Fall Approaches

I haven't been feeling myself lately, partially I think because of the change of weather. It has been a little bit cooler and a bit more cloudier, especially in the morning, all of which is a reminder that school will be beginning soon and I still haven't yet completed my papers from spring term. I know that I have complained to much here about something that has largely been within my own control, therefore, I will try to keep my thoughts about the unfinished work short.

Although I forget in which book I was reading it, I recently came across some advice for overcoming writer's block, something that every writer supposedly experiences at one time or another. This is my first real, a most severe case of it. I have put off assignments before. In my undergraduate days, there were a couple of 3-5 page papers that I put off until I was sometimes the very last person in the computer lab when they shut it down at 2:00 a.m. and the first person to be there in the morning when they opened it at 7:00 a.m. A marathon session at the computer would be all I needed to get the work in on time. Part of me does not want to believe that I am experiencing writer's block at all right now, but the facts are staring me in the face. Feedback, wanted and unwanted, from my girlfriend and my family has helped me see the extent to which this has affected me, and by extension, them. And it has not been pretty.


Fall Approaches

Anyway, the advice in the book was simply this: A famous writer says that she allows "sentences to be as stupid as they wish." I think that my problem is that I have placed so much pressure on doing these papers perfectly, I have nursed too many fears that the paper will earn a poor mark, I have wasted so much energy worrying about a future not being at school anymore, that I have become paralyzed. I keep waiting for the perfect sentence to spring into my head so I can put it on paper. The trouble is (and I intellectually knew it all along) that the perfect sentence is developed later, like muscles, on the skeleton sentence you place in the draft. This is basic writing process kind of stuff.

In any event, with the new approach of letting my sentences "be as stupid as they wish," I am going to try to knock a full draft of my half-completed paper either by the end of today or at least by sometime tomorrow. This has to been done because there is no more avoiding it. I will post another brief blog entry when I have it done. Until then.

Maintenance Needed

Even though I have been working really hard to get everything completed as far as my papers go, life continues to go on without any regard for how much work I have left. I can't very well ask for the world to stop spinning for a couple of weeks so I can get it all done. So this morning, I had to take care of something that could not wait, my car needed some maintenance. The battery was starting to complain with the universally recognizable "urrr, urrr, urr" sound that meant it would soon die, or commit suicide, in place not of my choosing. Also, the brake light had been on for about a week, which to my mind was getting to be too long, as I was having nightmare vision of shooting off the edge of the coastal cliffs frantically pumping the brakes to no avail. Here's me: "Ahhhh!" And then, the brakes go: "Do what? What did you want me to do? Oh, and quit stomping on my head."


Maintenance Needed

Therefore, last night, I checked the fluid in the battery, which appeared to be fine. (Of course, the secret here is that I wouldn't know if it wasn't fine. All I could check on was whether or not it was full or not. It was full, thank goodness.) Then I poured a dilute solution of baking soda on the battery terminals to see if that would somehow help. I must have used too much baking soda because there was plenty of green toxic fizz bubbling all over the top of the thing to scare away a nearby cat. It reminded me of when I worked at a local factory. ("Dude, drop a little of that hydrochloric acid in that caustic soda barrel, will ya? It'll be cool!" Meanwhile, BOOM!) I then filled up the brake fluid reservoir, which took me forever to find. Apparently, it is super important not to get dirt or dust in the reservoir, and so I didn't. But that was a bit of a challenge--half of the car is made from dirt, and the other half is held together by it. Then, I drove around on the freeway for about a half hour to see if that would charge up the battery. I'm not the most mechanical guy in the world, but I impressed myself by being able to do this much.

Unfortunately, while the brake fluid fixed the one problem, the battery was still having trouble. So after driving my girlfriend to work, I drove the car to Les Schwab and bought a new battery. Apparently, this was the last trip I was going to get out of the car because it died immediately after I parked it. The battery is dead, long live the battery! The mechanic said that the battery was at the end of its life cycle anyway, since the battery was only supposed to last five years, which was as long as I had owned it.

Of course, the really fun part of this story is this: even though the battery will get the car going and keep it going, the alternator is bad (according the mechanic and his battery-o-meter). Therefore, the alternator will have to be replaced. And in his words, it will be a real "difficult" to get out. His wording made me think that he assumed I was going to do it myself. I guess I look like a so-called "good 'ol boy" to most mechanics; therefore, they often assume I should know how to rebuild things like carburetors and diesel engines, since that is what I should be doing with my time on the weekends. They happily took my 60 bucks and wished me, and my nearly-dead alternator, well. Sometimes, even though I like driving, I really hate cars.

Buck Rogers: Attack of the Seventies

This morning, after making breakfast, packing a lunch for my girlfriend, and sending her off to work, I watched a few moments of television and saw something that I had not seen in nearly twenty years. On the Sci-fi channel they were playing re-runs of Buck Rogers. Wow, what a cheesy 80's show! How many references can one show make to Disco? It is sobering, and a little scary, to realize that this thing had won some emmys. Even as a kid, I remember thinking to myself that it was a little silly, but I had no idea how silly until I saw this particular repeat, which coincidentally was an episode that I remembered as one of my favorites, Cosmic Whiz Kid.

To summarize, Gary Coleman (yes, that Gary Coleman) plays Hieronymous Fox, the president of some other planet of humans. He is a child super genius, who, like Buck, is from the twentieth century, and who is kidnapped by some intergalactic criminal. Why? For ransom of course, 2.5 pounds of pure quadrillium to be exact. So Gary's bodyguard, a woman named Dia Cyrton, kidnaps Buck Rogers in turn to rescue Gary, right while Buck is listening to Three Dog Night (yes, that Three Dog Night). Oh the humanity! As a bodyguard, I have to say that Dia seems pretty useless, so all of the standard nerd questions apply here. Questions like: how come the president of an entire planet only has one bodyguard, a slight female, who, as far as her bodyguard role is concerned, dresses in spandex, is completely unable to fight the bad guys, and shamelessly flirts with her own captive when effecting a rather leisurely rescue? The best part of her "outfit" is that she carries a metallic purse everywhere she goes, which apparently she keeps her laser blaster and nothing else. But get this, Gary escapes on his own, eliminating the need for a rescue! What was the point of this show again?


Buck and Gary

As a kid, I thought the show was pretty cool because of the laser weapons, the awesome looking spacecraft, and, looking back on it now, the easy to understand plots. The robot, Twiki, I never really liked much--bee-dee, bee-dee, beep! As an adult, I wonder how this show ever got made. It looks like it was riding the success of Star Trek, Star Wars, and Battlestar Galactica--all of which have had their share of silliness. Of course, absolutely nothing beats Buck Rogers in that department. When I left to go to school, our hero Buck and an official delegation from another star system were watching a special Earth performance of--ROLLER DISCO!. If aliens ever do invade to try take over the planet, and we show them stuff like that, I am sure we could easily defeat them by taking their weapons while they were doubled over on the floor laughing hysterically.

Childhood Flashbacks

When I was about ten, my mom married someone who she probably shouldn't have, and as he had kids, I was introduced to a new step-brother and sister. At the time, being a kid who was not practiced in the art of self-reflection, I adjusted to this new fact pretty well. This new brother and sister were not over for a visit all of the time, but enough for us to get to know each other fairly well. My new step-sister was an interesting companion. I remember playing my colecovision with my step-sister and excluding my other sister from whatever we were doing. It was not the enlightened thing to do, but I was about ten, and as the cliche goes, kids can be cruel. Of course, this arrangement did not last long as my mom divorced that guy, and the step-sister and step-brother faded away into my personal history.

That is, until today. My ex-step-sister (could there BE any more hyphens!) decided to vacation in the area from Texas, and she thought it would be fun for a spontaneous visit. We somehow agreed to meet at a Starbucks for coffee. I suppose I could have been more hospitable, but I wasn't expecting her to show up in my town, so it had to be Starbucks for the time being. We didn't catch up on what had happened since we last saw each other so much as we were reintroduced to each other for the first time, again. It was slightly odd, but the bottom line is that she and her boyfriend seem like very nice people. They're some of the good guys.


Filming

Nothing much else has happened lately, except on Friday when they were filming a movie on campus. And this was not one of the those small student produced affairs that are likely happening here all of the time, this was an official, full-production-values Hollywood type of thing. But I am guessing, in Hollywood terms, this was a rather small affair. Still it was interesting and drew quite a crowd. I couldn't get close enough to see any of the acting, and I tried to take a picture of the filming as it was happening, but nothing turned out well. As you can tell from the above picture, there were official acting trailers and equipment vans that were parked along the normal pay parking spaces. What you can't see are the vans and trailers parked up and down the street. If I hear which movie they were filming here, I'll post an update.

