Adventures of Mediocrity

I'm coming up, bitches

2008-05-13T01:43:16Z

I am going to be in San Antonio next week. I'm thinking I could get up there either Wednesday or Thursday and be there till about Saturday afternoon. Well, actually, I'll still be there, but I'll be there with my family. People, who wants to hang out with me? I may or may not have a vehicle (most likely not), so I will require getting someone to come get me if they want to hang out, unless you can talk someone else with a car into the hangout.

Jason C, next time. Hopefully by then, I'll have a monster of a gaming laptop and we can join up for some sort of game.

But, on the other hand Mr. McCarthy, would it kill you to use quotation marks?

2008-04-23T13:24:44Z

I am approximately 3/4 of the way through No Country for Old Men and I must say that I am actually quite pleased with it and actually could see it as a quite suspenseful and well out together flick. So I want to see it even more now.

An allegory.

2008-04-12T18:29:30Z

So, for about two years now, I had been toiling away at the My Heroes Ability application on Facebook. I had been toiling away, trying to build up my healer abilities, using Calm on the members of my group to slowly push up my exp to get that next level, always in the hope of finally getting those 200 Ability Points I'd need to get Power Negation.

And then they finally opened up the Spontaneous Regeneration Ability. Only, that's a Physical Ability, and not down the Energy Ability tree that I've been going down. I really, really like the idea of Spontaneous Regeneration. It's a whole lot cooler than being just a Healer. And the physical path will help me out in the long run when I start actually going into battle. So I started working on that. I can balance these two out easily, actually. Just work on the Physical until I can get SR, then go back and become Ulti-healer. And then I could balance my time between the two, working back and forth.

But now, since I got transferred to Pharr, Mind Abilities have started looking really good. I've never really considered how to work with mind abilities, but it just seems really easy to take that on.

But, this is kinda crazy. This isn't how you play the game well. Spending a few exp here and a few exp there trying to improve all the bases takes forever. You'll end up losing interest in the game or it'll shut down before you actually ever get any good.

I find myself wondering what to do.

I've never had to ask myself this kind of question.

It's quite ridiculous.

(Yes, Sofi, I realize that this is uncomfortably reminiscent of a certain other blog entry, but I work with what I know.)

Another quick little thought.

2008-04-02T23:44:02Z

I think one wish I would choose would be for myself, my friends, and family to have one "Groundhog Day" a month. It would be one day that we could repeat over (just once, mind, I don't want to be stuck in a loop forever) with no consequences, but with the experience we gained.

Personally, I'd pick a pay day, blow all my money on movies, and then go back and buy the ones that were actually good. Oh, I'd try to break into a bank, just to see if I could.

I <3 Texas courts.

2008-03-16T14:51:43Z

Apparently a district attorney in some county near Dallas used government money to buy himself a gaming computer ostensibly passed off as a backup server.

Here are eyewitness accounts of the prosecution examining the witness, as portrayed by Penny Arcade. Ahem. Lolz.

Man vs. Wild

2008-03-09T17:43:39Z

So, I need to use up a week's worth of vacation prior to Memorial Day. I want to go camping and fishing. I think I would like to go to Bastrop state Park. And I think I would like go May 16th - May 18th. Who would go with me? For further links: http://www.tpwd.state.tx.us/spdest/findadest/parks/bastrop/

there was this nice Shaft parody on the radio that was Obama flavored

2008-03-05T15:42:02Z

So, yeah. Obama 08.

Indecision 2008. Seriously.

2008-02-24T15:56:52Z

Okay, so anyone who's hung out with me long enough knows that politically, I'm rather split and damn-near contradictory. I am torn between an almost Platonic love for pure order and forms (which leads me to love vast systems promising a place for everyone) and an inherent distrust of bureaucracy and rules and regulations that hamper individual choices (inherited from my father and cultivated by dystopian literature).

Democrats, with their promises of increasing the power of the government to provide for even the most disenfranchised citizens, tug at my Christian sense of charity. But I, as a middle class citizen living in one of the poorest regions of the country, see how these government programs are too often a handout (not a handup), and are too often abused by people who don't need while someone who is legitimately down on their luck or just needs a little boost to raise their standing often times doesn't qualify (c.f. financial aid).

Republicans, with their promises of reforming these programs, appeal to my deep inherent sense that one should be responsible for one's own actions. However, having lived through mostly Republican administrations, I haven't seen any change. I've mostly seen a worsening of the situation.

While Republicans are less likely to sire bills that restrict personal freedoms, it's mostly out of a laissez-faire idea of capitalism rather than a concern for the first two Amendments. Democrats, though, have their hearts in the right place, even when the stupidly try to pry my gun shows from my cold dead hands.

That being said, I generally lean towards the Right. And I've liked John McCain for a while.
And I've not liked Hillary for a longer while. So in a race between those two, I know which way I'm voting.

McCain and Obama though...

Everyone here knows I love the Myers-Briggs Personality Type Indicator personality test. The MBPTI is my way of understand people. I type as an NF, an Idealist personality. I believe in other Idealists, and I understand them, and I think that if there were more of us, the world would be a better place. Thing is... Barack Obama is an Idealist. If he's elected, he would not only be the first minority president, he'd also arguably be the first Idealist president.

Hell. I'm even more tied now.

I want to go fishing.

2008-02-21T23:56:25Z

Does anyone have a boat?

Also, I've noticed that my truck seat is getting a wicked ass-groove from all the time I spend in it. I've seen recliners that have less of a one than this. Sheesh.

Chris's San Antonio Adventure

2008-02-12T01:44:33Z

Plans are Tentative.

Saturday
1:00 PM Somewhere Off I-35 Visit with Jason C. Chat. Possibly talk about vampires and/or grad school.

3:00 PM Burr Street, San Antonio Convince Sofi to go to HalfPrice Books. Sell back some books. Buy a box full of crap fantasy and Cormac Mcarthy.

