I miss my old kitchen in the second story of my old victorian house overlooking the neighborhood. Making edible Christmas gifts here seemed so much more festive with everyone else's decorations adding to my own.
I could write so much more on the subject but I am bustinf ourt a few enries before work and have sudden;y run out of time. Well... not suddenly. More like, predictably, since this thing decided to do updates this morning when I didn't have time forthem to be done. Funny how this computer seems to know when to screw me up the best.
I think I shall name it HAL.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Craft Geek
composed on paper Thanksgiving night, transcribed the following morning
.
So I finally bought an Ott-Lite. And like a true geek, I read all the packaging. The guy who built this great light spent 40 years researching light and photobiology... which is to say, how biologic forms process wavelengths as in photosynthesis.
Turns out the guy filmed Secrets of Life for Disney. You know the one where you get to watch time lapsed film of plants growing, fungi shooting spores and insects hatching. Turns out specific wavelengths trigger specific responses within organism. And John Ott figured it out.
This light is amazing. I've been reading and writing for better than two hours and my eyes don't hurt. I'm even writing in my own shadow and not having a problem. It isn't hot. And, despite the maudlin memories of a beloved kitchen bothering me right now, I actually feel pretty good. I may have my Seasonal Affective Disorder solution.
Yea!!
.
So I finally bought an Ott-Lite. And like a true geek, I read all the packaging. The guy who built this great light spent 40 years researching light and photobiology... which is to say, how biologic forms process wavelengths as in photosynthesis.
Turns out the guy filmed Secrets of Life for Disney. You know the one where you get to watch time lapsed film of plants growing, fungi shooting spores and insects hatching. Turns out specific wavelengths trigger specific responses within organism. And John Ott figured it out.
This light is amazing. I've been reading and writing for better than two hours and my eyes don't hurt. I'm even writing in my own shadow and not having a problem. It isn't hot. And, despite the maudlin memories of a beloved kitchen bothering me right now, I actually feel pretty good. I may have my Seasonal Affective Disorder solution.
Yea!!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
So I worked four hours on the holiday
I came in at 10, punched out at 2:15 and have been blissfully typing away and amusing my coworkers with the world of geek fan-dom. While pitching a fit over the issues in the previous post, I came across this guy named Rappengleuck who asserts that the Lasceaux cave paintings are a star map. Which would indeed answer the question... why would a cave man make animal pictures? But it leads me to question why would prehistoric man need to know about the stars and how can the stories of the stars remain almost unchanged over eons? Cause let's face it, we're talking eons here.
The constellation in question is Taurus... which over the course of several hundreds of thousands, millions, of years is still the image of a bull. The reason for the bull to be there has changed as the pantheons are replaced with the overlords' favored tales... but Taurus is still Taurus. Only in South American do the names and shapes change. So what gives? What is it about the east and west hemispheres that manages to be so divisive?
Still... I find the greater mind blowing questions to surround the concept that cave men drew the stars on the walls in forms they were familiar with and for no apparent reason. I mean, cavemen were mostly nomadic hunters, charting the season's by the stars wouldn't have been necessary for another few eons. They weren't seamen who needed to navigate the globe using the stars. The Minoans would perfect the sextant and then lose the technology during a cataclysm even more eons later than the advent of farming. So why? Did they have gods who came from the stars upset their social equilibrium? What were they trying to figure out?
I will have to research Rappengleuck more thoroughly.
The constellation in question is Taurus... which over the course of several hundreds of thousands, millions, of years is still the image of a bull. The reason for the bull to be there has changed as the pantheons are replaced with the overlords' favored tales... but Taurus is still Taurus. Only in South American do the names and shapes change. So what gives? What is it about the east and west hemispheres that manages to be so divisive?
Still... I find the greater mind blowing questions to surround the concept that cave men drew the stars on the walls in forms they were familiar with and for no apparent reason. I mean, cavemen were mostly nomadic hunters, charting the season's by the stars wouldn't have been necessary for another few eons. They weren't seamen who needed to navigate the globe using the stars. The Minoans would perfect the sextant and then lose the technology during a cataclysm even more eons later than the advent of farming. So why? Did they have gods who came from the stars upset their social equilibrium? What were they trying to figure out?
I will have to research Rappengleuck more thoroughly.
I hate to repeat myself but...
