Well, I didn't plan on it but it seems that I have taken a month long, winter break, sabbatical. I won't go into any details about it here because it is too personal. Suffice it to say that I haven't been doing too well personally. I've had to go through some major life changes, especially within the last two days. These are the kinds of things that stay with a person for a long time. And even though I never seem to stop saying it here on the blog, I really am going to be super busy for the next few weeks. The reason: I am finally going to complete my unfinished school work. Everything is on the line.
On another note, today is my birthday. I don't normally come up with new year's resolutions because I am thinking about B'day kinds of things, so I am too distracted. But this year, I think I will try to go to the gym more often, learn to cook, develop my webcomic more, be more reliable, and generally be more consistent and confident as a person. Oh, and I will finish all of my school work. This summer and fall will be very interesting regardless of anything I do.
Monday, January 03, 2005
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Finals
So this will be a very quick post just to let everyone know that I am knee-deep in work right now trying to slog the last of the term's papers. It is amazing how work these silly things can be, and perhaps the most frustrating thing about writing papers is that no matter how many of them I write, they never get any easier to do. In fact, sometimes, they are considerably harder. Of course, this could be due to a variety of reasons: my personality, the course level, the increasing demands of professors, etc.
Currently, I am working a paper for No-No Boy by John Okada. I think that it is a great book and could probably give a pretty good formalistic (note: jargon) reading of the book without doing any extra research. But of course, research is absolutely required, so the desk in my office is slathered in academic papers that only a handful of people have ever really read. But, I am not complaining. Last year, I wrote a thirty page bibliography for research I had done for my first graduate level paper. It was one of the most challenging things I had ever done, but I was glad I did it. I suspect that I'll be glad when I finally get this work done as well. I can't wait until it is all finished.
Currently, I am working a paper for No-No Boy by John Okada. I think that it is a great book and could probably give a pretty good formalistic (note: jargon) reading of the book without doing any extra research. But of course, research is absolutely required, so the desk in my office is slathered in academic papers that only a handful of people have ever really read. But, I am not complaining. Last year, I wrote a thirty page bibliography for research I had done for my first graduate level paper. It was one of the most challenging things I had ever done, but I was glad I did it. I suspect that I'll be glad when I finally get this work done as well. I can't wait until it is all finished.
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Thanksgiving Leftovers
For the Thanksgiving Holiday here in the States, I visited my girlfriend's family and had a wonderful meal of turkey, ham, and broccoli. (I know Canada already had their Thanksgiving a month before.) I wanted to post a picture of the delicious meal, but unfortunately my skills with the digital camera were sorely lacking the day I took the picture: everything turned out grey. It was an interesting holiday in that the most memorable part of it was spent raking leaves for my girlfriend's uncle who had recently had heart surgery and was still in the hospital. The raking work was messy, but I like the fact that we were helping out someone who really needed it. The town in which they live is very pretty, and I realized being there that part of me missed it. I hoped they enjoyed sharing their holiday with me, and that I was not too much trouble.
Thanksgiving Visits
That weekend, I made a special trip by myself to visit my family. (The picture above is of the barn at their place.) Most everyone was at my parent's house this time as my sister had driven up from her college in California. I spent some time catching up with them about what they were doing. I took a lot of pictures, but with exception of a few non-identifying photos of things like the barn, I won't be posting them here on the blog. They're the kind of family photos most people would find boring anyway. As for the nutria I mentioned in the last post, I haven't seen any lately, but wouldn't you know, I did see a possum. Sometimes, you can't win.
Thanksgiving Visits
That weekend, I made a special trip by myself to visit my family. (The picture above is of the barn at their place.) Most everyone was at my parent's house this time as my sister had driven up from her college in California. I spent some time catching up with them about what they were doing. I took a lot of pictures, but with exception of a few non-identifying photos of things like the barn, I won't be posting them here on the blog. They're the kind of family photos most people would find boring anyway. As for the nutria I mentioned in the last post, I haven't seen any lately, but wouldn't you know, I did see a possum. Sometimes, you can't win.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Ned the Nutria
For those of you who have not had the pleasure of ever seeing a nutria, then let me paint you a picture. Imagine a New York rat: a long tailed, beady-eye animal, with large teeth protruding front teeth. Now, imagine that rat growing to the size of a small beaver, throw it into some waterway like a creek, a ditch, or even marsh, let it live there to munch on weeds and whatever else it eats.
Now imagine that it is dark. You have come home two hours ago. And because you live in crummy student housing, you need to take your laundry to a building across the parking lot. You walk past the bushes and assume that the rustling you hear is just the neighborhood cat, a pleasant but annoying creature always trying to sneak into other people's apartments. While looking at the bushes for the invisible cat, you nearly miss stepping on the giant rat creature obliviously munching on acorns under your apartment mailbox. Since you have startled it, it dashes off towards the creek with an animal burst of speed, which startles you. Simultaneously, the rustling in the bushes dashes off towards the creek. After removing the various laundry items that you, in a fright, accidentally threw up into the oak tree, you realize you have met a nutria.
Ned's Home
I had called a couple of times before to complain about these rat like disease carriers, but today, I finally went to visit the apartment manager to complain in person. As the creek behind the apartment we live in is actually a wildlife refuge, the manager says that he will have to call the fish and wildlife department. I know that the nothing will likely be done because, as I go to a state college, and the creek is a local park, I am officially in bureaucratic purgatory. Ned the Nutria, you have won the day my friend. If I can capture him on camera, I will try to post the picture here. For now, I can only be content to post a picture of the creek in which Ned lives.
Now imagine that it is dark. You have come home two hours ago. And because you live in crummy student housing, you need to take your laundry to a building across the parking lot. You walk past the bushes and assume that the rustling you hear is just the neighborhood cat, a pleasant but annoying creature always trying to sneak into other people's apartments. While looking at the bushes for the invisible cat, you nearly miss stepping on the giant rat creature obliviously munching on acorns under your apartment mailbox. Since you have startled it, it dashes off towards the creek with an animal burst of speed, which startles you. Simultaneously, the rustling in the bushes dashes off towards the creek. After removing the various laundry items that you, in a fright, accidentally threw up into the oak tree, you realize you have met a nutria.
Ned's Home
I had called a couple of times before to complain about these rat like disease carriers, but today, I finally went to visit the apartment manager to complain in person. As the creek behind the apartment we live in is actually a wildlife refuge, the manager says that he will have to call the fish and wildlife department. I know that the nothing will likely be done because, as I go to a state college, and the creek is a local park, I am officially in bureaucratic purgatory. Ned the Nutria, you have won the day my friend. If I can capture him on camera, I will try to post the picture here. For now, I can only be content to post a picture of the creek in which Ned lives.
