March 2006 Archives

The Dresden Dolls are playing at the Bluebird on April 4th! I am happy because I checked thier website like a week ago, and there was no Denver show, but now there is! I am, as my people say, "stoked".

Today I went through and made some minor changes to the categories. It should still be easy to find everything.

I've taken all of the media related stuff, books, movies, television, and shoved it into it's own categoriy and set of sub-categories. More to the point, I have taken all of the personal life related stuff and shoveled it into a brand new category "Personal Blahgging", with a could of categories under than. This was brought on by a recent spat of posts that were not that personal, and the personal stuff was clogging up the General category. So now peronal life stuff has it's own category, and general is just for stuff that doesn't fit any existing category.

I shoulda been a librarian.

Gilles Trehin, an autistic 28 year old from south-east France, has documented an amazing city, Urville, that exists only in his mind. He has drawn hundreds of pictures of the city, mapped it in detail, and even written social and cultural histories.

Now, I am fascinated by 50's futurism (which some of his work recalls), and I am also fascinated by those that are differently-abled cognitively (You can't call someone that could do this disabled, he's just not like you and me; he might even be, in many ways, better than us) so I am incredibly happy to have found out about Gilles and Urville. I plan on ordering at least one of his prints as soon as I can figure out how to.

Naturally, I also can't stop thinking about St. Elsewhere...

I went to go see the Bodyworks 2 exhibit up in Denver on Saturday, and all I can say is that it's amazing.

It works on (at least) two levels - there is the scientific "ah, so that's what we look like inside" aspect of it, but what I wasn't expecting was the artistry involved. The bodies, which has have been preserved through a process called "plastination" were, frankly, beautiful. I've always thought that the human body was beautiful, inside and out, but when you actually see it like this, with all of the parts and their relationships laid bare, it's an incredible experience. It reminded me, yet again, of how incredible it is that it all works together, and makes me even more awed that this is the result of billions of years of slow change and growth.

If you have a chance, it's worth seeing if you have the opportunity. I'm planning to see it again if I can.

Later that day I went with some friends to the Bluebird to see Matson Jones open for Enon. Matson Jones was amazing - two cellos, a bass, and a drummer. When you hear that, you assume they are going to be sort of fey and clever, like Rasputina, but no - they rocked. I am pretty sure that I have never seen a bass player shred a bowstring to pieces during a performance before.

Enon (who is, as it turns out is the band I thought it was - founded by the guy from the Brainiacs) was disappointing though - from the moment they stated their set and I recognized that the song was basically the riff from "Another One Bites The Dust" I couldn't get over the thought that it all sounded a little derivitive - familiar hooks, a male vocal that spent time at the "Hot Hot Heat" school of voice and a cute, but not magnetic female japanese lead singer.

All of it filtered through a Yo La Tengo hipster sieve...

We left halfway through their set.

Great article over at Wonderland documenting some of the ranting portions of the GDC sessions (thanks, boingboing). I think my favorite line is the one about statues not being better because they move. If you have ever been to Disneyland, as alluded to in the title, you can plainly see this is not true. If, on the other hand, you have ever gone to Chuck E. Cheese it is, equally, plainly true.

There are some good points made about pointless freedom. I've always thought that the true 3-D version of Myst that was done a few years ago was the dumbest thing I ever heard of. The locations in Myst were all carefully designed for set, static views in which everything you would ever need to look at was in frame. Adding true, realtime 3-D with a user controlled point of view simply made it possible to look at a lot of locations that had no content. Stupid. Game developers have to carefully control where the user can go, because there is nothing more boring than having a game with "infinite freedom to go where you want" and nothing going on to hold the player's interest except in a few fleshed out locations.

With face to face gaming this could be somewhat compensated for by having a game master who was able to improvise when the players went off and did something unplanned. With computer game design you have to make it harder to go off the rails, or have a system in place the generate interest and complexity in the areas that have not been fully fleshed out by the designers. Unfortunately, this usually leads to either very tight control of the player, or worse, tossing extra combat opportunities into the empty areas. In all honesty, I have never been as bored playing a game as I was when I tried GTA: Vice City...lot's of freedom to go where you want, and do what you want, but none of it really had any impact on anything, and it was repetitive as hell. If there was an overall faction or reputation system on the other hand, then even random encounters throughout the game could have had an impact on the larger story arcs.

So, It seems that I now have a housemate. Ashley moved in this weekend. We got all of her big stuff moved in Saturday night, but she is still moving small stuff over from her mom's and settling in.

