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Penguicon 2012 Report - Sunday & Monday

jer_ — Wed, 16 May 2012 16:22:55 EDT

A continuation of Saturday's report…again, probably forgot people and events, blah blah blah…you know the routine. Before we begin, though, some singing to kick things off (the first 10 seconds…the remaining 40 seconds is just crowd noise, which may or may not be better than the singing. Thanks to Gibson Nichols for all of the video in this post.)

Sunday was the most relaxing breakdown we've had since I've been involved. Having storage space on-site until Monday allowed us to clear the function space to staging areas then regroup before the business of packing out began. It was not without its hiccups, but in all it went brilliantly. We went about the business of closing ceremonies, seeing many of our guests off, and the feedback session, then everyone collapsed into a pile somewhere to be revived only when it was time to again load a truck and get out of Dodge…

I'm really glad that I got a chance to say goodbye to theScrub Club guys before they had to take off. They were fantastic guests and seemed to really enjoy the convention—Empyre could not have match-made better when he pointed them out as music guests. Now, if only we can get them to move to Detroit…I mean, Motown would be a pretty great fit for a record label renaissance!

Laboriously Giving Away the Door Prize

There were quite a few parts of this year's closing ceremonies that were notable for me. One was our inefficient method for giving out our door prize, an Ubuntu-running gaming laptop we purchased from MYTHLOGIC. After compiling the registrant list, then adding the various lists of participants in qualifying events (a very small addition…I want to make sure we do a better job of that next year), I had a numbered list of participants. I had a 10-sided die. I figured, “Hey, it's pretty compelling when the lottery shows the drawing of each number one at a time…let's do that!”

So I showed Chuck what I meant, and we enacted my clever plan.

It didn't go as planned.

It went better than planned!

Chuck rolled out the first set of numbers after a brief explanatory preamble and, as predicted, the owner of that number wasn't present. Chuck moved on, giving the person a few minutes to arrive, then rolled another number. The owner wasn't present.

No doubt feeling self-conscious (I would have), Chuck passed the die to his left and started letting the ConCom roll. Once, twice, thrice, four (fource?) times more we rolled out numbers of people that weren't present. At this point, I was doing the mental arithmetic and noting that with only about 150-200 people at the closing ceremonies and just over 1000 valid numbers, we could roll a lot of times without getting a single hit.

John Scalzi, at this point, saved us. After rolling one more time for a winner, John stood up and whipped the ineffective prize-recipient selector out into a random spot in the crowd. After the laughter settled down, John asked who in the audience had the die. A young lady held it up in the air, and Scalzi declared her the winner.

You can watch a (very dark) video of the whole event on YouTube…the final moment of selection starts around 14:40.

A Prize of a Different Sort

My favorite part of closing ceremonies, though, was the staff collaborating to give Sarah Slovik (our chair for next year) an award for basically single-handedly keeping the convention running during the 80%+ of the planning year that we found ourselves without a ConChair (or with a ConChair who was not actually chairing the con, which amounts to the same thing).

The goal had been to get Tux to give Sarah the prize on behalf of the staff and concom, however, timing interfered so Matt made sure to get the award up to her (around 4:25 in the above video). To be entirely honest here (and this is a moment of ‘how the sausage is made’ to be sure, so I apologize in advance), it was a rough year inside of programming. As head of Programming, Sarah was given marching orders that included a much more rigid manner of managing the tracks…then the chair went radio silent for many months before he finally stepped down. In absence of that, Sarah did an admirable job of continuing to try to adhere to the chair's guidance on how to run programming while simultaneously stepping up and helping make sure that the convention was even still happening.

When Trevor finally stepped down, Sarah continued to help steer the ship while trying to undo the damage that was done between the track heads and the convention…at this point, the damage was already pretty done though. Many good people were frustrated, and some are probably not going to return.

Through it all, though, Sarah was active in seeking advice as to how to fix things, sought feedback more voraciously than any department head that I've ever seen, and has earned a tremendous amount of respect among her peers that know what it means to do what she's done. I am really excited to see what she can do when given the wheel and allowed to steer for the WHOLE planning year!

Feedback Session

I love the feedback session. Without a doubt, it is one of my favorite parts of any convention year. Who doesn't like getting a quick pat on the back after putting in thousands of hours on something? Really, a sizable percentage of what is said at the feeback session amounts to exactly that: ‘this is a thing that you did well, please do it again’ or ‘this is a thing that I enjoyed, please keep up the good work.’

Even many of the complaints are of the constructive, ‘here is a thing that I enjoyed, but here is a way to make it better’ or ‘here is a thing I didn't enjoy, please make it go away’ variety. I would say that probably 80% of the things said at the feedback session are either congratulatory or are constructive complaints. It is telling, I think, that most of the complaints that we hear are things we already know about…a reality check as to how we're doing is essential to making this a great event.

Both of these are important factors, but the main reason for my enjoyment of the feedback session is purely selfish: I love to banter with our staff, concom, and attendees. Being able to make good-natured jokes at our own expense (Shasta Cola in the ConSuite…LITHIE!) in the face of constructive criticism, explain the reasons for critiques that are generally not fix-able (the ‘infinity dollars’ that it would cost to host the ConSuite in the function space), snark at people straying off-topic or into me-too territory (like 12 total minutes of ConSuite planning committee happening mid-session), and mocking the crowd's outrageous fickleness (this year, we want a central gathering place despite two years of complaining about the central gathering space at our last venue…which is okay, because we complained about the variety at the venue before that!).

Basically, if you ever are curious who the ‘real‘ Jer is, it's the guy with the microphone joking around with friends that you could find at the feedback session for the last few years. If you want to see a thoroughly light-deficient version, you can watch the two-part video here and here. Revel in all 94 minutes of complaints, congratulations, and snark.

Monday Load-Out

Load out went medium-smooth. The main convention stuff was on the truck and ready to roll by 11:30am. The ConSuite took quite a bit longer, but in fairness, there was quite a bit more to move from there (and there was considerably more sorting that had to happen). We do need to tighten that up some next year, but I think part of that can be handled by staging things differently. We have a year during which to manage that, though.

While the ConSuite sorting and load-out was going on, I met with the hotel and finalized our bill. My rough estimate of costs, as it turns out, were within $500 of our final costs; I like when my mental tally matches, it means that I was keeping track correctly. The final bill also happened to be within $250 of my budgeted guess from 18 months ago; this, however, is not skill…it was pure luck that got me that close (but I'm taking credit for it anyway).

After all of our equipment was out of the building, our rooms had been inspected out, and our business for the convention year was done, it was time to finally pack out my room and leave. I'm not prone to getting depressed all that often, but the post-convention let-down that hits immediately following managing an event this large is pretty depressing. This time it was especially bad, because I was so behind on packing up my stuff that I had an additional 30 or so minutes of just moping about the hotel room putting my stuff into bags and boxes on my own. Exhaustion plus post-event let-down equals one bummed Jer.

On to Penguicon 2013

Now Penguicon 2013 is just around the corner! Well, it feels like it's just around the corner, considering the amount of planning that has to be put together in the next 11 months. If you'd like to get involved (or if you, like me, just want to ease your way out of the post-con funk by seeing everyone again), come to the hand-off meeting May 19th at 5pm at the Hyatt. We will be serving food and drink, doing a quick hand-off ceremony, then relaxing and having fun (and probably talking about planning more than a little).

I hope to see you there!

Penguicon 2012 Report - Saturday

jer_ — Sat, 05 May 2012 21:08:57 EDT

A continuation of Friday's report…again, probably forgot people and events, blah blah blah…

Convention of Infinite Busyness

After the normal business of ensuring that everything was opened and ready to roll for the day, I had a few moments' break for breakfast before it was time to go to the Penguicon Board meeting. Fun was had, business was done; we decided to name our storage cube the Aaron Thul Memorial Cube in honor of the late Aaron Thul, who stepped down to move to the great white north. (Late, meaning he was late to the meeting, don't be morbid). Amanda Long-Adams was voted in as our newest board member and the board treasurer. The board purchased the networking hardware that we used this year for the convention.

The concom meeting immediately followed the board meeting. This, too, was extraordinarily productive. We were able to chat about plans for getting 2013 off to a running start, discuss some strategy, and make notes on improvements that can be made. Unfortunately, between planning and keeping things moving, I was unable to do the Match Game that I had been wanting to do. That especially sucks, since I was really looking forward to it. Luckily, Nuri and my co-host Carrie were able to do it without me. I understand that they had a great time.

The Food, It's All Made of Poison!

During the ConCom meeting, one particular volunteer wandered in to warn us of the end of our hour. He was specifically singled out by a few members of the committee as being something of a go-getter perhaps capable of handling more responsibility in next year's convention. Imagine my surprise, then, when I was summoned to the ConSuite later in the afternoon to address a volunteer being abusive to staff and attendees and it was our new friend.

When I walked in the room, the young man I'll call Paranoid McInsaneyPants immediately charged up to me and barked that I should “get over here,” and “look at this right now.” I asked if I could speak to him in the hall for a moment to try to calm the situation. Clearly, this wasn't what he wanted, as he repeated his orders in a shout. I reiterated my desire to see him in the hallway (with, perhaps, just a hint of anger in my voice for good measure) and he finally complied.

Have you ever had a conversation with someone who has utterly and completely slipped their grasp on reality? That was how the next few minutes went as I tried to calm down the nutter and he tried desperately to convey to me that Lithie, our consuite head, was POISONING EVERYONE WITH POISON. I am not joking, the conversation went something like this:

Paranoid McInsaneyPants: You have to listen to me, they're poisoning everyone!
Me: Settle down, what are you talking about?
PM: There are cardboard boxes everywhere and the ice is melting!
Me: There is no reason to treat the staff and volunteers that way
PM: Everyone is going to get sick or die and it will be all your fault!!!

It is important to note that every single one of his lines was delivered with that exact degree of chicken-little sounding mania that conveys a thoroughly weak grasp on reality. At this point, I explained that Mr. McInsaneyPants should probably see his way off-site. He agreed, but not without a villainous parting warning that we would “all be sorry.”

Hours later, our hotel contact pulled me aside to point out that the health department had called. After explaining the circumstances, she joined me in laughing about it and it was handled without incident. You might find yourself asking what our resident lunatic might have been so concerned about…as it turns out, having a stack of broken down cardboard boxes in a pile awaiting pickup, half-full trash cans, full trash bags set aside for pickup every two hours by the hotel, and sealed containers of lunch meat sitting immersed in ice in a lined bathtub all are dangerous toxins that might kill us all.

Needless to say, we won't be asking him to staff the next convention…probably…

Geek Prom

Sarah's Geek Prom was amazing. Literally, the only truly successful dance Penguicon has had as long as I've been around. It is a bummer that it was running against many of the headline concerts, because I got to pop back and forth between the two and both were absolutely fantastic. Sarah, Amanda, and Geralyn all looked gorgeous in their fancy dresses and everyone in the DeSoto room was having a great time. Ultimately, Ger and Amanda's consumption of booze without food meant we needed a dinner break, so we had to abandon the prom for some dinner before my accidental panel.

The Jer's Bored Panel

At one of the last planning meetings before the convention, I was making fun of how little programming had made it onto the schedule and said something regarding needing to add panels to the evening hours. I might have made reference to a Jer's Bored panel. I was amused to see, as we approached the convention, that it had made it onto the schedule. When the panel was brought up on Saturday and I indicated the unlikelihood that I would attend, Scott mentioned that a number of people had marked it on the schedule as something they'd be attending.

How could I disappoint my half dozen loyal fans?