9:00 PM Chacho's Gather people to go to Chacho's. Drink Giant Margaritas.

Sometime after that Peter or Edmond's apartment, most likely Play video games. Drunken video games.

Sunday
11:00 AM N. St. Mary's St. Go to Candlelight for Brunch. Drink endless mimosas.
or
12:00 PM Taco Garage Go to Taco Garage. Drink Micheladas.

1:00 PM Somewhere off Turkey Point Visit the Gonzalez home. Deliver tithe of Avocados (and limes, if the tree has produced more.)

3:00 PM A Dollar Theater Somewhere Put down a $5.00 bill and point at movies I want tickets for.

8:00 PM TBD Baking/Drinking/Movie Watching Party at someone's house. Cranium should be played as well.

Monday
3:00 AM TBD Help clean up kitchen/floors

1:00 PM Crackerbarrel Eat Broiled Catfish, Fried Okra, and Mac-n-cheese.

I wrote this out freehand first.

2008-02-12T00:30:20Z

Written 01/14/2008

I am currently attempting to read Great Expectations for the second time and I do believe I shall finish it this time (Editors Note: He did.). Victorian literature is such a queer time. So many prolific authors and poets, and yet so… dull the style. I know I am spoiled, and that so much of my preferred style of writing was developed thanks to Modernism; it‘s just that the prose is so dense, with dependent clauses ad infinitum and nary a semicolon in sight. And yes, I realize the irony here. And then the p.o.v. It’s always first person, and it’s always being related from the future, after the events have happened. No In Media Res here. We have to start at birth and end (especially in a Thomas Hardy novel) in death.

And that’s not to say they are all terrible, but, ugh. There’s a dearth of wit, of one-liners. I know it’s my popcorn-addled mind that craves it, but come on.

Still, I am reading it, and managing to smelt enjoyment from the ore of the text. And three major… let’s call them theses… come to mind from this. First, I am reminded so very much of my trip to London. I want to go back now, and bring the books with me and compare the descriptions of Dicken’s Victorian London to Gaiman’s Neverwhere London to that paltry imitator, reality. Oh, and also visit Platform 9 and ¾ at King’s Cross Station again and maybe see some young kids smacking into the wall at a dead run. Awesome. More on this shall come later.

A second thesis, which I admit I have not fully developed, is on the nature of happiness, and humanity’s apparent inability to be truly happy. But I haven’t posted in so long that by the time I get around to this one, Mike will have moved to the moon.

The third thesis, which is filet mignion out of this top sirloin, is that, in the character of British Literature, Family is the Deus Ex Machina, the source of salvation that restores the proper identity in a romance, and averts the tragedy in a comedy. On the other hand, it is the Institution (be it representatives of a school, government, or social club) that is the tool of the antagonist, that which causes the tragedy to occur and grind our hero to nothing.

Contrast this to American Literature, where I believe it is familial expectations that protagonists flee from, and institutions (again, schools, offices, etc) that prove to be the Deus ex Machina.

These are broad, seeping claims, and ones that even I can disprove. And, to be fair, I haven’t read much Post-Modern British Lit, but I have read a bit of American Po-Mo, so that my supposed Atlantic divide may just be a temporal one.

But yet, but yet I have read some British Po-Mo lit. A very influential series, in fact, and that is J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series. And in this series, familial ties, bloodlines, and inheritances all play important salvatory roles while the Institutions play a greater role in helping the antagonist than the protagonist (How many teachers actually help Harry versus how many try to kill him?).

So if my thesis is correct, if J. K. Rowling had been born American, and been waitressing in an I. H. O. P. in Sandusky, Ohio, writing a story for her kids, it would have been titled Hermione Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. It would have been a story of a young person who struggles to get her family to understand her abilities and interests, and through mentoring and intervention by outside helpers of teachers and friends, proves her self-worth in a lifestyle different from her parents.
To prove this, I shall endeavor to research speculative juvenile fiction (from, oh, Modernity on) as an exploration of these themes. I will also look to secondary sources, especially those that explore juvenile literature from an existentialist (i.e. self and society) and social psychological views. Further research in sociology and social psych would also likely be helpful.

And finally, if I’m right, I should be able to come up with some legitimate conclusion for this.

It is entirely possible I am wrong. But, if my premise is sound, this might be as close to a lob as I can hope for in Academic literature, and might finally break this damn block of mine.

Postscript 02/11/2008: Yeah, I’m probably wrong. As I think more and more of it, it is a feature of the genre of children and adolescent literature that family is portrayed in a positive light. No reason not to stop continuing to explore it, but not likely.

Seriously? C’mon Peter Parker.

2008-02-12T00:26:59Z

On the formerly-prolific, ever-brilliant commentary blog
Websnark, Eric Burns recently posted a post about ret-conning as it relates to Marvel Comics’ latest dead albatross: Spider-Man’s "One More Day" storyline. Now, I don’t really keep up with Marvel or DC, or really any comics beyond what Robert Kirkman is regularly writing for (and even then, I’m only reading the comics, not the press release and rumors about these comics) these days. So, I had seen promotions for this storyline in my local comics’ dungeon, but figured it’d be a fairly standard storyline. But, by the Hammer of Thor, if this isn’t the third-most stupid thing ever done in comic storylines. It is a credit to how stupid it is to put it third in line as far as utter clusterfucks of storylines go. I mean, Squirrel Girl is Shakespearean genius compared to this. It’s not just that it’s absurd. It’s not that. These are comic books, absurdity is assumed as reality. It’s that it’s a terrible choice that I have a hard time imagining a true hero making.

Brief synopsis: Peter Parker (a.k.a. Spider-Man) and his wife Mary-Jane Parker (nee Watson) get offered a deal by Mephisto, Marvel’s ubiquitous Devil-figure, to save Peter’s dying Aunt May. Mephisto will allow Aunt May to live, curing her of cancer or Clone Degenerative Disease or whatevertheheck the editors have said she has, if Spider-Man and Mary-Jane agree to have their entire marriage and relationship erased. And the stupid fuckers agreed to it!!! Hang on a second; I’m going to go outside and scream obscenities until I calm down.

