I have decided, authoritatively, I might add, that fact (in both the singular and conceptual sense) does not exist.
This has something to do with confirmation through observation, and also with social and individual constructions of reality, which are abstract concepts formed from (subjective) sensory input.
So, yes. Reality is a lie.
Pizza, on the other hand, is very real (thank God).
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
What we ACTUALLY talk about
Well, I've ranted on this before (that's a good start, right?). Still, I find it a little creepy, especially this time of year when football camps in college and the pros are starting to gear up, that sports writers and "journalists" constantly dip into the cliche pool and pull out something as tacky as "now that the new coaching staff has gotten their message across, these guys are really ready to drink the kool-aid."
...ready to drink the kool-aid? seriously?
What's disturbing to me is that I doubt many people younger than me are really going to get the reference, so whatever. The reference, though, is something that you probably ought not to make. You know, mass suicide. Striking any bells? Drinking the cyanide laced kool-aid?
This is of course, really in the spirit of the violence and media class I'm teaching. I might to a unit on socially acceptable violent language. Until then, I'll amuse myself with alternate sports cliches:
"These guys are really ready to close the garage door and leave the motor running."
"These guys are really ready to take a bath with a hair-dryer."
"These guys are really ready to commit Seppuku."
"These guys are really ready to self-immolate."
It bothers me also that Wikipedia has an entire article on methods of suicide (I looked because I forgot how to spell Seppuku.)
...ready to drink the kool-aid? seriously?
What's disturbing to me is that I doubt many people younger than me are really going to get the reference, so whatever. The reference, though, is something that you probably ought not to make. You know, mass suicide. Striking any bells? Drinking the cyanide laced kool-aid?
This is of course, really in the spirit of the violence and media class I'm teaching. I might to a unit on socially acceptable violent language. Until then, I'll amuse myself with alternate sports cliches:
"These guys are really ready to close the garage door and leave the motor running."
"These guys are really ready to take a bath with a hair-dryer."
"These guys are really ready to commit Seppuku."
"These guys are really ready to self-immolate."
It bothers me also that Wikipedia has an entire article on methods of suicide (I looked because I forgot how to spell Seppuku.)
Thursday, July 17, 2008
I will find a way to teach a Susan Sontag text even if it kills me.
Okay, so that pretty much says it all. I'll probably be using Regarding the Pain of Others for my Media Violence and American Culture class.
Ha. This is my revenge against reason and practicality for preventing me from teaching Illness as Metaphor in my satire class.
I laugh, and check that revenge off the list.
Ha. This is my revenge against reason and practicality for preventing me from teaching Illness as Metaphor in my satire class.
I laugh, and check that revenge off the list.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Sad News
Well, this isn't much fun, and for that I'm sorry.
A couple weeks ago, my folks gave me a call to let me know that Max, the neurotic but lovable black lab, had passed away. She was struggling to breathe, and both of her hind legs had been pretty bad for the past couple years, so it was for the best. Still, this was a bummer, as I will always remember her running around the pool, eager for you to throw a twig or even a leaf for her to go fetch.
I'm also glad that I got to see her in March when I was at home, and we played a bit with the orange retriever dummy.
*Grrrrf*
Sorry for the down note. Back to regular, fun posts here shortly (first summer session is wrapping up, so know I have to knuckle down and shake the "i have all summer" mentality).
Monday, May 19, 2008
Full Frontal Nerdity
I am still breathing. I promise.
I've just moved. I'll send everyone that info via email this week. If you don't get that email, pester me and remind me of my shortcomings, and I will send it to you.
Then again, if you don't get that email and I don't know you, I'm probably not going to send you my address. No offence.
Anyway, I am sorting/categorizing my books for the first time since...well, ever. I started out with five categories, then I'll go to sub-categories (by date, subject, region, etc). The big five are: teaching/work reference, general/other reference, non-fiction, fiction/poetry/literature, and comics/graphic novels. Sounds easy, right? Meh. A few things came to mind:
1) Jesus tap-dancing Christ, I have a lot of books.
2) It is sooooo tempting to put Foucault in fiction...
3) Hmmm...surrealism...where should I...
4) Wow, did I take a Henry James class?
5) Well, the cynic in me says anything satirical should probably be non-fiction...
6) EL CID!! I'm organizing these books in a fortunate hour! Ha ha!
