It's Gonna Be A Nice Day

My boss is sick today, so I will not be going in to work. I’ve got about 6 hours of school work I need to do, so this works out perfectly. My boss is sick, though, so that sucks. Fever, sore throat, sounds kind of like strep. I hope not, because that is quite unpleasant.

I don’t have a whole lot to say right now, mainly because nothing has happened yet today. I’m staring at a stack of books and articles that need my attention, and it makes me a little bit sad. I missed a great show last night (Traindodge and Captured By Robots!) and I’m missing Alma’s funeral right now because I have so much damn work to do. I know some people love November, but I’m not really liking it this year.

Speaking of, I found out yesterday that I’m not getting paid for the study as quickly as I thought. I might not get paid until after Christmas. That might mean some crummy presents from me this year, but it increases the likelihood that the money will eventually facilitate my (possible, fingers crossed!) trip to Vancouver this spring. That would be awesome. It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen my friend Roo and his wife. Silver lining? Sweet and Sour Grapes? I don’t know, but I was recently accused of being a “weepy little fucking emo kid,” so I’m trying a lot harder to find the good. Of course this same person accused my of being Brock-like (which very few of you will understand, but trust me, in the context it was not a good thing), so maybe I should consider the validity of the source.

Speaking of finding the good, tonight brings us the last new episode of Lost until 2006 (which really isn’t that far away, but damn if that doesn’t sound dramatic!). I’ve still got three episodes I need to watch (not including tonight’s), so it’s not so sad for me that there are no more new episodes because I still have four new episodes. If I know anything, it’s that four is more than zero.

So today I will finish writing an outline of “The United Nations in the Post-Cold War Era” by Karen A. Mingst & Margaret P. Karns, and I will start/finish writing an outline for a paper arguing that the international mainstream mass media is the most powerful of Louis Althusser’s Ideological State Apparatuses. At no point will there be sexy dancing from a bevy of Brazilian supermodels in my life on this day. I guess that makes it like every other day in my life.

Oh, and remember how I said I wasn’t going to work? Well, one of my people forgot to open the lab this morning, so I rushed down there, filthy and without a either my iPod or clean underwear, to open the lab. She showed up, and I got to go back home. Yeah for denouement.

[Check this out at blog.myspace.com/moontos and xanga.com/moontos where you can also hear a nice song]

The News Comes Fiber Optic-Style, Hardly In The Nick Of Time.

I thought I was pretty much inured to the quirks of digital communication. I’ve had a cell phone since 1998, and I’d been using e-mail since 1993 and the world wide web since 1994. I thought there was nothing new under the digital sun, nothing that would surprise me. Well, I got a big surprise today in my inbox. When I checked my gmail this morning I found the following message, forwarded from my brother, waiting for me:

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Bruce Joseph
Date: Nov 27, 2005 10:55 PM
Subject: Aunt Alma
To: xxxxxx@aptalaska.net, xxxxxxxxx@sill.army.mil, xxxxxxx@aol.com, xxxxx@adacomp.net, xxxxxx@arbuckleonline.com, xxxxxxxxxxx@aipf-vietnam.org, xxxxxxxxx@gmail.com, xxxxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com, xxxxxxxx@comcast.net, xxxxxxx@brightok.net, xxxxxxx@brightok.net, xxxxxxxxx@aol.com, xxxxxxxxx@sbcglobal.net

Dear All
Nursing Home nurse just called me to report Aunt Alma has just died. The nurse was unable to get Nate to answer the phone. I am going from OKC to Ardmore, now to tell Nate.
I talked to Nate about 6:00 pm and he said he had not visited her today. She has had several good days lately.
She has given me instructions for services and people to notify. Craddock Funeral Home in Ardmore will be providing services and burial will be in Ringling Cemetery. If anyone has any choice for day and or time, please let me know and we will try to accommodate.
You may e-mail me or telephone 405.xxx.xxxx. I carry phone and pda with me and will check e-mail periodically.

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

I’ve always hated Thanksgiving, even before I was a grumbly vegan chewing on steamed broccoli, but I’m glad we made a big deal of it this year. On Thursday my dad, my mom, Jeb and I went to Ardmore to have lunch with Nate and to see Alma. Alma was the matriarch of our little family, and I know she loved us all very much. For the last 15 years she was the closest to a grandmother that I had, and it is heartbreaking to think of her and Nate separated. Like so many of us, I miss her already.

You usually never think about whether or not this time will be the last time you see someone, but sometimes it is. Both Alma and Nate reached their 90’s and both were having a surprisingly good day when we saw them. Still, I spent Friday, Saturday and Sunday thinking about them and about growing old. Honestly, I’m not sold on the idea. But I guess it beats the alternative.