The panel was actually a lot of fun…I had absolutely nothing interesting to say, fortunately James showed up absolutely inebriated, so he entertained the audience of 20 or so friends while we sat around and shot the shit for a while. The awkward moment arose when not one but two of my students from this semester showed up at the panel in time to hear such delightful nuggets as the time I tasted (not ate, tasted) dog shit and the 100 taco lunch stop. In all, I had a great time.

Missing Children Parts One and Two

While relaxing with a friend or two back in my room, I got a concerning phone call: the Dearborn PD had been called by a father who had lost his son. It being currently around midnight or so, I bolted down stairs to aid in the search. While determining how best to move forward, several things were revealed: the missing child was 14, the father hadn't looked in any of the function rooms, and the child was last seen playing a game called Werewolf with other con-goers.

Did I mention that we had just had to move a bunch of people that had been playing Werewolf an hour or so before?

I walked into the first room off the elevator, immediately saw a person who fit the description, and led him to his angrily waiting father and two equally angrily waiting police officers. Parents…if you lose your teenage child, consider looking for him or her for a moment before calling in the police.

Just as I was getting ready to head back upstairs, another person came wandering over to point out that their child was missing. Age? Around 14. Last seen? Playing Werewolf. I suggested the parent check the Steamer room. Paydirt, again!

I'm like the 14 year old kid whisperer.

I spent the rest of the evening sitting in the lobby and chatting with friends until I finally realized that the next day's work would require at least SOME sleep; at 5am, I finally wandered up stairs to turn in.

My hope is that I will manage to get the final report (covering both Sunday and Monday) up tomorrow. We shall see.

Penguicon 2012 Report - Friday

jer_ — Fri, 04 May 2012 21:43:46 EDT

As I mentioned in the previous day's report, I am confident that I am going to forget important people and events. Accept my apologies in advance for being such a mean, heartless dick…now on with the story…

Friday Morning Heart Attack

Friday morning started with a bomb scare.

A phone call at entirely-too-early-in-the-morning interrupted my tooth-brushing regimen with an inquiry from the head of housekeeping as to what the “big, metal, bomb-like things” were in the side rooms. My explanation that they were liquid nitrogen did little to assuage their fears: it seems that the word “nitrogen” has a certain anus-clenching property that is little comforted by assurances that things wouldn't go all kaboomy.

The hotel requested that we make the LN2 available for a fire marshall inspection, so Dan and his crew moved it downstairs to the loading dock to ease the process. As it turns out, giving the tanks an evening to warm up then changing their altitude by 4 floors makes for a lengthy off-gassing process. For several hours the lower pressure tank vented a slow, loud plume of cold nitrogen. I know that it went on for hours because I would get periodic updates from the hotel in the form of, “Jer, the tank is still hissing, should we be concerned?” and “Jer, should we wear any sort of mask or breathing apparatus back there?”

I suppressed my natural urge to fuck with everyone by inspecting the tank, hurriedly running away, then collapsing in a heap. Sometimes, being a responsible adult is almost not worth the effort.

Ultimately, the tank stopped hissing, we got the blessing of the fire marshall (with huge thanks to Anna for pulling down photos of the tanks in use so that we could show that our intended use is rational [and non kaboomy]) and migrated them back upstairs in time for Phil and Sarah (and another person whose name escapes me) to make with the ice creamy goodness.

The main part of the setup day went relatively uneventfully. A few minor hiccups involved in the setup and a couple of on-the-fly changes sprung up, but at this point, most of the team was pretty used to that and handled themselves professionally. I think, to the best of my knowledge, everything opened on time. The network came up later than planned, but still well before the start of the convention. Ossy, Boots, and Nick really did a great job of getting things ready, and I really appreciate the hotel's IT and engineering staff (especially Gabe and Dave) jumping through hoops to get things done.

Opening Ceremonies

Opening ceremonies was very entertaining. Our conchair (yes, we did too have one) Chuck Child had an actual prepared speech—possibly the first since Matt Arnold's year as chair—and managed to introduce us all to Penguicon in exactly the right way, thank all of the right people, and introduce all of the right honored guests (which seems like it should be a given, but…well…let's just say we've seen that go very, very poorly in the past). Some highlights of the opening ceremonies, for me:

John Scalzi playing Prince's “Kiss” on the ukelele. Seriously, I don't care who you are or what you are planning to do on a stage, you will never out-cool a man saying “I was paid a dollar to do this song” then calmly knocking out the Prince classic as though it were no more out of the ordinary than saying “I'm honored to be here.”
Mad Hatter charged over to John's seat and got his breast signed…exactly like one must when a Prince song is performed. So moved by his performance, was I, that I removed my pants and hurled them onstage like a tarpaulin-sized version of a groupie's bra. Of course, the moment they left my hands, I was texted that the hotel management was looking for me; confronted with the choice, I opted to run onto the stage in my boxer-briefs and meet the hotel clothed rather than the alternative.
Scrub Club Records winning the award for “Best Celebratory Introduction.” When they were introduced, Mad Hatter, King Pheenix, and the gang all jumped up and started cheering and celebrating their way to the microphone as if they had just won a Grammy, replete with acceptance speeches and King Pheenix's best “cocky douche” impression. I'd have sworn Lars Ulrich was up there! (It should be noted that Pheenix's act was especially amusing as each of the Scrub Club guys are really great, unassuming, and highly intelligent people. Some of my favorite guests of honor ever, actually!)
I'm given the opportunity to eat a bag of dicks. As I'm walking away from the stage so that the ceremonies can start, the audience collectively drew my attention back from my phone to the Acme delivery at the foot of the stage. Orvan the Ox had me sign for a box containing a confusing selection of beads and penis-shaped candies. When I expressed my puzzlement, Christine stood and declared that, on behalf of the entire Ops staff, “Jer, now YOU can be the one to eat a bag of dicks.” She got the ovation she deserved…masterfully played!
Mad Hatter proves to be among the geekiest of us all by turning to Chuck after Scrub Club was introduced and saying “thank you Joseph Michael Linsner!” I had to look it up, but the resemblance is uncanny!!

My Friday Panels

The roast of the previous year's conchair was relegated to an almost entirely inappropriate room for the show. Something to remember for next year, we need to be in a room with a stage of some sort, a dais would be nice, and some distance between me and the audience for when I apparently shit my pants mid-panel. Seriously, I let go a stench so foul that it literally cleared three rows of my side of the room. It was heinous.

The roast was very good, although true to form, I had done absolutely no writing at all, so everything was done pretty extemporaneously on-the-fly. I am not nearly enough of an improviser to do that, so, my part sucked, but everyone else did fantastically. As always, I'm really grateful to Dawn for putting that together…next year's roast should be interesting, though…this year's conchair drama should lend itself well to some tear-inducing and not-entirely-comedic material.

Immediately following the roast was the Flirting for Geeks panel which, I must confess, I didn't even know I was on. I had to sprint from the room several times to deal with moderate hotel glitches, to include at least one noise complaint called in by a member of my extended family.

Go ahead, read that last one back…not only did they call in a noise complaint, but they called it in on the consuite. At 1030pm. On Friday. And dropped my name.

I told to hotel to put them out on the street—since they weren't streeted, I'm assuming that the hotel found a different manner of handling things.

Friday Night Party Scene

In the months leading up to this con, we have heard so many rumors floating around about the party scene (mostly started at a different convention at the Hyatt that shall remain nameless): no parties are allowed after 10pm, all noise must be shut down at midnight, no alcohol will be allowed at parties, etc. I hope that the hotel security's performance on Friday and Saturday night has put that shit to bed in a big way.

We had a total of 6 noise complaints called in on Friday night. Of those, one was from the aforementioned family member, two were from a person that wasn't with the convention that was mistakenly placed on the party floor, two were because we were being so loud in the consuite that the noise was bleeding all the way to the quiet block, and one was a result of people camping in the hallways being loud. Once we had established a protocol for handling these things, hotel security did a brilliant job of ensuring that everyone was happy. Felix, the head of security, deserves a big, shiny medal.

ConSuite Concert Series

I was standing in the hallway on 5 in the buffer area near the elevators talking to security when I noticed a persistent, bassy music sound. When I inquired as to the source, the hotel staffer said that it was coming from “the concert in the hospitality suite on 4.”

The fucking what in the where on where?

I jogged to the end of the hall and down a flight of stairs to find Mad Hatter and King Pheenix in the side room jamming along-side some LN2 Ice Cream production. After waiting for what appeared to be the end of a song, I interrupted to request that they turn it down.

“How much?” they asked.

“Umm, maybe in half,” I responded, “we can hear you way down the hall on 5!”

To their credit, they cranked down the volume and I didn't hear another complaint the rest of the night.

Both Nuri and I handled a couple of issues here and there for the rest of the evening (mostly related to our drunk guests making nuisances of themselves, but precious few even of those), but overall, the night was quiet…a sharp counterpoint to a considerably more eventful Saturday night.

Allow me to Fellate Nuri for a While

I have said it before, but it bears repeating: without Nuri as the second hotel guy, this weekend would have probably ended in a bloodbath wherein I am coated in the remains of the staff members I was forced to tear through like a chainsaw (not a credible threat). Nuri absolutely saved my sanity. When I was busy, exhausted, or just plain feeling lazy, Nuri ran around and handled things for me. When things came up, Nuri capably solved problems he knew the answer to, found the answer to those he didn't, and kept me informed exactly as much as was necessary. I honestly couldn't ask for a more capable person to work with. As I told him this week: next year, he's not allowed to not be the hotel guy with me. It's mandatory!

I've been looking for someone to replace me for a couple of years now who isn't completely full of shit and is learning without pretending to know everything (because, shit, I've been doing it for years and I don't know everything. Nuri is the first that was even in the ballpark…and he's probably better than me!

The day of really interesting drama (to include the mystery of the poisoned meat) is Saturday…coming soon, to a browser near you.

Penguicon 2012 Report - Thursday

jer_ — Thu, 03 May 2012 15:52:42 EDT

I'm never sure how to put together my after-con blog entry…do I try to do an exhaustive, chronological dump; a highlight reel; a Twitter-style timeline? Do I only talk about the attendee-facing stuff, or should I do behind the scenes; both maybe? This, then, will be some terrible amalgam of the above made even more unreadable by my intellect-squashing exhaustion. I will certainly forget names, important points, and interesting events. If you and I shared a truly meaningful moment that I didn't share here, know that I definitely didn't forget, I was just respecting your privacy! Yes…privacy respect.

For me, con started on Thursday morning bright and early with meetings to update rooming lists then to be introduced to the hotel management team to discuss expectations and methods. Right out of the gate, I had a great feeling about the show…the staff was responsive, interested, asked questions to explore what we do…everyone in the room's attitude was very positive. With that done, I had a quick lunch and reviewed the GDR one final time before launch.

Sidebar

This weekend, more than one person asked how I keep it all straight. The answer is repetition. Throughout the planning year I put together documents that detail every major aspect of the show: room blocking, function space layouts and turns, pricing, security arrangements, contractual decisions…all of it. Additionally, I flag every single email that comes in with specific requests that don't really fall into my documentation. In the last week before con, I spend every idle moment rereading my documents and those emails over and over and over. I do not think it's an exaggeration to say that by Friday at 3pm, I have read it all over 1000 times. Planning is everything!

Load-in started at noon, and the team that was doing that was on FIRE. Dan and Lithie had things moving alarmingly fast despite our fridge and LN2 deliveries showing up in the middle of the load. Things I really like: bigger truck, loading dock, multiple storage areas in which to stage things, great volunteers to do the moving, and great staff to help direct that movement. Once things were unloaded, it was time for me to do what I do…laps around the hotel like a shark making sure things come together. One walkthrough to compile a list of things that haven't yet been done, then subsequent walkthroughs to verify the state of things as they near completion. The hotel was amazing throughout the process, so no complaints there.

