There's a new link in my list over yonder, a site my brother pointed me to. It's cartoons based on spam headlines. Self-published original content via RSS is the way of the future, according to my HCI final paper. That means it's true.

I'm done. My last final was yesterday and it probably went well. I felt like I knew what I was talking about. There was one question that asked if video games were character driven or plot driven. I said character driven because the player experiences the game through the avatar and any emotional impact comes from the character, but in retrospect I could say that games are plot driven because the story and the environment define the character's actions and are shaped to reach a specific end and there isn't anything that the player can do to change the conclusion. Yup. This is like undergrad in that I keep thinking "you're letting me major in this?"

Here are some highlights from the semester:

• Arriving for the first day of grad orientation and finding out that I get a kickass graphics computer with a monitor as big as all outdoors.
• Finding out that my friend and former high school speech duo partner is enrolled in grad school here as well.
• Being pounced upon by Michelle while waiting in the buffet line and learning that I would be seeing her in every class, thus beginning the Meyers-Briggs mayhem of my existence here.
• Living next to Gerry, which means that I always have someone to read comics with, watch movies with, and hold my spare key so that I can get back into my apartment when I'm locked out in a t-shirt and pajama pants a half hour before I have to be ready to go to the Wynton Marsalis concert. Not my proudest moment.
• HCI class, where I had the distinct pleasure of being among a disparate group of geniuses for a few hours each week, often followed by a post-class trip to Scotty's.
• The narrative theory class where we did an ideological criticism of GTA: Vice City, and I got to play as the whole class watched. As I meandered around the game, I asked how antisocial I should be, and Michelle called across the room for me to "punch a hooker!" Grad level class. The matriarchal amazon woman in the class who is a good deal older than I was horrified that it was possible to do such things in a game. The look of horror on her face when she asked me if I enjoyed the game was priceless.
• The Halo 2 party.
  

For now I need a rest. I can't think of anything more to say, and I have a stack of good books from my friends to read.

Quoth the Cookie Monster:

Now what starts with the letter C?
Cookie starts with C
Let's think of other things
That starts with C
Oh, who cares about the other things?

C is for cookie, that's good enough for me
C is for cookie, that's good enough for me
C is for cookie, that's good enough for me
Oh, cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C

C is for cookie, that's good enough for me
C is for cookie, that's good enough for me
C is for cookie, that's good enough for me
Oh, cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C

(spoken)
Hey you know what?
A round cookie with one bite out of it
Looks like a C
A round donut with one bite out of it
Also looks like a C
But it is not as good as a cookie
Oh and the moon sometimes looks like a C
But you can't eat that, so

C is for cookie, that's good enough for me, yeah!
C is for cookie, that's good enough for me
C is for cookie, that's good enough for me
Oh, cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C, yeah!
Cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C, oh boy!
Cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C!

(Cookie Monster eats the cookie)
Umm-umm-umm-umm-umm

Yeah, that's right. I passed narrative theory. I get credit for that ordeal. My GPA will take a hit, but I should be alright. It doesn't matter much to me, though. An animator needs a good GPA like a fish needs a bicycle.

It was still better than art history.

Whenever I mention how much work I have to do, someone invariably tells me "only one more week" with the best of intentions. In truth, I'm all too aware that I only have a week or less to accomplish everything.

The creativity class Dust-O project is coming along well, I think. I've been match-moving for the past few nights and I have yet to figure out how to make the lips move how I want. I have a MEL scripting book that may offer some insight.

I'm genuinely worried about passing narrative theory. I talked to the professor and she gave me some good advice for the final, and I have a couple of friends who have offered to help. The bright side is that it's not art history or graphic design. I really hated those classes.

Digital storytelling class is OK, I suppose. I'm not sure how I'll do there. Not great, but not terrible.

Human computer interaction is my favorite class, though the final paper is huge and I have yet to actually type anything. I have plenty of research, though. My topic is Bittorrent as a content delivery system, and I plan to include information about RSS, as the two work together effectively.

Aside from all of that, things are going well. I like the people I get to work and study with, and without them I don't know if I'd still be here. Coming to grad school was, in some ways, a bad idea. If I am as intelligent as some people say, it doesn't show here. This is still my only way out of a lifetime of servile retail work and hopefully my ticket out of Indiana. This state eats youth to fuel a dead economy. Everywhere I've worked, I've seen several people who could be better used in other fields. Great writers, philosophers, and historians reduced to hocking Dan Brown novels and other airport terminal best sellers. Then I hear about people my age and younger in other states doing great rewarding work and living better than I can even fathom. I have to get out. Currently I'm thinking Boston. I don't know what's there for me in my field, but I know it has to be better than where I am now.