Friday, November 19, 2004
Fall Changes
It has been a full nine days since my last post. Things are getting busy around here, especially because it is getting closer to the end of the term, and I have a lot of work that I need to complete. I've got about two and half essays to write in about as many weeks. I'm not sure that I will be able to get it all done, but I have definitely changed some things about the way I have been working in the past. Rather than keep doing the same thing with more intensity, hoping things would somehow change, I decided I needed to do some completely different things to try and effect a permanent change.
Money has suddenly become an issue, which, is seriously making me think I should apply for a job over the winter break. I have noticed a few temporary agencies around town, and considering how winter shopping season is about to get in full swing, I figure I should be able to get a job an earn a few hundred dollars. I definitely need the cash. Still, I try to maintain my sanity in small ways: through time spent with my girlfriend, taking digital pictures when I can, and working on my comic occasionally. It definitely helps.
Money has suddenly become an issue, which, is seriously making me think I should apply for a job over the winter break. I have noticed a few temporary agencies around town, and considering how winter shopping season is about to get in full swing, I figure I should be able to get a job an earn a few hundred dollars. I definitely need the cash. Still, I try to maintain my sanity in small ways: through time spent with my girlfriend, taking digital pictures when I can, and working on my comic occasionally. It definitely helps.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Fish Dreams
Last night, I dreamed I was a small exotic fish in a very large municipal pond of some kind. I enjoyed the wash of water rushing through my gills, and I enjoyed the strength with which my body threw itself against the barely rocking currents. Swimming forward towards the pond's above-water concrete edge, over towards the waving underwater vegetation and the kelp-like shapes of the fresh water plants, I found myself caught in the tall leaves, leaves which were poisoning me. The shock of the idea of being poisoned affected me more than the mere reality of it. Assuming a human shape, I climbed out over the edge of the pond to try and find the comfort of people I knew would take care of me, cover me with a warmth that would negate the poison of the leaves that were prickling at my damp skin.
Fish
Although I enjoy dreams in which I am other animals or people, I did not enjoy this one too much. At the same, for some reason, I can not stop thinking about it. Here it is nearly twenty-four hours after I had the dream, and I can still hold some of the imagery of it in my mind. Most dreams leave me after being awake for twenty minutes. It has affected me on a deeper level than I guess I really want it to. On a completely different note, I do appreciate the poetry of the dream, even though it bothers me.
Fish
Although I enjoy dreams in which I am other animals or people, I did not enjoy this one too much. At the same, for some reason, I can not stop thinking about it. Here it is nearly twenty-four hours after I had the dream, and I can still hold some of the imagery of it in my mind. Most dreams leave me after being awake for twenty minutes. It has affected me on a deeper level than I guess I really want it to. On a completely different note, I do appreciate the poetry of the dream, even though it bothers me.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Projects and Introspection
Last night, I finally finished a minor project for school that I had been working on for the past couple of weeks, and, thankfully, I think that I managed to do rather well on it. I will know for sure when I get my grade for it, but the instructor told our group that she thought we had did well. I definitely needed the academic ego boost. It will help when I turn my attention this week to the unfinished projects I am still working on from last term.
Primarily, we were discussing John Okada's No-No Boy, which for me, is a novel that depicts a young Japanese-American man's struggle to define what it means to be an American in a society that had rejected him. Although I live on the West Coast of the U.S.A., I think that we do not hear enough about the internment of Americans in these camps, even now when such discussions--hell, "cultural battles"--are being waged over what it means to be an American. There are all kinds of memorials, observances, and reminders of other parts of our history, why not this part? Just as most kids on the west coast here know about Lewis and Clark, they should know about this as well. If anyone ever had a desire to read this book, they should read it as soon as they can.
Waterfall Fountain
Finally, despite this press of work, yesterday my girlfriend and I decided that a trip the beach was necessary to take a time out from all of the stress and hassle that normally builds up from daily living. Just as one has to occasionally clear out the fridge from spoiled food, or clear out the accumulations of clutter in your living room, one should clear the soul and spirit from the clutter of daily routine with a refreshing communion with nature. There really is no place like the beach. I wish we had taken pictures, but we did not have a camera with us. Today at least, even though I am immersed in the daily routine of work again, I can still enjoy the mental images of yesterday's sunset at the coast and enjoy the feelings that were inspired by time well spent with my girlfriend.
Primarily, we were discussing John Okada's No-No Boy, which for me, is a novel that depicts a young Japanese-American man's struggle to define what it means to be an American in a society that had rejected him. Although I live on the West Coast of the U.S.A., I think that we do not hear enough about the internment of Americans in these camps, even now when such discussions--hell, "cultural battles"--are being waged over what it means to be an American. There are all kinds of memorials, observances, and reminders of other parts of our history, why not this part? Just as most kids on the west coast here know about Lewis and Clark, they should know about this as well. If anyone ever had a desire to read this book, they should read it as soon as they can.
Waterfall Fountain
Finally, despite this press of work, yesterday my girlfriend and I decided that a trip the beach was necessary to take a time out from all of the stress and hassle that normally builds up from daily living. Just as one has to occasionally clear out the fridge from spoiled food, or clear out the accumulations of clutter in your living room, one should clear the soul and spirit from the clutter of daily routine with a refreshing communion with nature. There really is no place like the beach. I wish we had taken pictures, but we did not have a camera with us. Today at least, even though I am immersed in the daily routine of work again, I can still enjoy the mental images of yesterday's sunset at the coast and enjoy the feelings that were inspired by time well spent with my girlfriend.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
NaNoWriMo
One of the things that I've always wanted to do was write a novel. Of course, I've dabbled with writing for several years, the most significant portion of which has been free verse poetry. (I try to take an imagist tack in the poetry as much as possible, and therefore I avoid meter, rhyme, and other things traditionally considered poetry. Like I said, I am a dabbler.) But, I have not really delved much into prose, except for a couple of ridiculously angsty short stories I tried to write on my own in my early twenties and a handful of short stories I wrote in my creative writing college classes. Therefore, when I came across the NaNoWriMo website, I figured it seemed like a good thing to try. Short for National Novel Writing Month, the NaNoWriMo group encourages everyone to write a novel in a single month and to keep track of their progress on their site. I figured, what the heck, why not give it a shot? As it is completely free, I created a user profile and signed up.