It will be nice to have someone else around the house, even though it's unlikely I will actually see her that much. She spends most of her time either working or out with friends, so I am guessng that I will see her at best a couple of hours a week. This whole thing will probably work out pretty well. Her mom was on her about not keeping her stuff neat, which isn't a big deal for me - as long as she keeps her stuff in the shared areas of the house neat I don't care what her room looks like, I'm not showing the house or anything like that. We also get along very well, so I'm hoping the whole thing will be pretty friction free, and it wil give her the opportunity to have a transition between straght "living at home" and the cruel, cold world of "living on your own".

It also might provide more justifcations for cooking!

When it was broken:

Now, when I change the bandages:

Icky, isn't it?

Yes, the first one is photoshopped - I can't get over the fact that I lost the actual picture.

Today as I was getting ready for work, I managed to stubb my little toe on the door frame of my bedroom.

I thought to myself, "that hurts a little more than usual". Looking down, what do I see, but my pinky toe on my left foot at a right angle to my foot. Realizing that this is not normal I rushed myself to the hospital, to find out that it's broken (duh!). Looks like I will have to get a pin in it, which I am sure is a lot less fun than it sounds.

That, however, is not the reason for the title of this post. I took an awesome picture of the toe/foot with my phone, but it looks like I forgot to confirm saving it, so I don't have it. It was really icky looking.

God damn it!

(Note that the "More Personal Than Usual" category has essentially been decommissioned. This blog has turned into another "Oh! Look what is going on in my fascinating life" site. I promise I will fix that someday).

This weekend was a great deal of fun, even though, in essence, I did nothing. I got to spend a lot of time with Kieran - playing video games (I got to the point where his Halo victory ratio was only 3-1!), watching movies (Harry Potter 4 is not my favorite Harry Potter movie so far) and just hanging out. I really, really want to spend as much time as possible with him before he goes to live with his dad, and that seems to be working out so far.

I also got to hang out for a while with someone new this weekend, which was hawesome. Very smart, funny, well-read, artsy, all the things I like in people. Must make more effort to hang out with new people - they have new perspectives and can be endlessly fascinating. I tend to forget that sometimes because I am so busy with what is already in front of me. I am surrounded so often by souless, colorless people that I forget that there are occasional shiny sparkling people out there that I do not already know. Everyone that I do already know is, it goes without saying, shiny and sparkling.

Also, Rick - as I was leaving Denver I realized that I don't have your phone number - I would have sworn I had it in my cellphone. Sorry to have bailed without notice. Contact me.

But once a week is a bad trend...

This morning I wake up at about 6:45. I am, of course, unable to move - lying on my back, arms at my sides. There is something in the room - not the dogs, who are lying in the bed, unaware of the menacing presence.

I realize that I am fully dressed, which is odd, because I am sure that I undressed before coming into bed. Despite this, I am fully dressed, laying in bed, unable to move and filled with dread. I realize that my wallet is in my right front pocket, and that it has quite a bit of cash in it, cash that I need. I can tell that whatever it is that is in the room is trying to reach into the pocket and get the wallet.

Understand - I'm not dreaming - I'm awake, I can see what is going on in the room, but at the same time, I KNOW there is something reaching into my pocket.

I struggle and strain to get up, to yell, to do anything. Finally, just as I think I can't try any harder, I am bolt upright in bed, undressed, and slightly terrified - my heart is racing. After a second I see my pants on the floor. Checking them the wallet, and all monies within it (which is, in reality not very much at all) are just fine.

I wonder how long/often this is going to happen? Will I eventually start to hallucinate alien abductions, or witches sitting on my chest, which are the classic sleep paralysis hallucinations?

With my luck, there is no way I am getting a succubus...

What's interesting to me is that, even though I know exactly what is going on, I still can't control the fear and associated responses. I mean, rationally I know exactly what is happening, even while it's happening, but I still get the physical and emotional fear response. I am also a little concerned that it's happened twice in two weeks, since the last time I can remember it happening is back in 1988. Have to do some research on sleep paralysis and Lunesta use...

So, two friends of mine have just given birth. Yes, one did more work than the other, but I feel generous today. There is a brand new baby girl in the world, and I think that is wonderful. I really think they will be loving parents that will let their child grow up to be happy, well rounded, and messed up in the right ways.

At the same time, it does stir up a lot of stuff - seeing my sister's beautiful little boy a few weeks ago, years ago, telling Sharon that we should not get her tubes reversed and have a baby (I'm just going to say "good decision" because if we didn't stay together because of two children I thought of as ours, one more would not make a difference).