7) Okay, well, if medieval chronicles go in non-fiction, surrealism does too, damn it!
8) I own two Thomas Mann novels. You'd think I would have read at least one.
9) Jesus tap-dancing Christ, I have a lot of books...
Perhaps this will be continued later.
I've just moved. I'll send everyone that info via email this week. If you don't get that email, pester me and remind me of my shortcomings, and I will send it to you.
Then again, if you don't get that email and I don't know you, I'm probably not going to send you my address. No offence.
Anyway, I am sorting/categorizing my books for the first time since...well, ever. I started out with five categories, then I'll go to sub-categories (by date, subject, region, etc). The big five are: teaching/work reference, general/other reference, non-fiction, fiction/poetry/literature, and comics/graphic novels. Sounds easy, right? Meh. A few things came to mind:
1) Jesus tap-dancing Christ, I have a lot of books.
2) It is sooooo tempting to put Foucault in fiction...
3) Hmmm...surrealism...where should I...
4) Wow, did I take a Henry James class?
5) Well, the cynic in me says anything satirical should probably be non-fiction...
6) EL CID!! I'm organizing these books in a fortunate hour! Ha ha!
7) Okay, well, if medieval chronicles go in non-fiction, surrealism does too, damn it!
8) I own two Thomas Mann novels. You'd think I would have read at least one.
9) Jesus tap-dancing Christ, I have a lot of books...
Perhaps this will be continued later.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Harvester of Sorrow
Well, maybe "Harvester" indicates too much agency.
Anyway, avid readers may remember (or not) that I had promised to write a new scene from my play, featuring Greg as himself in his very own scene. This, I have done.
Sort of.
No, I did, it's just more of a "scene with Greg" than "Greg's scene" right now. It turns out that I had to do a lot of work in this scene, and the overarching purpose wasn't enough to carry the thing much beyond a page and a half. Granted, there's a fair amount of direction, and plenty of wiggle room for the actor, but I'm thinking 7-8 minutes tops.
The problem seems to be that I need for Greg to have more to say. Which, of course, means that I have to think more about what Greg has to say. Which is, of course, somewhat problematic since Greg's primary problem is his lack of really insightful things TO say.
Plus, thinking about Greg makes me squeamish. He's like an emotional black hole, from which no light or feeling or love can escape. And that's the thing. Everybody LOVES Greg (well, technically, they love what Greg used to be, but that's another post), so their emotions sink into the black hole. Yes, that is the 'answer' if you were writing a paper about this half-written, contrived play. He is pretty much the point around which Sorrow is Harvested (see? no agency).
Naturally, he is completely oblivious. That's his "thing." He doesn't really know that Winnicott is more important to him than Sharon, which is the obvious point of his scene and, frankly, not enough to make it interesting. I did add a fun touch, though. Sharon screams from offstage a few times, reminding Greg that she's in labor. That was fun.
I need to re-read Greg's scene with Vaughn and recapture the magic. Then deal with Vaughn killing Winnicott with a cardboard mailing tube. Oh...yeah, spoiler: Vaughn kills Winnicott with a cardboard mailing tube. Sorry.
Okay, enough self-aggrandizing. Hope everyone is well. After all, the semester is almost Ooooooover!
***UPDATE*** Damn, 4min, 17sec. Grrrr...
Anyway, avid readers may remember (or not) that I had promised to write a new scene from my play, featuring Greg as himself in his very own scene. This, I have done.
Sort of.
No, I did, it's just more of a "scene with Greg" than "Greg's scene" right now. It turns out that I had to do a lot of work in this scene, and the overarching purpose wasn't enough to carry the thing much beyond a page and a half. Granted, there's a fair amount of direction, and plenty of wiggle room for the actor, but I'm thinking 7-8 minutes tops.
The problem seems to be that I need for Greg to have more to say. Which, of course, means that I have to think more about what Greg has to say. Which is, of course, somewhat problematic since Greg's primary problem is his lack of really insightful things TO say.
Plus, thinking about Greg makes me squeamish. He's like an emotional black hole, from which no light or feeling or love can escape. And that's the thing. Everybody LOVES Greg (well, technically, they love what Greg used to be, but that's another post), so their emotions sink into the black hole. Yes, that is the 'answer' if you were writing a paper about this half-written, contrived play. He is pretty much the point around which Sorrow is Harvested (see? no agency).