In any case, my work continues. I'm still trying to hammer out a respectable paper that can be turned in tomorrow morning. I feel pretty good about it, and what is more, I should have a grade on another paper that has been previously turned in. Thankfully, things are beginning to look up. All of these incompletes should be done either by the end of this week, or the middle of next. A lot of it depends on how the professors are able to work with my schedule. I can't tell you how much I (and everyone else) am looking forward to finally being rid of these monkeys (Eek oop oop!) on my back.

Giving them the Business

Way back in January, I did not have much of an internet connection. So I decided that I would try to install some earthlink software so I could use it free for a couple of months before I figured out something better. Unfortunately, the Earthlink software wouldn't really work on my computer because the computer was manufactured sometime between when the earth first cooled and people began building pyramids. Oh well, I thought, I guess I'll have to figure something out sooner than I thought. And of course, I promptly forgot about it.

That is, until July, when I noticed that there were charges on my bill from Earthlink. When I called up customer service, which took me a long time to do because their 1-800-number is a kind of a secret, the person on the other end of the line was less than helpful. I was frustrated, so I asked him if he as a representative of Earthlink was going to charge me for a service I never used, essentially taking money away from me and giving me nothing in return. Of course, the guy said that was exactly what he planned to do, and other than cancel my service, there was nothing else we would do for me. Let's just say it was a bad day for me. But once again, I decided that I would forget about it and chalk the whole thing up as a learning experience.

That is, until today, when--guess what--I received a bill from Earthlink charging me $37.00 dollars. You might ask: for what? Good question. I haven't the slightest idea, something about a return item charge and an associated return item fee. Apparently, they not only want to charge for not only for returning something, but they want to add an extra charge on top of that just because they apparently hate to have stuff returned. Of course, I think this is wonderful policy. However, I guess I should clarify that it is wonderful only if you want your customers to hate you. It is exactly the kind of thing that inspire people to create "I hate so-and-so company" websites.

You might think that I would call the company and ask them what the hell they were smoking in their accounts receivable department, and that is just what I did. Fortunately, I got to talk to a guy who seemed to actually working for the forces of good. He said he did not know why my account had not been cancelled the first time. There was even a note in his computer saying that I had called to cancel. But, even better, he also saw that I had never used the service (how they can tell I don't know). Therefore, not only was he going to cancel the unknown $37.00 charge, he was going to send me a $90.00 dollar refund. Holy Crap! This sort of thing is not supposed to happen. I am so used to being told poor customer service is somehow my own fault that I was truly shocked. I made sure to tell the guy that, not only was he doing a great job, but he had made my day. I told him he had redeemed my faith in humanity (but only just little bit).

This is in direct contrast to a phonecall I received at 8:30 a.m. the other morning. I figure someone calling that early must be someone important, like a family member or a doctor, with important news that can't wait until a more decent hour of the day. Of course, it was telemarketer.

Incredulous, I said: "Do you realize it is 8:30 in the morning?"
The telemarketer says, "Well, I am sorry sir, but we are in our legal right to call."
I said: "Okay, well take my name off of your whatever list so I don't get called by you guys again."
She, "our whatever list?"
I, "Yes, I believe that I am within my legal right to request that you put me on your do not call list and that is exactly what I am doing right now."

And then she hung up. I wish these major corporations would figure out a better way to sell their products, and I wish that old people had someone to talk to. They're the only large group of people I can figure who are buying stuff on the telephone. Please people, do your civic duty and make them (the telephone sellers and the telephone buyers) stop. Please make them stop.

The Score: (2/0)

It is almost the end of the week, and I am still very busy at work trying to crank out the last of the papers that have been dogging me since the end of last term. Thankfully, the monster paper that had been eating away at me for months is finally complete and turned in, and now, I only have one and a half more to go. (The score mentioned in a previous blog is now: 2/0.) It is has not been easy to churn out thoughtful, academic words on paper, but, other than the extreme time crunch right now, I feel better about getting it done now than I did three or four weeks ago.


summer benches

I have finally turned a corner on this block I had, so, if all goes according to plan, I should have all of this work done by Monday--every last stinking bit of it. That means, no more reading about me here in the blog griping about work I have to do, something which, it has been pointed out to me, I have tendency to do. However, I also did not want to give the impression that I have abandoned my blog, so I present to you a picture that I took in June. Enjoy.

UPDATE: I guess the game is not going as good as I initially thought it was. One of the papers that I turned in, the small two page prospectus, was not quite up to snuff according to my professor. I'm not sure if this means that I have to redo it, or if I have to take the bad grade for it and move on. (Is the score back to 2/1, or does it remain at 2/0?) On the one hand, I am grateful for the feedback during the summer. I mean, he could have chose not to read it until the beginning of fall term. However, I was really hoping that the paper would have cut it. I was depressed for the rest of that day figuring out what my next move should be. This might change my upcoming plans for the fall, but I'm still hoping that I can pull it off afterall.

The other day, I ran into a small group of fellow graduate students talking about their summers. I did not have the courage to ask them why they were there for fear of exposing myself as someone struggling with the program. Unfortunately, I fear that they might have been on campus that day for a mini-conference about the fall classes they will teach. If that was indeed the reason why they were there, then they already know something is up by virtue of my not being there with them. Since there is nothing I can do about it now, I will not expend any more energy worrying about it. As for the papers and finishing up the work that I am mired in, I am thinking that now is the when the real test sets in. Although I have set myself on a new path, and changed some old behaviors, the novelty of the change is wearing off. Consequently, I am going to have to figure out a way to push my way forward and finish all my work, even though the chain of monotony is beginning to pinch a little.

Thieves (Phishing)

Although I've not had a laptop for very long, not even a full year yet, I've already become very attached to it. I use it to write my papers, develop my blog, and yes, I use it to help manage my finances. I use both Quicken, which I think is a great way to track my money, and the online services of my bank. Rather than be charged $1.00 for an ATM mini-statement because I can't figure out if the Costco hot dog I want to buy will put me over, I can surf over to my bank, log on and see what they say I have. Sure, I could try and keep track of it by writing it all down, but that takes too much time and math than I really want to put up with in a day.

Other than be impressed with the convenience of online banking, I really thought nothing much of it. And I thought nothing much of the following E-mail I received in my junk e-mail folder this afternoon.

Dear US Bank Customer,
During out regular update and verification of the Internet Banking Accounts, we could not verify your current information. Either your information has been changed or incomplete, as a result your access to use our services has been limited. Please update your information.
However, failure to update your records will result in account suspension.
This notification expires on August 11, 2004

To update your account information and start using our services please click the link below: [link to their phony USBank page which looks like the real thing]

My online E-mail accounts are always putting things in the junk e-mail folder that don't really belong there. Like movie cowboys, they put stuff there first and ask questions later. I dutifully logged in with my screen-name and password and began filling out their form. Until I realized that they were not supposed to be asking me for my debit card and pin number. Too late, I looked in the corner of my screen and saw that the lock was in the open position. I had fallen for it.

I quickly logged onto my online account and saw that thieves had already downloaded a personal banking statement. Consequently, even though I had not keyed in my debit or pin number, they still had my account information because I had inadvertently given them my online id and password. Quickly, I called the USBank number and found my way through the phonetree to the place where I could report fraud. The woman on the other end of the line was friendly enough, but I had to cancel everything. They said that they were going to send me replacement checks and a debit card as soon as they could. All of this has been really aggravating, but I am kicking myself for not noticing that the site was not encrypted earlier.

But this is not the only run-in I've had with thieves this week. Yesterday, my girlfriend's car was stolen. Fortunately, it was recovered that same morning but not before they made off with about one hundred dollars worth of camping supplies and equipment. You may remember from my post in May that my car had been stolen as well. Like that last time, the thieves had driven the car only a few blocks away, and they had ransacked it looking for any items of value, but unlike last time, they actually found something to steal and, in all likelihood, sell.

The police officer this time was a nice young guy who said that car thieves usually use a worn out keys to get the cars started. He said that they can just walk up to a car as bold as brass and have it running in a couple of seconds. He took some fingerprints off of the rear-view mirror before releasing the car back to us. My girlfriend went through many of the same emotions I did when I had my car stolen.