Their basic advice about writing is pretty sound. The thing they say is that the most difficult thing about writing is pounding out the first draft. Having written countless college essays and term papers, I can concur. Many of my composition courses, or training classes to become a composition instructor, have said the same thing. Consequently, emphasizing quantity over quality, NaNoWriMo is encouraging participants to write 50,000 words during November. As I still have a lot of my own work to do (writing several essays for college), I already know that I will fall far, far short of this goal. As with all of my creative writing, I only intend to dabble, which means I will work on this "novel" during slow moments, or when I can't stand to write another academic word. These brief moments of novel writing will be a way of loosening the stiff writing muscles for the heavier work of writing term papers. (I haven't forgotten which side my bread is actually buttered on.)
And I have a past history of doing something similar to this. During my undergraduate days, I would often try to write a poem or two (usually a bad one) before launching into writing a rough draft of an assigned paper. The assigned paper would generally come more quickly and be bit better after doing so. It is roughly analogous to stretching before running a marathon. And that is how my priorities are going to be, the real marathon is not writing a novel, but getting my own work done. The stretching will be the NaNoWriMo project. I'll keep you posted on my progress.
Their basic advice about writing is pretty sound. The thing they say is that the most difficult thing about writing is pounding out the first draft. Having written countless college essays and term papers, I can concur. Many of my composition courses, or training classes to become a composition instructor, have said the same thing. Consequently, emphasizing quantity over quality, NaNoWriMo is encouraging participants to write 50,000 words during November. As I still have a lot of my own work to do (writing several essays for college), I already know that I will fall far, far short of this goal. As with all of my creative writing, I only intend to dabble, which means I will work on this "novel" during slow moments, or when I can't stand to write another academic word. These brief moments of novel writing will be a way of loosening the stiff writing muscles for the heavier work of writing term papers. (I haven't forgotten which side my bread is actually buttered on.)
And I have a past history of doing something similar to this. During my undergraduate days, I would often try to write a poem or two (usually a bad one) before launching into writing a rough draft of an assigned paper. The assigned paper would generally come more quickly and be bit better after doing so. It is roughly analogous to stretching before running a marathon. And that is how my priorities are going to be, the real marathon is not writing a novel, but getting my own work done. The stretching will be the NaNoWriMo project. I'll keep you posted on my progress.
Monday, October 25, 2004
Progress and Outlook
I finally got my computer cord during the end of last week, and I have been catching up on my internet usage for the past couple of days. I am also trying to get as caught up as I can on some unfinished projects at school. Yes, I have two final papers left over from the previous term that I need to finish quickly, as well as final papers from this term that I need to start soon. For those of you who are keeping score, these two papers that need to be finished are completely different from the previous two papers that I had talked about in months past. I did not do too badly on those papers, although I wish I had done them sooner.
Tonight, I am going home to clean up the house for upcoming inspections from the student housing office. Lest you think me an incorrigible slob, I must tell you that I am not being singled out for said inspections. Since I go to a state university, and have student housing (which by default makes it government housing), the entire student complex of over 1000 units is being inspected. They did this last term and I passed with flying colors, but that was merely because I had barely lived in the place for more than a few weeks before they came over. Now, after a full year, the house has more of a lived in feel, instead of the bare, stark, institutional feel it had back then. Consequently, I will need to make sure that the house is clean top to bottom. It should not be too hard.
But then it will be back to working on my papers. I am going to need to have the one done by tomorrow night or Wednesday. I think I can do it, but it will need some solid dedication on my part and a commitment not to get to get distracted.
Yesterday, I read the novel The Flower Drum Song by C.Y. Lee. According to the instructor, this was popular novel about a family in Chinatown that came under attack in the seventies for perpetuating harmful stereotypes about Asians. After reading, I have to admit that I was uncomfortable with some of the portrayals of women in the book, but I chalked it up as being a product of its time (which was the late 1950's). Of course, the book doesn't come close to the 1961 Rodgers and Hammerstein movie musical of the same name for stereotypes. In fact, the movie blows past harmful stereotypes straight into full-on racism and sexism. The fresh-off-the-boat Chinese woman Mei Li has no other desire than to get married to a stiff shirt who suffers from a father who apparently acts too traditional. I won't go into too much detail except to say that the younger son of this too-traditional father is wearing either a New York Giants baseball uniform or a 1776 American Revolutionary fighter costume through half of the movie. I did like the Samuel Adams Fong (no kidding!) character in that he seemed to be channeling a kind of Dean Martin persona with all the attendant 60's lingo. But, it is a movie I probably won't be seeing again soon.
Tonight, I am going home to clean up the house for upcoming inspections from the student housing office. Lest you think me an incorrigible slob, I must tell you that I am not being singled out for said inspections. Since I go to a state university, and have student housing (which by default makes it government housing), the entire student complex of over 1000 units is being inspected. They did this last term and I passed with flying colors, but that was merely because I had barely lived in the place for more than a few weeks before they came over. Now, after a full year, the house has more of a lived in feel, instead of the bare, stark, institutional feel it had back then. Consequently, I will need to make sure that the house is clean top to bottom. It should not be too hard.
But then it will be back to working on my papers. I am going to need to have the one done by tomorrow night or Wednesday. I think I can do it, but it will need some solid dedication on my part and a commitment not to get to get distracted.
Yesterday, I read the novel The Flower Drum Song by C.Y. Lee. According to the instructor, this was popular novel about a family in Chinatown that came under attack in the seventies for perpetuating harmful stereotypes about Asians. After reading, I have to admit that I was uncomfortable with some of the portrayals of women in the book, but I chalked it up as being a product of its time (which was the late 1950's). Of course, the book doesn't come close to the 1961 Rodgers and Hammerstein movie musical of the same name for stereotypes. In fact, the movie blows past harmful stereotypes straight into full-on racism and sexism. The fresh-off-the-boat Chinese woman Mei Li has no other desire than to get married to a stiff shirt who suffers from a father who apparently acts too traditional. I won't go into too much detail except to say that the younger son of this too-traditional father is wearing either a New York Giants baseball uniform or a 1776 American Revolutionary fighter costume through half of the movie. I did like the Samuel Adams Fong (no kidding!) character in that he seemed to be channeling a kind of Dean Martin persona with all the attendant 60's lingo. But, it is a movie I probably won't be seeing again soon.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
A Conversation
The following is an actual transcript of a conversation that I had with my computer last week. To provide the appropriate background, I must tell you that I am college graduate student majoring in English, and therefore have a daily need for a computer to do research, note-taking, and of course, word processing. (Furthermore, I am a level 10 nerd, with plus one (+1) modifiers to all around geekery.) My computer is a laptop Toshiba Satellite A45-S150; let's call it Toshi.