I’m back, and I’m better now. I see where Marvel editors are trying to go with this. First of all, Spider-Man and Mary-Jane’s marriage has been a happy one, in comparison to some of the other Marvel married couples. There has been no domestic violence, no adultery (that I’m aware of), nothing of that sort. Happy families, Tolstoy says, are all the same. They are boring. They already did the whole "Mary Jane is Pregnant, whoops she lost the baby and it’s Green Goblin’s (who we thought was dead but really isn’t) fault" storyline. There’s no dramatic difficulties left in their relationship. So, that’s a writing dead end. Spider-Man revealed his Peter Parker identity to the world (during the gawdawful Civil War debacle), thus putting an end to that staple of superhero storylines: the secret-identity revealed! All of his villains have been killed, had sons/daughters/clones who have become villains, and have been brought back from the dead to become villains again. There’s nothing left there. He’s even joined the Avengers, so there’s not really anything left for him to aspire to (unless of course he gets the Power Cosmic again and in which case he’s no longer Spider-Man, and Spider-fans won’t read it anyways).

So the editorial big-wigs in Marvel pushed the magical fiat button and are saying, "Hey look, everyone. Peter’s single and because he never dated Mary-Jane, he never revealed his identity, and Aunt May is still alive and it’s just like it was back in the 1970’s, where Peter is going to strike out on dates because he’s juggling being a superhero and a boyfriend and a good son." Suddenly, every story idea can be done all over again, and we’ll all love it because of course we love it, it’s Spider-Man. We’d love it if they had him giving crack to babies because we love Spider-Man, no matter what he does!

Which is, of course, false (although sadly, not as false as I would like). Because, you know what? I collected Spectacular Spider-Man during the ‘90’s. I saw the bad storylines (Spider-Ham, Stilt-Man, etc) and I hated them. We like Spider-Man when he is Spider-Man. Spider-Man is the guy who keeps to his principles and doesn’t give in to temptation. Spider-Man sacrifices himself to ensure that evil doesn’t win, and takes responsibility for his actions and lives with the consequences. He cracks jokes while he fights, but he never loses sight of the fact that he’s doing this for the Greater Good.

And this is not Spider-Man. Spider-Man would not do this. This is not the way it should be. J. Michael Strazyinski, the man who brought us Babylon 5, should be a better writer than this. Here are your crimes you commit against Spider-Man.

First, you prolong Aunt May’s suffering. Let Aunt May die, man. Let her be reunited with her husband, your Uncle Ben, in whatever afterlife there is. I mean, Jeebus, she’s been alone for how long? You want her to stay a perpetual senior citizen, while Peter Parker is off gallivanting around? That’d be terrible selfish of Spider-Man and Mary Jane to do so.

Second, Peter gave a promise to Mary-Jane to love her always when he married her. You’re making Peter back out on his word here. And not just that, but the whole Spider-Man tagline is "with great power comes great responsibility". Mary-Jane is a great power to Peter’s life, keeping him from going off the deep-end into Punisher-ville.

Thirdly, she is, in fact, his reward for being Spider-Man. Some of you who know the Spider-story from the movies alone will not realize this, but Mary-Jane was not originally the girl next door. No, she was the hottie-from-out-of-town. She was the niece or cousin of one of Aunt May’s friends, whom Aunt May was constantly trying to hook Peter up with. They always missed each other (due to the webslinging) but when Peter finally managed to meet her, she said "You’ve hit the jackpot, tiger." And it was true. In that time, Peter was still a mostly-nerdy wisecracking guy. He worked as a freelance photographer for the paper. He was never going to get a girl like this. Only he did. And man, she was a hottie. She became a model, and went on to star in a TV soap opera. And in their relationship, she was enticing. And she stuck with him. And in some alternate universes, their child survives and grows up to be a superheroine. He wins. Why on earth would he want to give up all that, just to keep his aunt alive for another year or two? And on top of that, he’s making a deal with the devil, notorious for having hidden catches in all his deals. It’s a huge gamble, huge sacrifice to make for… what?
One More Day?

It’s rubbish. Trash. Basura.

Of course, on a side note, this is why I hate stories with resurrection of protagonists. In general, most stories posit the existence of some sort of paradisiacal afterlife. Some sort of heaven. Now, a true hero would give up his chance in heaven to save someone else, no doubt. That’s the standard gambit, actually. The hero corners the villain in the end, and the villain offers him a chance at happiness or power or whatever, but the hero remembers all the little people in the world who would suffer if he doesn’t stop the villain, and he foils the scheme (more than likely dying in the end). But a true hero would automatically enter heaven, even after giving up paradise. He would turn his hell into his heaven.

But once he enters heaven, isn’t that enough? Hasn’t he gone through enough, pushed his way through doubt and fear and pain and suffering, such that we can let him rest? I’m using the male pronoun here, but any gender works equally well. The Buffy-resurrection thing underscores this point. She wasn’t happy she was brought back. Not at all. She hatted up and became the heroine again, but that still doesn’t excuse the fact that the rest of the crew didn’t hat up and stop the bad guys. Oh, they might have said they couldn’t, but I’ve seen enough episodes where it’s been one or another minor character who saves the world somehow. End side note.

David Willis, creator/artist of Shortpacked puts this whole situation into a succinct 6 panel punchline.

This isn’t something Spider-Man would do. He’s letting the bad guy win, just because he’s not man enough to let his Aunt May die. And not only is he letting the villain win, he’s sacrificing one of the best things in his life for this. You, Joe Quesada and the Marvel editorial team, are having Peter Parker renounce his hero status just as much as if he had actually agreed to the bargain with Mephisto just to be single and go party again. You’re selling him out.

Pass the torch. Let heroes rest, and let new heroes pick up where they left off, you know? I don’t mind if they get killed, so long as they die in keeping with their idiom and they stay dead.