Okay, I've heard it again and i have to say even if no one else sees this entry that sci-fi fans without any "sci" knowledge lead pointless and futile lives. Some one decided to bash Star Trek The Next Generation because there is an episode that takes place on a planet named for its binary star Aldebaran. Sound familiar? It sounds very much like Leia's home world. BUT IT'S NOT! Alderaan was Leia's home world in Star Wars. Oooh... let's call out the National Guard and read Roddenberry the riot act. NOT!
Aldebaran is one of the brightest stars in the Milky Way galaxy... a galaxy that, even with Warp capability, is going to take some time to explore. Both Roddenberry and Lucas understand that in order to make a space story meaningful to the audience they have to be able to somehow relate to the locations, even locations that no human has gone before. And thus... some of the more recognisable planet and star names are borrowed for use in story telling. Apparently people willing to argue semantics when it comes to their beloved branch of fandom aren't very willing to put any thought into their criticisms. Alderaan is a real star name. But, it is not used in offical star charts because someone mistranslated the arabic name and created a constellation to suit the interpretation. The true use of the word Alderaan is meant to denote measurement and fits two constellations that each have two cubit measures in significant areas of the formation: Castor and Pollux & Procyon and Gomeisa.
Aldebaran is the eye of the Taurus bull, very close to the constellation of Orion. It is a red dwarf with a 0.87 magnitude. In other words it is the 13th brightest object in the night sky. And has been around long enough to be featured in the Lasceaux cave paintings if one follows Rappengleucks logic. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/871930.stm It is a star that is in its old age. It is easy to find right between Orion and the Pleiades. And according to Bones, it the home of a clam like creature known as the Aldebaran Shell Mouth, as in "He's as tight lipped as an Aldebaran Shell mouth." [amok time, Bones ruffles over Spock's reticence to talk about the pon farr symptoms he is experiencing.]
Also featured in the cave painting is the star at the tail of Cygnus, Deneb. In the Trouble with Tribbles the Klingons compare Captain Kirk to a Denebian slime devil, a forgivable offense since it is mostly likely true. This is done just prior to calling the Enterprise a garbage scow to Mr. Scott's face... not a forgivable offense. Deneb is also easily recognisable as the 19th brightest object in the sky with a 1.25 magnitude making it 60,000x>Sol, our sun.
Rigel, another popular space place name in Trek, I, II, III, IV is the right foot of Orion. Also in Orion is a star known as Betelgeuse, pronounced "Beetle Juice".
Granted, sci-fi is no way to get an education on astronomy, but how can you be a sci-fi geek and not know anything concerning the geek parts?
Aldebaran is one of the brightest stars in the Milky Way galaxy... a galaxy that, even with Warp capability, is going to take some time to explore. Both Roddenberry and Lucas understand that in order to make a space story meaningful to the audience they have to be able to somehow relate to the locations, even locations that no human has gone before. And thus... some of the more recognisable planet and star names are borrowed for use in story telling. Apparently people willing to argue semantics when it comes to their beloved branch of fandom aren't very willing to put any thought into their criticisms. Alderaan is a real star name. But, it is not used in offical star charts because someone mistranslated the arabic name and created a constellation to suit the interpretation. The true use of the word Alderaan is meant to denote measurement and fits two constellations that each have two cubit measures in significant areas of the formation: Castor and Pollux & Procyon and Gomeisa.
Aldebaran is the eye of the Taurus bull, very close to the constellation of Orion. It is a red dwarf with a 0.87 magnitude. In other words it is the 13th brightest object in the night sky. And has been around long enough to be featured in the Lasceaux cave paintings if one follows Rappengleucks logic. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/871930.stm It is a star that is in its old age. It is easy to find right between Orion and the Pleiades. And according to Bones, it the home of a clam like creature known as the Aldebaran Shell Mouth, as in "He's as tight lipped as an Aldebaran Shell mouth." [amok time, Bones ruffles over Spock's reticence to talk about the pon farr symptoms he is experiencing.]
Also featured in the cave painting is the star at the tail of Cygnus, Deneb. In the Trouble with Tribbles the Klingons compare Captain Kirk to a Denebian slime devil, a forgivable offense since it is mostly likely true. This is done just prior to calling the Enterprise a garbage scow to Mr. Scott's face... not a forgivable offense. Deneb is also easily recognisable as the 19th brightest object in the sky with a 1.25 magnitude making it 60,000x>Sol, our sun.
