around me effected me in the way they have been now. So now, after almost 24 years of life, I'm finally in a position to fight for it.
I'm a Boy Scout, or rather, I was one. Now I'm a scout leader, an adult volunteer. One of my brothers is still involved, and I was in from six years old to now. I used to work at a camp as a teacher, and summers at Aquehonga were all that I looked forward to when I was young. The 'greater' New York Council (GNYC) realized that they had issues (financial and otherwise) and decided the best way to fix these problems was to sell one of the three camps they own. Rather than selling Alpine, which is in Alpine, New Jersey and bleeds money compared to the others, the infinite wisdom of GNYC is to sell William H. Pouch Camp.
Pouch Camp is on Staten Island, making it the only boy scout camp in New York City. It's beautiful and enormous, situated just outside of a school but far enough removed to feel natural still. For this reason, the property is delicious for housing developers to consume.
Why is this camp - the only one that is actually making more money than the cost to operate - the option for sales? Partially for the size of the property. Partially because so much money has been poured into Cub World (as Alpine is called) that they cannot admit what a bad idea it was. Partially because people in business suits have no place in scouting if they have never been one themselves.
If something must be sold, then it should be Cub World. It's a veritable amusement park for cub scouts, with a giant wooden pirate ship, a fake mine, a fort, and a large pool. Why the hell are all these things needed, what do they have to do with scouting? Nothing, except for the pool. Even then, a lake will suffice just as well.
I've been trying to watch my tongue, especially since this is in relation to scouting. So I won't say what I think about most of the gentlemen in GNYC. I won't voice what I want them to do to themselves, nor will I say where they should place the current proposal. I'll be peaceful, and say that they should consider reducing their paychecks before crying broke. They should try more fund raisers. They should give up the lease on the office space in the Empire State building (fourth floor), and work in a scouting environment instead. I don't want these maggots anywhere near my camp, but if giving them an office there instead of losing it all together makes it happen, then I'll tolerate it.
GNYC, in the spirit of Rise Against - a band that wants peace, but knows they can only do so much - I want you to know that I'll be here with every other scouter on this island. Every other in the city. In the state. We all watch you, you only exist because of us. Don't sell off our camp. It isn't in scouting's spirit. It isn't right, and you know it.
I've never considered myself an activist, or even all that politically oriented. I've always had beliefs, but I never really had to fight to defend them. Up until relatively recently, none of the events around me effected me in the way they have been now. So now, after almost 24 years of life, I'm finally in a position to fight for it.
I'm a Boy Scout, or rather, I was one. Now I'm a scout leader, an adult volunteer. One of my brothers is still involved, and I was in from six years old to now. I used to work at a camp as a teacher, and summers at Aquehonga were all that I looked forward to when I was young. The 'greater' New York Council (GNYC) realized that they had issues (financial and otherwise) and decided the best way to fix these problems was to sell one of the three camps they own. Rather than selling Alpine, which is in Alpine, New Jersey and bleeds money compared to the others, the infinite wisdom of GNYC is to sell William H. Pouch Camp.
Pouch Camp is on Staten Island, making it the only boy scout camp in New York City. It's beautiful and enormous, situated just outside of a school but far enough removed to feel natural still. For this reason, the property is delicious for housing developers to consume.
Why is this camp - the only one that is actually making more money than the cost to operate - the option for sales? Partially for the size of the property. Partially because so much money has been poured into Cub World (as Alpine is called) that they cannot admit what a bad idea it was. Partially because people in business suits have no place in scouting if they have never been one themselves.
If something must be sold, then it should be Cub World. It's a veritable amusement park for cub scouts, with a giant wooden pirate ship, a fake mine, a fort, and a large pool. Why the hell are all these things needed, what do they have to do with scouting? Nothing, except for the pool. Even then, a lake will suffice just as well.
I've been trying to watch my tongue, especially since this is in relation to scouting. So I won't say what I think about most of the gentlemen in GNYC. I won't voice what I want them to do to themselves, nor will I say where they should place the current proposal. I'll be peaceful, and say that they should consider reducing their paychecks before crying broke. They should try more fund raisers. They should give up the lease on the office space in the Empire State building (fourth floor), and work in a scouting environment instead. I don't want these maggots anywhere near my camp, but if giving them an office there instead of losing it all together makes it happen, then I'll tolerate it.
GNYC, in the spirit of Rise Against - a band that wants peace, but knows they can only do so much - I want you to know that I'll be here with every other scouter on this island. Every other in the city. In the state. We all watch you, you only exist because of us. Don't sell off our camp. It isn't in scouting's spirit. It isn't right, and you know it.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Three days? Oh noes!
Writer’s block is a bitch. Common knowledge. This particular bitch is also raging and hormonal at the moment, thus making life difficult.
I haven’t been around for a few days, mostly due to school work. There isn’t all that much of it left, but what’s there is enough to keep me away from this blog. To an extent, I’ve had topics for this in mind, but generally this past week has been about finals and closing projects for my last real term as an undergraduate. All that stands between me and a diploma is a final in Chinese Civilization, a reasonably short portfolio of poems, and a few months of downtime.
Why am I not graduating in January? The administration and internal workings of my institution are terrible. Most of my classmates, colleagues, and peers have discussed this to a huge extent, I don’t really need to talk about it. Feel free to share any insight anyone has in the comments.
Writer’s block, that silly whore, is not actually in my way when it comes to this blog. She’s sitting on the last poem I need to write for my portfolio, flinging bits of refuse at me whenever I try to get close. Maybe if WB wasn’t constantly pissing off the very people she should be attracted to, she’d get laid and be a much more pleasant conceptual individual.