The GoH dinner at the Mongolian BBQ was something of a clusterfuck…it seems that when BDs makes a reservation, they don't...you know...reserve tables or anything, so 15 minutes after our reservation time, they had tables for about 10 of our 40 people. By thirty minutes after, they could accommodate about 30ish of us. Nearly an hour into the meal, all of us were finally seated. That said, the confusing seating arrangements meant that the GoHs, ConCom, and Staff were distributed all around the place, so people got to actually sit and converse (as much as one can in a Mongolian BBQ) with people they'd have been unlikely to meet otherwise. I call it a success!

Fun Story

During the beginning of the meal, while establishing with our waitstaff and Amanda (the Treasurer) how the bill would be handled, I jokingly made the comment, "Pay? I was planning on a dine-and-dash…somebody here is bound to be slower than I!" Imagine Amanda's lack of amusement then, when we all ran back to the hotel to continue getting things ready and she was left with a hefty bill and a non-functioning credit card. From her text message: "OMG EVERYONE LEFT ME WITH THE BILL AND A BAD CREDIT CARD! :-p"

Take a hint, Amanda!!!!

After making sure that all Thursday setup was done, Dawn, Greg, John, Ger, and I adjourned to my room to relax and chat a bit. After a brief bit of catching up (and some much needed laughter), we heard a polite knock on the door. Hotel security mentioned to me that there was a noise complaint. Now, mind you, I had told the consuite, in no uncertain terms, that we had to keep things quiet…it was only Thursday, so it was certain that there would be a considerable number of non-convention guests nearby. I explained this as I prepared to go deal with the situation when the security team—not without a certain degree of embarassment on my behalf—pointed out that the consuite was fine...it was my party of five that was the problem.

First noise complaint of the convention goes to the hotel liaison chatting with friends in a guest room. Of course, if you've ever heard Greg or me “chat quietly” then I'm sure you are unsurprised.

We continued the rest of the evening at the pool terrace before all of us decided that it would be best to crash for the night.

More to come right here (the link should work once I actually write it up…)

Writing in Public

jer_ — Sun, 19 Feb 2012 20:25:48 EST

Yesterday, a friend tweeted that she was writing a paper and didn't think she'd finish. Several of us ‘helped out’ by contributing some writing to her. I tried to give her a series of genres to choose from…(in chronological order)

Persuasive Essay Truly, it can be said that there are legitimate problems with the trafficking of children, but often ancillary benefits are ignored.

Personal Narrative “It's not that I meant to,” I sobbed, “I was only cutting a new fuck hole in her...I didn't know she'd die, I'm not a doctor”

Slash-Fiction Edward Cullen leaned into him, whispering huskily into his ear. “I want to watch you die as I cum.” “But I'm the boy who lived...”

Classical Horror It is with great trepidation that I endeavor to transcribe the events of the last fortnight before my grip on sanity slips completely. Of course you will now know of the results of my sex tape with @kimkardashian; but we begin with humble bestiality.*

Academic Research Paper The following defines a method for deriving the relationship among adjacent nodes in a network comprised of STDs in my bitch exes.

Pulp Sci-Fi Biff piloted his star cruiser into the spaceport on Zalax's most distant moon with careless aplomb. A blinkie light flashes mutely.

Fantasy “By Glawgon's beard,” the dwarf exclaimed, slamming down his mug, “that is delightful pudding!”

Noir The dame walked in, all long legs and sultry good looks. Hair cascaded down over pert, round breasts. What a twat.

A Third Grade Essay ...And then, I got daddy's bottle of green Mobil juice out. And then, I filled the bowl. And then, I let in the dog...

Nature Channel Script Watch as the newborn calf unsteadily takes her feet. Her mother nudges her gently into tentative first steps. So slow, so sexy.

Web Design Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua.

I should totally be an author!

* I cheated a bit here, as this ended up being two tweets long…but, you don't skimp on a Kardashian.

Hip Deep In Pie

jer_ — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 16:24:01 EST

Dan: You know sometimes it's worth it, taking all the pies in the face. Sometimes you come through it feeling good.
Casey: Yes.
Dan: And how was your day?
Casey: Sometimes you just stand there, hip deep in pie.

I am a problem solver, and—without any undue hubris (well, without too terribly much undue hubris would be closer to the truth)—I'm a damned good one in the most complete sense of the phrase. You see, being a problem solver is actually far wider than most people comprehend. For most people, problem solving begins and ends at managing the often insurmountable space between a problem and a solution—I have to get object A from point B to point C within set time and capital budgets D and E, for example. That's not problem solving, though. That's just logistics. It is challenging, satisfying, and rewarding to be sure, but it is not problem solving.

For others, problem solving is more a set of avoidance techniques, as if to say that with sufficient planning, problems will simply fail to arise. When problems do arise, they are undoubtedly warning signs of impending doom, so we are to walk delicately with carefully chosen footsteps through a problematic minefield. (Which supposes that there are non-problematic minefields…but I digress). This isn't problem solving either, although it, too, is an invaluable component.

Problem solving, in reality, requires harnessing several of these skills, and many, many others. You have to be a planner with the ability to accurately gauge the potential pitfalls of your courses of action and the patience required to plan for each of them in accordance with their likelihood. You have to be a problem solver, able to develop those plans in a way that takes full advantage of your resources without depleting them unnecessarily. You have to be a callous spender of those resources, but not so callous as to render them unavailable should they be required again. You have to be strict enough to stick to the course even when things start to fall apart. You have to be relaxed enough to let things that cannot be solved go entirely and without reservation. Most importantly, you have to be judicious enough—you have to be realistic enough—to know when the time is right for each of these tactics.

I am pretty damned good at all of this. I catch a lot of shit for being brusque, and I accept that without question, because being blunt when it's necessary comes with the territory. Being realistic means knowing that your work style and that of others will not always fit, and that when you need it to work you have to deftly maneuver the reporting structure to accommodate the space that is needed between two personalities in an organization. I'm okay with being disliked on a professional level (and, within reason, on a personal level), and I think that it's telling that professionals with whom I've worked in almost any capacity do not hesitate to work with me again whenever possible: be it for me, with me, or above me.

My kryptonite, though, is the result of one of my bigger strengths. As it turns out, one of the many reasons that I can do what I do with the efficacy with which I do it is the dispassionate nature with which I can address problems. People questioning my decisions are not often confused as questioning my intelligence or wit, they have different information than I; it's not personal. My best laid plans going dreadfully awry are not indicators that I'm a failure, they are indicators that the world is just as chaotic as it should be; it's not personal. Problems that cannot be solved are not insurmountable obstacles, they are roadblocks that will steer me to a new solution; they aren't personal. All of these and more with calm, rational evaluation that comes of relative confidence in my abilities and utter realism in the face of…well…reality.

But I cannot do this when a specific result matters to me. When Wil Wheaton couldn't make it to Penguicon 7.0, it was heartbreaking. I was really looking forward to meeting him and it seemed we'd finally broken the curse, but that heartbreak did not translate into inaction. We decided to make the best of it, revamped programming to use Wil's friend (who was amazing, by the way), and moved on with nary a second thought. The Wil attending was not what mattered to the event; a fantastic event full of great programming mattered to the event.

When I'm taking care of my family, this simply doesn't scale. It seems that, when it comes to my family, it is, in fact, personal. When things start going poorly: if the children are being endangered by their mother or if poor information flow is causing financial distress, I have a keen interest in a very specific result…or at least, I have a keen disinterest in a specific series of results. When my desire to make a specific outcome happen runs afoul of my abilities as a problem solver, there is hell to pay.

Hell, as it turns out, typically is paid in the form of more weight on my shoulders—a bigger, personally-inflicted burden to bear. When the smoking around my children has gotten so bad that my son has picked up that wheezing sound in his lungs from time to time, the problem solver in me says “call child protective services” and grieves when I don't. When everyone else failing to plan around finances or time constraints, the problem solver in me says “without consequences, actions don't change…let this fall apart and they'll learn to plan better.” The solutions that Problem Solver Jer (now available in a couples pack with Malibu Barbi!) come up with are unacceptable to me for a wealth of reasons, so I'm stuck feeling helpless.

I do not do helpless well.

When I feel helpless, I feel frustration…and helplessness plus frustration becomes anger to me really quickly. So I spend my time shoving my head down; swallowing huge, punishing gobs of frustration and hopelessness; taking as much of the consequences of everyone's poor planning on myself as I can aim this direction; shoving forward; and trying to just do it all. In my mind's eye, I have the mental image of an 80s era Andre the Giant wrestling a pile of midgets…like Andre, I am slowly finding failure.

The kicker of it is, I minded less when I wasn't failing. When I was doing it all I could just keep telling myself that there was a light at the end of the tunnel and that it wasn't a train and that if I keep pushing forward dragging everything with me all would eventually be well, I didn't mind in the least. All will not be well, though. All might never be well. I simply can't do it. I can't do anything I wish to, pretty much ever, any more…my plate is too full of what I absolutely have to do, what I should do, and what I need to do to make my family happy. These would all be perfectly reasonable sacrifices to me were I succeeding…but I'm not succeeding.

This semester is the worst academic semester I've had since I've gone back to school. I, literally, not figuratively, failed a midterm. I've never done that, least of all with material I theoretically know. I just don't have time to spend on the class. I have coursework and term projects due in the next couple of weeks that I haven't even started yet. I have home life stuff that I cannot even discuss, which is more difficult for me than you can imagine because that sort of discussion is the only way I remain sane. Everything is falling apart, that's the part I'm having trouble dealing with. I don't mind shouldering everyone's load, but I'm failing to do so.

I have a problem to solve, and my formidable set of skills in that area are entirely useless to me. I just sort of want to give up…and it's been a really, really long time since I've felt like this. It's an entirely unwelcome feeling.

Sorry to be so maudlin, so self-indulgent, and so whiny. Truth be told, this is a pretty profoundly first-world-problem to have. We still have food for our stomachs, a roof over our heads, heat in our home, jobs, and all of the trappings of middle-class suburban life. Quite frankly, I have precious little to bitch about—but what good is having a blog if I can't be a bit self indulgent now and again, eh?

Occupy Reality

jer_ — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 13:00:04 EST

Two weeks ago, I found myself shaking with outrage at the treatment a handful of peacefully assembling students received at the hands of a bunch of police. By this time, you've all seen this clip or one almost exactly like it. At the time, I was so annoyed that I didn't even bother to investigate further. “Surely,” I thought, “if there were more to this story…if the students had done something to warrant this…that information would be released by now.”

Basically, I was naïve and did exactly what the media was trying to persuade me to do; mindlessly bleat.

As it turns out, some factors that I hadn't considered were that there wasn't any real press on campus for this, and the police were too busy trying to do their job to make a video recording of the events. All existing video (that we've seen thus far) was shot by passers-by and participants. It is unsurprising that only one side of the story was heard—what is unsurprising is that I never noticed that all I was seeing from an entire day of drama was the same minute and change. How could I not notice that hours upon hours of standoff, bickering, arrests, and interaction was distilled into clips of the same sixty seconds?

Because I was outraged. Way too outraged for logic or rational thinking.

The other day, then, when a friend posted a video purported to show the “other side” of the story, I watched it with a comment window open ready to just lambaste him for being an idiot. What could these children have done to warrant such an attack? How can any video soften such violence? As it turns out fairly convincingly. (There is a version with some occasionally needed commentary, but I find it to be more than a bit inflammatory, so I'd suggest watching it second, if you watch it at all.)

Initial Arrests

The actual timeline deviates considerably from the most commonly cited versions of events…in some cases so thoroughly that I am having a hard time not considering the “victim” stories to be contrived for effect. Should this video be believed¹, the police asked the students to leave where they were illegally assembled, warned them of the pending arrest for unlawful assembly, then arrested them.