I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, exactly, or even why. Oh well. Time to put on my game face and go to work.

[Yeah, I’m still going to post this at xanga.com/moontos and at blog.myspace.com/moontos]

I’m Not The Hero I Could Be, But I’m Not The Dog I Was

I broke a vow I made to myself tonight. I didn’t make the vow tonight, I made it a while ago, but it became necessary to break it tonight. No, see it wasn’t even necessary. It was convenient. I tried like hell to keep myself strong, to stay true to my beliefs and my principles, but when it came time to be the man I want to be, the man I think I could be, my resolve crumbled and I turned out to be as weak and horrible as I always feared. I could blame it on circumstances, on desperation, or any one of a myriad external causes, but in truth I have no one to blame but myself.

I shopped at Wal-Mart tonight.

I know, I’m a hypocrite. I’m a horrible person. I feel like I just ate a big bag of veal while riding in the back of a stretch Hummer. If you’re into gruesome (yet boring and tedious) details, you’ll enjoy the rest of this post.

It all started this past spring. Yeah, it really did. I was making preparations for a month in the United Kingdom, and I checked to see if my Motorola v220 would work overseas. It turns out that Vodafone uses that model in the U.K. I tested the phone with a SIM card from another network, just to be sure it was not locked to Cingular, and took off for the land of Queens and Bowies. Long story short, although it may be too late for that, my v220’s charger fell victim to the eccentricities of British electricity shortly after my arrival. To compensate, I purchased a Sagem my-v55, the cheapest pay-as-you-go model to use in the U.K. (I couldn’t find a v220 charger, in case you were wondering) and brought it back to the States so I wouldn’t have to shell out cash for a new Motorola charger. It worked okay, but lately it has had some... quirks. It generates a text message each time I have a voice mail (at 10¢ a pop), and has had some difficulties in finding the Cingular network. Also, I am only able to charge it through a special WindowsXP program on my desktop computer, which is not exactly convenient.

This weekend, I decided it was time to bite the damn bullet and buy a new charger for the v220. Did I find it online? No. Did they have it at the Cingular Store? Sadly, no. Was it at Target? BestBuy? No, and no. Was it at Wal-Mart? God help me, it was. I bought a car charger and a wall adapter for $16 altogether. And it works. It works great. Now I can’t use the phone anymore without thinking about how I contributed, knowingly, to... no, it’s too horrible.

So next time I get uppity about the DVD player or groceries you bought at Hell-Mart, just ask me how my phone is treating me.

I’m such a filthy turd.

[Late edit: I'm posting simultaneously here, at blog.myspace.com/moontos and at xanga.com/moontos until I figure out which one I like best]

I'm Tense And Nervous, And I Can't Relax.

I don't have time for a full-on post, nor do I have any recent pickey-tures, so I'm going to include the results from an Internet personality test. I had to remove all the HTML coding, but I have not altered the results in any way. Here goes.

Extraversion |||||||||||| 46%
Stability |||||||||| 40%
Orderliness |||||||||||||| 53%
Accommodation |||||||||||||||| 70%
Interdependence |||||||||||||| 56%
Intellectual |||||||||||||||||||| 83%
Mystical |||||||||||||||| 70%
Artistic |||||||||||||||| 70%
Religious |||||||||||| 43%
Hedonism |||||||||||| 50%
Materialism |||||||||||||| 56%
Narcissism |||||||||||||||| 70%
Adventurousness |||||| 30%
Work ethic |||||||||||||| 56%
Self absorbed |||||||||| 36%
Conflict seeking |||||||||| 36%
Need to dominate ||||||30%
Romantic |||||||||||||||| 63%
Avoidant |||||| 23%
Anti-authority |||||||||||| 43%
Wealth |||||| 30%
Dependency |||||||||||||||| 63%
Change averse |||||||||||| 50%
Cautiousness |||||||||||| 50%
Individuality |||||||||||| 43%
Sexuality |||||||||||||||| 70%
Peter pan complex |||||| 30%
Physical security |||||||||||||||| 70%
Physical Fitness |||| 17%
Histrionic |||||||||||| 43%
Paranoia |||||||||||||| 56%
Vanity |||||||||||||| 56%
Hypersensitivity |||||||||||||| 56%
Female cliche |||| 16%

Stability results were moderately low which suggests you are worrying, insecure, emotional, and anxious.

Orderliness results were medium which suggests you are moderately organized, hard working, and reliable while still remaining flexible, efficient, and fun.

Extraversion results were medium which suggests you are moderately talkative, outgoing, sociable and interacting.