What is wrong with these people? I know that there is a lot of hardship out there, like homelessness and drug addiction, and these things can sometimes lead some people to desperate actions. Intellectually, I know that being detached from material possessions is a virtue that should be developed. But what happened to kindness and consideration for your fellow human being? I can't see what would give an otherwise normal person the ability to take without permission something that does not belong to them. Could you do it? Could you steal someone's car in order to sell the things they left inside? Would you empty out someone's bank account of their last twenty dollars? I don't think I ever would or could, especially after knowing how it feels.

UPDATE: Apparently, this kind of "phishing" for sensitive information is on the rise, and it doesn't just target USBank. Many corporations are being "spoofed," in order to fool customers into giving up sensitive information. If you don't know what "phishing" or "spoofing" is, look it up on Google news. You'll need to find out sooner rather than later, especially if you do business on the Internet. Here is a news article that discusses the issue. If you have a suspicious e-mail that wants you to update something on your account, find a way to report it. I realized too late that if I had read this bogus e-mail carefully, rather than respond emotionally to it, I would have discovered the gramatical error. (Did you catch it? Here it is: "Either your account has been changed or [IS] incomplete." I seriously dislike these kind of people.) While I haven't read all of it yet, this site [antiphishing.org] appears to have some excellent information about the evil tactics these people use and some good information on how to protect yourself as well. Recommended reading for everyone.

Ongoing Work

So while I didn't do as much work as I may have wanted to over the weekend, I did manage to get some good work done on my papers, including reserving the requisite research books from the library. (Now, I await an e-mail from them letting me know when to pick them up.) I'm already going through two books on Victorian Ideas about race and ethnology rather solidly, and the books I am awaiting on are all about blogging. Today, I will spend some afternoon time in the library checking out some books on Kenneth Burke. It's a mad rush to get all of this done, but I am both optimistic and hopeful that I can pull it off.

In a way, I can't wait to write my paper about blogging. I've been reading the articles on this site "Into the Blogosphere," and I find some of the ideas a bit interesting. Of course, gathering from what little I have read of it so far, it is chock full with the academic jargon that so many people find painfully boring to read. I think that t here is such much to do with this field right now. Of course, one of the things that has been coming in the media lately is how blogging is like any other fad; therefore, it should be ignored until it goes away. While the hype surrounding it may die down a little (as more and more people get sick of hearing about blogs), while a new technology may supersede it, that idea of having your own site for personal expression on the web will not likely disappear, even though the form may change. To me, that is the crux of blogging. Therefore, it is as worthy of academic attention as anything. After all, if the English graduate students of the eighties can write long dissertations about Star Trek, why can't there also be studies about blogging?

Also, perhaps on a different tack, I guess I want to mention how I've been using Microsoft's One Note a lot lately. Mostly, I use it to write out my thoughts about my research papers, to include snippets of the stuff I am reading, and to do some of the pre-writing that I find necessary to do before I draft my actual paper. While some people might find this a little uptight or downright annoying, compared to the old way I used to do this kind of thing (write everything out on loose sheets of paper I couldn't read or find later), I find this method a little easier. Of course, it makes me think that the real cool use of this program could come from using one of the new-fangled tablet PC's. The ability to write and draw in this program is a little tantalizing, but alas, this remains a financial impossibility for the foreseeable future. Perhaps one day.

Money and Work

This summer has got to be one of the most difficult that I have had in awhile, primarily because I don't have any money, and noone I know has any more that they can lend me. Of course, I could get a job and try to earn some cash to pay all those who have already lent me enough to eat and pay rent, but I really have to finish up some assignments here at school before I can do that. Thankfully, I have enough of he green stuff to make it through the next couple weeks (I think), and that should be all of the time I need to get back on my feet financially and career wise. However, in order to get to that point, I had to close out my savings account this morning--an account that I have had for the past fifteen years. I guess it is no big loss since I can always open a new account when I get money again. There wasn't much money in there anyway.


Stairwell Vertigo

So, I suppose that an update is in order concerning the work that still remains ahead of me to do. Out of three big papers, and two little ones, I have completed one big and will complete at least one small today. Therefore the score looks like this: (3/2 --> 2/1). By next wednesday, I hope to have it all done, except for the final big essay. That essay requires that I spend a lot of time in the library, but I think that I can hand it in that friday (God willing).

Everything I've already written about in previous posts (defeating my personal demons) still applies, Grendel is in the process of being vanquished. Of course, with this new refocusing on my papers, I can't work too much more on Angry Bear Comics for the next week or so. Today, I just posted a new comic that I had already drawn a few days ago, and soon, I will post another that also had already been drawn. I am still committed to making this comic project fly, but I need divert energy to my schoolwork, which is where it is needed most.

Angry Bear Comics

As everyone who reads this blog has heard lately, I am struggling with getting a bunch of work done. Frankly, the pressure is getting to me, but as my last post indicates, I am still trying to tap into the Hero energy and fight through my dark moments, to vanquish Grendel and his minions bare-handed. However, not all of my work involves chaining myself to an office desk so I can type. Some of it involves thinking and digesting the material I am researching. Thus, while thinking about the way Victorians considered the concept of race, or how their concepts of science influenced them (for example), I have returned to another love: drawing. Of course, I can't draw anything terribly elaborate or complicated because that takes another kind of thinking. Thus, I turn to the comic form, a form that lets one draw without thinking too hard while doing it.

Pretty much since the inception of this blog, I have included a link to PvP and Kevin and Kell, cartoons that at one point in time, could only be found on the Internet. I have spent months faithfully reading them, just as I would faithfully seek out the Sunday comics section every weekend as kid reading the paper. However, this is not some kind of weird obsession, just an easy entertainment that distracts when one needs distraction.

When Blogger has introduced there new blogging improvements and released software for posting picture on the web, I began to think to myself: "Hey, how hard can this comic thing be?" (On one level, I am sure it is as hard as you want to make it.) Wouldn't it be fun to see if I could write and draw comics on my own? Therefore, with a few spare minutes doing some after dinner drawing, and a little more tweaking of HTML while watching Late Night with Conan O'Brien, I have created Angry Bear Comics. Don't expect too much. I have taken the position that this is an experiment that just might lead to an enjoyable hobby that helps me de-stress when I need to. Enjoy, if you are so inclined visit, and be sure to leave a comment when you do.

Defeating Grendel

Finally, I have finished the paper that has dogged me for too long, and I can't tell you how happy I am that it is behind me. I am sure that everyone who knows me will be more than glad that I have gotten this ugly thing off of my back, not least of all my professors. After ten months of working with the thing off and on, I can now say that I no longer have to think about the argument, the book which was the topic, or all of the research I did for it ever again!

Of course, this is not to say that the paper is the best thing I have ever written. Far from it, this paper feels more like Frakenstein than anything else, mostly because it is patched together from several abortive attempts. The Frakenstein analogy is oddly appropriate because I have been thinking of monsters for the last couple of weeks.

One of the methods that was suggested to me recently to help get myself motivated to complete all of this needed work was to imagine myself in mythological or heroic terms. Before anyone mentions how silly this sounds (or worse, laughs), please be aware that I am already aware of the silliness inherent in such an imaginative exercise. But, then I got to thinking about it. What was the purpose of the Odyssey, Beowulf, the Illiad, or all of the various tribal stories told in our world's past if not to model to others how to act or get things done? They were their respective societies model's of courage, heroism, and virtue. All of which were things to be emulated.

Primarily, I am thinking of Beowulf. He was a warrior who left his homeland to sail across the sea and fight a horrible monster barehanded. He eventually had to descend under the sea to completely vanquish the terror that plagued the HalfDanes. And even far below the water, struggling with the monster, his initial attempts did not work. The sword bounced harmlessly off the monster's hide. Yet, with some ingenuity, and a nearby sword that only he can wield, he finally defeated it.

It is not too hard to analogize this plot to everyday problem solving. You need courage to face your demons, and sometimes it may feel like you are drowning under an entire ocean when you are struggling fiercest against your troubles. And even as you attack them with what you have in hand, it may not seem like you are getting anywhere. You have to, somehow, reach deep within yourself and draw on something new to make any progress. You have to be persistent, clever, and hard-working. However, if you can do it, the rewards are worth it.

My fight against this round of academic papers are not over yet, but I think I have at least fought off my own Grendel. There are many more monsters ahead, but I now know that I can do it. All I need to remember is how to muster the courage to keep fighting even when I most want to give up. These next few weeks are the most crucial for me and, perhaps, also the most difficult; they are my place under the ocean. But I am determined not to drown.