Office Work: The Dystopia

2008-01-22T18:18:29Z

01/18/2098: The bitter winter continues unabated. Freezin rain buffets our site, with no hope of letting up. I feel for those poor s.o.b’s up in corporate, toiling in their subzero cubicles. But maybe they’ll get some warmth off the XO’s from HR. Obviously, anyone who makes us work during the worst storm of a millennia must be a demon, and should have the fires of hell burning inside them.

We lost Jimmy today. The stupid sonofabitch trieed to make a break for the coffee across the street. The guard roaches ate him before he got halfway there. In retaliation to our spirit, the regional coordinators turned off our heat. Esmeralda printed out TPS report after TPS report and we heaped the copier-warmed sheets over ourselves to maintain body temperature. Rick and I fought each other in the employees’ lounge/arena during lunch for the recreation of all. He lost. I’m going to miss that big bastard.

I’ll bury the remains and put in for his job on Monday.

President's Day

2008-01-19T14:33:08Z

So, I have President's Day off.

Can I crash at anyone's house in SA? All those who offer, I will make it a point to see.

There will be more substantive posts.

2008-01-12T16:59:35Z

I have an essay in draft form that is pretty much the same as a post on Websnark right now.

I have one concering "alpha nerds" and why Peter and I will put together an interdisciplinary conference on Aliens Vs. Predator and shall be inviting all to put in papers. We shall holding it in the parking lot at the IHOP on 1604. Andrea, be sure to invite Edmond, so that he can challenge all comers to a pancake contest in between panels.

But until then, quizzes.

I rep McCain for lief.

70% John McCain
66% Bill Richardson
65% Chris Dodd
63% Hillary Clinton
62% Barack Obama
62% Mike Huckabee
61% John Edwards
60% Joe Biden
57% Mitt Romney
56% Mike Gravel
51% Dennis Kucinich
49% Fred Thompson
48% Rudy Giuliani
47% Ron Paul
42% Tom Tancredo

2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz

I totally botched my wisdom roll.

2007-12-28T01:22:25Z

I Am A: Lawful Good Human Cleric (4th Level)

Ability Scores:

Strength-12

Dexterity-11

Constitution-13

Intelligence-15

Wisdom-14

Charisma-14

Alignment:
Lawful Good A lawful good character acts as a good person is expected or required to act. He combines a commitment to oppose evil with the discipline to fight relentlessly. He tells the truth, keeps his word, helps those in need, and speaks out against injustice. A lawful good character hates to see the guilty go unpunished. Lawful good is the best alignment you can be because it combines honor and compassion. However, lawful good can be a dangerous alignment because it restricts freedom and criminalizes self-interest.

Race:
Humans are the most adaptable of the common races. Short generations and a penchant for migration and conquest have made them physically diverse as well. Humans are often unorthodox in their dress, sporting unusual hairstyles, fanciful clothes, tattoos, and the like.

Class:
Clerics act as intermediaries between the earthly and the divine (or infernal) worlds. A good cleric helps those in need, while an evil cleric seeks to spread his patron's vision of evil across the world. All clerics can heal wounds and bring people back from the brink of death, and powerful clerics can even raise the dead. Likewise, all clerics have authority over undead creatures, and they can turn away or even destroy these creatures. Clerics are trained in the use of simple weapons, and can use all forms of armor and shields without penalty, since armor does not interfere with the casting of divine spells. In addition to his normal complement of spells, every cleric chooses to focus on two of his deity's domains. These domains grants the cleric special powers, and give him access to spells that he might otherwise never learn. A cleric's Wisdom score should be high, since this determines the maximum spell level that he can cast.

Find out What Kind of Dungeons and Dragons Character Would You Be?, courtesy of Easydamus (e-mail)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Detailed Results:

Alignment:
Lawful Good ----- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (35)
Neutral Good ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (27)
Chaotic Good ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (20)
Lawful Neutral -- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (25)
True Neutral ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (17)
Chaotic Neutral - XXXXXXXXXX (10)
Lawful Evil ----- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (16)
Neutral Evil ---- XXXXXXXX (8)
Chaotic Evil ---- X (1)

Law & Chaos:
Law ----- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (16)
Neutral - XXXXXXXX (8)
Chaos --- X (1)

Good & Evil:
Good ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (19)
Neutral - XXXXXXXXX (9)
Evil ---- (0)

Race:
Human ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXX (13)
Dwarf ---- XXXXXXXX (8)
Elf ------ XXXXXXXXXX (10)
Gnome ---- XXXXXXXXXXXX (12)
Halfling - XXXXXXXXXX (10)
Half-Elf - XXXXXXXXXX (10)
Half-Orc - (0)

Class:
Barbarian - (-23)
Bard ------ (-29)
Cleric ---- XXXXXXXX (8)
Druid ----- (-23)
Fighter --- (-2)
Monk ------ XX (2)
Paladin --- XXXX (4)
Ranger ---- XX (2)
Rogue ----- (-8)
Sorcerer -- XX (2)
Wizard ---- XXXX (4)

And maybe some blue cheese crumbles on that.

2007-12-27T18:14:31Z

So I picked up another Stephen King Book, for the first time in, oh, two years (that's a long time going between books by an author, especially one so prolific and in my preferred genres).

To describe the sensation of it, I must slip into my favorite metaphor, food. I eat hamburgers more than any other kind of food. I eat one at least once, if not twice a week. If I got to any restaurant regularly for any length of time, I will invariably pick up one of their burgers (or burger-derivatives). And I’m not just talking fast food places and Americana joints. I mean I’ve had burgers from steakhouses, seafood restaurants, Mexican food places, taco stands, everywhere.

I’ve had burgers with sautéed mushrooms, with grilled jalapenos, with pico de gallo; on whole wheat buns, on Texas Toast, on garlic butter ciabatta bread; bison burgers, ostrich burgers, burgers with shrimp; A1 Thick-n-Hearty sauce, remolaude sauce, pesto sauce.