Trait Snapshot: paranoid tendencies, irritable, anxious, fidgety, dependent, worrying, emotionally sensitive, prone to regret, depressed, second guesses self, somewhat fragile, dislikes change, prefers organized to unpredictable, suspicious, phobic, craves attention, not a risk taker, low self control, very sensitive to criticism, unadventurous, does not make friends easily, defensive, obsessive, low self esteem.

Isn't that great? I'm not sure what "Peter Pan Complex: 30%" means, but combine it with "Sexuality: 70%" and maybe we've got something to talk about.

Happy Thanksgiving! Try not to eat too much flesh!

Edit: 14:59: Okay, I do have some pickey-tures (is that annoying yet?)

Radio Only Plays One Song, Plays It A Thousand Times At Once.

If karma really is a tally of the comfort you bring others and the pain you take from them, I think this weekend has been a wash.

I gave to friends who needed my help, family who needed my attention, and strangers who needed an afternoon's diversion. But I'm afraid I said some pretty damn unkind things to one friend in particular, one who would never say them to me, and I really wish that I had not. I'm rarely able to be direct with any level of my normal kindness intact, which is why I rarely try. I only hope that I didn't really fuck up as bad as I think I did. Not exactly a unique position to be in, I know. It seems that all we do in this world is try not to get hurt and (usually) try not to hurt each other too much. Sometimes we're not as good at it as we think.

Well, I'll find out soon enough if I'm as bad a communicator as I think, or not, and hopefully I'll have the chance to repair any damage I did. In the meantime, I can at least take comfort in the fact that I'm through coding for the study (well, actually I still have to code 23 stories from another coder's batch in order to calculate inter-coder reliability, but that doesn't count).

The Ink Is Dry, And So Am I. Is Any Feeling Worse?

I hate content analysis. That's it. My last post was 938 words. This one will be remarkably shorter. Enjoy some pickey-tures of industrial dryers and me brushing my teeth. Incidentally, "Huebsch" is a German word that means nice. No more words.

Here's To What The Future Brings

I've had a pretty strange week so far. Some things changed, others stayed the same, but more than anything else I think I'm the probably not the same person I was four years ago. I think I'm happy about that.

When I was in undergrad here in Norman, I used to drive out to Lake Thunderbird (aka Dirtybird) to clear my head. Generally whatever it was that was bothering me would simmer and stew as I made the 10 mile drive out there, and once I got out of the car to walk around, it would all float out of me like soap out of a sponge. I did that again this week, for the first time in four years, and discovered it doesn't work anymore. I walked around that filthy pond for a good half hour with no relief, just muddy shoes and a less-full gas tank. I don't know if I'm less Zen than I was at 22 or if maybe my problems are more substantial. I would usually offer some bit of hidden logic at this point, but I don't have any. I really don't know. Hopefully the rest of this week will get better (I think I may have caught something from children I was exposed to, but I went to sleep early last night and I have experienced decreasing symptoms, so things are looking up). If it doesn't, oh well. The next portion of this post will be devoted to wins and losses:

Win: I passed a really confusing part of "Call of Cthulhu: Dark Corners of the Earth"
Loss: I'm stuck again
Win: I now have a piss-pot of Cure songs on my iPod
Loss: My iPod is full
Loss: I thought today was the 17th, so I called my Mom to wish her a happy birthday. She was very nice when she corrected me.
Loss: Discovered that the .m4v files from iTunes cannot be burned to DVD or VCD. Grrrrrr
Win: I think my friends are all going to be happy and okay for a while longer, which is all anyone can really hope for
Win: Tonight I had multigrain flaxseed bread from Albertson's for dinner. I dipped some of it in olive oil and ate it over the kitchen sink. Is that a Win or a Loss?
Loss: Discovered that hack Aaron Sorkin also takes some of his titles from song lyrics. *Sigh* I really should stop thinking of myself as creative, original, or interesting in any way.
Win: I have paid all my bills
Loss: Wait, no I forgot about my Bursar bill. Goddamnit.
Win: I got $20 off my prescription at Walgreen's yesterday
Loss: It was still $175

The third portion of this post will be an attempt to determine which is deadlier: Zombies with chainsaws or Zombie Dogs. This is taken from an email I sent to Dave:

Chainsaw-Wielding Zombie vs. Zombie Dogs:

Speed: this one goes to the doggies. Chainsaws are heavy, people only have two legs, and dogs can jump like mother fuckers.

Tenacity: Chainsaws run out of gas and experience technical problems, leading to some serious Zombie-Fatigue. Dogs have nothing better to do than keep on biting. And they won't stop until you blow their goddamn heads off.