Naturally, he is completely oblivious. That's his "thing." He doesn't really know that Winnicott is more important to him than Sharon, which is the obvious point of his scene and, frankly, not enough to make it interesting. I did add a fun touch, though. Sharon screams from offstage a few times, reminding Greg that she's in labor. That was fun.
I need to re-read Greg's scene with Vaughn and recapture the magic. Then deal with Vaughn killing Winnicott with a cardboard mailing tube. Oh...yeah, spoiler: Vaughn kills Winnicott with a cardboard mailing tube. Sorry.
Okay, enough self-aggrandizing. Hope everyone is well. After all, the semester is almost Ooooooover!
***UPDATE*** Damn, 4min, 17sec. Grrrr...
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Small victories
Okay, so maybe the writing ain't goin' so hot... I've had a lot on my plate. No excuse, I know, but there it is.
Still, I did actually get a couple things done recently. Of course, by recently I mean on my drive to work this morning. Still, they're pretty important:
1) So, I finally solved Greg's problem. Greg's problem was, of course, that I couldn't get him in a scene with anyone...no character is allowed to share a scene with the person that is most important to them. So, no Winnicott, no Sharon, no Steve. Vaughn had a scene with him already, so that was out. So...eureka! Greg gets a scene all by himself, pacing nervously and trying to call Winnicott's house while Sharon is in labor. Ta da! (Okay, I know the whole no scene with important person thing sounds contrived, but it actually has worked really well so far...)
2) I picked a title! I'm thinking "Absentia" Of course, there's a bunch of "In Absentia" titles all over IMDB, but there you go.
Okay, that's progress!
Still, I only have Sharon in one scene while Vaughn and Steve have 3 and Greg and Winnicott have 2...
In other news, I'm teaching this image tomorrow (er...today):
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Fear my vengeance
It is normally my habit not to post about work for a number of reasons, but I thought I would share this with you:
A while back, I had mentioned in class that writing "etc." was problematic, as it is often unclear and rarely states effectively what the writer means (and in academic writing this is awkward to say the least). I believe the cap I put on the brief discussion was probably, something along the lines of "Geez I HATE etc." or "Man, etc. drives me nuts! I mean, what are you TALKING about?" or something to that effect.
This morning, while grading some rough drafts and peer review comments, I stumbled across a note left from one student to another regarding an instance of "etc." in the paper:
"don't piss Rob off"
Yes. My methods are crude, perhaps, but effective.
A while back, I had mentioned in class that writing "etc." was problematic, as it is often unclear and rarely states effectively what the writer means (and in academic writing this is awkward to say the least). I believe the cap I put on the brief discussion was probably, something along the lines of "Geez I HATE etc." or "Man, etc. drives me nuts! I mean, what are you TALKING about?" or something to that effect.
This morning, while grading some rough drafts and peer review comments, I stumbled across a note left from one student to another regarding an instance of "etc." in the paper:
"don't piss Rob off"
Yes. My methods are crude, perhaps, but effective.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Ruminations
There's a lot bouncing around in my head at the moment.
"ruminations" is my new favorite word. The best part is that it means what I've always understood it to mean (introspective meditation) AND to "chew the cud"...both figuratively AND literally!
Chew the cud, of course, means both "to recall and reflect meditatively on things said, done, or suffered" (OED online) and in reference to "The food which a ruminating animal brings back into its mouth from its first stomach, and chews at leisure" (ibid).
So, ruminate, then, means both to reflect on concepts and ideas in a meditative fashion AND to regurgitate and chew on previously swallowed food. THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME.
In other news, I need to start writing again.
In all honesty, it's very difficult to get back on the horse. I rather desperately want to dust off my unfinished play, mostly because I feel that Mr. Winnicott, his cat Geoffrey, and poor Steve (along with Greg, Vaughn, and whatever Greg's wife's name was going to be) finally need to have their story told and, in some cases, their misery ended.
The primary hang-up here seems to be my reluctance to go over what I've already written. This is because, honestly, I'm scared. To be fair, that may be because all that stuff is currently in the file box which is buried under a bunch of junk in my closet storage area, but there's another possible explanation as well.