And, by far, my favorite is a bacon-cheeseburger. The specifics of this vary through time and space, but I generally have it with at least the following: pickles, onions, and a spicy sauce. The sauce can be something mild like a Dijon mustard or KC Masterpiece BBQ sauce, or something as fired up as a chipotle mayonnaise or habanero ketchup.

But that's what I order.

And reading a Stephen King novel is like that. A bacon cheeseburger is not something spectacular. You do not order a bacon cheese-burger at your dinner with the queen. You do not go to culinary school to perfect the art of putting cheese onto bacon onto meat.

But in an airport layover, during a pit-stop of a cross-country drive, on your lunch break on a truly shitty day at work, nothing melts the world into quiet submission like a bacon cheeseburger. On those aimless Saturdays which feel like more should have been done but wasn’t; on those visits with old friends that seem like more should have been said, but wasn’t; on those days that are so frighteningly mundane, so much so that you begin to wonder if you are actually alive at all, nothing caps off those days with a sense of accomplishment, of “there-ness” as Doc O’Connor might say, as a bacon cheeseburger.

That’s a Stephen King book. He considers himself the Big Mac of Literature, but I think he’s being a bit too modest. Because there are some truly good bacon cheeseburgers out there, and there are some truly good Stephen King books out there. Reading his books, you can drown out the world, or you can say “I read 180 pages today. I did something.” And they are not thick, heavy things like a steak dinner. You don’t need to prepare it, to cut into the meat of it before hand, trying to go with the grain of the meat so that it will be tender to the bite. No, you just take it in your hands and start shoving it down, working through it in bites and chunks. And it’s oh-so-good. It’s nothing fancy, but it works.

His books tell a story, and they tell it well. The characters have voices, voices that live, salted lightly with reality. The books are paced in such a way that you can read blocks at a time, blurring through and yet still getting all the humor and tension of the story. You pick it up to be entertained, and as you read it, you are.

Except for the end.

Yeah, sorry, no metaphor there. Cell’s ending sucked, ’Salem’s Lot’s ending sucked, and It’s ending sucked. His endings suck. Oh there are exceptions… sorta. The Mist had a “Hitchcock ending”; Eyes of the Dragon has an ending that may not leave you wholly fulfilled, but at least fits the genre; and Needful Things wraps up everything if you don’t poke too closely.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I’m going to finish my Bag of Bones. It’s my lunch break, after all.

Tin Man

2007-12-19T18:25:12Z

Editor’s Note: Okay, yes, I am both author and editor, but that doesn’t mean I can’t go back and offer an apologia about the following. This is a meandering, tripartite kind of entry that starts out with a meme, goes to literary analysis, and finally ends up with self-criticism. And it was fermenting in my mind for about two weeks, so it should be a little bit south of ripe. I beg you to allow me this self-indulgence

As I have re-exposed my friends (most notably sofitheteacup and missmolecule) to that mental virus (a.k.a. meme) that is the Cube as a way for them to re-examine their lives (or to just give me a vicarious thrill), it is time for me to re-explore (Re, re, re. Damnit Chris, you just don’t do something once, do you? You have to go and do it again.) the Keirsey Temperament Sorter, more familiar to people as the Myers-Briggs Personality Type Indicator. INFP, ENFJ, etc. Go out and find a quiz somewhere that will give you your personality type if you’ve forgotten it before clicking on the lj-cut. There’s even a Harry Potter flavored one. Try to find it, it’s quite fun. I was Lupin.

Anyways, there is one commentator on the MBPTI who relates each of the basic temperaments (NF, NT, SF, ST) to a character from Frank L. Baum’s The Wizard of OZ. And because I saw 1/3rd of the Sci-Fi Channel mini-series Tin Man ( which, by the way, was 1/3rd of awesomeness. If anyone is looking for a gift idea for me; that on dvd, be it burned or at a later date when it gets released, would be a good idea) it seems right to explore this.

The Idealists, or NF personalities, were equated with the Tin Man. The Tin Man wanted the Wizard to give him a heart. Idealists are “Identity-seeking-personalities”.

The NT personalities, or Rationals, were equated with the Scarecrow. The Scare Crow wanted the Wizard to give him a brain. Rationals are “knowledge-seeking-personalities”.

I don’t really recall which one was the Cowardly Lion, and whether it was Dorothy or Toto who was the fourth character, so I’ll just wing it from here, and equate the Cowardly Lion with the Artisans or SF and Dorothy as the Guardian, or ST personalities. The Cowardly Lion wanted Courage and Dorothy just wanted Home.

This is particularly useful as a way to explore the new spin that was given to the characters in Tin Man because both the MBPTI recasting and the Sci-Fi Channel one both explore the archetype of the characters. They both explore what it means to be Dorothy, what it means to be the Tin Man; and both give the characters depth and shading by adding another dimension to them. They are both also useful because they both come from the same source, that is, archetypical studies, the idea of the monomyth. Both take influence from the works of Carl Jung and his students, so they are both hewn from the same stone. So let us see how deep this dimension goes.

The Cowardly Lion limps in this analogy, and I really didn’t see too much of his character in the parts I saw. And I don’t recall if Dorothy is actually the Guardian temperament. So we’ll regrettably have to leave them out of this discussion. Moving on.

The Character of the Scarecrow is a character who wants knowledge. He wants to be recognized for his achievements in knowledge. This easily represents the Rational. In the mini-series, he is a programmer/hacker cyberpunk-type. Like a William Gibson character, he has had his memory stolen, and he wants to get it back. He remembers he was brilliant, designing many things, but he learned too much about something and the Wicked Witch took his brain. He is on a quest to get his memory back, so that he can live the life of intelligence that he knows he must.