Singles: Okay, this one goes to the CWZs. One dog can possibly be dispatched by a well-placed kick, stab, or god-willing, a 9mm parabellum round. A maniacal zombie with a chainsaw requires much more stopping power. Something in the shotgun or grenade family is usually helpful.

Groups: Oh fuck! A pack of zombie dogs will take you to prom and not the easy way, my friends. A bunch of shambling undead with chainsaws, on the other hand, tend to bump into each other, which will balance out their end of the equation, if you catch my drift (those are some new metaphors I'm testing out, let me know if they're helpful).

Sheer Terror Factor (a.k.a. OH SHIT!): Well this one is a toss-up. What's scarier than an inhuman growling coming from the darkened undergrowth all around you? Possibly a distant inhuman scream followed closely by a chainsaw roaring to life. Too close to call.

Worst-Case Scenario: In the WCS we examine how your potential death will rate at the hands of either enemy. This point has to go to the dogs. Whereas a chainsaw usually leads to a pretty quick (and painful) end to your movie, a dog gnawing on your innards is the kind of thing Hallmark makes no cards for (more new metaphors... understandable?).

Final score: Zombie Dogs 4; Chainsaw-Wielding Zombies 1.*

*Anthony justly points out that Zombie dogs can be quite sneaky, lurking and waiting for the right moment to strike, whereas a Zombie with a Chainsaw could only sneak up on folks at Sturgis during the Harley convention or possibly at a school for the deaf.

The final portion of this post is a first for biblebeltbabylon: Pictures!

This is the best lamp ever. That it still eludes my grasp is an unending source of torment and personal shame for me.















It's kind of hard to make out, but this is a picture of the rapture. Seriously, it's like someone disappereard and left all their clothes on the sidewalk. My boss thinks it must be the work of an art student. I think it's more likely Jesus came back and only found one of us who didn't suck.







This is a chair that I found sitting out at Lake Thunderbird. It must be the end result of a very good evening.

Much like this post.

The Television Tries To Scare Us, But We Belong

Freedom is a funny thing. It’s always limited, and it seems that everyone has a different idea of where those limitations lie. Recently The Onion came under fire from the Bush administration for what the administration considered inappropriate usage of the Presidential Seal. The rest of us might just consider it humorous, or, God help us, an exercise in free press. And let’s also remember that the seal belongs to us all. It is not the property of whatever jackal happens to live at 1600 Penn Ave. Now, I don’t mention this idly, in case you were wondering. This week is First Amendment Week. Yeah, it gets an entire week, then we can get back to dismantling it for the other 51. Do we appreciate the freedom we have to express ourselves? Do we understand it? Do we abuse it? Who the hell knows. But, for now, we still have it... warts and all. And if we don’t like it, we’re free to pick up a pen or a keyboard and try to change it.

I also mentioned The Onion because I was deeply troubled by two minor stories this week. The first was about a woman who arouses suspicions in her neighborhood after subscribing to The Nation. I subscribe to The Nation. The next little blurb was about a young girl whose life begins a downward spiral after checking out a Piers Anthony book at her school library. I read Piers Anthony when I was a kid. Ouch.

It’s stupid, but sometimes I still worry about fitting in, about being cool enough---basically about gaining the tacit approval of complete strangers. It happened last week when Kam and I journeyed into the depths of 747 on Campus Corner. We had to wait in line, first off, which made me feel ridiculous. Once inside the club, however, I felt even more uncomfortable, and not because we looked different (which we most certainly did), and certainly not because we were outsiders. No, I felt really uncool once I saw people I knew, friends even, and suddenly I had no idea how to relate to them anymore. I also couldn’t stop thinking about a slew of articles I printed out for my PoliSci class that I needed to read.

At this point in the post, I usually revert to my pattern of “delayed thesis,” and today is no different. See, I worry about being cool enough, as though I ever could be. I subscribe to The Nation, I read (past tense) Piers Anthony, and I own a copy of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer Board Game. That’s who I am, and that’s all I know how to be. I could pop my collar, wear tan sneakers, or do whatever the hell else is cool this week, but in the back of my mind I would still be thinking about the articles I have to read, or comparing Futurama to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and hating myself the entire time. So, I guess that’s the point. There’s no point in hating yourself just to get other people to like you.

Cordelia taught us that.

Soon She’ll Be A Star

For my twentieth post, I have compiled a list of all the songs I have stolen lyrics from to provide the catchy and contextually cogent titles for my posts. These artists are excellent. If I’m real ambitious, I might come back and put in hotlinks to the websites. Also, I would like to offer a digital shout-out to my friend Kelly who is now in graduate school, studying counseling psychology. Way to go, Kelly. I’m so proud of you.