Rigel, another popular space place name in Trek, I, II, III, IV is the right foot of Orion. Also in Orion is a star known as Betelgeuse, pronounced "Beetle Juice".
Granted, sci-fi is no way to get an education on astronomy, but how can you be a sci-fi geek and not know anything concerning the geek parts?
Sunday, November 23, 2008
geeky day
Well better than rain or snow... Today was a geektastic day
youtube all the way
First, from the Star Trek Monty Python mash up to a slue of Star Trek videos made by fans and set to their choice of music. Entertaining and in some cases disturbing.
Then I finally got to see Wil perform some of his short stories. The William f***ing Shatner bit was great in person. Wil threw in a bunch of extra stuff by interrupting himself. And BTW... Shatner is an ass. I think Koloth's second put it best "Arrogant, swaggering tin-plated dictator with delusions of G'dhood." And for my money, though I love quoting Jabberwocky, I am more glad to have memorized the Klingon's lines than Carroll's. And if anyone has a vorpal blade and would like to go snicker snack on Shatner's back, I for one will turn a blind eye. Again... what an ass. And yes, had it been said to anyone other than Wil, I would still say he is an ass.
Then, I saw Nimoy and DeLancie perform a piece that I had heard on audio book... Spock v. Q, Spock wins. Who knew a Vulcan was the only thing in the Universe that could annoy the Q?
So that lead to an afternoon of drooling hysteria; The EMH performs "la donna il mobile" in his imagination and manages to ryhme with Hypospray, Data on Night Court, James Frain on Invasion; Tudors mash up in which we try to pretend that Moore and Cromwell aren't poser ass wipes; and then the highlight of the evening, even though Fancast was not cooperating with a smooth transmission.... Doctor Horrible's singalong Blog.
Hilarious.
Joss Whedon and family (Buffy/Angel fame) wrote and produced the little more than hour long program. Doogie Houser(because he'll always be Doogie to me) is a conflicted evil villain wannabe until his love interest is killed by a bumbling Barney Fife with pecks Superman dreams of having. This is terribly, horribly, funny with a dash of poignancy and trifling sentiment. Think live action Superfriends without Ted Knight narrating. The blog seems incidental until a few minutes after the screen goes black. And you realize [SPOILER ALERT!!!]
that it's just Doogie in his basement wondering what would happen if he used his super genius powers for evil.
Of course... that wasn't what Whedon was going for. But when the last shot of Dr. Horrible is him in his basement in front of the computer (Doogie's sign-off) dressed in regular clothes... what else am I going to think?
youtube all the way
First, from the Star Trek Monty Python mash up to a slue of Star Trek videos made by fans and set to their choice of music. Entertaining and in some cases disturbing.
Then I finally got to see Wil perform some of his short stories. The William f***ing Shatner bit was great in person. Wil threw in a bunch of extra stuff by interrupting himself. And BTW... Shatner is an ass. I think Koloth's second put it best "Arrogant, swaggering tin-plated dictator with delusions of G'dhood." And for my money, though I love quoting Jabberwocky, I am more glad to have memorized the Klingon's lines than Carroll's. And if anyone has a vorpal blade and would like to go snicker snack on Shatner's back, I for one will turn a blind eye. Again... what an ass. And yes, had it been said to anyone other than Wil, I would still say he is an ass.
Then, I saw Nimoy and DeLancie perform a piece that I had heard on audio book... Spock v. Q, Spock wins. Who knew a Vulcan was the only thing in the Universe that could annoy the Q?
So that lead to an afternoon of drooling hysteria; The EMH performs "la donna il mobile" in his imagination and manages to ryhme with Hypospray, Data on Night Court, James Frain on Invasion; Tudors mash up in which we try to pretend that Moore and Cromwell aren't poser ass wipes; and then the highlight of the evening, even though Fancast was not cooperating with a smooth transmission.... Doctor Horrible's singalong Blog.
Hilarious.
Joss Whedon and family (Buffy/Angel fame) wrote and produced the little more than hour long program. Doogie Houser(because he'll always be Doogie to me) is a conflicted evil villain wannabe until his love interest is killed by a bumbling Barney Fife with pecks Superman dreams of having. This is terribly, horribly, funny with a dash of poignancy and trifling sentiment. Think live action Superfriends without Ted Knight narrating. The blog seems incidental until a few minutes after the screen goes black. And you realize [SPOILER ALERT!!!]
that it's just Doogie in his basement wondering what would happen if he used his super genius powers for evil.