Zhaf: Well, Toshi, time for another session on the Internet.
Toshi: Dude, are you kidding? That's like the third time today. Don't you have a book to read or something?
Zhaf: Yeah, but I just want to check my e-mail to see if the school has sent me something important.
Tohsi: Hah! You just want to post something on your other blog, and you use school as an excuse.
Zhaf: I do not!
Toshi: Right, and I'm not a computer. Listen, I'm so sick of eating all the cookies from the countless websites you visit, I could lose my "chips."
Zhaf: That's an exaggeration.
Toshi: Uh, actually, I do feel a little sick. My cord hurts for some reason.
Zhaf: Oh my god, your cord is frayed! When did that happen?
Toshi: Man, I don't know. Ow! Don't jiggle it! That makes it worse.
Zhaf: Just let me plug you in for a little bit to see if you'll take a charge. (a short moment later) Whoa!
Toshi: OWWW! Holy Crap! What did you do? That really, really hurts!
Zhaf: When I plugged you in, there was shower of orange sparks that shot out from your cord and melted the nearby plastic.
Toshi: Aw, geez. That's just great! Why don't you set me on fire to see if I will put myself out! Not a smooth move, dude.
Zhaf: Hang a second; Let me see if I can get you a new power supply.
Zhaf: Bad news, Toshi. It is going to be awhile before I can get you fixed.
Tohsi: Bad news for you, not for me. It looks like I am going to get a weeklong rest from your grubby fingers pounding on my keys.
Zhaf: Um, whatever. Look, I am going to have to let you sleep for about a week. We'll talk again when your part comes in.
Toshi: Good night, man.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Academic Monuments
I finally met my new office mate after three weeks of school being officially over. He seems like a very interesting person who wants to focus his English studies in film, which, as far as I am concerned right now, seems about as good as anything. I need to figure out this whole program of English study for myself sooner rather than later. I am still interested in books, but I hardly have time to read anything outside of what I'm assigned. I can't imagine having the time to watch a bunch of films, even if they are for a class I am taking. At this exact moment, I have about two hundred pages of rather dense material to get through of The New Rhetoric, a long treatise on the nature of rhetoric. I think I can follow most of it, but it is testing my ability to concentrate on the subject.
Anyway, My new office mate has be rearranging the other desks lately, and recently wanted to know if I cared whether or not he moved bookcase. Since I'm a pretty easy-going guy, I said that whatever he had in mind was fine with me. But, the thing about the bookcase is that at least one hundred student portfolios are sitting on it, waiting for students to come back and pick them up--something that the students have generally seemed reluctant to do. (These portfolios contain the three essays and three rough drafts that this cirriculum requires them to do, plus all of the writing they ever did in class.) Consequently, even though the students have long graduated, even though the graduate student instructors who taught the classes have moved on, the portfolios remain waiting for a pick-up that will never happen. They are sort of a dust-covered monument to the undergraduate, academic past.
In any event, the new office mate moved all of the portfolios to a couple of the desks that are not being used. As he has brought attention to these portfolios, I became curious about them and decided to thumb through a couple. I was most interested in the previous graduate students, the past teachers of these portfolio authors, because I am currently in the position--hell, I am in the same damn office--that they themselves used to occupy. I noted their names and began to google them to see what greener pastures had lay in store for them after investing their time and money in this particular instituion. Perhaps their success would indicate what may lay in store for me if I worked hard enough.
The results were sobering. Out of eight names, only one turned up: Brian S. And he currently works in an all girl boarding school in Conneticut, not a University or a Community College. I suspect that the only reason that he was able to get the boarding school job is that those types of jobs are harder to hire for, and therefore will accept anyone qualified person willing to work in those conditions. You will not find many people willing to choose to live with their students beyond the normal teaching day. Part of me had hoped that because the program I am at focuses so heavily on its unique approach to teaching that all of the students would be more valuable, and therefore more hirable, in the work force. I expected to see more than half of the names as instructors at community colleges around the country, and even one or two at a full fledged University. They, apparently, are not. I need to really laser my efforts here to not only overcome the previously difficulties I have had, but to acheive some measure of distinction that will help me get a lucrative job in the future. I am doing a pretty good job with my comments in class, but I need to keep up on the all of the homework and improve my writing skills by at least one thousand percent.
Anyway, My new office mate has be rearranging the other desks lately, and recently wanted to know if I cared whether or not he moved bookcase. Since I'm a pretty easy-going guy, I said that whatever he had in mind was fine with me. But, the thing about the bookcase is that at least one hundred student portfolios are sitting on it, waiting for students to come back and pick them up--something that the students have generally seemed reluctant to do. (These portfolios contain the three essays and three rough drafts that this cirriculum requires them to do, plus all of the writing they ever did in class.) Consequently, even though the students have long graduated, even though the graduate student instructors who taught the classes have moved on, the portfolios remain waiting for a pick-up that will never happen. They are sort of a dust-covered monument to the undergraduate, academic past.
In any event, the new office mate moved all of the portfolios to a couple of the desks that are not being used. As he has brought attention to these portfolios, I became curious about them and decided to thumb through a couple. I was most interested in the previous graduate students, the past teachers of these portfolio authors, because I am currently in the position--hell, I am in the same damn office--that they themselves used to occupy. I noted their names and began to google them to see what greener pastures had lay in store for them after investing their time and money in this particular instituion. Perhaps their success would indicate what may lay in store for me if I worked hard enough.
The results were sobering. Out of eight names, only one turned up: Brian S. And he currently works in an all girl boarding school in Conneticut, not a University or a Community College. I suspect that the only reason that he was able to get the boarding school job is that those types of jobs are harder to hire for, and therefore will accept anyone qualified person willing to work in those conditions. You will not find many people willing to choose to live with their students beyond the normal teaching day. Part of me had hoped that because the program I am at focuses so heavily on its unique approach to teaching that all of the students would be more valuable, and therefore more hirable, in the work force. I expected to see more than half of the names as instructors at community colleges around the country, and even one or two at a full fledged University. They, apparently, are not. I need to really laser my efforts here to not only overcome the previously difficulties I have had, but to acheive some measure of distinction that will help me get a lucrative job in the future. I am doing a pretty good job with my comments in class, but I need to keep up on the all of the homework and improve my writing skills by at least one thousand percent.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Ghosts and Warriors
Today I finished reading The Woman Warrior by Maxine Hong Kingston for my Asian American Literature course. I am not sure what to make of this book. On the one hand, it declares itself a memoir, but interwoven throughout (in some places more than others) are mythological elements that fight against its being classified as a traditional autobiography. Overall, I enjoyed it, but since this reading was for class, I feel I need to understand a bit more.