So, here's the list:

1/11/2005
I Want to Pledge Allegiance to the Country Where I Live
Desaparecidos “The Happiest Place on Earth”

1/11/2005
If You Close the Door the Night Can Last Forever
Rilo Kiley “Afterhours”

1/12/2005
Show a Little Faith, There's Magic in the Night
Bruce Springsteen “Thunder Road”

1/14/2005
We'll Have Problems, Yeah, Then We'll Have Bigger Ones
Harvey Danger “Problems and Bigger Ones”

1/24/2005
(Keep Your Conscience in the Dark)
R.E.M. “Fall On Me”

1/27/2005
Day After Day it Reappears
Lazlo Bane (Men at Work cover) “Overkill”

1/28/2005
And Now it's Time to Say What I Forgot to Say
Fountains of Wayne “Radiation Vibe”

1/31/2005
You Do it to Yourself, You Do and That's What Really Hurts
Radiohead “Just”

3/08/2005
Take a Break From Everyday
Guided By Voices “Atom Eyes”

3/11/2005
Slightly Bored And Severely Confused
The Postal Service “Sleeping In”

4/19/2005
A Tired Man With Only Hours to Go
Elliott Smith “Ballad of Big Nothing”

8/02/2005
I Know Where I'll Be Tonight
Wilco “Outtasite (Outta Mind)”

8/22/2005
Never Find an Answer that Fits in Your Plans
Hüsker Dü “Indecision Time”

8/23/2005
Cease to Resist Giving My Goodbye
The Pixies “Wave of Mutilation”

9/11/2005
Say What You’re Supposed to Say
Veda “Still Standing”

9/20/2005
Feelings, Sensations that You Thought Were Dead, No Squealing, Remember (That it's All in Your Head)
Gorillaz “Clint Eastwood”

10/04/2005
What Do We Get For Our Trouble and Pain?
Club 8 “What Shall We Do Next?”

10/05/2005
I Know You Plan Out Everything That You Want To Say
Tegan and Sara “I Bet It Stung”

11/02/2005
I Tried, But the Old Devils, They Found Me in My Room
John Vanderslice “White Plains”

11/05/2005
Soon She’ll Be A Star
Papas Fritas “People Say”

I Tried, But the Old Devils, They Found Me in My Room

Here’s a favorite passage of mine from March 11th of this year: “I'm also stoked that I have finally (I hope) finished coding the content I was working on for one of the profs here in the J-School. It was like pulling my own teeth, and I have discovered that content analysis may not be for me.” In fact, after that I swore that I would never again participate in a content analysis, and that I would certainly never again be a participant in a study using someone else’s methodology. Well, I’m doing both right now. And it is frustrating the hell out of me. Honestly, how do you argue with a tenured professor, a Ph.D. no less, about how he has defined his variables and categories? The answer, I am finding out, is you don’t. I’m not sure how many of you are familiar with the process behind a content analysis (and those of you who are should probably go outside and throw yourselves in the street), but there is a process, usually quite lengthy, of fist fights, coding data, arguing about who is coding properly, re-coding some data, and more fist fights before you actually begin the real work. Well, we don’t have time for that amount of fighting and acrimony, so I find myself biting my lip and swallowing the minority opinion in favor of just getting the damn thing over with (sounds like prom night). After all, I’m getting paid. Sometimes that thought comforts me, sometimes it makes me feel like a dirty whore. It’s last semester all over again, and all this quantitative work is giving me brain fevers. I need to do something interpretive, and I need to do it now!

So, I guess the moral of the story is, no matter what you think the future will bring, it’s usually the same shit you choked on yesterday.

It’s not all bad here in bible belt babylon, though. This weekend was cool. I saw so much indie rock I started to forget where I was. For instance, Laura turned me on to the Stock Market Crash. Honestly, when I saw them, I wanted to hate them. They reminded me of the kids in high school that I, as a drama kid, rolled my eyes at. But they were good. Think Psychedelic Furs, the Fixx, and Arctic Monkeys. Yeah, these guys won’t be around here much longer. And on Sunday we saw John Vanderslice at the Opolis. Just awesome. John stuck around after the show to meet people and host the John Coltrane Dance Party. No one danced, and John asked me if I thought the 6/8 rhythm was what was keeping people off the dance floor. I think it was probably the 3.5 hours we’d all been standing in the sauna-like confines of the Opolis that dirtied our dancing shoes. Still, a fun time was had by all. I only wish I had thought ahead and brought some cash for CDs and whatnot. Next time.