It is the Tin Man Character who is most intriguing to me, however. I must confess my bias toward this character because he and I share temperaments, and I think the creators of the mini-series share my bias. The titular figure in the mini-series is a former law-enforcement agent. In the Outer Zones (that is, the O.Z., wink wink), these agents wear badges of tin stars; ergo they are called Tin Men. This Tin Man is something more than just a cop, as well. He is a member of a resistance movement, working in subterfuge against the Wicked Witch-person and her minions (Including the flying monkeys!). And he has a family. Or had a family. When he was caught, his family was murdered and he was trapped in an iron suit, forced to watch the murder again and again. When Dorothy frees him from this trap, he is a bitter, seemingly-soulless man.

So then how does this relate to the Keirsey Tin Man, the Idealist? While a Guardian might seem to make more sense as a law-enforcement agent, Idealists are drawn to ethics and have a deep commitment toward justice and harmony. So it would make sense that he would be drawn toward a profession where he can keep peace and justice. Living a life as both insurgent and counter-insurgent would be a terribly strain on an Idealist, who strive for inner unity. They view this inner unity as a purity of their purpose, and cannot abide impurities in themselves. This would make Tin Man a character on the verge of a breakdown, and with the destruction of his family, would push him over the edge. An Idealist hunger for deep and profound relationships, and so it would make sense that what this Tin Man truly seeks in his profoundest desires is to have his family back. Without his family, he is a man without a true soul; he is a shadow of a man. He has lost his heart, and goes through life only seeking vengeance for what was been done and has nothing after that.

The only way for this Tin Man to come alive again is if he gets his heart back, if he finds some cause that will align the fractured portions of his desire back into a unified front, if he finds a cause again, if he finds a relationship that is as deep and as powerful as the one he had with his family.

As I haven’t seen the rest of the mini-series, this is what I predict will happen. Actually, let’s throw out a whole range of predictions. First, he will in someway be grateful that he was caught (actually, I’m fairly positive this won’t be in the mini-series. This kind of monologue is best represented in text) because it means that he will be have finally ended fighting for both sides. But, as he travels with Dorothy, his purpose, the matrix of his inner-self shall become realigned, and energy will be poured forth, like the beams of a laser. He’ll have a cause again, a deep personal care for the welfare of the rest of his companions in the O.Z. His thirst for justice will be slaked as he gains a measure of closure with the man who ordered the death of his family (I imagine it will be on a mountaintop during a lightning storm). Tin Man may not kill him, but he’ll be responsible for his downfall. But it will go beyond just petty vengeance. He will help topple the Wicked Witch and restore full order to the kingdom, saving not only himself, but the whole world. His drive toward being caring, toward unity will be re-awakened by the whole bit.

And now, this illustrates a problem I have with my writing. My conclusions suck. In this essay, I have a decent enough conclusion because I can make predictions. But, what happens when I’ve already read/seen/heard the text I’m critiquing? All my theses are fairly… boring or unimportant. My essays go thesis – reasons why it’s true – thesis again. “What’s the point?” Andrea would ask so often of my ideas. Why does it matter that [Aliens Versus Predator] is a brilliantly paced movie, or that [My Pal Trigger] is a beautiful example of chiaroscuro?

Conclusions are supposed to answer the question “So what?” and so very rarely do I find something that I can support this with. My best conclusions are in papers where I find something wrong with the piece. I can conclude an essay on why Soon I Will Be Invincible sucked by telling suggesting that the author should have combined the characters of Fatale and Lily into one, (thus giving the piece a sense of unity, rather than that out-of-nowhere-ending twist that makes no sense whatsoever). But that means that I can only truly write essays where I tear into someone.

And I do not like tearing into people all the time. I want to offer hope and encouragement and understanding with what I write. I want people to read my works and suddenly have a greater appreciation of not just the text I’m discussing, but a way to read life.

It’s so hard to do it in a way that’s really relevant. How, exactly, is proving that Die Hard 2: Die Harder is the best Christmas movie of Bruce Willis’s career going to change the lives of my readers? It’s interesting to me, sure, and it’s actually kind of a sophisticated analysis, but in the end, it’s mental masturbation.

But it’s so very, very hard to say something important in a way that doesn’t fill your mouth with that gawdawful saccharinely-sweet taste that gives people diabetes. “And this is why life is beautiful and everything’s great. Lawl.” Sure, you can always say give suggestions for areas of further inquiry. But that just leads to more research, more research, more research. When are you going to shut up and say something, Chris?

But it’s so damnably difficult to actually say something worth being said in a way that can be proven; especially when dealing with literary criticism and fiction, and doubly especially in an academic setting. I might be able to say that the value of The Wizard of Oz is that it showed Dorothy that family and belonging is the most important thing in the world, and thus it shows us this truth. And then Salamon Rushdie comes along and says that the Wizard was a terribly old man; and by returning to Kansas, Dorothy is dooming herself to a proletarian existence in a bourgeois, capitalist society. So, you can’t make meaningful statements without being willing to go down that road of point-counterpoint for ages. You have to give that much of a damn. But you can’t just wrap it all up in a neat and tidy little statement.

This is the point where I can conclude and say that more research is necessary. Because this is building up to the point. The Answer, as D. Adams phrased it, to Life, the Universe, and Everything. This is the part where I can say that I will be back, and I will have a better idea, and then, damnit, then, I will be invincible!

Max, this one goes out to you.

2007-12-19T18:17:04Z

Brie, you can get in on this too, if you still read this journal. Jason, KWT, Mr. B. Fridley, Danie, Pam; this one is in remembrance of you all.

The rest of you all, forgive me geeking out hardcore here.

So, a few days ago I hung out with a high school friend, Lucian. He was the one who introduced me, years ago, to a text-based online multiple-user roleplaying game called Dragonrealms. It’s strange, but for that reason, I have this Livejournal today.

Yes, indeed. Before this was your blog of choice for half-hearted rambles, too much info, and hopefully well-thought-out essays that change your lives; it was a blog devoted to quizzes and game happenings. Go back, friends, and check out the first few ones.