I always felt, foolishly, that at some point I would either have to actively decide that my creative and academic sides would need to stay separate or that they would fuse together in perfect harmony (like two ninjas taped together to form one giant ninja). It turns out, I think, that neither of these possibilities were necessary. Instead, I believe that my academic side and my creative side have reconciled in some way in order to form a deadly, effective partnership, slaying, with efficient impunity, any target my mind may designate (or create). Of course, the problem is that I can't pinpoint the moment that this symbiotic construct came into being, leaving me without the delightful opportunity for laboriously over-involved introspection.
Shucks.
Or, more likely, I've been putting off getting to work because I'm lazy and can't motivate my sorry ass to move the stack of books off the damn file box. Pick your poison, I guess.
More importantly, I'm drinking some of the delightful pecan pastry green tea that Sarah (and mom) picked out for me. It's rather sublime.
Okay.
Time to construct a mix CD and finish this damn play.
***Update***
The mix cd:
Glen Miller-"In the Mood"
Metallica- "Harvester of Sorrow"
Dire Straights- "Romeo and Juliet"
Weezer- "Getchoo"
Led Zeppelin- "No Quarter"
Godsmack- "I Fucking Hate You"
Fuel- "Fall On Me"
Taking Back Sunday- "I Am Fred Astaire"
Korn- "I'm Done"
Van Halen- "Poundcake"
ZZ Top- "Two Ways to Play"
Peter Gabriel- "Secret World"
Avenged Sevenfold- "Unholy Confessions"
Disturbed- "Decadence"
Albinoni- "Adagio In G Minor"
***UPDATE 2***
HA! SHARON!
"ruminations" is my new favorite word. The best part is that it means what I've always understood it to mean (introspective meditation) AND to "chew the cud"...both figuratively AND literally!
Chew the cud, of course, means both "to recall and reflect meditatively on things said, done, or suffered" (OED online) and in reference to "The food which a ruminating animal brings back into its mouth from its first stomach, and chews at leisure" (ibid).
So, ruminate, then, means both to reflect on concepts and ideas in a meditative fashion AND to regurgitate and chew on previously swallowed food. THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME.
In other news, I need to start writing again.
In all honesty, it's very difficult to get back on the horse. I rather desperately want to dust off my unfinished play, mostly because I feel that Mr. Winnicott, his cat Geoffrey, and poor Steve (along with Greg, Vaughn, and whatever Greg's wife's name was going to be) finally need to have their story told and, in some cases, their misery ended.
The primary hang-up here seems to be my reluctance to go over what I've already written. This is because, honestly, I'm scared. To be fair, that may be because all that stuff is currently in the file box which is buried under a bunch of junk in my closet storage area, but there's another possible explanation as well.
I always felt, foolishly, that at some point I would either have to actively decide that my creative and academic sides would need to stay separate or that they would fuse together in perfect harmony (like two ninjas taped together to form one giant ninja). It turns out, I think, that neither of these possibilities were necessary. Instead, I believe that my academic side and my creative side have reconciled in some way in order to form a deadly, effective partnership, slaying, with efficient impunity, any target my mind may designate (or create). Of course, the problem is that I can't pinpoint the moment that this symbiotic construct came into being, leaving me without the delightful opportunity for laboriously over-involved introspection.
Shucks.
Or, more likely, I've been putting off getting to work because I'm lazy and can't motivate my sorry ass to move the stack of books off the damn file box. Pick your poison, I guess.
More importantly, I'm drinking some of the delightful pecan pastry green tea that Sarah (and mom) picked out for me. It's rather sublime.
Okay.
Time to construct a mix CD and finish this damn play.
***Update***
The mix cd:
Glen Miller-"In the Mood"
Metallica- "Harvester of Sorrow"
Dire Straights- "Romeo and Juliet"
Weezer- "Getchoo"
Led Zeppelin- "No Quarter"
Godsmack- "I Fucking Hate You"
Fuel- "Fall On Me"
Taking Back Sunday- "I Am Fred Astaire"
Korn- "I'm Done"
Van Halen- "Poundcake"
ZZ Top- "Two Ways to Play"
Peter Gabriel- "Secret World"
Avenged Sevenfold- "Unholy Confessions"
Disturbed- "Decadence"
Albinoni- "Adagio In G Minor"
***UPDATE 2***
HA! SHARON!
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