A Rain Lesson

Thankfully, it rained a little yesterday, and I think it may have happened again tonight. Unfortunately, I was in the office when it happened, but I can't tell you how much it was appreciated, even with just the windows open. The heat around here has been a bit unbearable, so I am going to continue to hope for a rain reprieve. Living in a place where it rains a lot, one begins to miss the downpours like an old friend, especially if it doesn't rain at all for more than three or four weeks straight. You enjoy the cool and clouds as much as possible. Anything else feels different.


Summer Backyard 

I have made some significant progress on my work, even to the point where I am beginning to feel hope again that I will salvage what has been a rough start to the summer. I think that I have a good argument for my current project, it just needs to be solidified a bit more to engage more of the actual text I'm examining and less of the required theory. Of course, the whole point of the silly paper is to talk about the theory, so, to some extent, there is no avoiding it. I think that the project will at least be something that my professor can appreciate.

And, of course, all of this progress has made me feel like I can start thinking about the design for a writing course that I hope to teach in the fall. The main emphasis for this course, if I can somehow make it through these "dog days," will not be on the writing process, as it was in my own undergraduate studies. Rather, the curriculum here emphasizes the necessity for a logical argument that arises naturally from the course materials and the "questions-at-issue" that evolve from class discussions. Therefore, I will really start having to look for well-written essays that I feel will help me guide students to thought provoking issues, and at the same time, be something that will hold my admittedly fleeting (and technologically leaning) interests. Although I have already indicated on my course materials list that I wanted a specific text, a reader, I haven't had much time to browse through the essays and develop the proper notes for them. Oh well, I am sure that this will all come in due time. Right now, it is back to the essay at hand.

Work Continues

I haven't posted much lately, but that is because I'm still working on my papers that I haven't yet finished from the previous term. I'm just about finished with the first paper, and soon, I will be going to the library to start on the second. I believe that once I get this paper done, a paper that has been dogging me for months, the others will go much more quickly. The most difficult thing so far about this first paper has been getting the argument right. I think of it like an old wind-up watch--just when I think I have the first mechanism set perfectly, the other mechanisms twist slightly askew. The minutiae of the work can be frustrating, but I'm sure once it is perfect, I'll finally have the sense of accomplishment I am striving for.


The Library Again 

Aside from my unfinished papers, it has been inordinately hot around here lately. Everyone has been staying up later and later. Tonight, we heard people outside playing with their children at 10:00 p.m. Good Grief! Whatever happened to curfews. Of course, we could also smell their barbeque, which caused a small measure of envy on our part. I suppose that not having BBQ is actually a good thing because, as I have spent the majority of my time behind a desk lately, I haven't gotten much exercise, but as these things goes, my appetite remains at the usual levels. Consequently, my adult male belly has been gently growing outwards with a satisfied reach over my beltline. One of the many goals that I have for the summer is to work out more and to try and get more exercise at the gym. To that generalaim of being more healthy, I have been taking the four flights of stairs up to my office instead of using the elevator in my building. Mind, when I do so, I usually have a twenty pound backpack on and am carrying about ten pounds in the other hand (a laptop and lunch). However, this stair climb may have to stop for the next couple of days. It's hard to concentrate in a hot office when you're a little winded and your shirt is drenched in sweat. Thankfully, as it is summer, none of my officemates have to endure the unique aroma of an out-of-shape coworker.

Motivation

I need some personal motivation right now to get going on some projects that have been left undone for far too long. Right now, I have an opportunity that I do not want to lose. Therefore, this post will help me clarify for myself what it is that I am working for, and how I believe I will achieve that

Winston Churchill says "Kites rise highest against the wind--not with it." Another person, Jane Smiley, said: "In my experience, there is only one motivation and that is desire. No other reasons or principle contain it or stand against it." Other advice I have found suggests that it is helpful to state your goals and envision both the results of your actions and the process you intend to follow to achieve them.

Therefore, the following are my Goals: I will meet all of the deadlines I have previously delineated in a letter for my professor that has already been delivered to her. The deadlines are July 12th, 17th, 21st, 24th, and August 6th. When I turn in the required assignments, I will email my professor immediately. I will follow up on the results of my work during the week of August 9th. These assignments will be high-level work that has been thoroughly researched, understood, and will also be well communicated, highly polished prose. These papers will exhibit a high degree of critical thinking and will be good examples of academic writing.

The Process: I will devote a significant portion, several hours, of every day before the final, ultimate deadline to writing and researching these papers. I will not begin to revise before I have finished drafting. My first step in the writing process will be developing the main features of the argument, so that I have a rough framework to hang my writing on. For each day's preparation, I will try to do ten minutes of free-writing about my thoughts concerning the assigned topic. I will not become bogged down by the extraneous nuances of the work or the argument, but will focus on the crux of every issue. I will use the checklist I have for writing persuasive papers. I will not spend more than thirty minutes on the Internet checking mail, or looking at news. I will review my goals at the beginning of every work day. I will review the results of my effort at the end of every day.

The Results: In September, I will be an interested, high-achieving student who makes a good impression on his professors because of the high quality of his work and intense dedication as a scholar. I will be an accomplished and well-prepared student instructor who assists his freshman students in achieving their goals as writers, and I will supply them with the necessary writing skills to succeed in their future classes. I can see myself in my graduate courses arguing an important and interesting point about our assigned texts. I will have read every text and have all my assignments completed on time. I will be the most-improved student and will achieve some measure of distinction for being so.

Finally, what needs to be mentioned is how, while all of these goals center on my life as a student and future instructor, there are numerous goals concerning my relationship that I haven't mentioned here. For example, among these goals, I will devote the necessary time into being a good partner and take responsibility for my actions and behavior. I will protect the needs of my partner and not impinge too harshly on our needs to be together.

While I may continue to post on my blog from time to time, I will return to these goals and continue to find and develop the necessary motivation to achieve success. Frank Clark says "Everyone is trying to accomplish something big, not realizing that life is made up of little things." Stephen Covey, a guy I normally detest, said "Motivation is a fire from within. If someone else tries to light that fire under you, chances are it will burn briefly." That is something that I can agree with. Overall, the message for me is that I have to find the desire to succeed inside myself; I have to return to that desire often and use it as kindling to spark my individual efforts every day. And, I need to accept the responsibility of my actions so that I am not distracted by what could have been, but focus on what can be, and what will be if I work for it.

A New Hope

Today, I had a meeting with my professor to work out a plan where I could finish up work that I had not completed during last term. I think that everything may be able to work out after all, but I have to admit that I was really worried about it. In a lot of ways, I think that the worry about it made it more difficult to actually buckle down and get what I needed to done. However, even though it was somewhat embarrassing to try and explain why I haven't been able to turn things in on time, I feel a little better. It's not everyday that someone's car is stolen. That can really put a damper on your ability to concentrate and get things done.


The quad 

As far as a status report goes, I am nearly finished with the first major paper that needs to be completed. I have chosen a particular short story by Tim O'Brien, and I want to argue that his desire to create a "story-truth"--something that is achieved by the story "feeling" true, rather than actually "seeming" true--is an attempt to control how the reader responds to his text. While this is not necessarily bad, it is reflection of Bakhtin's description of the centripetal and centrifugal forces in the text. On the one hand, O'Brien tries to assert a particular meaning, on the other hand, the text itself tries to spin that meaning beyond what he intends. It is a little convoluted right now, but I think that with a little more work over the weekend, I will have a decent enough paper to turn in be acceptable.

Cleaning House and Cable

So today, we cleaned the house making it look fairly decent. At least decent enough for the Comcast cable guy to come back and install the other room outlets like I had asked him to a week ago. As we live in student housing, when the cable guy arrived the first time, he did not want to drill into the wall without explicit written permission from the main student housing office; and at the time, I did not want to get dressed and try and convince this guy, who was obviously in a tremendous hurry, to wait about half and hour while I sorted things out. A day later, when I mustered the required mental and emotional resources to deal with the hassle, I got the required permission from the college, called the cable company back, and complained. Turns out the first cable guy was not an official company person, but a contractor. This explains why he was in such a hurry to get out of here and do other work. He was probably working on comission.

And that's not all. I have a separate Internet package with the same company, and installing the modem myself has been a pain in the neck. Although I've done everything correctly, the Internet will only work occasionally. You're taking your chances at our place if you really want to be on the Net. Right now, it's more of an Inter-not! So, tomorrow, I will wait for another cable (modem) guy to figure out what the heck is going on. As near as I can figure, the problem is an inordinate amount of FCC type of interference. Why else would the thing work better at night. Coincidentally, there are less wavy lines in the TV programs at night as well. And I'm stumped where the possible interference could be coming from. I've imagined everything from cable theives tapping into our line here at home to some student operating a HAM radio in his apartment trying to conduct conversations with China. Hey, it could happen. We'll see what happens this afternoon.