I went to my first BSU basketball game last night. I don't see it becoming my favorite thing in the world, but it was enjoyalbe. We won, which was exciting enough. The reason I mention this event at all is because of something that I found funny. (Is there ever any other reason I mention sports, really?) It is customary for the crowd to stand and clap during the fight song; this much I remember from high school. I didn't feel like standing after the day I had lugging camera equipment around the library, so I remained in my red plastic seat. The hunchbacked octagenarian woman in front of me, however, fought her way to the closest thing to a standing position she could manage to cheer for the team. I felt kind of ashamed to be so slothful, but I still didn't get up. I'm a grad student, for heaven's sake.

The semester will be over soon, and I'm already considering a project for next semester. I want to make something interactive, though I'm not clear on what. Is something interactive just because it has a clickable menu? I define true interactivity with immersion and a sense of agency. A video game is interactive, while a VCR menu is merely an interface. I'll have ample time to develop this by experimenting with interactive interfaces in an extensive joint study I plan to do in conjunction with my brother, a classics major at Kenyon.

The following is an actual conversation I had this morning. The screen names have been changed to avoid IM spam.

(11:14:26) firesetterninja: I miss my dichotomy studies.

(11:15:07) firesetterninja: there's still a big huge comm geek inside me just waiting for the opportunity break out at a moment

(11:15:47) elvee: At what point did "dichotomy" become a real word? Seriously, this was not a term invented by hunter-gatherer society.

(11:16:29) firesetterninja: how about when we moved beyond the hunter gatherer society? :-) Burke argues that the use of the negative was the point when this all changed.

(11:16:39) firesetterninja: because the negative does not exist in nature.

(11:16:52) firesetterninja: it was at that point that we began to think in the abstract

(11:17:37) elvee: There was a point in human history when the brain evolved to think in abstract concepts.

(11:17:44) firesetterninja: I dont know if that was the answer you wanted.

(11:18:01) firesetterninja: exactly. the closest we can pinpoint is to the understanding of the "not"

(11:18:16) firesetterninja: which stood as the basis for dichotomy and metaphor

(11:18:27) elvee: That makes sense, actually.

(11:18:30) firesetterninja: and where would we be in abstraction without that?

(11:18:52) firesetterninja: yes! I RULE! I just explained burke to an animator. :-)

(11:19:06) elvee: I'd say that we wouldn't have abstraction, but that would be a negative, so I fear my brain is tied in knots.

(11:19:14) elvee: Good job. You get a cookie.

(11:19:14) firesetterninja: now, this all ties in with perspective by incongruity....but that's a whole other lecture. :-)

The work here seems to have let up a bit. I'm ready for this semester to be over so that I can get on with something educational and worthwhile. Narrative theory makes my intestines bleed, but everything else is going along well enough. I think Human Computer Interaction is my favorite class, even though I don't talk much and I stumble through the material I present as if I've never had any sort of public speaking experience. Creativity as a class is a little grating lately; the last few guest speakers have been very boring. The work outside of creativity class is fun, though. I'm working on making lip-synch animations for puppets made out of dusters called "dust-os". Digital storytelling class is good enough, but kind of pointless. I got to talk about video games while we were on the subject the other day, then it was back to things I really don't care that much about. I'm not opposed to the material, but I really can't make myself care about usage studies of a handful of NPR station websites. My job is getting a little more hectic now. I'm finally moved in to a new office with working internet and a festive purple wall. The library video I shot a few weeks ago looks like crap, so I'll be reshooting after break. The problem was that I did the whole thing myself after I told people that I know how to shoot video. Suddenly I'm in charge of shooting and editing a video tour of the library all alone. Robert Rodriguez did less on El Mariachi. This time I get to have lights set up and my boss will direct, so I don't have to do everything myself.

I saw Squeaky today, eating in the atrium and talking louder than anyone really has to outside of the base of Niagara falls. I don't know why I'm so fascinated with this little misanthrope. Maybe it's his oddly shaped bald spot surrounded by preposterously curly hair, maybe it's that he reminds me of a duck/rodent love child, maybe it's because he wanted to start a heated argument in the only swanky bar in town. I just don't know.