Let's discuss that for a moment, because here is the first red herring moment that we often find ourselves chasing: should the students be allowed to protest where they were? I believe they should; the right to peaceful assembly is an important one given by our constitution…and I think we've ceded that right far too easily and in far too many cases. Here's the important bit though: it doesn't fucking matter one bit whether or not they should have been allowed to protest there. If I disagree with the speeds posted on my residential street, I don't get to choose my own speed and damn the consequences. If I feel that the 1% have taken more than their fair share, I don't get to steal it back from them. I spend an alarming amount of parenting time quelling this childish sense of entitlement in my kids—a place in which it is perfectly normal to find it. I find it appalling that I might have to explain such a thing to a grownup.

The initial arrests were warranted because the protesters were breaking the law. At the end of the day, that is an important fact that we keep hand-waving away. If you break the law, you get punished. Frankly, if you understand civil disobedience, being arrested is fairly integral to the activity. Both sides fulfilled their social contract: the protesters made their displeasure known and the police detained them with a certain degree of dignity. Things were as they should be. Were…

This was all, for the most part, disclosed by the participants that have spoken out after the pepper-spraying event. The next bit, however, was notorious in its absence from student accounts of things.

Under Seige

By the new video's account of things, the police then set about the business of making sure the crowd dispersed so that they could then take those that had been detained into custody. It was during this process that the protesters made the decision to leave the protest area and move, en masse, to where the police were. They then made a tragic misstep, they implied aggression against the police.

The protesters encircled the police, locked arms, and started demanding that their fellow protesters be released. Using a human microphone, the students explained that they would allow the police to leave provided that their friends were set free. Let me restate that: a group of somewhere between 30 and 40 police officers were surrounded by what appears to be hundreds of citizens and told that they would not be allowed to leave unless they freed those that had been arrested.

Now, many people are making light of the act of aggression that is inherent in surrounding a group of people and making demands in return for their freedom—I can't really discuss this with them. If you are divorced sufficiently from reality as to not see how this is an act of actual aggression, you are not someone with whom I care to try to reason. For those of you that can at least recognize the fact that this is, really, a fairly aggressive act disguised as passivity, then we have a certain degree of intellectual common ground from which we can discuss this.

There are a lot of talking points surrounding this I've seen posited around the 'Net. Some of the arguments that I have seen:

This is not an act of aggression: If you take a large group of people and surround a smaller group of people, no matter how faux-peacefully, you are being hostile—you are being aggressive. There is no way for them to pass by you without being aggressive toward you, there is no way for them to get by without making themselves vulnerable to you, there is no way that it is not aggression.

The police should not have used force: So this group that has been trapped by a larger (but more poorly armed and trained) group can no longer go about their business. How do they leave? Join arms and walk out like some sort of ridiculous game of Red Rover? Finish that thought…where does it go from there? So the police join, arm-in-arm, with their charges and STEP OVER the protesters? How does that work? Alternately, perhaps they should just hang out in the circle? Chill…order a pizza…just all get along…for how long? How long should they wait for the very real possibility of the crowd turning violent? What is your end-game here? If you don't have an end-game, what you have is a losing strategy (but if your entire strategy is “the police shouldn't use force”, then strategy wasn't really your thing).

The police should have used one-on-one force: One-on-one force is one hell of a gamble. If it works, the police only get blamed for manhandling a half-dozen or so students. If it doesn't work, there is full-scale violence that runs the risk of serious injuries and/or death. Oh, and the chances of an assembled mob of protesters sitting back and peacefully allowing parts of their membership to be manhandled are pretty slim: this was a group that held the police hostage for peacefully arresting some of their friends. Surely this couldn't go badly.

The police shouldn't have used pepper spray without warning: They did warn…repeatedly. If you watch the video, you will see that not only did the protesters know, they verbally shouted warnings to one another. “Protect your eyes and mouth,” they yelled to one another. Then one of the agitators changed their chant to “Don't shoot children!” These protesters weren't sprayed without warning…no, they opted in favor of pepper spray rather than allowing the police to leave.

The police's use of pepper spray was excessive: You are correct. The way that the pepper spray was used was excessive. If you believe the reports from the protesters, it was considerably excessive. Even if you choose only to believe what you can discern from video, the initial deployment was too close and the spray was done two-times too many. This needs to be investigated, and training needs to be done to ensure that the spray is properly used in the future. Excessive use of pepper spray, however, does not equal “should not be using force.” This is what we call a red herring. It's an important side discussion that should be had…but not instead of the actual discussion.

What Does It Mean

To dispose of the rest of the red herrings, it is important to put this all into context. The revelations about this particular occupy event does not change the true and demonstrated police mishandling of other occupy events. It doesn't excuse police in Oakland, it doesn't excuse the 1%, it doesn't side with the bankers, it doesn't do any of that. What it does do is point out that we are getting out of hand with the media coverage and rhetoric. I try very, very hard to stay informed and gain information neutrally, and I allowed myself to be fed a line of bullshit on this one. It isn't hard to do. A well crafted piece of disinformation does exactly that. My own hubris allowed me to believe that I was too smart to fall for such a thing; the same hubris in people whose intellect and reason I generally respect prevents them from admitting that they were taken by lies.²

What does it mean? It means that we need to start being more careful. It means that the police that are there to protect us and enforce our laws need surveillance…without which Lt. Pike's misuse of pepper spray and the occupy movement's misuse of the media both would have gone unchecked. It means that we need to evaluate the restrictions we've place on peaceful assembly. It means a lot of things.

It doesn't mean that police acted incorrectly, though. The jury is very, very out on that one.

¹ Of course, let's not make the same error as we have in the past and just assume that the video is true. Right now, things lean that way. Tomorrow…who knows.

² This is not to say that if you disagree with any of my assessments you are foolish or being taken in by lies, but if you are simply denying the facts because you dislike them (or because they don't fit in with your worldview)…well…odds are you haven't bothered to read this far.

Shaking Up My Social Network

jer_ — Sun, 27 Nov 2011 23:54:16 EST

This weekend, I decided to take at least a little time for myself and do something not directly related to work or school…so I finished configuring my social networking presence (for the eleventy-millionth time, to date)

Basically, my social media presence is three principle types: blogging—my school blog; the blog tied to my personal “ brand” and this, my main blog…micro blogging—which I use a pair of Twitter accounts for pretty exclusively… and finally, social networking sites—comprised of my Facebook (and a corresponding Facebook fan page for jer_) and my Google+ (and a Plus Page for ibloviate.org).

Until now, I have been doing a rather haphazard system of posting wherein I make an ad hoc decision as to whether any mediums are specifically bad choices for my message, then broadcast it to everywhere else. The way this generally falls down is that most of my posts are diplicated across the board, with only the posts that aren't particularly school-friendly not making the cut for posting on the school accounts.

The downside is that I have some accounts that go largely unused aside from duplicating the content of others. This seems sub- optimal in so many ways.

So, I've renovated how I'm going to be using all of them…I have created two tracks for information; I will call them the “ Jer” and the “jer_” track. The “Jer” track is the easy one. All of the posts that I want to have directly and immediately associated with me go in this track…basically, if I want it to be on the first Google page when someone does a search for my real name, this is the track that I'll post it under.

The “jer_” track is for everything else. It's not as if I'm actively going to try to hide the connection between the two tracks (I mean, I'm writing about them here…and both bear my first name…), but I would like to generate a certain amount of seperation. What this seperation means, though, is that duplication between tracks will not be the norm anymore. Both Twitter accounts carry different posts, the Facebooks will not duplicate one another, etc.

The tracks…

	Jer Track	jer_ Track
Website	JerLance.com	ibloviate.org
RSS Feed	blog.xml	rss.xml
Twitter	@UofMD_Jer	@jer_
Google+	Jer Lance	ibloviate
Facebook	jeremylance.mi	jer.underscore

As always there will be some duplication within a track. My Facebook, because I do not much care for it, will continue to be a place that merely reposts tweets from their respective Twitter accounts. When I post a new blog entry, for example, I will post notification in Twitter and G+ (and, by way of Twitter, Facebook). When I have a quick message, I will throw it up on Twitter (and it will roll onto Facebook). When I have a slightly longer thought, I'll post it to G+.

So, the net affect to you, the reader, would be this: If before you were following only my regular Facebook (not the fan page), or my @UofMD_Jer twitter, then nothing changes. Those should look identical from here on out. If, however, you've been following @jer_ or my Facebook fan page, some of the traffic that used to be there will be going over to the other track. Finally, if you have been following both, you'll note that the duplication should cease (generally).

We shall see how this works.

It's Not You, It's me

jer_ — Sat, 10 Sep 2011 03:14:59 EDT

I have been pondering for several years, now, the notion of moving all of my LiveJournal posting over to here.¹ The thing that has held me back for the whole time has been the comment system. I have been planning to implement my own threaded comment system akin to theirs, but have been thus far hampered by a few things:

I am profoundly lazy, and I find other projects to do that are a better use of my time than re-implementing something I already have (admittedly, my method is thoroughly kludged together).
I don't relish the notion of setting up an account system for my site because, in the long-term, it means more work no matter how it is put together.
If I did set one up that was literally zero extra work, there would still be the issue of making everyone create a whole new account simply to interact with one another on my playground.
If I use one of the existing account methods (OAth via Twitter, Facebook, GMail, etc), I will be necessarily excluding someone…and more importantly I will be tying myself yet again to a platform (or platform) that isn't mine.

So, rather than manage the situation, I've been ignoring it for a quite a while, content to use my ham-handed workaround instead of a real solution. Lately, though, I've been considering whether or not I'm even solving the right problem; am I asking the right question? Do I even want or need comments on my posts?

Certainly, when I first started writing my blog, I did. It was a community thing and every post was an attempt at a conversation. As time has passed, I have had less and less time for such conversations and, truth be told, it has become something of a deterrent to posting: knowing that I'm going to have to deal with trolls, spammers, and folks that want to start fights about tangential topics and boundary cases means that sometimes I just decide not to post. I just don't always have the time to put into making sure I formulate my thoughts such that there are no easy footholds for the aforementioned nuisances, nor the time to monitor the thread afterward to ensure things are on topic and not egregiously trolly.²

Recently, I have watched with keen interest as author Tobias Buckell made the transition on his blog to commentlessness and thought, wistfully, “Wouldn't it be nice?” Since then, it's been weighing on me. Is it “chicken” to cut off responses? Is it going to alienate my readers? My traffic has been steadily increasing (until the last 8 months when I all but stopped posting), so will this ruin that? Do I even care?³

So, have decided to do away with comments, and in doing so, migrate everything over to my primary blog at IBloviate.org (soon, actually, to become bloviate.org now that it's un-squatted…you heard it here first). There will still be a copy of any older stuff on my LJ…and everything that currently links to comment threads on LJ (to include this final commentary-bearing missive) will retain its links, but every single post I've made will be landing in a new category on here called 'Blournals' which will be search-able right from here. In the end, I think it's going to be the best decision for me, and I certainly hope that it translates to a better experience for you in terms of more entries.

Finally, what do you do if you still want to tell me I'm wrong, or that my head is up my ass, or that I'm stunningly good looking? Well, most people have been choosing to interact with me via Twitter, Google+, or Facebook when I announce an update, so there's an option. Or you can email. Or you can mock me from your own blog. All of these are options.

¹I know, I know, abandoning the community, blah blah. The fact is, it's not mine, it disappears sometimes, and the value it provided me I'm slowly finding I don't actually want or need. Sorry if you're an LJ enthusiast, but I'm just not finding it useful anymore for my purposes.

²Well, at least not more trolly than I make it…which I think we can all agree leaves quite a bit of room to move.