Update: Well, the hassle continues. The cable guy could not install the outlets for a reason I only half understand. The guy who was here a few minutes ago told me that he could do what I wanted for a whole lot more money. To say that I'm frustrated by the whole cable process is an extreme understatement. I hate feeling like I'm paying for a service that I don't receive. Why do corporations think that they can do this?

Not a Photo-Blog: Part II

Happy fourth of July! After a slow start in the morning trying work out some various Internet issues, I got in my car and returned to the office to work on my paper. I am currently sitting in the ugly orange chair from a previous picture of my cave-like office. I am just taking a very small break from my paper to report to any readers I have out there that I am still around, but just not as able to post because of the work. Therefore, as time is short, I present another picture:


The Burden of Books 

This picture is of the books that I have stacked on my desk right now. Soon, I will have to clear them off, as I may be reassigned a new office for the fall. I really shouldn't be spending so much time here, especially on the holiday, but I've been a grouch lately and a real pain to those around me. I'm sure that they need the break. And I really have to get this paper done. Therefore, right now I'm going to turn to another stack of books similar to the one pictured, reopen my word processor program, and like an alaskan sled dog, continue to mush.

Not a Photo-Blog

This is not a photoblog, I promise. I am still planning on writing more entries and having more things to say here, but as I am busy working on projects for school, I figured that taking about ten minutes to make another post would not hurt anything. I need a bit of a mental rest. I also figured that I need to let the blog readers know that I haven't disappeared somewhere into the aether known as cyberspace.


My Building! 


My Desk! 

The first picture is of the building where I spend the majority of my time away from home. In fact, this is pretty much the view I have when I am walking from car in the parking lot behind me, towards the desk which is the focus of the second picture. My desk happens to be the one with the orange chair. If it doesn't look comfortable, that is because it isn't, but as I have said before, the office is a good place to work because it is relatively free from distractions and not nearly as crowded as the library. Until next time!

Work Continues

This is the real crunch time for me. Despite some personal problems, I really need to finish up the papers that have been dogging me for the last several days. According to a letter I just received, I may only have until the middle of August. Things may not be as bleak as I once thought, but they are definitely as serious. Nothing is really guaranteed. So, as work still continues, I figured I would post a picture of the place where I will be spending most of my time during the next several days: the library.


The Library 

The library is a decent enough place with some good places to study, although I prefer working in my office because there is usually less people. However, according to one of the professors here, the library is where all graduate students should live in order to do the research that is required of them. For undergraduates, he says that since they should learn how to love reading, their time should be spent in a comfortable chair or study space. If I had to do graduate school all over again from the beginning, I would do so many things differently. But things being as they are, I suppose that the only thing to do is to immerse myself in work and stay immersed until it is done, even if I feel like I am drowning.

Another Quick Post

According to blogger, it has been about 12 days since my last post, so I figured I would take a quick break from work to post this picture of the office plants. None of them are mine, although I was bequeathed an African Violet by an officemate who is leaving to teach Folklore in Iowa. I think that the ivy plant would look better hung up along the edges of the wall, but because this office gets very little light in the corners, it would probably condemn the plant to death.


The office plants! 

I've got some other pictures that I've taken recently around campus that I will eventually put on the web, but for the time being, this is it. Until next time, which if I don't get caught up on this work soon, could be awhile.

Notes for my Seminar Paper

Partially because I have not posted here in awhile, and partially because my research notes are a little spread out while I have been frantically trying to finish up my Spring term here at the University, I am going to post some brief notes about the seminar paper for my figures class. I know I can always find them here, a place where they won't be lost. Also, I need to translate them from the hurried notes I made in paper during my earlier meeting with the professor into actual print before the float away back into the ether of unremembered thoughts.

Kenneth Burke, a rhetorician(?), talks about four master tropes: metaphor, metonymy, synecdoche, and irony. He does not create a new typology of figures like past rhetoricians (Cicero, Longinus, Puttenham) because he feels that every figure, which could have potentially infinite separate names, spring from these four basic types. There seems to be some kind of correlation, if a distant one, to Giambattista Vico who had postulated that, before early humans had language, there were four major mental figures that were the foundation of the rest of the figures commonly identified. Whereas Vico seems to be doing some kind of anthropology through the study of figures, I think Burke avoids theorizing about language origins the way Vico does.

In any event, broadly speaking Metaphor identifies one thing for another (A=B), Metonymy has one thing that is part of a whole ( B (A)), Synecdoche has one thing result from another (A --> B), and Irony has one thing that does not equal the other (A =/= B).

After talking with the professor about my idea, which has to do with hyperlinking, he suggests that I should get at Burke's purposes for proposing these four tropes. I should tell why these four tropes are something that is useful--the "correspondences in drawing out those tropes and larger issues. Specifically, I should address "perspective, reduction, representation, and dialectics." I should "talk about these four substitutions, which represents different perspectives from which to work.

As for myself, is there anything I can do with 1337 speak? Can I do anything with the forms of certain websites, especially blogs themselves. This might have to be looked into and thought about more. Is there something about RSS feeds, or a general kind of aggregation?

The Professor, (aka Dr. Brown Shoes), recommended that I review the essays that were presented in class very carefully, offering his caveat that I Burkian study can be particular hard. Yet, I am hoping that my rudimentary knowledge of the Net will help all this study go more easily; think "spoonful of sugar." Now, I am going to check out the required Burke books, after a little more research into the appropriate journal articles. Just as a friendly note, this might be the last blog for a week or more; the seminar papers will always take precedence.

Another Picture

This not much a post really. I took the photo you see a couple of weeks ago, but I have only just now got it uploaded on to my laptop. As the caption says, it is picture from the fourth floor of my office, a dank little dungeon like cave that I share with six other people. Trust me, it is not even as glamorous as I just described it. However, it is an office, and as such, a nice place to do some homewrok and grade some papers without being disturbed too much.


This is the view from my fourth floor office! 

Lord help anyone who tries to study in the library. Even though everyone whispers, it is just too crowded during the middle of the day. Anyway, the two large victorian type buildings in the back are a ocuple of Greek houses, and the low squat building close to the front right are the local university slums, aka quads. Oh, and parking here is terrible. If you're not at school insanely early in the morning, you may as well go home and walk to school, because you're sure not going to find any parking, and it will likely take the same amount of time.

Patusan and the South Pacific

Okay I have read the rest of the book (Lord Jim), and the events are a little more clear now. First, I should say that Jim did not go to trial separate from the other crew. The German captain was also tried and found guilty. The consequences of their actions resulted in the loss of the licenses that allows them to be merchant marine officers. Therefore, Jim is not distinguished from the other crew members. The narrator, Charlie Marlow, concerns himself primarily with Jim's character because he wants to solve "the problem" of Jim's character and find out what makes him think the way he does. The question is important for Marlow because he frequently mentions how Jim was "one of us." Here is my best summation, and interpretation of what happens next:

Jim, devastated by the loss of his license, and the knowledge that he acted cowardly in the Patna incident, take various jobs working on behalf of shipping companies. However, he only works at these jobs until the point people discover his involvement in the Patna episode, upon which he leaves for another port to find another job. These series of exiles continue until, ironically, everyone seems to know about his past making it impossible to run away from it anymore.

At this point, Marlow intervenes and finds Jim a job with shipping company run by a mysterious man named Stein. Stein appoints Jim to a post on the Island of Patusan, an island inhabited by the previous company representative, a Portuguese man named Cornelius, and the native inhabitants--South Pacific Islanders who, thanks to an Arab foreigner, are apparently all Muslim. Jim distinguishes himself to such an extent that he becomes the virtual King of the Island. He, with the blessing of a particular chief, makes war on the other villages and succeeds in uniting the Island under his rule. As one of the only white men on the Island, Jim attains a mythic, almost God-like status among the villagers. And of course, Cornelius has a daughter that falls in love with Jim, so Jim takes her for his native wife. Jim names her Jewel.

Jim, living in this Island as a virtual King and God, seems to have escaped the humiliation of his past. Until, one day, when pirates show up and start killing people. The tribes turn to Jim for help, so Jim arranges for the pirates to leave without a fight through negotiation. But the pirates, jealous of Jim's power and stung at having been repulsed by mere villagers, seek revenge. Before they leave, the pirates attack a native outpost killing the chief's son. The chief, horrified and disconsolate, now knowing that Jim is not some kind of super-being, kills Jim as a kind of retribution. End of novel.