For example, in the first section, a young Chinese girl, lost in wilderness, is found and taken care of by two mysterious old people who train her to take revenge on the the people who have made her homeless. She is trained as a swordswoman, like the traditional figure of Fa Mu Lan, which apparently is akin to Joan of Arc. (That is, all of this happens if I understood the narrative right.) The elderly couple is described as magical beings who hardly eat, and have powers of prognostication thanks to their crystal ball, which isn't a crystal ball but actually a magic drinking gourd. Contrast those images to the final section where a young Chinese-American girl working at the family Laundry in New York is frustrated by her mother, while she simultaneously struggles to define who she is and how she fits in the Western World.
I am oversimplifying here, but the thoughts that come to my mind are this: as this book shapes itself as an autobiography, should one think of the mythological elements as an ideological framework in which the more realistic elements are grounded? What I mean is this: does the mythology provide a framework that gives readers with no knowldege of Chinese culture a cultural background that is necessary to understand the autobiography? This book reads more like a novel than anything else, and as a novel, I am thinking along the lines of the "magic realism" style associated with Marquez. I think all this might be happening, but then again, I also think this is too technical for my blog, and I should be putting this on the class site instead. Actually, I think I am going to do that right now.
For example, in the first section, a young Chinese girl, lost in wilderness, is found and taken care of by two mysterious old people who train her to take revenge on the the people who have made her homeless. She is trained as a swordswoman, like the traditional figure of Fa Mu Lan, which apparently is akin to Joan of Arc. (That is, all of this happens if I understood the narrative right.) The elderly couple is described as magical beings who hardly eat, and have powers of prognostication thanks to their crystal ball, which isn't a crystal ball but actually a magic drinking gourd. Contrast those images to the final section where a young Chinese-American girl working at the family Laundry in New York is frustrated by her mother, while she simultaneously struggles to define who she is and how she fits in the Western World.
I am oversimplifying here, but the thoughts that come to my mind are this: as this book shapes itself as an autobiography, should one think of the mythological elements as an ideological framework in which the more realistic elements are grounded? What I mean is this: does the mythology provide a framework that gives readers with no knowldege of Chinese culture a cultural background that is necessary to understand the autobiography? This book reads more like a novel than anything else, and as a novel, I am thinking along the lines of the "magic realism" style associated with Marquez. I think all this might be happening, but then again, I also think this is too technical for my blog, and I should be putting this on the class site instead. Actually, I think I am going to do that right now.
Sunday, October 03, 2004
Volcano!
As everyone who has watched the news in the last several days already knows, Mt. St. Helens has been making some noise and has generated a lot of interest. My grandparents happened to be painting their deck when the big blast occurred in 1980. They watched helplessly as ash fell into the wet paint ruining it. Then it was tragedy, but now, it is a family story (which most of us think is kind of funny). Now, my parents live in that house, and the grandparents have moved ten miles to be closer to town. And guess what they are doing? Painting their new deck for their new home. I know it would be a lot of money to repaint a deck, but if ash managed to make it down here in a new explosion to ruin their paint job, I really would find that hilarious.
Anyhow, while looking, I found this link to the live webcam from the Johnston Ridge Observatory (named for the scientist who died in the 1980 blast). In the interest of science, I present the following to you. Enjoy.
UPDATE: October 4th, 8 a.m.-- Scientists have said that the lava dome, that big bulgy thing in the crater of the volcano that acts like a lid on a shook up soda bottle, has moved 50 to 100 feet! They were concerned when it looked like it had moved just a couple of centimeters. Another thing I have heard is that Volcanoes in the Northwest have a tendency to explode, shooting out plumes of ash rather than erupt with rivers of lava. It looks like the darn thing could blow at any minute. While I hope I get to see it when it happens, I also hope noone gets hurt.
UPDATE 2: October 4th, 6:00 p.m. -- This information about the Volcano is really interesting. I found it on one of the US Geological Survey sites:
Anyhow, while looking, I found this link to the live webcam from the Johnston Ridge Observatory (named for the scientist who died in the 1980 blast). In the interest of science, I present the following to you. Enjoy.
UPDATE: October 4th, 8 a.m.-- Scientists have said that the lava dome, that big bulgy thing in the crater of the volcano that acts like a lid on a shook up soda bottle, has moved 50 to 100 feet! They were concerned when it looked like it had moved just a couple of centimeters. Another thing I have heard is that Volcanoes in the Northwest have a tendency to explode, shooting out plumes of ash rather than erupt with rivers of lava. It looks like the darn thing could blow at any minute. While I hope I get to see it when it happens, I also hope noone gets hurt.
UPDATE 2: October 4th, 6:00 p.m. -- This information about the Volcano is really interesting. I found it on one of the US Geological Survey sites:
Northwest Indians told early explorers about the firey Mount St. Helens. In fact, an Indian name for the mountain, Louwala-Clough, means "smoking mountain". According to one legend, the mountain was once a beautiful maiden, "Loowit". When two sons of the Great Spirit "Sahale" fell in love with her, she could not choose between them. The two braves, Wyeast and Klickitat fought over her, burying villages and forests in the process. Sahale was furious. He smote the three lovers and erected a mighty mountain peak where each fell. Because Loowit was beautiful, her mountain (Mount St. Helens) was a beautiful, symmetrical cone of dazzling white. Wyeast (Mount Hood) lifts his head in pride, but Klickitat (Mount Adams) wept to see the beautiful maiden wrapped in snow, so he bends his head as he gazes on St. Helens.I want to hear more of these kind of stories about the mountains in the news, rather than see reporters get excited every time there is a belch of steam. Oh, and one final thing, don't make that Sahale guy angry. Apparently he has a temper.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Old and New
School officially started yesterday, and like thousands of college students before me, I stood in the lines to buy a parking sticker and get books, earlier. Fortunately, as I have done this for so long, I don't have to stand as many lines as I used to. Even in both of the lines I stood in yesterday, there were at least a couple of freshman who stood in line for half an hour before realizing or being told they were in the wrong line. Been there and done that, but thank God that I know better now.
The financial aid line I stood in the other day was the only line where student's parents stood with them, which is because it is about money. But it was interesting to watch the parents and how they behaved in line. Almost every mom and dad took one of the flyers outside of the door and made their kid read one in a gesture of "you-better-think-about-this-now." The students were too busy watching each other, or pretending not to watch, to pay attention to anything their parents were saying. The one exception was a dad who was standing in line by himself because the daughter got upset over something and stormed out away from him. I felt a little bad for him, because unlike the other parents who were dressed in a New England fantasy of middle class, this guy looked like he climbed out of the woods after a month of logging. He wore jeans that were visibly caked in dirt and wore a stained white T-shirt. Later, the whole family returned to ask him what he wanted from Burger King. In a way, it was refreshing to see him there in line because he was an antidote to the bored sterility of everyone else. He seemed to be a little excited by the whole college thing.