³Of course I do…hello, egotist over here, DUH!

P-R-I-VIL-E-G-E

jer_ — Sat, 09 Jul 2011 17:44:22 EDT

So, there's this new social media platform by Google—no, not Buzz…or Wave…this time it's Google+. At some point in the not-so-distant future I'd really like to assemble a post about the service and where it fits into my social media and Internet self-aggrandizement landscape, but first I have to figure out where it fits into that landscape; a task proving more difficult as time goes on, rather than less. Instead, I want to discuss something only peripherally related. Let's talk about privilege.

Google is impressing upon us that we "use the name that [we] commonly go by in daily life", and I couldn't be much more happy with a decision. If it will help limit the ways that this platform is used for marketing, spamming, and other non-social things, then kudos. There is room in my Internet life for something that eschews anonymity in favor different goals. If I want anonymity, I'll use a different service…which makes sense, because my goals will be different, but this isn't really the focus either.

Of course, continuing to prove that every issue is a women's rights issue, this is an example of women being trampled on on the Internet according to the Geek Feminism Blog. I disagree with most of the points they make in there, and consider the vast majority of their arguments so far afield that I can't even really lodge a reasonable response…it seems like they're just lumping reasons why anonymity in general might be an important idea and foisting those reasons off on us as if they are reasons why anonymity on this specific platform is an important idea. This is especially troubling for me because I started reading GeekFeminism.org for its well reasoned, admirably thought out tone at a time when the feminist blog I used to enjoy perusing, Feministing.org, starting its rapid descent into madness with the same sorts of specious, poorly thought out arguments; but even that is a post for another day. Today, let's focus on the use of ‘privilege” in this post.

Since we (and by we, I mean rational humans) can't really play on their bingo card, I made a bingo card that can be used when discussing pretty much any topic with any activists—feminists, fighters of racism, fighters of ableism, etc.

You only need one tile type to play, because at the end of the day, the call that is going to be used to put all arguers in their place is that of ‘privilege’. This isn't to say that privilege isn't real (PROTIP: it is), or that privilege isn't an issue that makes communication difficult between those who have it and those who do not (PROTIP: it is and does). It is to say, though, that most of the time that the word is being used, it's being wielded as a weapon to shut down dissent. Rather than being used to actually identify an issue that can grease the wheels of communication, it is used as a virtual shut-up stick by one side of an argument. It is a basic form of argumentum ad hominem circumstantial, it is rhetorically fallacious, and it needs to be excised from the argument until it can be used correctly again. That's right, all of you that have abused ‘privilege’ as a rhetorical device are punished from using it.¹

“I'm not sure how not being able to be anonymous on this particular platform is a slap in the face of women. Isn't that like saying that bullriding not being wheelchair friendly is a slap in the face of the handicapped? Or that a rib joint serving meat is a slap in the face of vegetarians?”…“Of course you'd say that, you live a life of privilege!”

“Isn't it fair to say, though, that everything in the world isn't designed for everyone in the world? I mean, clearly it's a fine line, but if something isn't designed to be specifically exclusive, but its design makes it such that some people don't want it (like, for example, a cigar bar not being particularly palatable to non-smokers), shouldn't we consider that reasonable and take our custom elsewhere?”…“Well look at Mr. Privilege over here reinstating separate-but-equal!”

“I don't think that's what I'm saying at all, actually. It feels like you're just hand waving the discussion with phrases that are meant to shut me up rather than discussing the concepts with me.”…“It isn't my responsibility to educate you.”

“I think you are enjoying the benefits of your privilege now. Yours allows you to invoke privilege anytime you want, but if someone calls you out on failing to participate in a discussion you created, you can fall back on the ‘it's not my responsibility’ bit.”…“Did…did you just invoke privilege on ME? How dare you use your privilege to claim that I have privilege!”

The fact of the matter is, privilege is a tricky subject, as is every other facet of this sort of discussion; and it's plenty difficult enough to talk about without misusing language to avoid your own responsibility in the educational process. If you start a discussion, it is your responsibility to actually have the discussion if you want it to be perceived as fact. When you hand-wave away parts of the discussion because they're too hard, you solidify your beliefs as mere opinion.

As it turns out, opinions are pretty easy to blow off.

So, when people misuse the term ‘privilege’ in a discussion, call them on it…and if they aren't explaining how it applies in the situation in which they're invoking it, they are definitely misusing it. And if you are someone who enjoys throwing out the ‘privilege’ word without giving any thought to how it actually applies to the argument, maybe you could consider the notion that you aren't helping anybody; perhaps you're just making the waters muddier mucking about in the discussion.

Perhaps you could even actually read the TOS and verify what you're arguing about before you start your tempest in a teapot…you might find that you are badly mistaken in many areas of your diatribe.

Nah, never mind that last bit. I knew I was going too far there.

¹ This sentence is going to be the one cited as “the author having the temerity to boss us women/disabled/other around like he owns us” or some other form of my privilege. Hopefully, a reasonably intelligent reader that grasps the generally tongue-in-cheek nature of this and most of my other posts will grasp the colloquial jokey-ness the sentence is meant to represent. In case you aren't one of those, please note at this time that I grasp that I am not your caregiver and in no way think I have the capacity to punish you from things…I just wish I could.

I Am A Popinjay

jer_ — Sat, 26 Feb 2011 18:50:45 EST

Okay, seriously, this is my favorite day ever. EVER! Okay, after my marriage.

…and the birth of my kids…

…and college graduation…

Well, you get the idea.

The day began simply enough. A friend (or, at least, an acquaintance, I wouldn't presume to speak for her and imply that she considers me a friend, y'know) publicly indicated her intention to ghost¹ a convention. A fellow runner of conventions posted a message stating the obvious: that while it is in poor form to ghost, it is even poorer form to do so and advertise that fact publicly. Knowing that there is strength in numbers, I chimed in and stated the same…in my own inimitable way².

A few people waded in and opined that castigating public advertisement—by recognized members of fandom—of ghosting was a terrible affront and that, for varying reasons, ghosting isn't that bad. I argued the counter. At some point, I have an entire post to put together about why both (that is, ghosting and advertising ghosting) are bad, but that's not the focus of this. The focus is the slightly melodramatic response by a long term member of the group…herein lies the story of Davroz!

Davroz posted the following tidbits. The screed on the left was the first (set) and was in the thread wherein the bulk of the shenanigans went on. That thread can be found here (assuming that the originator of the thread doesn't pull/lock it. I wouldn't blame her, the thread got more than a little out of control.) The missive on the right was in my Facebook thread that pointed to the first thread, in which some meta discussion took place. That can be found here (assuming I don't lock or pull it, which I can't imagine I will.)

David Rozian: Jer Lance, I'm going on the record to say, unreservedly and without any hint of humor or irony, you *really* are a dick! I have never seen someone take what was a simple statement on a person's wall post to such a level of heated diatribe and flaming bulls**t. You are supposed to be in a position of responsibility, being a conchair. However, you have taken it upon yourself to make savaging Amber, Scott and Mike your almighty crusade. Never have I seen such profligate use of scathing personal abuse, excessive expletives, ad hominum arguments, put-downs and vilification. You have the unmitigated gall to take credit for *making* Amber buy a badge. I'm right here next her, and I can say for a fact, sir, she scraped together every cent she had of her own volition, not yours, you arrogant pompous poppinjay!

I watched half of the comments made against you by Scott completely vanish from this thread, leaving only the evidence of your chronic abuse as tribute to your great oratorical debating ability. I fully expect you to crow from the barn-top of your exploits, "See the Great Jeremy Lance, chasing the barbarians from the gate!" From my viewpoint, you've alienated at least four potential paying attendees to your convention.

Well, let me tell you, you bloody knob, you have a bigger problem brewing than poor kids ghosting these events. Irrational dictators around the world are being confronted and toppled for their continued sense of entitlement and abuse of power. Regardless of the 'rightness' (read self-righteousness) of your stand against ghosting, the manner by which you made your case and the inappropriatenss of this choice of venue verges on the legal definition of Libel!

The baldfaced presumption on your part that you may publicly belittle, degrade or humiliate someone on their own Facebook page, without hint of reserve, humility or regret and with apparent belief in your own impunity *DEMANDS* at the very least a formal apology to Amber Roe, Scott Kimlek, and Mike Bastin, and quite possibly a petition to all the board members of all midwestern conventions which associate themselves with you to have you censured, removed and banned from future activities which would put you in any position of authority until such time as you can do so with a civil tongue!

Savage me as you might, I am not going to stand idly by and let you get away with this again. Consider yourself on notice, sir. This tyranny SHALL NOT STAND!

David Rozian: Glad you all find this a "fun" conversation, but has anyone considered that maybe the owner of this wall might not enjoy having their motives, morality and associates so rudely attacked in the manner Jer seems to prefer, ie brusque, unbridled use of expletives and personal put-downs. Honestly, I don't know why anyone supports this hypocrisy, as I see more juvenile use of says you, yo' mamma', and grade-school self agrandisements on Jer's part than Scott. I want to see what his honor, the mayor, would say to a similar attack leveled here. What if this shoe were on the other foot? How about someone accusing a con-chair of malfeasance (true or otherwise)? I want to point you to my response on the original thread, not a defense of ghosting mind you, which the originator of the thread is *not guilty* of, but a serious question of Jer's legitimacy to conduct Con business as evidenced by his tirades, attacks, unsparing abuse and turning of critical facts to suit his arguments. Would you stand for a political leader holding office exhibiting such impolitic behavior *IN PRINT*, on the record? I think apologies are in order, on the record, or censure otherwise!

So, leaving aside, for a moment, the lack of a coherent understanding of such terms as ad hominem arguments, oratorical, irrational, dictator, the difference between rightness and self righteousness, libel, reserve, humility, tyranny, unbridled, morality, hypocrisy, and undoubtedly a host of others—let us instead just absorb this in all of its unmitigated glory. Read it again. Seriously. Read it. Just, let the emotion carry you. Davroz, in his own little world, is the heroic lead in a play where the dastardly Jer is the tyrant dictator of something that matters somewhere…you can just feel it! A lesser man than I might opine that Davroz has lost his grip on reality and might actually believe that all the world really is a stage in the literal sense rather than the metaphorical. It is, to further abuse his use of language, spectacular oration. I might have to do dramatic readings of this bloody thing, it's such a work of art.

Alas, like many works of art, it is largely a work of fiction, as well. Let us begin with the notion that I am not, nor have I ever been, a conchair. I have no desire to do so, nor have I ever expressed anything but abject horror at the thought. Upon my first reading, I stopped there figuring “Well, if he doesn't even know who the conchairs of the conventions are, then why should I care even slightly about his obviously entirely uninformed opinion”; but my wife indicated that the whole of the missive was not to be missed, so I read on.

Upon completion, my initial thought was Wait a fucking minute, did that motherfucker call me a fucking popinjay? What in the name of fucking hell is a popinjay!? A bit of Googling later: A goddamned bird? Oh, a talkative person…yeah, that's fair. Afterward, however, I arrived at a more pressing concern. In Davroz's Play Land(tm), the windmill at which he is so furiously tilting would have me as a dictator, which he then compares to the dictators being put down on the other side of the world currently.