The implication throughout all of this is that Jim's basic problem is that he is a romantic. He persecutes himself over the Patna episode and exiles himself from Western Society. It is his sense of Romance that impels him to send the pirates away rather than kill them outright. And it is his sense of romance that leads him to face the chief at the end of the story, where he might know (I'm not sure) that he will be killed. Jewel accuses him of knowingly leaving her, and in a sense, he does.

The interesting connection here for me is the fact that the people he abandoned on the Patna and the people of Patusan are all Muslim. In the first instance, Jim left them to die what he assumed would be a certain death. In the second instance, he defends the Muslims against the whites and faces a death that he feels he should have faced on the Patna. This may be why Jim feels him must face the chief, rather than escape. It is romantic because he must think it courageous to face death, especially over an issue of honor: he must think it is honorable to account for his role in the chief's loss.

Of course, it should be remembered that throughout this novel are most of the 19th century prejudiced assumptions about race combined with their belief in the inherent superiority of white western peoples. For me, that Jim becomes a local god among the natives smacks of the insidious paternalism that is one of the disgusting features of racism; this kind of thinking goes along the lines of, "These people are such children. Obviously, they need my help." Of course, while the novel, or Marlow as the narrator, may suggest that Jim is helping the natives acheive success until the moment the chief's son is killed, what Jim is really doing is using the native for his own purposes. He is absolving himself of the guilt he feels. Like Ophelia says, he is no hero.

The Patna

I'm halfway through Lord Jim, Joseph Conrad's ambiguous novel about the exploits of Jim, a sailor experiencing shame and remorse for his actions aboard the Patna. I say ambiguous because it is rather uncertain what he has done to feel so ashamed about. Here's what I think I know so far:

Jim is a mate on the ship Patna, transporting approximately 800 Muslim pilgrims to Mecca. While in the red sea, they hear a bang, and Jim investigates. He finds a large bulge in the bulk head an immediately knows that the ship is going to sink. What's more, he knows that they do not have nearly enough life boats for the amount of people currently on board. The "white" crew members, including the German captain, scramble to release the life boats without the pilgrims waking up. Jim, who has delusions about being a hero, jumps into one of the lifeboats, but he is taking the place of another white man who has already had a heart-attack, and so is dead, but Jim doesn't know this.

(I'm not sure why it is wrong for him to jump in the lifeboat with other crew, aside from the fact he is leaving 800 people to die on the ship, but then so is the rest of the crew. The reason it appears to be bad is because he took the other man's place.)

Suddenly, a storm comes upon them, and the frantic scrambling to get off the boat becomes more frantic because the crew, Jim especially, knows that a swell will sink the boat for sure. However, even though the white crew members see the lights go out on the ship and tell themselves that the Patna has sunk, a French ship comes upon the boat and tugs it to harbor. Jim faces trial for some reason.

However, why Jim faces trial separate from the other men is a little confusing to me. From what I understand, the other crew is just a guilty as he is. If it is because he took another man's place in the life boat because he was scared, I don't see why he should face trial for that. The real trial seems to be in Jim's own mind. He, rather than being a hero, convicts himself of being a coward because he thought of himself first, and did not do anything to prevent what he assumed would be the assured death of 800 human beings. I'll finish the rest of the book tonight. However, if anyone has any comments or opinions that would clarify this situation, I'd greatly appreciate it.

Recovery

Yesterday afternoon, the police called to say that they found my car. They asked if I could meet them where my car was found in fifteen minutes. They said that I would be able to avoid the towing fees that would be applied for an impound if I could be there quickly. The previous night, I had spent about an hour regretting the loss of my car and wondering if there was anything I could have done. I no longer wished for vengeance like I had in the previous post. I didn't want to drive a loaner car. And I didn't want to have deal with the increased insurance fees that certainly accrue. I simply missed my car.

My heart jolted hearing that it had been found. Since I was already working on the computer and was already on the internet, I surfed over to Yahoo Maps and found the address that the cops indicated where I would find my car. It was less than three blocks away in the parking lot of another apartment complex. When I got there, there were two cop cars and four officers standing around laughing about something. I approached them.

One of the officers was the same guy who took the initial report on Friday morning, Officer G-----. Officer G----- asked me if the car sitting in the corner of the lot was mine. There it was. It was in the furthest lot away from the road, completely out of sight behind a fenced-in garbage bin. Another car parked next to it had the passenger side window broken out of it and covered with plastic. I identified my car for Officer G----- and inspected the inside of it. Although the inside of the car was a mess, the result of the thieves searching for something of value (and not finding anything), nothing appeared to have been stolen or damaged. Even the change in the ashtray remained. "What'd I tell you," officer G---- smiled, "I knew we'd find it intact." He was also right about it still being in the neighborhood. He said that on Friday when he took the report.

When the other cop car pulled away, and me and Officer G----- went over to his car to fill out another evidence report. I asked him if he knew who took it. He said that he didn't. I signed the report, a copy of which he gave me this time, started my car, and left. About an hour and a half later, feeling curious, I returned to lot to inspect the apartment buildings surrounding the area. I saw that there was still a police car in the lot. Maybe the thieves were still around. Not wanting to get too much more involved, I left--this time for good.

I spent about a half hour driving my car and wondering what I should do next. My girlfriend says that it really does not make much sense to invest in any security features because it is unlikely that the car will be stolen twice (relying, of course, on probability). Furthermore, any investment on my car should be applied towards making it run better. I'd really like to have a trunk monkey, but a nicely worded letter would get about as much return as anything else.

Dear Mr. Thief,
If you steal this car again, I will pee on your cornflakes and shave off your eyebrows. Don't think it won't happen. Me and the Dali Lama are surveilling this alleyway, and while I know kung fu, he can shoot lasers out of his eyeballs. Plus, he turns green when he's angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry.

I guess I still feel pretty weird about the whole episode. It turned my weekend upside down, and now I realize that I'll always worry about my car being stolen. I also realize that there may never be any answers or explanations for why this has happened. I can speculate that it was one guy or two, that it was fraternity prank, or desperate action of a hungry, homeless man. I can waste time guessing, but I have to admit that I may never know who did it or why. As I have already called my insurance company, there'll be more on this situation later.

Stolen!

Last night, sometime between 6:00 p.m. and 7:00 a.m., my car was stolen. It's rather hard to believe that someone wants a fifteen year old car that runs like a lawnmower in a rock quarry, but there it is--or isn't I guess I should say. (According to this website, my make of car is the third most frequently stolen, and so is the year, and the color. Third place all around! Here's fun, try a find if your car is on the list! Yay! I kind of wish I knew this beforehand.)

Initially, I was stunned and stood stupidly looking for it in the gravel lot where it had been parked. Although I feel I am a rational person, I had to admit that I felt some initial self-doubt. Could I really trust myself that I had parked where I said I did? Did I drive home yesterday, or did I take the bus? Slowly, the details came back to me. No, I remember checking to make sure that I locked it, even circling the car to check the doors.

When I called the police, I said: "I can't find my car." The shock had not yet sunk in. They, being used to the bad behaviour of individuals, quickly helped me realize that it was stolen, and not merely missing or inadvertantly towed. Apparently, there's a State (or city?) database that tracks all of the tows that had been made within a certain period. If it had been towed, then they would know. My car was not on that list.

They said they were sending an officer over to talk to me. It took forever for the cops to show up, like they always do when you've been the victim or witness to something like this. While I waited, I tried shutting out the rest of the world so I could grasp the reality of my stolen car. It was hard for me to concentrate on other things. Consequently, I needed to go back inside my apartment and sit on the couch.

When the cop arrived, he introduced himself and asked if he could have a seat. "How are you doing today, sir?" he said. "I've had better days" was my depressed reply. He sat at the kitchen table and began filling out a form (a police report?) that was on goldenrod paper. I gave him my identifying information and my driver's license. He asked: "Does anyone have permission to drive your car?" Immediately, I thought of a COPs show scenario where they have pulled over some guy in stolen car who is mildly complaining that he was a "friend" of mine and I gave him permission to drive the car. He asked me if there was anything distinguishing about the car, and I told him that I couldn't think of anything off-hand. (I should have said something like: "Distinguishing how? You mean other than the fact that it is fifteen-year-old piece of crap?")

He asked me for the VIN#; I couldn't find my title, and the theif, of course, had my registration. Fortunately, I dug up my insurance policy which had some information on it. I sat at the table and listened to the cop tell me stories about how they almost always recover the car. This was heartening. "I personally," he said, "found twenty four cars myself. There was a car stolen from a lot near here that we found just recently." I asked him how long he thought it might take to find my car. It seemed a reasonably, if overly hopeful, question to ask at the time. He said, "You can't tell. I could drive out of here right now and find it in five minutes." He said that many times theives don't drive the ill-gotten cars very far, perhaps only a few miles or just a few blocks.