Anyways, invariably we got around to talking about DR. Actually, how we began talking about it was we started talking about ret-conning in comic books. We were talking about the Hal Jordan/Kyle Rayner Green Lantern debacle, and he mentioned how he’d seen this get done in so many online games. He’d see the developers try to introduce something that they felt would be fun or rebalance the games, and then the players would cry and scream and then invariably they’d have to come up with something to appease them and pull the plug on things early.

I chimed in at this point, saying that I had seen that in DR. And we got to talking about the game. It seems that both of us have given in to that particular addiction and we’ve both started up accounts for the game. We started talking about what we like about what they’ve changed, and about our friends who used to play. I told him about how I had Thanksgiving Dinner with a former GM and name dropped the various folks I’d met out of game.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed those times. Granted, I miss being an undergrad who could devote whole weekends to level grinding, but I also miss the fun that came with it. I recently started a paladin character, and I’m having a blast in those fun whirlwind first circles, blazing my way through, getting the abilities and what have you. That was fun, just like when I began. But I know after a while, it will just be the grind. That’s when I started getting involved in the events, that’s how I met up with Mr. Fridley and Max and Jason and the whole crew. And then people started getting Livejournals and posting “behind the scenes” accounts and whatnot. And so http://www.livejournal.com/dr_poetus was born. And then came the AIM chats, where we’d bitch about our various frustrations and proclaim our victories; Max with his school woes, me with my stories about the Korean kids, Danie with her heartwarming tales of her son. And it was beautiful.

Wow. I wonder what’s happened to everyone. Max and Brie, I keep close enough tabs on you to say where you are, but KWT and Jason? I know Jason’s working in Chicago somewhere. I have no idea what KWT is doing. Blakers is probably still in West Virginia, possibly translating The Dukes of Hazzard into Russian. Danie is hopefully still trying to pursue her higher education.
I miss those days.

Cooking Disaster

2007-12-11T18:31:27Z

I don’t believe I’ve ever truly screwed up a meal so badly that I couldn’t salvage something from it.

Part of this stems from the fact that my dad was the chef in my family, and so much of our father-son bonding was done in the kitchen or making dinner over a campfire. I learned what meat looked like, what fried foods looked like just before they were done. The wisdom of life was imparted to me in grocery store aisles, as well as how to sort the good produce from the bad. So that helped.

Part of it comes from my ironically occasional bouts of meticulousness, in which I follow directions as printed.

Part of it comes from the fact that I didn’t hesitate to call my father for help.

This is not to say, however, that Chris never screwed up at cooking. Oh no. I have failed many a times at the culinary arts and would like to share a few with everyone.

My sophomore year of college, I had my first kitchen. By which I mean my first kitchen where I was solo; where I was free to stock, free to cook, free to destroy as I saw fit.

I ended up making a lot of mistakes there.

One mistake I made that actually didn’t affect the food, but rather affected me was when I made pico de gallo for the first time by myself. I bought a lot of tomatoes and so I bought quite a few Serrano peppers to go with them. It was fun. I ended up dicing and mixing enough pico to fill 3/4ths of one of those gallon stainless steel bowls. I did this by hand. That was the mistake. I actually got a chemical burn from the capsaicin from the Serranos. I knew it was a chemical burn because when I licked my wounds, it tasted spicy. Literally. I had spots on my hand that tasted spicy.

Another time, I wanted to make spaghetti and meatballs, but I lacked a red sauce. I had tomato sauce, spices, and sundry other items. What I didn’t have was a recipe. I can’t recall precisely what the wrong proportions were, but I recall using a salt-less tomato sauce. I figured that adding in a can of hot (not original, hot) Ro-tel would even the season. Yeah, that didn’t work, and instead left me with this fiery, salt-less thing. And then I overloaded it with garlic salt to try to balance it. That didn’t work either.

And I still used the damn thing, albeit sparingly.

Then there was the infamous alfredo incident. Andrea, you should remember this one. I was at her house, and decided it would be nice to make her an alfredo sauce. Now, I’m particularly fond of my alfredo. It’s a point of pride for me, one I use to impress friends and loved ones. This night, however, my pride went before my fall. I was too confident and not familiar enough with the stove, and ended boiling over two quarts of heavy cream all across a ceramic-top stove. Those things are scary. Not as scary as an angry Andrea, but still.

And of course, then there is my endless battle to get the perfect batch of Mexican rice. I believe I’ve recounted the plethora of disasters that have gone with this one, so we’ll leave that be, unless you feel like digging through my archives.

Feel free, as well, to share your own disasters either here or in your own journals.

The Ghettoest KFC I've ever been at.

2007-11-29T01:04:18Z

So last night I got tapped to bring home some Kentucky Fried Chicken. I go to our usual location. It’s not really in a bad side of town. But yesterday, it was like years and years of barrio-zation were suddenly compacted into that restaurant.

I go in, place my order, and get told I’m going to have to wait 20 minutes for the extra-crispy to get done. I like Original Recipe, myself, but the rest of my family prefers the EC. So I sit down and wait; and I start messing around with my phone, sending text messages and the like. And suddenly I’m aware that I’m the only customer in the place, and I get this uncomfortable feeling sinking into my skin. I have a sudden urge to say “Yeah, boyeee”. I look up. The employee who had been sweeping the dining room, the employee who I had previously ignored, was now spitting rhymes in tune with the music in his iPod. I wasn’t close enough to hear, so I couldn’t tell if he was just trying to sync up with what Jay-Z or (more likely) Pitbull was saying or if he was practicing for his next battle against the workers from the Church’s across the street. But he was there, his broom stopped momentarily, his posed hands flying through the air as he spun his lyric.

And it gets better. Ceci, the counter girl, calls out to 8 Mile, Jr. across the freaking restaurant. “Hey, Alex. Alex. Alejandro!” He looks up. “Come back here so I can go out there and start mopping early. I want to finish soon so I can go and spark up a J.” The emphasis is mine. The words, however, were all hers. She said that, verbatim; said it loud and proud, like there was no one else there.