Of course... that wasn't what Whedon was going for. But when the last shot of Dr. Horrible is him in his basement in front of the computer (Doogie's sign-off) dressed in regular clothes... what else am I going to think?
geek factor 4
Not quite top speed for a dilithium powered engine, but, it gets me where I need to go in the land of geekdom.
I find, after stopping by Wil's, that I am part of a large community. I wish there were a way to geographically corral us into an independent city state where we can do commerce and live at peace in the warm glow of our big ass tv's with the cool special effects. Alas, it is not to be.
I live in a community where different is feared and misunderstood and, in typical sci-fi fashion, attacked. Of course, no one would suspect that tolerant Traverse City, host of the second largest gay community in Michigan, haven to the arts and the socio-political insurgent Michael Moore, could be fearful and degrading to those who are statistically different. There is a significant New Age population that is not forced under ground but rather celebrated with holistic and alternative health clinics. Tolerant TC deals with the gay community by allowing them a bar and a blind eye and evangelising them into some spiritual practice... mostly among the Unitarians. But for us, the geeks and nerds, who haunt coffee shops and the last arcade, there is little tolerance.
Our families still try to make us into their bland and staid Stepford sibs or spouses. I don't live among people who get Monty Python, campy Trek, semi-serious Trek, or understand that there is truly a life and human lesson to be learned from Babylon 5. The city in which I live would never attempt to use a Venn diagram for anything but genetic forecasting. Most of the people I encounter on a regular basis live the Once and Forever Rule... what once was true of you is always true until we tell you it is not. I hated living with those limitations while attaining adulthood. I hate it even more now. I am constantly told that I can not allow others to dictate the terms of my existence, because I was created by G'd and he is the one who determined what I would desire to be in this life. No one else is qualified to tell me how to live that life. Oh... except for the people who keep telling me not to let any one tell me what to do with my life. And people wonder why I am fucked up? I wonder why I am fucked up?
Roddenberry may have coined the phrase Prime Directive and, within the directive, rewrote the preamble to the declaration of independence as more closely aligned with Locke's naturalism than Jefferson felt secure with, as a safe haven to teach us about ourselves. Science fiction is a self-directed course in human nature and ethics, about what we can and cannot accept as individuals and societies. It makes us better without first demanding confession, baptism and conformity to a model no one could live up to in reality. And that makes him a dangerous evil dead guy... almost as dangerous as John Locke. But because his philosophy is attached to a popular tv series (5 to be precise) with requisite marketing machine, his is the more insidious philosophy. And the easiest to deride by those who do not participate in or see value of the things that he teaches. Of course I could point out that Forbes recommends every CEO possess and read a book about management that uses Captain Picard's command style as THE example of what to do in your Fortune 500 company... that's how little influence and meaning the Star Trek franchise has in the world.
In my city, geeks are still seeking their inheritance. We don't know each other. Sure, I got a couple of kudos at the class reunion. But on a daily basis there is no unity to live in. I am part of a collective but I am stranded on a ship of fools. If I looked like 7of9 then I might not mind it so much. But I look like me: thick in the middle and bloody pimples because the rosacae decided it didn't like the medication anymore. I read Wil's blog and I've watched his presentations posted to you tube and I know I am not alone. Somewhere out there, beneath the pale blue stars, there is a community of people, of my kind. And I miss them. I don't know who half of those people are since we are related through Wil's blog, mostly.
But I miss them. They are people who would link arms and skip down the sidewalk while singing "We're off to see the Wizard" just because the impetus struck. Note to self... correlation between Imp and impetus. These are people who, upon hearing their favorite 80's pop tune in the middle of crowded aisle 5 on a Saturday morning will abandon their shopping carts to do a little dance with abandon. These people could, while dressed in suit and tie in a board meeting, threaten a belligerent co worker with a butt kicking from here to the Romulan Neutral Zone and back with the dignity of our favorite Vulcan and not feel stupid doing it. The belligerent one would know that the campy reference veils a threat thicker than the thin ice he/she skates upon. They are people who would not feel the slightest embarrassment over a night of gaming after a crappy work week. But here the only gaming that gets respect is at the casino. My how times have changed.
I'm not really feeling sorry for myself. I'm just missing people I have yet to meet. I feel like I always do when a great party ends. I'm tired in a refreshing way; my guts hurt from laughing. And I know we all have jobs to go to and can't stay at the party forever (see ST:TNG episode, the Royale, to understand a party that never ends is a jail sentence) but it would be nice to have that energy wave carry me further than the parking lot.