Outside of school, things are good, or so I'm told- I wouldn't know. For whatever reason, everyone I hang out with left for the weekend. Not left as in Indy or Cleveland, left as in boarded an airplane and crossed several state lines. Tomorrow night I'm going to see a concert at the Heorat. Good bye, lungs, liver, and brain cells; I wanna rock.

So, what can I say about the election that hasn't been said already? I'm no fan of most pundits from any side, and I'm really not all that well-versed in politics domestic or foreign. As appalled as I am at the result, I do see how it happened.

A topic that doesn't come up quite as often as it should is the growing divide in America between the mid-to-upper-class and the lower class. The middle class from the past forty years has split noticeably in the past decade, mostly since 1999/2000 and the start of the recession. Manufacturing and skilled labor jobs have been moving out of our borders for years, irregardless of who sits in the oval office or policy, be it Reaganomics or NAFTA. Most of these jobs were based in small towns, where the atmosphere is conducive to small business with low overhead and return. With diminished local economy, small towns have fallen apart. The people are still there, though, because for many it's all they know. Moving to somewhere more viable isn't an option for the older generation that live on the same street they were born on.

The social stigma of being poor in a small town is perhaps a larger factor. The popular vernacular refers to them as derisively as "white trash," and as affectionately as "redneck." I'm no better, I admit. The average person in a small town dresses sensibly and purely for utility on a normal day, never like anything from Vogue. Urban popular culture shifts with the wind and the internet. Small towns, as a rule, do not. Tradition and simplicity are valued by a fiercely proud manufacturing class. With the loss of manufacturing and small businesses, a large degree of pride and purpose were lost as well. Agriculture has been in similar shape. Young people are urged to escape from small towns to pursue opportunity, assuming they can afford it. Often the only employment to be found is at large national chain retailers. Workers dress in cute little uniforms and adhere to dehumanizing policies under perma-day lights. This is a far cry from the locally owned furniture factory where the foreman knew each employee by name.

With these facets of small town culture fading away, it seems that the people in these areas have fallen back on the one thing that cannot be exported away: the church. Poverty and religion have always gone hand-in-hand because of the solidarity found in both. Evangelical Christianity has swelled to enormous levels all over the country, and I believe that this is the reason. The community within this establishment is some of the last vestige of humanity to be found in some of these small communities.

This is exactly where the right wing found traction. Historically the aristocracy has avoided contact with what they view as peasantry, often with disastrous results. The French Revolution comes to mind. The American ruling class has been different since the revolution, though. They know where their labor comes from, and where their soldiers come from. The American Revolution was, as my old history professor put it: "a rich man's war, a poor man's fight." The Republican Party plays this angle well historically, dressing up as common folk when they have to.

Many in the fifty-one percent of voters claimed to have voted based on "values." These things have nothing to do with how to run a country, nothing to do with the economy or health care or education; nothing to do with the prosperity of a nation. Have small town communities really become so disconnected from the rest of the world? If so, then this is a problem. This means that the majority of America is disconnected like this. They voted for what they see as the survival of their way of life, never mind what else was riding on the ballot.

I don't know how to fix this, but something must be done. A large portion of the population has become economically obsolete, but it is still important to recognize them as human and therefore possessing potential. Apparently, just paying them lip service is enough to become president.

If there is a witness to my little life,
To my tiny throes and struggles,
He sees a fool;
And it is not fine for gods to menace fools.

-Stephen Crane

Have you ever heard the phrase "busier than a one legged man in an ass kicking contest?" That would be me. Here's a recap of things that are worth mentioning.

Halloween was fun. I dressed as Alex from A Clockwork Orange, complete with codpiece. I've never been punched in the balls so many times in one night. The party host hit me, strangers hit me, Gerry hit me, I hit me, it was not the sort of thing I envisioned a year ago when I decided to come here. It was multicultural too- kids from Japan were lined up to cheapshot me in the fellas at Gerry's friend's house. Gad, what a weird night. The coolest costumes: Flint from GI Joe, and a girl with a post-it note on her that said "Hello, my name is Dave Coulier."

My election reaction blog post is kind of long, so I'll post it later.

I'm tentatively looking for a creative project advisor now. I've been carefully evaluating people, and I'm quite sure of one comittee member. The rest will come in time. I'll be pretty low-maintainance, so I just need somebody who is cool with new media and knows production pretty well. More on this as it develops.