After more clear-headed reflection, I realized that I unconsciously supposed that the cop was going to automatically fix the situation and that my car would magically return by his very presence. I wanted, needed, to believe him about recovering the cars--and partially, I did. Of course after he left, I realized that he did not leave a copy of the police report, nor did he leave a business card. Hell, I didn't even know his name. I took this as evidence of the fact that such happenings are routine for him, and his offered assurances were perhaps more mechanical than genuine.

And then, once the cop was gone, I was left with the decision about what I should do for the rest of the day. Obviously, I was going to have to call my insurance company and make some kind of claim. And obviously, I was going to have to call the Police department for the police report. Once I had time to think more clearly, I recognized that there were a lot of others things I could have told the cop about my car--there are scratches on the windshield from the time I tried to shovel snow off the front it with a broken shovel, there are student parking stickers on the bumper, there are (as my girlfriend reminded me) a couple of ancient and petrified french fries underneath the seats. My decision was that I was going to do what I originally planned on doing. There's nothing else I really could do.

I'm still angry about this (although not as strongly as this morning when I first discovered my car was gone.) I should have the right to park in any legal space. Hell, I should have the right to park in an illegal space with the expectation that I'll be fined heavily and towed, but that my car will not be stolen. Although not much money to some, I paid about $6000 dollars for that car. I spent countless hours working at a job I hate to get it.

Briefly, I had a contradictory feelings: I want to get my car back, and I somehow want my car to rise up against them. Will the steering go out at a critical moment, or perhaps the brakes will stop working. If they use as a getaway car for a crime, perhaps the car will not start when they are trying to effect an escape. Mostly, I suppose I really want justice. I want whoever did this to stand trial, and if proven guilty, to go to jail. I want them to feel bad about taking something that wasn't theirs. So far, I've decided to take meager consolation from the fact that along with my car, they've also stolen a couple of ancient french fries and an empty McDonald's bag. It's not much, but it's the only thing I've got at the moment.

The Tables have Turned

I suppose that I have no right to complain. After all, this is probably just a taste of my own medicine. What the heck am I talking about? Keep reading.

Not many people know that I have had to take incompletes for the first courses I took in graduate school. It wasn't something that I sought out, but rather a necessary consequence of the difficult adjustments that I was undergoing during that time. I know that I have a tendency to lament the amount of work that I typically have to do for school. However, the first term really was a bit of a shock. Fortunately, I was able to finish up one of the incompletes last term. Now, there is only one other left.

But, time is getting short. I absolutely must have this incomplete resolved in the next three weeks. Add to this project, which is a full-blown seminar paper, I have two other seminar papers due within the same time frame--papers that will require a staggering amount of research and work in the next couple of weeks.

So what about today? Today, I was to receive the rough draft of my seminar paper for the course that is still incomplete. However, when I met with him during his assigned office hours, the professor admitted to me that he did not have it done. Despite his promise to read it, despite his assurances that he would have it ready for me last week, despite our other conversations about how necessary it is for me to finish this up--he did not have it done. He said that it was still sitting on his desk at home.

His explanation was that his wife has just recently had a baby within the last two months and that he has been busy assisting with the kid. It is very easy to see that he is a happy father, a proverbial "proud papa." I understand this. I have turned in too many late papers to frustrated professors not to know how life can sometimes reach up and smack you in the face sometimes.

And yet, it is hard not to feel increasingly apprehensive about the prospect of getting this paper completed in the next couple of weeks. I sincerely hope he follows through with his promise to conduct an e-mail appointment with me over the weekend. If not, I'm afraid I'll have find out where he lives and call him at home. Not quite the proper protocol for a grad student, but, hey--I'm getting desperate here.

1000 words

In a move that will probably be unnoticed by anyone except a handful, I finally figured out how to post pictures to my blog. It has been over a year, but it's done. And I really couldn't be happier. Of course, this means that I will have to start taking some pictures, and do to that, I need to get my hands on a digital camera. I'm still a word nerd at heart, so don't expect too much in the photograph department, especially for now. However, once I get the expendable income and the expendable time, I plan on playing around with this new picture ability for some time. Bless you Blogger.


Photographs are here! Now, I can get funky!
Posted by Hello

By the way, while I'm here, if you can please take the time to answer the poll at the bottom right hand side of this page, I would be much obliged. There are some new templates that are awfully attractive. I've also discovered that while I use a handful of links in the columns a lot, some of the information appears to be redundant. That is, unless of course, you guys think that it has some value. In any event, if I do change the template, I'd probably keep most of the side stuff anyway. We'll see. But, please, if you see this, please vote. Thanks in advance.

Lessons and Lessened

The internet is not just a place for e-mail, instant message, news, or culture. It has it dark places too--the least of which, but probably the most familiar, is the presence is pornography. It is these other places that I worry about most. Adults, who take seriously the ability to think critically and be responsible members of society, absolutely must decide what they stand for, so they can make decisions about their own morality.

One of the darker sides of the Internet revealed itself with the web broadcasting on Tuesday of the horrific killing of an American contractor in Baghdad. Although I am consciously, and very deliberatively, abstaining from the too-often-poisonous political rhetoric that infects public discussion of the war, I feel I must add my voice to the others who have near-universally condemned this barbarity. No-one, regardless of politics, or even previous atrocities, should have to die this way. The torture (not abuse) of Iraqi soldiers is reprehensible, but so is the killing of hostages. The colloquialism holds up: two wrongs do not make a right.

What has perturbed me today are the various sites--sites which I will not even refer to in the slightest way--that are mirroring the graphic video. While surfing on a particular site and reading the usual political commentary surrounding this tragic event, I was shocked to discover that people, primarily young men, have rooted out the footage and are seeing for themselves. And there are more than a few places that are hosting this, for lack of a better word, satanic video.

Aside from a few individuals infected by a diseased love for violence, there are some people who argue that the footage needs to be seen, that we must be a witness to happens in war, so once everyone is sickened by these atrocities, society will change for the better.

I disagree.

While it is sometimes necessary to be a witness to violent acts--such as the brutal effects of war on society, famines caused by greed or embargoes, or genocidal acts like the Killing Fields in Cambodia, Germany, and Rwanda--it is not necessary to see these kind of acts for the healing light of public exposure to root out the perpetrators of such acts, and so that justice can be fair but not willfully ignorant or blind.

Justice should be the primary motivating purpose here. Was it justice for the allies in World War Two to reveal the previously hidden genocide against the Jews, which was perpetrated by the Nazis? Did we need to expose the brutality of those acts to a disbelieving global public? Yes, I believe it was. Would it serve justice to see this footage of the American’s death? No, I do not believe it would be.

I will not see the video now or ever.

I am making a choice based on my own sense of morality, which is derived from my own sense of justice. This is precisely what I am arguing everyone on the Internet must do, right now. You don’t want to be the person who stumbles into one of these dark corners of the Internet and see this video, piqued by your curiosity, not thinking of the consequences. There are some things that you can not un-see. Take seriously the words of an individual who, by his own confession in the public comments of the site I mentioned, has watched it: “I am lessened for having seen it.”

Rain and Architecture

Rain. Nothing but rain all day, but it fits my mood lately. After class today, I intended to turn in some paperwork to the administration building. But once at the front counter, after a ten minute walk across campus, I discovered that I forgot the paperwork I needed, which was still on my desk. I had accidently left it there this morning. Consequently, I ate a brief, and unhealthy, lunch on that side of town.

As it was raining hard, drenching the grimy sidewalks and flooding the barkdust surrounding the school's decorative irises, when it came time to walk back, I decided I would make my way through the other buildings. Normally, I would have stuck the sidewalks. I wish I had the expendable income for a decent digital camera and a reliable image host because I would post my impressions of the walk on this blog--perhaps one day. I discovered that I work in probably the most ugly building on campus. Some of the entry ways of these other buildings are truly beautiful, and most have an inner courtyard that looks really inviting. Also, there is a character in the older buildings that is entirely missing from the 60's disaster where I am currently ensconced.

Now, I am stationed in my office where I will spend the better part of the evening. With the exception of meeting some English 104 students who are unhappy with their grades, most of what I have planned for tonight is reading and grading mid-terms from the aforementioned class. But to prevent dullness of spirit and my eyes from glazing over, I think I will take another walk before it gets dark. Probably around dinner-time.