1984
But it was not all standing in lines on the first day. Besides working on unfinished projects, I struggled with the new desk I have in my office. The lower drawer gets stuck and, unlike other stuck drawers, I have not find the right technique to get it open. Part of me wants to say this is a security feature, but then I worry my files getting stuck in there forever. Therefore, I pulled in out the other day and found a shopping bag with the magazine card and receipt you see above, circa 1984. If you click on the picture and expand the image you can see where I've underlined the dates in red. Besides the fact that something as humble as a subscription card to magazines is actually a snapshot of American culture, I was intrigued by the the similarities and difference of the college experience then and now. You'll see Dustin Hoffman standing next to himself as Tootsie, The Computer as Time magazine's "Machine of the Year," and Steve Jobs on the cover of Fortune Magazine in a funny business suit. (Sports Illustrated does not advertise their swimsuit issue on the card which make me wonder if it was something they did in 1984.) But, what gets me is there is no reference to credit card numbers on the sign-up. And it is obvious that this card is just like the standard bundle of crap that gets stuffed in your book when you buy it today. Of course, what is missing are the three credit card applications that also come with it.
I have to say that the People Magazine secondary headlines crack me up. (They're printed larger on the back of the subscription card.) They are as follows: At Home with Mom-to-be Marie Osmond, TV's Sexiest Fitness Program, Is Rock Dead, and The Herpes Dating Service. Three words: Oh my God! I have no more comment.
The financial aid line I stood in the other day was the only line where student's parents stood with them, which is because it is about money. But it was interesting to watch the parents and how they behaved in line. Almost every mom and dad took one of the flyers outside of the door and made their kid read one in a gesture of "you-better-think-about-this-now." The students were too busy watching each other, or pretending not to watch, to pay attention to anything their parents were saying. The one exception was a dad who was standing in line by himself because the daughter got upset over something and stormed out away from him. I felt a little bad for him, because unlike the other parents who were dressed in a New England fantasy of middle class, this guy looked like he climbed out of the woods after a month of logging. He wore jeans that were visibly caked in dirt and wore a stained white T-shirt. Later, the whole family returned to ask him what he wanted from Burger King. In a way, it was refreshing to see him there in line because he was an antidote to the bored sterility of everyone else. He seemed to be a little excited by the whole college thing.
1984
But it was not all standing in lines on the first day. Besides working on unfinished projects, I struggled with the new desk I have in my office. The lower drawer gets stuck and, unlike other stuck drawers, I have not find the right technique to get it open. Part of me wants to say this is a security feature, but then I worry my files getting stuck in there forever. Therefore, I pulled in out the other day and found a shopping bag with the magazine card and receipt you see above, circa 1984. If you click on the picture and expand the image you can see where I've underlined the dates in red. Besides the fact that something as humble as a subscription card to magazines is actually a snapshot of American culture, I was intrigued by the the similarities and difference of the college experience then and now. You'll see Dustin Hoffman standing next to himself as Tootsie, The Computer as Time magazine's "Machine of the Year," and Steve Jobs on the cover of Fortune Magazine in a funny business suit. (Sports Illustrated does not advertise their swimsuit issue on the card which make me wonder if it was something they did in 1984.) But, what gets me is there is no reference to credit card numbers on the sign-up. And it is obvious that this card is just like the standard bundle of crap that gets stuffed in your book when you buy it today. Of course, what is missing are the three credit card applications that also come with it.
I have to say that the People Magazine secondary headlines crack me up. (They're printed larger on the back of the subscription card.) They are as follows: At Home with Mom-to-be Marie Osmond, TV's Sexiest Fitness Program, Is Rock Dead, and The Herpes Dating Service. Three words: Oh my God! I have no more comment.
Friday, September 24, 2004
Begin Again
School officially starts of Monday, but I have already gone to a week long conference for graduate teachers of composition, something which was a little intimidating at first, but also a bit exciting. I'm not sure how teaching my first class will go, but I have already made up a syllabus that I think might work. Of course, it is a bit heavy on course work (reading responses), but I'm sure I could make it work. Actually, having a lot of work for students to do is comforting for me as teacher because I know that even if I screw up all the lectures, I can fall back on what they've read. It might mean more grading for me, but as a first time teacher, it is something that I can have a little control over, so I say: bad for them, good for me. Really, I'm pretty sure it won't really hurt them. If the work does happen to be too much, I can always ease up later.
The Creek
During the conference, I have been a little surprised at some of the advice that the other, more experienced graduate students have given the prospective teachers. Having been myself a student for the last several years, it is fascinating to have another peek behind the curtain and see the kinds of things that instructors do when teaching, the tricks they use. For example, when students get upset with certain policies, like your late policy, instructors blame it on the syllabus rather than themselves. Even though they wrote the policy, if they say, "well, it's on the syllabus," most students will sigh, relent, and eventually accept that the piece of paper said so. Somehow, the paper carries more weight and authority. The other thing that surprises me if how often SOME instructors are willing to lie. (I emphasize some because it is clear that not all of them do it.) Just one example: if instructors allow students to choose which essays they want to read for the term by having them write their top three choices on a piece of paper, and later that night while reading their choices the instructors discover they're not comfortable with the student choices, they will lie in the next class and say, "well, it turns out this article was the most popular," even though it wasn't. I have to say that I have heard both of these things from professors, about the syllabus and had to do the choosing articles thing, and it never really ocurred to me that instructors would use these tricks. Man, I was naive. Today, I meet with the Composition Director to discuss my own syllabus and get advice on it. I hope all goes well because I spent a long time working on it.
The Creek
During the conference, I have been a little surprised at some of the advice that the other, more experienced graduate students have given the prospective teachers. Having been myself a student for the last several years, it is fascinating to have another peek behind the curtain and see the kinds of things that instructors do when teaching, the tricks they use. For example, when students get upset with certain policies, like your late policy, instructors blame it on the syllabus rather than themselves. Even though they wrote the policy, if they say, "well, it's on the syllabus," most students will sigh, relent, and eventually accept that the piece of paper said so. Somehow, the paper carries more weight and authority. The other thing that surprises me if how often SOME instructors are willing to lie. (I emphasize some because it is clear that not all of them do it.) Just one example: if instructors allow students to choose which essays they want to read for the term by having them write their top three choices on a piece of paper, and later that night while reading their choices the instructors discover they're not comfortable with the student choices, they will lie in the next class and say, "well, it turns out this article was the most popular," even though it wasn't. I have to say that I have heard both of these things from professors, about the syllabus and had to do the choosing articles thing, and it never really ocurred to me that instructors would use these tricks. Man, I was naive. Today, I meet with the Composition Director to discuss my own syllabus and get advice on it. I hope all goes well because I spent a long time working on it.