And for the final chapter of this whole piece, the two are standing behind the counter, and they start unburdening their problems to one another. Now, I didn’t hear much, but I could tell that these two kids (and they were kids. Alex was probably barely 16 and Ceci was maybe 20, tops) didn’t come from good homes. And you know, my heart bled for them. I don’t wish that anyone should have to work the counter at KFC and think it’s the best job they’re going to get. That was our moment of seriousness before the next comic performance, because Ceci starts talking about how she can’t get booked on any more assault charges or they’ll put her away. And Alex chimes in, saying “Yeah, I know, huh? If I get caught one more time, they’ll put me in Juvie til I’m 18. I’ll end up in San Marcos or something.” Ceci tries to start talking about how she wants to go back to college so she can get out of this job, and Alex jumps in and is like “Shit yeah. You think I want to be here? Sweeping up some chicken that some white guy throws on the floor? They think that just because we’re Mexican, that’s all we’re good for.” And that’s the capstone. I’m Mexican. He’s Mexican. Ceci’s Mexican. The store manager is Mexican. The fry cook is Dominican (No, I’m just joking and should properly use the terms Hispanic or Latino for all these generalizations, but we’re using his words, not mine). Everybody who I’d see come in the store was Mexican. And there’s Alex, going on about how it’s all because he’s Mexican, with his street style posing.

Yeah. It was… um… special.

dr_poetus @ 2007-11-23T06:10:00

2007-11-23T12:11:54Z

It's 6 o'clock and I've been up for an hour now. Why? All because my parents were hitting all the other stores and needed me to go to "Linens & Things" for frickin' George Foreman Grill. Happy post-Thanksgiving everybody.

So a Mexican, a Chinese man, and an Indian walk into a Thanksgiving Dinner. And that was my yesterday, how about you?
I hope you all had a wonderful T-day. I did, albeit a very croweded one. We had upwards of 30 people come to our house for dinner (and I went to my maternal aunt's house for lunch) and 3 turkeys (1 smoked, 1 deep fried, and 1 put in Ron Popeil's Showtime Rotissere). My mom invited her co-workers (an Indian family and a Chinese man) and our neighbors invited their family from across the Rio, so it was an actual cultural mix. I felt like I was back working as a B.A. again. So, that was nice. The food was good as well. I could give a detailed list/recipies of food I ate on demand.

Night, all.

I'm so losing a mancard for this one.

2007-11-20T18:19:46Z

Also a while ago, I ran across this music video for a song called "Rock Star" by the group Prima J. It follows as thus:

(The official version, found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PxOaZiHw0Xo has removed it's embedding feature by request from the Universal Music Group, so I found this other one, which may not be of the same quality. I'd check it, but I can't be bothered with such mundane things.)

And I found myself liking it. Not because it's, you know, actually art or anything, but because it's real. Not that the two primas are actually rockstars, but they look like they think they are. I have cousins who could very well be these girls. And yeah, they think they are everything that you've ever wanted to be. And it's funny cause it's true. And so, you know what, I like it.

In case you're wondering, yeah, I've had all these entries saved on Word for a while and have jut been waiting for a chance to post them. I think that's how it's going to go for a while. You won't get the dailies, you will, however, get the digests.

Cowboy movies?

2007-11-20T18:10:10Z

So the other day, I saw a Roy Rogers cowboy movie. Now, when I’d hear my father talk of Westerns and cowboy movies, he’d talk about three people. John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, and Roy Rogers. John Wayne was the manly hero, stoic and stern, but he’d never shoot a man in the back. Clint Eastwood was the badass. He’d take what he wanted and he’d get people to thank him for it. And Roy Rogers was the good guy. That’s all I knew about him.

And then I saw this movie. I don’t know what it was called. I can give a short plot summary, though. Roy Rogers plays Roy Rogers, a cowboy in a circus that is run out of this old ranch owner’s ranch. He’s got a horse named Trigger, and he’s obviously a famous cowboy, known for his singing and his horse and rope tricks. Oh, and this is set in like the 1920’s or ‘30’s, I think. Or even maybe the 50’s, I guess, but I doubt that because there don’t seem to be very many WWII veterans in the group. Anyways, it’s a happy little town of horse ranchers. And there’s this mean old baron of a horse-raiser who unleashes a crazed mustang into the herds of ranchers who don’t join up for his protection racket. The horse kills a few horses and it’s up to Roy Rogers and his horse Trigger to find this phantom horse and also track down the horse baron.

All and all, the movie was formulaic and would be approved of by (what most of consider) conservatives. I mean, there was even a bit where a boy gets a calf for his birthday. It harkens back to “traditional values”, that wistful longing for old days, etc. And yet…

And yet it is not quite so traditional. Roy Roger’s circus is peopled by minorities of every distinction, from Chinese acrobats to Mexican vaqueros. Women seem to have equal share in the work, equitably. The circus is an oddity; it’s a place for the disenfranchised to find purchase. Even the grumpy grandfather ranch owner who maintains the circus is a bit of a bleeding heart. Despite all his insistence that his grandson toughen up and get over his irrational fear of horses, the old man is the one who buys him the calf. Roy fights against the corrupt baron, the most capitalistic one of the bunch. In short, the values espoused in the movie are the values that you would find in more modern, liberal-leaning movies. I find this… hopeful, I guess.

Some people would say that it’s just a sign that progress hasn’t been made that people still are clinging to these ideals and finding them in the saccharine dregs of G-rated cinema. Some people would say that obviously any movie considered wholesome has conservative slants already. But not I, says the boy. I find it encouraging that there is something that is enduring in the American (at the very least, if not the entire Occidental) consciousness, that there is something that remains valued for over 50 years. It’s a sign that some things don’t change, sure. But some things we don’t want to change.

Andrea will jump all over this and claim it as hers.

2007-11-10T02:15:01Z

Beware the Chris of March.

Which work of Shakespeare was the original quote from?