I find, after stopping by Wil's, that I am part of a large community. I wish there were a way to geographically corral us into an independent city state where we can do commerce and live at peace in the warm glow of our big ass tv's with the cool special effects. Alas, it is not to be.
I live in a community where different is feared and misunderstood and, in typical sci-fi fashion, attacked. Of course, no one would suspect that tolerant Traverse City, host of the second largest gay community in Michigan, haven to the arts and the socio-political insurgent Michael Moore, could be fearful and degrading to those who are statistically different. There is a significant New Age population that is not forced under ground but rather celebrated with holistic and alternative health clinics. Tolerant TC deals with the gay community by allowing them a bar and a blind eye and evangelising them into some spiritual practice... mostly among the Unitarians. But for us, the geeks and nerds, who haunt coffee shops and the last arcade, there is little tolerance.
Our families still try to make us into their bland and staid Stepford sibs or spouses. I don't live among people who get Monty Python, campy Trek, semi-serious Trek, or understand that there is truly a life and human lesson to be learned from Babylon 5. The city in which I live would never attempt to use a Venn diagram for anything but genetic forecasting. Most of the people I encounter on a regular basis live the Once and Forever Rule... what once was true of you is always true until we tell you it is not. I hated living with those limitations while attaining adulthood. I hate it even more now. I am constantly told that I can not allow others to dictate the terms of my existence, because I was created by G'd and he is the one who determined what I would desire to be in this life. No one else is qualified to tell me how to live that life. Oh... except for the people who keep telling me not to let any one tell me what to do with my life. And people wonder why I am fucked up? I wonder why I am fucked up?
Roddenberry may have coined the phrase Prime Directive and, within the directive, rewrote the preamble to the declaration of independence as more closely aligned with Locke's naturalism than Jefferson felt secure with, as a safe haven to teach us about ourselves. Science fiction is a self-directed course in human nature and ethics, about what we can and cannot accept as individuals and societies. It makes us better without first demanding confession, baptism and conformity to a model no one could live up to in reality. And that makes him a dangerous evil dead guy... almost as dangerous as John Locke. But because his philosophy is attached to a popular tv series (5 to be precise) with requisite marketing machine, his is the more insidious philosophy. And the easiest to deride by those who do not participate in or see value of the things that he teaches. Of course I could point out that Forbes recommends every CEO possess and read a book about management that uses Captain Picard's command style as THE example of what to do in your Fortune 500 company... that's how little influence and meaning the Star Trek franchise has in the world.
In my city, geeks are still seeking their inheritance. We don't know each other. Sure, I got a couple of kudos at the class reunion. But on a daily basis there is no unity to live in. I am part of a collective but I am stranded on a ship of fools. If I looked like 7of9 then I might not mind it so much. But I look like me: thick in the middle and bloody pimples because the rosacae decided it didn't like the medication anymore. I read Wil's blog and I've watched his presentations posted to you tube and I know I am not alone. Somewhere out there, beneath the pale blue stars, there is a community of people, of my kind. And I miss them. I don't know who half of those people are since we are related through Wil's blog, mostly.
But I miss them. They are people who would link arms and skip down the sidewalk while singing "We're off to see the Wizard" just because the impetus struck. Note to self... correlation between Imp and impetus. These are people who, upon hearing their favorite 80's pop tune in the middle of crowded aisle 5 on a Saturday morning will abandon their shopping carts to do a little dance with abandon. These people could, while dressed in suit and tie in a board meeting, threaten a belligerent co worker with a butt kicking from here to the Romulan Neutral Zone and back with the dignity of our favorite Vulcan and not feel stupid doing it. The belligerent one would know that the campy reference veils a threat thicker than the thin ice he/she skates upon. They are people who would not feel the slightest embarrassment over a night of gaming after a crappy work week. But here the only gaming that gets respect is at the casino. My how times have changed.
I'm not really feeling sorry for myself. I'm just missing people I have yet to meet. I feel like I always do when a great party ends. I'm tired in a refreshing way; my guts hurt from laughing. And I know we all have jobs to go to and can't stay at the party forever (see ST:TNG episode, the Royale, to understand a party that never ends is a jail sentence) but it would be nice to have that energy wave carry me further than the parking lot.
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