Saturday, September 18, 2004
Closed Captioning
Just during the last few years, I have developed the habit of turning on the captions of the televison whenever I am watching it. I'm not sure about the precise reason why I did it--perhaps too much noise, or maybe I was trying to be quiet for someone else--but, I have become attached to them. Even though I worked at a facotry for about ten years in a high noise (and chemical) environment, I do not have significant hearing loss and can hear most everything just fine. Perhpas another part of the reason is that I prefer reading, and bizarrely, having the captions on the television allows me to read what I'm watching.
Of course, the captions have their idiosyncracies that most people may not be aware of. First, it doesn't caption everything a person says. The captions sometimes skip over complex phrases or slang to produce a written "Stop!" from a spoken "Get your can back here, McBain!" And sometimes the captions from a previous television show or commercial will hang over a non-captioned show or commercial. Recently, over an advertisement for a local business called the Dance Factory hung the words "Navy: It's a way of life." Maybe they were talking about this Navy, still the dancin'est Navy on the planet. But my favorite captioning moment is NOT when you see gibberish on the screen (as in "zxye vrsh ts!"), but when the captioner seems to give up, especially in the late night programs like Jay Leno or David Letterman. The conversation goes too quickly for the live captioner to keep up.
Frankly, I am a little worried about hearing loss in the future. I may have a genetic predisposition, thanks to my biological father. And I already have to ask a few people to speak up, or turn up the television. Hearing is something that you have to take care of because you could lose it. I suppose the other reason why I read captioning is to give my ears a rest. I want to be able to hear things on my own for a long time to come.
Of course, the captions have their idiosyncracies that most people may not be aware of. First, it doesn't caption everything a person says. The captions sometimes skip over complex phrases or slang to produce a written "Stop!" from a spoken "Get your can back here, McBain!" And sometimes the captions from a previous television show or commercial will hang over a non-captioned show or commercial. Recently, over an advertisement for a local business called the Dance Factory hung the words "Navy: It's a way of life." Maybe they were talking about this Navy, still the dancin'est Navy on the planet. But my favorite captioning moment is NOT when you see gibberish on the screen (as in "zxye vrsh ts!"), but when the captioner seems to give up, especially in the late night programs like Jay Leno or David Letterman. The conversation goes too quickly for the live captioner to keep up.
Frankly, I am a little worried about hearing loss in the future. I may have a genetic predisposition, thanks to my biological father. And I already have to ask a few people to speak up, or turn up the television. Hearing is something that you have to take care of because you could lose it. I suppose the other reason why I read captioning is to give my ears a rest. I want to be able to hear things on my own for a long time to come.
Friday, September 17, 2004
Rain and Reflections
For the last several days, my girlfriend has been in Hawai'i with her family enjoying the tide pools, volcanos and lava flows, and above all else the ocean. Except for the suana like heat and humidity, it is what everyone says it is: a tropical paradise. Her descriptions of how great it is there have reminded me of how much I miss her. So, I have been left by myself to work on my various papers and to get them done. So far so good, but I need to keep up my working pace and productivity during the next week to get them all done by the end of the month when school finally starts here.
The weather here has been decidedly cool and rainy, and it has been that way for the last several days. Consequently, my mood has changed somewhat. I don't like to think that mood is affected by the weather, but I have to admit that, to a small degree, it is. The bigger story here is that things are moving on here at school, sometimes without me. The Ph.D. students are taking their qualification exams, which frankly, I am worried that I wouldn't be able to pass it even if I was taking it. As a Masters degree student, I don't--at least, not yet. The mailbox that I was able to access from the hallway has now moved inside the office, something that has a bigger impact on than I think it should. It is a symbol that I will not be teaching in the fall. Only student-teachers have these mailboxes. To access my mailbox, I will have to go inside the office, and look at the faces of the administrative staff who know I am not teaching. I'm a little worried that I have missed some important handouts.
Rain on Bamboo
Now, to be fair and realistic, I don't think that anyone really cares a whole bunch. I mean, big deal, right? I am just another face in a constant parade of faces who have marched through these budilings over the years, and unlike the professors who sometimes stay for years, even in the best case scenario, I will only be around for another year. I am not the first who has been in this situation, nor will I be the last. The only thing to do at this point is to start from where I am and move forward. If I can't try for being the model student anymore, I can certainly try for the most improved. Every day is a new chance, a new opportunity to make a fresh beginning. That is the advice I try to keep in mind. And it ilustrates something that I have been trying to do a lot lately: that is, focus on the positive and try to be optimistic in order to propel myself forward. Over-worry, anxiety, and having regrets about the time that has passed only paralyzes motivation.
With that in mind, there are some positives that I can focus on right now. First, my computer is paid in full. Thanks to some help from my sister, I now have a computer to help me do the work I have chosen to do. Another positive: I am still enrolled here at school, and I have even bought books for my next term. (One of which is No-No Boy by John Okada, a book I have wanted to read for awhile.) Soon, I will visit the gym because that is another thing that will help my mood, but after I have written some solid pages for my paper.
The weather here has been decidedly cool and rainy, and it has been that way for the last several days. Consequently, my mood has changed somewhat. I don't like to think that mood is affected by the weather, but I have to admit that, to a small degree, it is. The bigger story here is that things are moving on here at school, sometimes without me. The Ph.D. students are taking their qualification exams, which frankly, I am worried that I wouldn't be able to pass it even if I was taking it. As a Masters degree student, I don't--at least, not yet. The mailbox that I was able to access from the hallway has now moved inside the office, something that has a bigger impact on than I think it should. It is a symbol that I will not be teaching in the fall. Only student-teachers have these mailboxes. To access my mailbox, I will have to go inside the office, and look at the faces of the administrative staff who know I am not teaching. I'm a little worried that I have missed some important handouts.