Wait, don't gloss over that thought. Let that sink in: he is literally comparing me bitching someone out for advertising theft from friends to individuals who have committed murder, assassination, and other heinous acts of violence. Seriously! In Davroz's Play Land, heretofore referred to as DPL, “Hey, stealing from friends is a dick move” is the equivalent of violence that resulted in thousands of serious injuries and hundreds of deaths. That seems pretty rational. He basically Godwin³-ed himself

Over on my Facebook, he rails against some imagined hypocrisy (perhaps I am secretly pro-theft-from-friends?) and points out that my friends would never accept such a thing from a real life elected leader, implying, I can only assume, that I am an elected political figure with all that that entails. As such, I eagerly await several years' salary (at an astonishingly reasonable by political office standards of only $10k per year per convention) and invite other board members and convention runners to do the same. I mean, it's only reasonable that if we are to be held by the Crowned Prince of Pompous Language and Bloviating Oratory (which I can only assume is a very real, very important post in DPL) to some standard we should be compensated as such? Just kidding, that notion would be batshit insane!…err…that notion IS batshit insane, my apologies.

Basically, as a work of fiction, these blustery pieces of delight are glorious. If you try to apply it to the situation in any way, you'll find it more than a little nonsensical, so it's best just to treat it like any other fantasy novel written by a someone without much grasp of plot but a huge expensive thesaurus. A HUGE thesaurus. Seriously, epic. Damn, do I ever want to do a dramatic reading of this. That might be my next project!

Oh, and to the young lady in whose thread this so grossly exploded, I do wish to offer both my thanks for her opting not to attend for free and my sincere apologies for spanking the hands of a bunch of unruly children in her thread. In point of fact, only the lead part of that thread in any way actually even applies to her, the rest was mere fact correction and ethics lessons (a course that it seems an astonishing number of members of fandom might consider). To you, ma'am, I say “Have a great con”. To the rest…well…you know what you did, whether or not you admit it to yourself is your own ethical dilemma.

This just leaves the moral of the story, in the form of Things for Jer to Do:

Record or arrange for a dramatic reading of this mess.
Get I'm Ghosting this Con ribbons for Penguicon (thank you Joe for the amazing idea)
Commit heinous acts of violence, murder, and tyranny -CHECK
Go back to the business of putting on conventions for the sort of folks that call other people popinjays

¹ Ghosting: to attend the convention without paying for a badge for the convention. Typically, it doesn't apply to merely going to the same hotel as the convention, but to hanging out with the convention attendees in convention space without paying.

² My own inimitable way: I used naughty words like dick!

³ Godwin's Law: “As an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches 1.”

Resigned to Resign

jer_ — Fri, 18 Feb 2011 21:19:48 EST

I stepped down as head of Marketing for WorldCon 2012 (Chicon 7) today.

I'm not going to lie, it hurts…a lot. I have not been this excited to work on something in a while. Penguicon was the next closest, but this was going to be epic (to continue to abuse an already far-too-abused word). The plans we had and the buy-in from everyone involved was amazing and—it's just ridiculously hard to wash my hands of all of it. Add to my mixed emotions the fact that I am letting down individuals for whom I have (or in some cases, had) great professional respect, and it has been a rough decision making week for me. At the end of the day, though, I feel like I made the right decision. I did what had to be done.

I cannot really get into the “Why” of the matter…the vast majority of it is of a personal nature, and not my personal business, so I have to tread carefully. Suffice to say that the personal issues of a pair of the members of convention leadership are sufficiently out of control that the juggernaut that they have created has, in turn, created two implacable artifacts:

It was directly interfering with the ability of my chosen staff to do its job.

The person who was appointed my second was perfect for the job in a ridiculous way. She is task oriented, focused, organized, local to the Chicago scene, willing to pester me when I'm not hitting my deadlines, and totally immune to my less than polite manner of speaking. So spot on, was she, that I desperately need to find a way to get her in my employ in some other way. She was also completely (and personally) abhorrent to one of the vice chairs, and so, had to go (or, after a lengthy process involving far more grief than I have the stomach for in a professional endeavor, had to be hamstrung in such a way as to make her unable to do the job in any but the most superficial way). Personal conflict far outranked qualification or the con's needs, and here's where we end up.
It is creating an awkward environment in the con.

When I first was considering getting involved, I asked around and heard that perhaps this particular year was best given a miss…that it was a bit uncomfortable. In bringing on staff, I was told a time or two that this year was best avoided. Frankly, having seen it up close, I regret that I didn't pay heed. This is a balloon that is straining to pop. I suppose I should consider it something of a blessing that my edge of the explosion happened before I'd invested too terribly much time and energy, but it still stings to be caught in it.

The result of those artifacts is that I just cannot fathom continuing to funnel my limited time and energy into the con. I genuinely wish Chicon 7 well, and hope that the staff can put things together and throw a hell of a convention. There's a lot of exciting stuff going on there, and whether or not I'm working for the convention, I am really looking forward to it; I just can't be a part of it and I wince when I see the way it leans off the rails as it corners.

Capricon 31 Panels

jer_ — Thu, 13 Jan 2011 01:10:38 EST

So, here is where I'll be and what I'll be doing this year at Capricon 31 (February 11-13)…what do you mean you won't be there? Then you'll miss the parties I'm hosting, as well as chances to hear me prattle on endlessly in a few panels:

Freaking the Mundanes
Friday, 02-11-2011 - 1:00 pm to 2:30 pm	Botanic Garden A (Special Events)
Ok, raise your hand if you've deliberately freaked out a mundane. Yeah you, in the corner, raise your hand. Why do we do it? Should we do it? If we're going to do it, how can we do it well?
Lee Darrow, Laura Dombrowski, Jer Lance, Becky Thomson

The Companions of Dr. Who
Friday, 02-11-2011 - 8:30 pm to 10:00 pm	Elm
We invite you to cordially and civilly debate the merits of each of the Doctor's Companions and come to an agreement as to whom is best. Alternatively, a spirited argument complete with creative insults and invitations to duel could also be fun. Ready? Go!
Valli Hoski, Jer Lance, Kathryn Sullivan

Don't Forget Your Spacesuit, Dear!
Sunday, 02-13-2011 - 12:00 pm to 1:30 pm	Botanic Garden B (Special Events)
How to pack for a space flight - what would we really need on a long-term voyage?
Jer Lance, Bryan Palaszewski, Patricia Sayre McCoy, Kathryn Sullivan

So, what else should I be seeing? What are going to be the highlight panels? Are you going to be there? Sound off! Maybe you mentioning you'll be there will spur someone to attend that wouldn't otherwise!

Raise Your Ignorant Flag

jer_ — Wed, 08 Dec 2010 14:26:35 EST

I posted this, today, in a Facebook thread which had taken one of those uber-smarmy, hipster inspired turns down “let me impress you with how underground I am” lane…

I am perpetually amused by folks that cut off an entire segment of culture and genuinely believe that they are losing nothing. Worse still, they make their willful ignorance a point of pride. "I don't even own a TV and have not watched any television in a decade!" as if it were a praiseworthy event to deem an entire category of information as 'unworthy.'

Most television is crap, as is most radio, most art, most magazines, most books, and most inputs in general. If you cannot separate the wheat from the chaff, you are defective, not the media. When you decry an entire segment of culture, you announce to the world that you are too lazy, apathetic, and ignorant to do that separation.

(And as a member of the thinking world, I appreciate you putting up a flag to help us recognize you.)

The most common defense for this is that of time, and it is a disingenuous defense at best.

“But I only have a limited amount of time, why should I take it up with trashy pop culture?”

You shouldn't, but when you say “I don't have a TV because all TV is trash” you aren't making the potentially defensible claim that because you haven't found anything useful among its offerings you are choosing to spend you capital (in the form of money, time, etc) elsewhere; you are making the erroneous claim that the medium itself is inherently flawed and incapable of producing viable, substantive product, and therefore it can be ignored as a medium.

The thing is, the foolishness of this attitude would be painfully obvious were one to replace our favorite pop culture whipping boy, television, with more ‘high brow’ forms of entertainment. Try, instead, “I don't read books. I haven't purchased or looked at a book in a decade, because books are trash culture.“

Ouch.

So, I appreciate you announcing to the rest of the thinking world, in no uncertain terms, that you are willfully ignorant and consider it a point of pride. I, however, will happily continue judging the messages by their merits, not their mode of conveyance.

WindyCon 37

jer_ — Mon, 15 Nov 2010 19:23:49 EST

WindyCon in Chicago was interesting. In general, I had a really good time, but that time was mostly because I use Windy as a chance to get down to Chicago and see friends. From a convention perspective, my experience was somewhat mildly less positive. Actually, 90% of my concerns with the convention can be directly traced back to one thing, the convention's relationship with the hotel was managed like shit.

The Hotel

It began when several weeks ago, we attempted to arrange for a suite in which to throw a party on behalf of Michigan conventions. I reserved a room and tried to find out how to obtain a suite. This was harder than it seems because emails sent through the website received no response. Actually, no form of communication received a response until I bitched about it via Twitter/Facebook/Buzz. I can only assume that somebody with a few less followers might have just found themselves fucked. Of course, by the time their hotel liaison finally got around to contacting me (several weeks after I began the process) all the suites were gone, so he arranged for a room with a pair of queen beds.¹ Since it costs $150 dollars to remove a bed, we were told it would be more cost effective to move the bed ourselves (and you cannot imagine how close I was to moving it to someone's house for the weekend), so we opted to do just that.

When we arrived (at 4pm) we did not have a pair of queens but a single king. The front desk pointed out that they weren't allowed to change the reservation without the liaison's aid, but could not reach the liaison at all. After mucking about for a bit, I put on *my* liaison hat, spoke to a manager, found out that the problem was they were already oversold on queen rooms and were trying to solve this for me. I told them to put me in a king room and not to worry about it. They seemed relieved—the conversation that the folks at the front desk were having about the hotel liaison not-quite-quietly-enough more than made up for the modest inconvenience.

On Saturday, I spoke to the manager briefly because I wished to find out how one goes about obtaining a late checkout. As it turns out, such a thing wasn't accommodated by the con's contract, so the best she could do was ask me to call on Sunday, and if they weren't heavily booked for checkins, they would be happy to. Sunday, they were unable to do so—their booking numbers were middle-high.

Now, I try not to foist my opinions about event management off as fact too often, but in this case, it is a fact that the contract that WindyCon has with the Westin is either utter crap or is being managed like utter crap. Some specific thoughts:

Late checkout: There are mitigating circumstances (Capricon had trouble with late checkouts when Sunday fell on Valentine's Day, once), but generally, if your event ends after checkout, you have failed if late checkout is impossible.
Bed removal: Seriously, you couldn't talk to the hotel about $150 per bed? That's unfathomable.
For real, you don't block all of the two-bed rooms in a hotel that you aren't fully booking?
Room rates: Well, if you paid for a room, you already know. Ouch.

You see, the thing is, you can lose out in one of these areas—but to fail in every area is just sad. It means you have failed as a negotiator and a manager of the relationship. Even more appalling is to fail in Chicago; there are roughly eleventy-billion hotels that would make appropriate choices.

The Good (Everything Else)

The rest of the con went well. I did not attend much programming, but the little that I did went well. Ger tried to attend a panel that time-shifted from what was shown in the program book, but I don't think I've ever been to a con at which this didn't happen, and the signage on the doors was sufficiently accurate to overcome it entirely. The party scene felt weak Friday night, but from all appearances it was much better on Saturday (although I was in the Michigan Conventions room party all night, because we were slammed…such a great problem to have, eh?) In general, I had a great time at the con, and I thank everyone there for making it so. There was one particularly amusing moment for me, though:

Try Not to Steal from the Art Auction

Early on, Ger and I stopped into the art auction to see Dawn's art pieces and Ger was stopped to check in her purse, which was handled in the usual way: a playing card was clothes-pinned to her bag and an identical card was handed to Ger for retrieval. We made our way past when I was stopped:

“Sir,” I heard, “You have to check your book…”

After a bit of confusion, it became apparent that the book I was to check was the program book for the convention that rolled up in my back pocket. I laughed, crossed half the distance between where I was standing and bag check, and threw the program into the trash can.