At the same time it feels like I am missing something. I am old enough, and I have the money (once this stupid shit is settled) for a family. I feel like I am too old though - have a baby today and I'm sixty when it leaves high school; I'm 65 by the time that it decides to go on ice for 4500 years to see if anything more interesting comes along. At the same time, what does a biological kid get me other than assured visitation? I am not too concerned about carrying on my genetic heritage - yes, the world can never have enough tall, thin, smart and good looking people, but, really, there are plenty of people in the world already. I think it's more that my favorite time for kids is between 1 and 3, before they become actual human beings - they think different, and not in an Apple way. They just see the world from a whole new perspective. I haven't had the opportunity to go through all of that myself; I always get involved after that.

I can see myself in all my kids - James, Jessica, Sara and Kieran all got something from me, and I think it was something good. That means a lot. I love the fact the people will say, when seeing James or Kieran "My, he really takes after you" and I can nod in agreement - not because I think they do physically, be because I think/hope that they have recieved something from me about how you should treat people. One of my proudest moments was when James, at Kieran's current age, went to a dance and danced with a girl he didn't like (as in like like), but who asked him. Later he told me "Come on, she was brave to ask me to dance. I know what that's like. I had to dance with her - it's not like we were getting married.". Wise words from a 13 year old. I also love that Kieran is able to talk about what's going on with him, and how he's feeling. Not real well, but better than I could at his age.

Of course, I have also never had closer relationships than I have with my stepkids - they are the only "I will always love you no matter what" relationships. My ex-spouses may do things that hurt too much to live with, but my step kids can't. I'm not going t break the implicit "I'll be there" promise that I made when I married thier mom. It's not fair, or righ to do so. Jessica and James were what...3 and 6? Ash and Kieran were...11 and 5? It's a one sided agreement and one that I have to uphold if they are going to trust anyone in the future.

I have to admit that there is a curiousity about the difference there might be with son/daughter and Mother of your son/daughter.I can only assume from the divorce rates that it's both closer and more fragile that I can imagine. But you know, all this breeding lately kind of makes me want breed as well; no matter how many intellectual arguments there are against it. I won't, of course, without good reason. I really think that I can preserve my heritage through meme transmission as well as I could through long protein chain exchanges. If I get to write their software, does it really matter what hardware it runs on? They all know about Monty Python, and they all have good taste in music and film.

So, upon further examination of the pop-culture trivia nightmare that is my inner world, I have decided that, without a doubt, my favorite TV show is Scrubs. I love the story lines, I love the light and black humour, and I love the characters. I identify with all of them, even though they are either jewish, female, black, or assholes. (Kristin, I understand that this confuses you. Trust me, I can love Scrubs, the O.C., Boston Legal, and 8 other shows at the same time - we have an understanding - like Bill and Hill).

I was reminded of this tonight when they replayed one of the older episodes with the line I used for the title of this post. I am now, and have always been a gigantic fan of the name Molly.

In fact, I think I am going to pledge that from this day forth, there will be no un-"M"-named loves in my life.

Hello Melvin! (or Michelle, or, hey, I'll take a Mike at this point. Mikah, if you haven't married yet - I'm available.)

This weekend I actually had the opportunity to cook again, and it made me really, really miss cooking even more. I just can't get up the energy to do it just for myself though. I suppose that means I just need to have people over more often.

Evening went pretty well, and everyone seemed to have a pretty good time. Mirrormask, as predicted, was an incoherent mess that looked very, very pretty onscreen.

I love it when I have a bout of sleep paralysis - that wierd state where you are partially awake, immobile and have dream-like hallucinations.

This morning, at what I believe was 5:40 or so I woke up, only to find that I couldn't move. I heard a toilet flush in the house, then the sounds of steps moving along the hall outside. Being the only person in the house, this seemed wierd, and kind of scary.

While I couldn't move, I could tell that someone had entered the room, and walked across to the bed. Still unable to move, I felt a tingling sensation as someone lay down next to me on the bed. Since I was close to the edge there wasn't any room and the prescence slipped down from the bed and moved under it.

I'm lying there in bed, unable to move, knowing that there is someone/thing under the bed, trying to force my body to move, to get up, to speak - to do anything. I feel like I am just on the verge of being able to move when suddenly hands reach up over the bottom edge of the bed, grabbing at the blankets and my feet. Suddenly I can move, and I am bolt upright in bed. The door is closed, there are no hands and my heart is racing. After a moment to settle down, even though I know it's dumb, I peek under the bed. Nothing. Whew.

I love it when stuff like this happens. Our brains are marvelous and wierd, wierd things.