Rain on Bamboo
Now, to be fair and realistic, I don't think that anyone really cares a whole bunch. I mean, big deal, right? I am just another face in a constant parade of faces who have marched through these budilings over the years, and unlike the professors who sometimes stay for years, even in the best case scenario, I will only be around for another year. I am not the first who has been in this situation, nor will I be the last. The only thing to do at this point is to start from where I am and move forward. If I can't try for being the model student anymore, I can certainly try for the most improved. Every day is a new chance, a new opportunity to make a fresh beginning. That is the advice I try to keep in mind. And it ilustrates something that I have been trying to do a lot lately: that is, focus on the positive and try to be optimistic in order to propel myself forward. Over-worry, anxiety, and having regrets about the time that has passed only paralyzes motivation.
With that in mind, there are some positives that I can focus on right now. First, my computer is paid in full. Thanks to some help from my sister, I now have a computer to help me do the work I have chosen to do. Another positive: I am still enrolled here at school, and I have even bought books for my next term. (One of which is No-No Boy by John Okada, a book I have wanted to read for awhile.) Soon, I will visit the gym because that is another thing that will help my mood, but after I have written some solid pages for my paper.
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Making Fiends
The first episode of season two is finally here, and I had to share it with everyone. What the heck am I talking about? No, not the new fall lineup on NBC, ABC, or CBS, but the new fall lineup of web cartoons! Okay, not really a whole line up, just one--Making Fiends--but already one of the greats. With classic lines like, "No! I am not a cheese," how can one resist? Created by Amy Winfrey and released monthly or so, many episodes pit the fiend-maker, Vendetta, against the friend-maker, Charlotte. The animation is good, and the jokes are pretty funny. If you haven't checked it out already, you should. Everyone should include a link to the Making Fiend site. And no, I do not work for them, or am otherwise associated with them, but yes, I still think you should check it out.
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Three Links
Normally, on my blog here, I write about how I cannot seem to get any work despite my best intentions. Writer's block is indeed a terrible thing, but constantly talking about it here can only lead to eventual boredom. My girlfriend has observed that I have been singing a one note song for a few months, and truly, this was valuable feedback. I have primarily been griping about papers that everyone seems to be sick of hearing about. Every writer should consider the needs of the audience. And I am no exception to the rule. Therefore, even though I plan to continue to use this blog as a soundboard for my own thoughts, I figured I would present some links to other sites I find interesting and which I think you should see. There can be more boring posts about my papers later.
First, Pax Nortona has a rather harrowing account of being rescued by paramedics after experiencing an angina during memorial day. Fortunately, I have never had to be transported to a hospital in an ambulance of any kind, but my sisters have. Once my sister had a grand mal seizure, and I sat with her on the floor and held her until the paramedics arrived to take her to the hospital. It was a little scary. And it reinforced a strong, personal knowledge of the fact that no matter how long it takes for a EMT crew to arrive (or a police officer) it is always too long. However, it is nice to take these services for granted.
Which brings me to the second post, Bhutan. This blog is an account of an American othropedic surgeon (I think) who has been working and traveling in the small Asian country of Bhutan, apparently the only Buddhist Kingdom on the planet. As he says in his posts, infection is constantly a problem because patients usually can only get treatment a couple of days after their accidents. Some of the imagery has been hard to see as he sometimes posts pictures of the injuries he encounters, but other images of his travels within the country have been fascinating. It has been interesting to follow this blog over the past couple of weeks and think about the contrasts between the country in which I live and the country of Bhutan, a place many people may not have even heard about. I think that this is the best kind of blogging, the kind that both opens the world up to you and makes you think critically about important issues.
The final post is a fascinating magazine interview with Alexander Yuvchenko, one of the engineers to survive the meltdown of the Chernobyl nuclear reactor in the eighties, an interview found in New Scientist magazine. (I found out about this through the blog Incoming Signals, a cool site for interesting links that should be occasionally checked by everyone.) For me, the scariest part of the whole interview is when Yuvchenko describes the eerie blue light emanating from what was left of the reactor core and shooting up like a laser beam straight into the night sky. Definitely required reading for anyone who remembers the incident, or anyone worried about the nuclear power, nuclear weapons, or the future. I distinctly remember how the news organizations from that time were tracking the radioactive cloud that traveled the in the jet stream of the northern hemisphere of the globe. If you don't already know about the Chernobyl accident, you should.
That's all of the links for now; now, it is back to work on those papers I mentioned in the beginning of the blog. I am getting over the worst of the writer's block, and I recently received some good news that I hope encourages me to success in the future. I'll probably post about that good news later, but for the time being, here's wishing myself luck.
First, Pax Nortona has a rather harrowing account of being rescued by paramedics after experiencing an angina during memorial day. Fortunately, I have never had to be transported to a hospital in an ambulance of any kind, but my sisters have. Once my sister had a grand mal seizure, and I sat with her on the floor and held her until the paramedics arrived to take her to the hospital. It was a little scary. And it reinforced a strong, personal knowledge of the fact that no matter how long it takes for a EMT crew to arrive (or a police officer) it is always too long. However, it is nice to take these services for granted.
Which brings me to the second post, Bhutan. This blog is an account of an American othropedic surgeon (I think) who has been working and traveling in the small Asian country of Bhutan, apparently the only Buddhist Kingdom on the planet. As he says in his posts, infection is constantly a problem because patients usually can only get treatment a couple of days after their accidents. Some of the imagery has been hard to see as he sometimes posts pictures of the injuries he encounters, but other images of his travels within the country have been fascinating. It has been interesting to follow this blog over the past couple of weeks and think about the contrasts between the country in which I live and the country of Bhutan, a place many people may not have even heard about. I think that this is the best kind of blogging, the kind that both opens the world up to you and makes you think critically about important issues.
The final post is a fascinating magazine interview with Alexander Yuvchenko, one of the engineers to survive the meltdown of the Chernobyl nuclear reactor in the eighties, an interview found in New Scientist magazine. (I found out about this through the blog Incoming Signals, a cool site for interesting links that should be occasionally checked by everyone.) For me, the scariest part of the whole interview is when Yuvchenko describes the eerie blue light emanating from what was left of the reactor core and shooting up like a laser beam straight into the night sky. Definitely required reading for anyone who remembers the incident, or anyone worried about the nuclear power, nuclear weapons, or the future. I distinctly remember how the news organizations from that time were tracking the radioactive cloud that traveled the in the jet stream of the northern hemisphere of the globe. If you don't already know about the Chernobyl accident, you should.
That's all of the links for now; now, it is back to work on those papers I mentioned in the beginning of the blog. I am getting over the worst of the writer's block, and I recently received some good news that I hope encourages me to success in the future. I'll probably post about that good news later, but for the time being, here's wishing myself luck.
Friday, September 03, 2004
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.
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.
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