I haven't seen Squeaky lately, which is for the best. I have learned that other people have seen possums outside my window on different occasaions, which is forboding.

Here's something my family will enjoy. By family, I mean my brother, but others might get a chuckle. Hamlet's soliloquy for socks: link

As I'm typing this, there's a geeky guy at the computer on the other side of the table helping a cute girl with photoshop. I'm quietly cheering for him.

I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving already. You know the semester is bad when I look forward to a break. This is because I'm in the vaccuum of unapplied theory hell. If it weren't for the dust-o's project, I'd be climbing the belltower with my hat backwards as we speak.

I'm still formulating my opinion about the election, but here's a nice article I found that helps put things into perspective. link

As of this post:

CNN projects: Bush in the lead.

Fox news projects: Open season on A-rabs 'n civil rights queers!

I project: "cancel my subscription to the resurrection; send my credentials to the house of detention"

I care about this election quite a bit more than I've cared in past years. I worry about the future of the country, because I see pictures of my boss's daughters every day at work, with their goofy little kid grins, and I think about the country that they'll grow up in. I'm kind of okay with America falling apart, as I take an optimistic view of it. The Brittish empire fell pretty hard and fast, and England eventually found it's footing again. Every country goes through an asshole phase (Germany, Italy, England, Germany again, N Korea, Russia, N Korea again?), ultimately falling from whatever superpower status they had. But they recover eventually. I've been screwed over by world events well out of my control in the past few years, and yet I think I'll be okay because I at least got a running start during the last economic and cultural boom. I'm probably over reacting, but I needed to vent that, hence the purpose of a blog.

I've tried twice to post in the past week, and both times the system screwed up. If this makes it, it'll be nothing short of a miracle. Not that it matters, though. North Korea could nuke us and the EM pulse would probably wipe out this blog. Don't blame me- I voted for Kodos.

I've got a paper due tomorrow for narrative theory, and I really don't like that class. It's not as bad as art history, but I really don't think I'm getting anything out of it but dent in my gpa. (I think I actually have to care about my gpa now, in order to stay in the program.) There's one old lady who talks in a bizarre meter and says "m-hm" repeatedly. It's like listening to that old Crash Test Dummies song in fast forward. I am encouraged by this, though. The third bullet point especially.

I've got some good stories from this past weekend that I'll try to post when I have time.

I'm up to my arse in work, but I still feel the need to post. It's a kind of validation, I guess. I have no actual news. All I have is frustration that there are possibly only two copies of the Cambridge companion to Goethe in the state, both in Fort Wayne. Go Red Sox.

Today's news will carry some measure of schadenfreude for my brother. The rest of you probably haven't known me as well or as long. I'm getting reading glasses. (I'll pause now, for Michael's friends to retrieve the defibrillator from the closet and start his heart again.) My vision is good, better than what the Air Force requires of jet pilots. However, I haven't been reading very well lately. This has probably been the case for quite a while, as the only materials I have been able to read at length are things that don't require prolonged focus on small print. Comic books, e-mail, and some magazines are easier because I can refocus my eyes periodically. In summary, only sub-grad level, or sub-Michelle. Making up new terms for things is fun.

I took a little side trip to the new instrument store on Jefferson. They have a nice selection of guitars and amps, as well as a lovely young woman who showed me a guitar and amp that I'm thinking about purchasing at some point. Well, sort of. The amp isn't that much, and it really sounds nice, but $230 is something I'm going to need this summer in Italy. The guitar is way out of my price range; Victory-class Star Destroyer expensive. It sounds fabulous, though, even in the hands of a hack like me. Maybe I'll focus my energies on concocting a scheme to tie this nice stuff in to my studies and get a grant for it. Yes, that's the ticket.

This is my first Fall break ever. USF didn't believe in such luxuries, but we did get a "reading day". I don't mind the break, considering how the semester has gone. It's been nothing but reading thus far, aside from my GA job. Sometimes the reading is important for class, but most of the time it's never discussed. Theory is all well and good, but I need some way to apply it or it goes in one ear and out the other like a TV commercial. What really sold me on the program was the tour I got last spring from my advisor. I liked his attitude, and I liked the building: a two-story toy box for super-powered AV equipment courtesy of a massive chunk of change from Lilly. The digital storytelling program is full of great people from several backgrounds, and I feel fortunate to have met them. With so much positive, I feel bad complaining that I'm bored and lost. I've been told that grad school is supposed to be a sort of do-it-yourself education. This would be great, if I had enough time to take any sort of initiative outside of my classes. Things look better in the long-term, as my course load will lighten and probably include something more technical. Ah well, end rant. The rest will do me good.