For the rest of the weekend, we played our version of a poker run in which we would wander down, check in our program book, and keep the card that was given as part of my new deck.

I ended up with three of a kind 3s.

¹ Later on, I found out that the person who manages the hotel relationship is the same individual that was relatively unable to manage a room reservation last Penguicon, resulting in the need to jump through hoops in order to solve his problem, so I can't rule out the possibility that the poor handling was targeted as a fuck-you to me, but I cannot imagine that the entire shitty contract was.

I'm Hoping for “Wizard”

jer_ — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 13:18:11 EDT

So, I have spent most of the last year bald. Wicked bald. I enjoyed it, but, as will all things, I got bored—so I decided to grow my hair out. Wicked out.

Right about when I decided to do this, I also decided to appear in a drag show at Penguicon. Not one to do things half-assed, I committed, and shaved down thoroughly to play the role of Sharon McKandy (some might say, too thoroughly, but I digress), so that seemed like a good time to start my little experiment; exactly how long will my hair get in a year?

And that, basically, is the crux of it…I will not cut, trim, or shave any of the hair from my neck up* for one year starting on the 1st of May, 2010 with an entirely clean face and head (of which I forgot to take a picture, so you'll just have to trust me on that one), and ending the morning of the 1st of May, 2011.

* There are two and one-half exceptions to this…I will trim my nose hairs, I will shave just the neck part of my facial hair (as it becomes ingrown-hair central, and neck beards are gross, and soon it will be hidden). Also, I might trim my ear hair—not the hair around my ears, the hair from in my ears. Those are the only exceptions though.

So, you might ask, where does the wizard come in? Well, when first asked what I thought it would look like, I responded, “I'm hoping for ‘wizard’” with visions of that crazy, fuzzy, psychotic looking hair-beard combo that just screams “I play a wizard on TV!” From this, an idea was born. Once my hair gets a bit of length, I am going to start wearing conical hats adorned with stars and moons to represent my new role. In the beginning, these hats will be small—wicked small—to illustrate the novice status of my craft. I will begin to refer to myself by my wizarding name. I will be insufferable. It should be a good time. At that point, I'm just going to enjoy being a wizard and see what happens. If anything, it should make for some good stories.

So, that's basically all there is to it. Check back here for photos of my progress! (Photos are in reverse order so newest is up top. Click the photo to go to it full-sized, or click here for the album.)

Oh, and here's a link to an RSS feed of the photos!

	Week 42 Monday, February 14th, in the morning This is the last photo of hair growth! I have decided that as a Valentine's Day present for my beleaguered, long-suffering wife, I will surprise her by being the clean-shaven me after today. More on that in a new post.
	Week 41 Monday, February 7th, in the afternoon It is interesting, to me, how age has affected my hair. I had long hair about a decade ago, and it was soft and smooth and curled slightly at the ends. Now it is rough and thick and wavy (and completely unmanageable, as a result). That said, it does look pretty awesome in full wizard form!
	Week 40 Tuesday, February 1st, in the morning Whoops, grad school started and picture taking stopped, apparently. Three missed weeks, that's just terrible! As I glance at the picture queue, I can visibly see that my hair growth has slowed. This depresses me.
	Week 37 Monday, January 10, in the afternoon Only about 15 weeks left. In general, I barely notice the extra hair. It takes some extra grooming time in the morning, and I go through a lot more shampoo and conditioner, but in general, it has become normal to me. ConFusion is coming, though, and things are going to get hot and sweaty in the head-ular area during that time, I think.
	Week 35 Tuesday, December 28th, midday Merry Christmas. The holiday and travel season caused a skip week, as did my college graduation. At some point, I have to post—as a bonus, of course—the photo from my graduation ceremony. It is nothing but class. That my mother didn't pin me down and shave me prior to the event is a testament to her tolerance (or just to how much she has given up on having any normal children.)
	Week 33 Wednesday, December 15th, in the morning After a certain amount of time, say, for example, 33 weeks, it is genuinely difficult to find something pithy and interesting to say about a subject so pedestrian as ones immense thicket of bushy hair. Insert snark here.
	Week 32 Monday, December 6th, in the morning Lotsa hair. Lots of fucking hair. I am pretty sure that a significant portion of my diet is the tips of my mustache. I resemble a werewolf. I go to nice restaurants and I can literally see the trepidation as the host or hostess assesses whether or not I'm homeless before offering to seat me. It is, however, super warm.
	Week 31 Wednesday, December 1st, in the morning I found, due to a quirk in my numbering added to my utter inability to count, that I was off by like 4 weeks in my beard week count. This week marks the 31st week of beard growth…so I've surpassed the midpoint and I'm nearly the 35th week (which will be the 2/3 point). I wanted to get some half-way point numbers up here, but since I missed it, I'll wait until the next real measure point, 66% of the way through. (Although, I'm at 7.5cm beard and hair, 7.0cm mustache, informally).
	Week 30 Monday, November 22, in the morning Happy almost turkey day! I should go hunting, since I'm already warm and camouflaged behind my thicket of hair. I hate my mustache. Seriously, it is long, it annoys me when waxed, and when not waxed, it lives in my mouth and up my nose. I cannot wait to trim this thing. Yesterday, I had something with cheese on it. Later, I found some leftover cheese melted into the corner of my mustache. It was delicious; it tasted of shame and preservatives.
	Week 28 Wednesday, November 10, in the morning I have about half a mullet…there's a party in the back, but there's no business up front. It is party everywhere on my head. At this point I'm at the half way point and hating life. I need snow to fall soon to mitigate this massive hair coverage. That and I wish the hair on my head would get just a bit longer; right now it's at an unmanageable length where it won't stay anywhere.
	Week 27 Wednesday, November 3, in the morning Earlier this week I found that if I feather my hair, I look like Kenny Loggins from an alternate universe in which Mr. Loggins might have lost his beard trimmer. It feels like my hair has stopped growing entirely and that only my beard continues to progress. I feel like this should be my new photo mode: all hair combed straight down, beard combed straight forward to a “point” in front. That will give the most even view of my growth progress…of course, that's not nearly as much fun.
	Week 26 Tuesday, October 26, in the morning Rough, rough morning. The kind of rough that says I can't even focus a camera, open my right eye, or comb my hair in a way that represents normalcy even slightly. I imagine that if you cleaned up a bum and gave him a comb, this is roughly what you would get until the Mad Dog 20/20 and Thunderbird wore off.
	Week 25 Wednesday, October 20, in the morning I have kind of a to-the-side, Flock of Seagulls sort of thing going on here. I feel like I should put a highlight in the front and call it a crazy, crazy day.
	Week 24 Tuesday, October 12, in the morning Brushed, my lustrous mane of beard looks must less exciting than last week's unbrushed version. You do, however, get a better feel for its length. I'm slowly progressing from “sea captain” to “grandpa”…the last step before “wizard!”
	Week 23 Wednesday, October 6, in the morning. It occurs to me that I've been showing pictures from right after I get out of the shower and after I have combed my hair and beard. Today's pic is post-hair-combing but prior to the beard combing. I think it gives a more full picture of what the mess looks like relatively untamed.
	Week 21 Monday, September 20, in the morning. Earlier this week, I started a brief foray into the world of Lord of the Rings Online. I made a dwarf. This morning, I awoke to find facial hair that is oddly reminiscent of my dwarven alter ego. Couple that with the fact that my scalp-hair gets a very Wolverine-like curl at the top, and I have a hairstyle straight out of adolescent fantasy. Which is great, if your adolescent fantasy doesn't include employment, meetings, or “being taken seriously” by grown-ups. Thankfully, mine doesn't.
	Week 20 Monday, September 13, in the morning. It is becoming almost entirely impossible to reign in the beard. It is just a bird's nest of increasingly more out-of-control hair. This shot is immediately post-shower, and after a good, thorough brushing. I really need to include an end-of-day shot for one of these, because things get crazy as humidity, movement, and my natural frizz get a grip on my facial hair.
	Week 19 Tuesday, Sep 7th in the morning We are at the 18 week point; 1/3 of the way through. My hair is about two inches long, currently (which is a depressingly average 1/2 inch per month of growth)…but my beard is out of control with just over 2.5 inches of curly, thicketed growth. It is madness. My mustache, when pulled straight, hangs to my chin. When not straightened, it goes beyond my bottom lip. Eating is a messy disaster. At this pace, I envision a nice half-foot of thick, more-salt-than-pepper hair on my head, and a fantastically wizardly half-foot of beard hanging down my face. Oh, I also envision having trouble getting through airport security lanes.
	Week 18 Wednesday, Sep 1st in the morning Too hot to be witty. I'm just going to be sullen and miserable today. I am ready for you, winter. Please come quickly.
	Week 17 Monday, August 23rd in the morning Ooops, missed a week. The hair is finally obtaining that “there is no way in hell you are taming me for more than 5 minutes” quality that screams “Wizard.” Thankfully, this hasn't been the hottest summer in the world, because camping over the weekend with this rat's nest would have been unbearable. As it is, there was much mockery over the tendency my hair has to curl at the edges like an owl's head.
	Week 15 Tuesday, Aug 10th in the morning I have a calico beard. Seriously, it's hard to make out in the photo, but it is so many different colors: all designed to make the hair atop my head look all the more gray. I am a bit disappointed in the lack of white. Next up, I need to find or make sleeveless wizard robes to wear around.
	Week 14 Tuesday, Aug 3rd in the morning Now things are getting hot and heavy. There is enough hair that at temperatures exceeding 60 degrees Fahrenheit, my scalp and jaw-line develop sweat. I need a headband to keep the sweat from running into my face. I can constantly smell the last thing I ate or drank from the remains left in my mustache. This is un-fun at the moment. I assume it gets better. Side-note: no magical powers to speak of, yet.
	Week 13 Tuesday, Jul 27th in the morning When combed, it doesn't look terrible. When not combed (or, apparently, fresh out of the pool, it looks crazy. I need some pictures of me looking all crazy.
	Week 12 Tuesday, Jul 19th in the afternoon Oops, I missed a week while I was on vacation…but that's okay, because it makes this new “half-way through the transformation to werewolf” shot all the more impressive and shocking. Rawr! Sorry ladies, this isn't available! I still hate the mustache, though.
	Week 10 Monday, Jul 6th in the morning Seriously, the mustache hanging into my mouth is going to be the thing that breaks me…not the heat, not the frizziness, not the itchiness…no, it's going to be this bushy-assed mustache that pushes me over the edge.
	Week 9 Monday, Jun 28th in the morning Two full months. That is how long it will have been at week's end. At this point I have a barely-grippable-in-the-fist quantity of hair atop my head and beneath my chin. I have about an inch of overall growth. I expected more at this point. I was really banking on closer to an inch per month rather than a puny half inch (pshaw to averages). At this rate, my hair will be a mop rather than a wizardly mane at year's end. I wonder how much Rogaine costs…
	Week 8 Monday, Jun 21st in the morning I officially have a quantity of hair that can be referred to as "ridiculously hot"; hot as in "traps heat against my head" not as in "dead sexy" (although, c'mon, that is one sexy beard.
	Week 7 Monday, Jun 14th in the morning Now I'm just getting shaggy. My beard looks really nice and full, but at this stage my head looks mostly like a Q-Tip. I don't think this will feel like real progress until I have enough hair to comb, which seems like a long way away.
	Week 6 Monday, Jun 7th in the morning It is definitely coming along. I am excited by the prospect of doing a faux-hawk! I am unexcited about the fact that my moustache is already getting into my mouth a bit...I forgot about that side issue. I suspect that I have long weeks of annoyance ahead until my 'stache is long enough to wax out of the way.
	Week 5 Tuesday, Jun 1st in the morning To quote Lucy, whose wedding I attended on Sunday the 31st, "Thank god our wedding was at the start of your hair growth." It still looks fairly normal—in fact, it gives me a more normal appearance than I've had in a while. It was especially nice to sunburn my forehead on Saturday and not have my entire skull be a mass of peeling, painful, itching burn…but it is getting warm under this hair.
	Week 4 Monday, May 24th in the evening I almost forgot today's photo! As you can see, things are actually coming in…fuzzy. Very, very fuzzy. I am conditioning daily to try to keep things soft and shiny. Oh, and I am noticing that there is a TON more salt mixed in with the pepper than I recall. That's okay, the white will just add to the ‘wizard’ effect!!
	Week 3 Monday, May 17th in the morning Wow, one week and the beard is almost beard-like already. It still doesn't cover Pyle (my name for the bonus chin), but it is working on it. For bonus points, you get to peek at the shaven chest and arms a bit here. Oh how I take care of you guys.
	Week 2 Tuesday, May 11th in the morning Where the hell did this extra chin come from. Seriously, when I started growing a goatee, I don't recall it being there. You are seriously unwelcome, extra chin flap!