Re-visions and Returns

More than ten years ago, I worked at a factory that made printed circuit boards. The quick summary on that long story is I hated it, but didn't think that I had much opportunity to do anything else. I now consider it my first introduction to how the class system works in this country, but back then I saw it as a certain type of fate. The one good memory that I have of the place is when me and few of my coworkers, also working-class grunts, went out in the parking lot at two a.m. to get a good look at comet hyakutake. It was bright, the tail was long, the break from the horrendous work we were doing was refreshing, and the fact that the comet shone against the stars over a darkened field of tall grasses and weeds made the experience memorable.

But, as I mentioned before, the work was terrible. Twelve hour days, low pay, and frequent exposure to harsh chemicals and the occasional x-ray, which is above and beyond the petty office politics that must occur in every job, was an angle grinder on my soul. The prospect of it continuing felt like a condemnation. To adopt the discourse of recovery, I "had a moment of clarity" when I was hanging half out of chemical etcher scraping out the organic residue that grew like a grimy ring in a bathtub. The hydrochloric acid seeped into my gloves and stung my skin, the gas mask made it hot and difficult to breath and also cut into my neck. And being on my knees for about an hour, half bent over the lip of the machine made my back stiff. My earlier fantasies of going to college returned with the force of determination. Consequently, I enrolled at a local community college and began the path to where I currently am, a grad student with the goal of one day teaching college English and Literature courses.

The community college experience was almost one of religious conversion. Not only was it a tremendous contrast from the factory, but I soon found that it was truly something that I enjoyed doing. I discovered that my most enjoyable classes were the English and Writing courses. Going to the small buildings in the shade at the edge of the campus to take those courses was a genuine pleasure. I first read Hamlet, discovered my love of writing, and was able to approach language from the new perspective of having a voice, something to say. At work, no-one cared what I thought because I was hired to either be told what to do or tell others what to do. There was hardly a thing that I did not enjoy learning at the community college.

Several years later, I am a graduate student who may soon teach college writing courses rather than take them. But today--May 7th--I am actually back on the same campus. I walked around looking at how some things have changed and think about the past upon seeing the old rooms and buildings. Perhaps one day in the future, I may have the opportunity to teach here. I think it would be wonderful to give that back to the spirit of life, to be able to help other students who may be stuck in jobs or life circumstances that they hate, and help them discover their own talents, and somehow find within themselves an ability to pull themselves out of the compressing circles of misery.

I even happened to meet a friend and former classmate from my undergraduate university, G----. (I think I am going to adopt the 19th century Victorian mode of referring to people's names by the first letter.) G---- took a job here as a counselor, helping middle school and high school students see college as an option for them by taking them on tours of local unversity campuses. G---- and I caught each other up on what we had been doing since the year we last saw each other. In a weird way, G---- was impressed that I had gone to graduate school, and I was impressed that he had a job in an academic setting, especially a college that may want to teach at myself. I had always admired G---- for what I considered to be his moral integrity. Although much more has happened today, I suppose the lesson that I am going to take from it is that presents you with opportunities, and you, somehow, begin the process of sorting them out. Perhaps I still believe in fate, but I also believe that if you live your life with good intentions and effort at having some purity of heart, life will bless you in ways you don't expect. So while there may be fate, there are no "real" curses--not for those intentionally trying to do their best to be a good person.

School and Taxes

I've paid my taxes, and thank goodness that they're all done. Normally, I would have taken them to a tax preparer and said "take whatever money you want, just get the darn thing faraway from me." However, my girlfriend persuaded me that my former approach was ridiculously extravagant, especially since my taxes are ridiculously easy. Consequently, we used the turbotax program that she had on her computer. It still cost about 25$ to file electronically, but overall, turbotax was a relatively painless experience. Maybe next time around, I should buy the program myself and have it installed on my own computer. A basic Quicken program was something that came with my new laptop, and, I have to say, I really think it's a really handy program to have. As a person, who has a lot of hangups with money, I think I'm beginning to relax about it a little.

School continues as always and I'm still behind in work, but what else is new? On Tax day, I sat in the back of class to watch the instructor I TA for try desperately to capture the utterly bored students' attention. He wasn't succeeding. In fact, one of the students near where I was sitting was actually doing her own taxes during the lecture. I watched her looking up information in the tax tables, and presumably filling out the short form. I admit I was impressed that she seemed to both start and finish her taxes all within class time. It's kind of amazing what students will do when they're bored in a large class of 100 students. They don't think the professor can see, or really cares (which he probably doesn't). Close to where I usually sit, two guys normally have their laptops open, and one of the students this last time was developing a website, presumably for a project in his computer science class. English professors who are a certain age are the worst with technology. Half of the time, they're not sure how to get the lights in the classroom to turn on. Usually, when I enter the classroom, which is always five minutes before the professor, I make sure to turn them on and raise the projector screen. Otherwise, the professor would spend about ten minutes looking for the buttons and asking if everyone can see in the dark. Although, I guess I should stop, because judging from the students' interest, those ten minutes might be the only amusing thing in class.

Dinars for Sale

The other night me and my girlfriend were watching television and saw Iraqi bank notes for sale on a home shopping channel. These, apparently, are the old notes with Saddam Hussein's picture on them. (From a site that lists the bank notes of various countries.) Normally, I don't like to share my personal politics on the web, but I have to say that selling these things as mementos causes me feel a little uncomfortable.

On the one hand, I can understand the desire to have a personal connection to a historical event, or some other kind of personal experience that one wants to remember. After all, why does one take photographs of special occasions, or buy cheap souvenirs while on vacation if not to have a tangible reminder of something one wants to remember. My grandparents have kept a newspaper from 1969, the day astronauts landed on the moon, and I admit to thinking that it was somewhat cool when I saw it. On the other hand, in certain circumstances, the kind of mementos that come from difficult or tragic experiences could cheapen the original event somehow. Not many people are comfortable with political officials taking rubble from the trade center as mementos of September Eleventh, although it has already happened. I think that buying Iraqi dinars from a home shopping network to remember the Iraqi War has similar shades. Many horrible things have occurred during the war, and many people have died. Whether a hunk of rock or an Iraqi dinar, my sense is that it eventually boils down to the same thing.

I'm still ambivalent about this, but I guess I think it depends on one's personal connection to the event. If you were personally and directed impacted by the tragic events in question, then if having a memento or a souvenir helps your mourning process, I see no problem. But, if your goal is capture a bit of history by collecting something you can hold in your hand or place on your desk, then please move on to beanie babies, snow globes, or traditional antiques. Let the dead rest in peace.

Password: The Simpsons

A difficult term is now over, and with the cliched "promise of spring," I am looking forward to the new beginnings ahead of me. I have two new classes that I have not fallen behind in yet, and I have a new professor to TA for. Soon, however, things will pick up again, and once again, I'll have to confront the same issues, but with fresh mental armor and a new plan of attack.

Dr. Brown Shoes is now my instructor for my seminar in "Figures of Speech," and Dr. Too-tall teaches my "Science in 19th century American Literature" seminar. Both have written or edited texts that we are using in the course, which is something that I'm not sure how I feel about. On the one hand, I am getting information from knowledgeable people who are able to write an entire book about their subjects as they have obviously invested a significant amount of their careers in research and study. On the other hand, buying texts that they themselves have written is putting money in their pocket, in addition to the money paid for the class. Could be a conflict of interest, don't you think? Mostly, as the texts are relatively inexpensive, I feel okay about it, I think.

Dr. Khaki-pants is the professor who I TA for. In some ways, I feel sorry for the guy. He is unusual among most of the other professors in that he lectures for the full class hour. Most of the younger professors usually stop to have a class discussion or ask extensive questions. Today, he tried to point out the joke in a nineteenth century gothic novel. The irony, apparently, is that the scary, eerie stuff occurs during the day time. Illustrating a specific scene, the professor described how the main character slowly opens a chest placed at the foot of her bed expecting to see something truly horrifying. Instead, she peers inside and sees. . .gasp!. . .a counterpane. Here, the professor looked up expecting to see and hear the students' uproarious laughter. Instead, he got the bored stares of people who couldn't possibly have the slightest idea what a counterpane is. If he had told them that a counterpane was essentially a blanket, they might have gotten the joke and indulged his expectation a little, but just a little. He also tries to connect to his students by inserting passing references to The Simpsons within his lectures, but he uses the references like a secret password, expecting that the students will automatically connect to him if he demonstrates that he happens to know who Homer Simpson is. He means well.

As for future postings, I expect I'll be able to post more often for the next couple of weeks because it is the beginning of spring term and, like I said, I've got a fresh start. We'll see what happens around week seven or eight.