Usually music subdues the block, putting her to sleep long enough for me to tiptoe around her heap of a body. Today she seems intent on jamming with me, and even when I put on something I doubt she’d enjoy, she tries to pull me up to dance. I never dare, knowing she’ll stab me in the ribs and steal my kidneys if I get too close.
She’ll pass out eventually, I just need to outlast her.
I haven’t been around for a few days, mostly due to school work. There isn’t all that much of it left, but what’s there is enough to keep me away from this blog. To an extent, I’ve had topics for this in mind, but generally this past week has been about finals and closing projects for my last real term as an undergraduate. All that stands between me and a diploma is a final in Chinese Civilization, a reasonably short portfolio of poems, and a few months of downtime.
Why am I not graduating in January? The administration and internal workings of my institution are terrible. Most of my classmates, colleagues, and peers have discussed this to a huge extent, I don’t really need to talk about it. Feel free to share any insight anyone has in the comments.
Writer’s block, that silly whore, is not actually in my way when it comes to this blog. She’s sitting on the last poem I need to write for my portfolio, flinging bits of refuse at me whenever I try to get close. Maybe if WB wasn’t constantly pissing off the very people she should be attracted to, she’d get laid and be a much more pleasant conceptual individual.
Usually music subdues the block, putting her to sleep long enough for me to tiptoe around her heap of a body. Today she seems intent on jamming with me, and even when I put on something I doubt she’d enjoy, she tries to pull me up to dance. I never dare, knowing she’ll stab me in the ribs and steal my kidneys if I get too close.
She’ll pass out eventually, I just need to outlast her.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Make Friends with (better) Grammar
There are few things that bother me like poor grammar, especially when written by an otherwise clever person. This has ruined plays, blogs, poems, and essays that I've read, and it bothers me a little more each day. This wouldn't be the case if the majority of these works weren't by writing majors. It's only worse in the case of individuals who know how to fix their work, but don't bother to re-read any of their own material and produce drivel instead.
My own grammar is far from perfect, but there are little things that play on my nerves more than most others.
Tense Shifts - This is a common and relatively easy mistake to make. I'm guilty of it from time to time as well, but I usually correct it as I'm typing. The use of "were" and "is" in the same sentence referencing objects that are not in a state of constant being doesn't anger me, per say, but it is annoying and detrimental to an otherwise intelligent piece.
Contractions - I love these things. If I didn't have them, my writing would be much more dry and less personal. When they're used incorrectly however, I whip out my handy red-pen and scribble the hell out of whatever paper I'm looking at. Some of these improper contractions include you're, they're, we're, and it's. These do not mean "You forgot your book!/Let's go there!/They forgot their elephant!/It lost its way!" Common mistakes, yes. This does not mean that they cannot be fixed, or that common sense can't just fix it if anyone had the drive to read their own work. Good job.
Punctuation - For the love of Jesus shaped cookies, use punctuation. If you don't, I will throw things at you. When you do not use punctuation, you look like an asshole. Even if you use too many commas, you are still using them.
When you don't use commas and want to show something it looks like you have too much to say and only one breath to say it before the world explodes and they will never know the love you had for their domesticated animal
Get it?
And I/And Me - The rules are still the same, whether or not you have a friend with you. You're polite, so your friend comes first, but you're still the same as you were. "Dave and I went walking," is the same as "I went walking." Except there's Dave too. "Who wants to walk with Dave and me?" is the same as "Who wants to walk with me?" It's not complicated at all, contrary to common belief when you're in the third grade. As time goes on, your view is supposed to grow and mature on its own.
Then/Than - When? Then! This is probably better than whatever you're using to remember the difference, based on what I read on a day to day basis.
When you're intelligent and you type as if you weren't, then it doesn't matter what you have to say. You will look stupid, and be laughed at. I will be the one encouraging others to laugh at you. Please, for the love of fuck, proofread.
My own grammar is far from perfect, but there are little things that play on my nerves more than most others.
Tense Shifts - This is a common and relatively easy mistake to make. I'm guilty of it from time to time as well, but I usually correct it as I'm typing. The use of "were" and "is" in the same sentence referencing objects that are not in a state of constant being doesn't anger me, per say, but it is annoying and detrimental to an otherwise intelligent piece.
Contractions - I love these things. If I didn't have them, my writing would be much more dry and less personal. When they're used incorrectly however, I whip out my handy red-pen and scribble the hell out of whatever paper I'm looking at. Some of these improper contractions include you're, they're, we're, and it's. These do not mean "You forgot your book!/Let's go there!/They forgot their elephant!/It lost its way!" Common mistakes, yes. This does not mean that they cannot be fixed, or that common sense can't just fix it if anyone had the drive to read their own work. Good job.
Punctuation - For the love of Jesus shaped cookies, use punctuation. If you don't, I will throw things at you. When you do not use punctuation, you look like an asshole. Even if you use too many commas, you are still using them.
When you don't use commas and want to show something it looks like you have too much to say and only one breath to say it before the world explodes and they will never know the love you had for their domesticated animal
Get it?
And I/And Me - The rules are still the same, whether or not you have a friend with you. You're polite, so your friend comes first, but you're still the same as you were. "Dave and I went walking," is the same as "I went walking." Except there's Dave too. "Who wants to walk with Dave and me?" is the same as "Who wants to walk with me?" It's not complicated at all, contrary to common belief when you're in the third grade. As time goes on, your view is supposed to grow and mature on its own.
Then/Than - When? Then! This is probably better than whatever you're using to remember the difference, based on what I read on a day to day basis.
When you're intelligent and you type as if you weren't, then it doesn't matter what you have to say. You will look stupid, and be laughed at. I will be the one encouraging others to laugh at you. Please, for the love of fuck, proofread.
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