Last night I went to see Sarah Vowell read at Butler University. She was great, and I wrote down a few lines that made me laugh. They make more sense if you've read her books. For those of you who read nothing but Greek and Douglas Adams, or read only as much as you absolutely have to, here is what you need to know: the author loves history and pop culture, and often relates the two.

"I learned that John Kerry is descended from John Winthrop, which I found thrilling."

Speaking about the guilt that comes from being raised to be a nice girl, the "guilt that becomes narcissistic", she thinks about Pol Pot: "Whatever I've done, are there piles of skulls lying around? Most of the time, no."

"Assassinations are my Kevin Bacon" -referring to her ability to relate anything to a presidential assassination.

Comparing working at NPR to working at Pixar:"It's like a scratchy brown sweater vs a Cosby sweater."

It was an enjoyable evening. I got a signed copy of her first book, "Radio On", and even she was incredulous when I told her my name was Loyal. I had to spell it.

Today is my birthday. It's been a good day of web design work thus far. Well, that and blogging. I alternate back and forth. Tonight I'm going out to dinner with my friend Michelle, and later I'm going out with a huge gaggle of fools. A confederacy of fools? A murder of fools? Whatever. It'll be fun. I'll report the details that are appropriate for the internet tomorrow.

Check out these articles from McSweeney's. They made me laugh.
# # #

Here is the news I wanted to post yesterday, but couldn't because I was busy. I got to take a tour of Paws Inc, the place where Garfield is drawn. As much as I tried to maintain my composure, I was giddy over getting to see the place. I used to read Garfield books and collect as much Garfield memorabilia as I could when I was younger, so getting to see all of this was really great. Doc was the tour guide. I'd seen him before a few years ago at the Castle Gallery show where I met Jim Davis (I sang what I could remember of the Abu-Dhabi song and he laughed). What really impressed me about the whole facility is that it's the family business. It's global and very successful, but it's run mostly by relatives.

I just read this- Sarah Vowell will be at Butler U tomorrow night at 7:30. She's one of my favorite authors, and she also did voice acting for Pixar's "The Incredibles." I'm pretty sure I can make that- I get off work at 5:30, but I might be able to knock off a little earlier. This geeks me out on a cerebral level.

It's Tuesday, I'm hungry, and I really don't have time to blog now. But, I do have a couple of links I feel a strong need to post.

The visual thesaurus is probably something somebody is trying to sell, but the demo on the site is fun to mess around with. Little by little, hypertext is taking over, and I for one welcome our benevolent technological overlords. Please don't crush me.

A New Kind of Science, by Stephen Wolfram, is now online. The whole thing. The immense mass of it is capable of forming and supporting a life-sustaining atmosphere, given time. That's just how big it is.

More actual news tomorrow if I live through today.

Any big news I might have to post here has already been covered by my fellow bloggers. Gerry covered the season's end for the Cubs, and my brother posted this glorious news. Beyond shameless plugs for other blogs I love, there's really only one piece of blogworthy news left.

The other night, long after the sun had gone down, I was walking to my car to drive to Walmart. I was parked behind my building, near the windows of my single-bedroom subterranean. As I fumbled with my keys, I noticed motion in the shadows of the building behind a few plants. Neighborhood cats often walk past my window, so I assumed the slinking shadow to be feline. I called to the cat in the voice I reserve for animals smaller than a breadbox, but I could tell something was amiss. My eyes adjusted to the dark, and in the ambient orange glow of a street light half a block away, I saw the true beastly form of the creature under my window. A possum. Those of you who read this with any regularity may recall that I had a run-in with a possum last winter. I made a powerful enemy that cold day, not just in an ill-tempered rodent, but in a primal force of nature. The genetic memory of the north American possum is forever ingrained with the knowledge of "tall one, hurler of ice." We recognized each other, there in the night behind my apartment. He knows where I live, and we both know that there won't be any snow on the ground for at least a month or more, thus putting me at a marked disadvantage. This isn't over.