So, We Have This Tea...

jer_ — Fri, 22 Oct 2010 11:39:05 EDT

A friend posted about immigrant integration in our country, agreeing with a particularly odious message from author Elizabeth Moon. My (lightly edited) response was:

We are a country entirely made up of individuals that did not integrate. We are an entire nation of not-fully-integrated foreigners. Ignore, for a moment, the fact that we're not members of a native tribe speaking Iroquois or Mohawk. Concentrate, instead, on the laughable nature of integration as you enjoy your won-ton soup, spaghetti with meatballs, taco bell, corned beef and cabbage, schnitzel, salted licorice, escargot, sushi, or pretty much any food that doesn't involve red beans and rice.

Consider the unsettling notion that we are, culturally, mutts. What makes us pretty fucking awesome is that we, culturally, are an amalgam of whoever shows up and brings something new combined with all of the new from the people who showed up before. We keep what we like, we discard the rest.

Oh, but make no mistake, this doesn't happen instantly. It takes time. It takes dedication by those individuals who can keep fixed in their minds what the entire purpose of this country happens to be; the notion on which this nation is predicated. A notion of immigration without the need to assimilate.

So, when in America, do as Americans do; which, at our best, is accept that others are different and embrace that difference for all of the flavor that it adds to our culture…and at our worst is crush everything that is different based on sexual preference, skin color, language, religious beliefs, etc.

On a final note: one of the points of "integration" that Elizabeth Moon calls for is at its core a religious one. She says:

Not only were the attackers Islamic--and not only did the Islamic world in general show indecent glee about the attack, but this was only the last of many attacks on citizens and installations of this country which Islamic groups proudly claimed credit for.

So the thing they are supposed to shut up and integrate? Their religion. Join one of the "American" religions, I suppose (and possibly become less brown) and one can be "integrated" enough for Moon to consider them citizens.

I cannot say no fast enough or hard enough.

Please, do me one favor. Put yourself in the place of an American—a second generation Iranian, Muslim immigrant—English is your first language, you grew up with the same television, the same culture, the same concepts of what it means to be American…but you are Muslim and eat food traditional to your culture most nights in your home. Adopt that role, and re-read Moon's post.

Moon's post, for those who might wish to participate in this exercise, is here.

To expand on this thought, a little (and please recognize that the remainder of this missive is not, in fact, directed in any way to the original poster as the above message was, but instead expanding in Jer-rant fashion to related things that piss me off); I find the current social climate of the world profoundly uncomfortable. I am not easy to make feel awkward, but we live in an awkward time. We have been a nation sufficiently long that we have forgotten our roots entirely; not because our roots are so far in the past, but because we are a culture that reinvents itself with such rapidity that it is virtually impossible for the things that are important to those members of two generations past to impress those currently carrying the weight of civilization. So it manages to be entirely unsurprising that people whose ancestry got here by way of a "W.O.P." stamp on their paperwork don't have the institutional memory put themselves in the place of today's immigrant. Those whose genealogical forbearers were called 'micks' and imprisoned for even minor offenses have, of course, forgotten what it is like to be the new kid on the block; without even brown skin or a foreign language to sour the deal—merely an oft impenetrable accent. Now, generations later, they call for immediate integration (presumably from a cell phone as they drive past Chinatown or Little Italy.) Awkward.

More awkward still is the perversion of actual historical fact that allows some members of our culture to revise history in favor of a version that includes a foundation in Christianity or good Christian values despite the blatantly apparent, grade-school obvious fact that our forefathers—our immigrant patient-zeros—were fleeing persecution that would dictate their religious choice. No, our roots are not found in Christianity, but in common sense and decency (something in which Tea Party participants lack a basic understanding.)

So consider the sophistry of Moon cautioning the Muslim and Arab worlds (which she continually, and in racist fashion, conflates as being one and the same) about the degree of "forbearance" they have been shown, as if a mother cautioning her child about her waning tolerance. Tolerance, if any were to be sought, should be asked of the immigrants (whether they be of middle-eastern descent or by way of Mexico) for our manifold and continual transgressions against them which fly in the face of our promise to the world—a promise to take in the outcast and the downtrodden and make them our own…as is…the way we are. You know, like it says on the Statue of Liberty. You know, like how we got here.

So, I'd like to close with this: my tolerance for each of you racists, bigots, and petulant children has reached its end. Your xenophobia, your pseudo-Christian hate, it is no longer welcome. If you feel we should close our borders, you should feel free to leave and consider the borders closed behind you—this country's basis is one with which you clearly are not on board. If you use phrases like "the Islamification of America" or "*real* Americans", you are no longer necessary—you have missed the point. If you think there should be a national language (and can't for the life of you figure out why there isn't one already in our 200-plus year history) then it is time for you to find a place where there is a national language and go there. I have never been one to suffer a fool silently, and I'm going to be taking that to a new level. If you convey your ignorance, hatred, and anti-American sentiment (and make no goddamned mistake, there is nothing more anti-American—more un-patriotic—than isolationist xenophobia), then I will be happy to convey unto you exactly how ignorant you are.

Oh, and stop misuing “patriot” to mean hateful, bigoted douchebag…that's not what it means. Jingoism and patriotism are not, in fact, the same thing.

Signed,

Go Fuck Yourself, Tea Party

Conclave 2010 Report

jer_ — Wed, 13 Oct 2010 18:03:33 EDT

After last year's convention, and my subsquent vow not to finance a con with such aggressive “security,” I had quite the internal struggle with what was the right thing to do this year. On the one hand, I felt as though I—personally—would be entirely okay with throwing a ~~party~~ membership meeting in a suite for ConFusion and not purchasing a membership. I did not feel that it was acceptable for the ConFusion organization to do the same, though, so I relaxed my outrage enough to allow ConFusion to purchase a membership so that it could throw a party. So, like I do, here is my report of the convention.

The Dorsai Irregulars

As it turns out, most of my problems with last year had been addressed in a big way. After last year's post, I was contacted rather a lot about the Dorsai Irregulars' shenanigans. Many of those were con-goers that shared their stories of ill treatment or frustration; many others were representatives of the DI or convention concom that wished to get more details and ask permission to pass my words on to various members of the senior membership and board for action. Oh, and certainly there were a few that were passing on their version of how much I should go fuck myself, but that comes with the territory.

This year, the Dorsai's presence was completely different. Gone were the army of black polo shirts giving way, instead, to the same shirts in a variety of colors—all still bearing the name of the organization on the breast. This deftly avoided the “us-vs-them” uniform problem of years past; they remained just as visible, but seemed less a pack of ne'er-do-wells. It seems a small thing, but it made a huge difference, especially in thin crowds where last year it seemed like every third person was a DI, this year they blended slightly. Add to that the fact that few members wore their trademark insignia-laden beanies on their heads—most opted to tuck them into the front of their belts—and suddenly, the pseudo-militaristic crew of “jack-booted thugs” was gone. Just folks enlisted by the convention to help it run smoothly. Most importantly, I saw almost no occurances of members clumping up and creating chokepoints, laying hands on patrons, or acting in the superior and aloof manner I had come to expect. In fact, with the exception of one person working the art room with a bit too much vigor, everyone acted admirably. Even the individual that came to the ConFusion ~~party~~ meeting with news of noise complaints was pleasant and friendly, even in the face of some good natured ribbing.

I have to give credit where credit is due: well done, DI. I don't think I've seen a turnaround like that since…well, Judas, 30ish AD.

The Programming

I don't go here for programming, so the only thing I saw was the Space Time Improv, which had its highs and lows (I'll never grasp why this group lets a bit go on so long without a single laugh, but will squash a bit that is clearly amusing the audience, but it is a recurring theme) but generally was a hit. I heard there were other panels. I heard that some were entertaining. I couldn't speak to that, other than to say I didn't really see anything up my alley.

The Elephant in the Room

My alternate title for this section was Hey, Where are all of the People? but that seemed more snarky that necessary (but not too snarky to mention one sentence into the section, mind you.) I don't know what past years' attendances looked like, but their Wikipedia entry shows them as a 600+ person convention, and I'd be shocked if there were 350 badges issued this weekend. If you assume a normal amount of comps (and I would wager I'm low by a lot here) then something less than 315 folks paid for their ticket. (This quickly started a joke on Twitter in which we pointed out how good low membership was in snark.) Everywhere I turned online, I saw people indicating that they felt their $50 would be best spent elsewhere. The talk of the con was, necessarily, how much longer it will go on before it either turns around or disappears.

Of course, everyone had their piece to say about what would repair the convention: bring in fresh blood in leadership roles, different GoHs, new programming, any advertising whatsoever, or other ways both myriad and diverse. Not to be outdone, I will give you my opinion. I feel that there is one pair of things that would be minimally invasive to how they do business, cost effective, and relatively simple…it involves creating nightlife.

Badger the hotel into allowing some non-ground-floor parties, especially those in suites
Subsidize those suites to make them cost effective for parties (something sub $200, even if not by much)

Even if only two or three additional suites are picked up, and rooms near to those suites on those floors, parties could take hold—and the social event of early October could really be a social event.

Let's face it, ConFusion's marginally funded (over 80% of the expense of the event was in the cost of the room) ~~party~~ meeting was consistently packed, a hub of convention activity for much of both evenings, and the recipient of the “Best Party” prize, and we didn't even do anything. We brought some pretzles, some chocolate, some energy drinks, damned little booze (I think it was gone in less than two hours), and a handful of entertaining people (a number in which I'll humbly include myself, along with Amy, Limey, Ger, Dawn, Greg, and Matt…with late additions Bill and Misha), and we were all that was happening. If there were a few more such parties, people would be eager to come down for the party (and many of those would purchase memberships).

Sure, there are probably other fixes; being in almost any other hotel in the state would probably be something of an attendance boost in and of itself, but simply adding something cost efficient and labor simple would make a tremendous difference.

…otherwise, a bunch of us are already planning what new and interesting thing we can do in early October when a hole opens up.

Good Things About Conclave

jer_ — Wed, 13 Oct 2010 17:27:03 EDT

While at Conclave, Dawn and Greg of Dawn & Greg's Naked Comedy Show launched a Twitter hashtag #goodthingsaboutconclave with a backhanded compliment which inspired a series of snarky, funny, and hyperbolically true tweets. It should be said, the request has been made numerous times since this to make it a recurring bit at events…but I don't know how we're going to top some of these:

nemorathwald I just heard there was still Diet Mt. Dew in the consuite! #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_ I shit you not, cookie monster just showed up...this is like the Pele of room meeting http://twitpic.com/2w8z69 #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_ The @ConFusionMI room meeting just won "Best Party"...best 1 of 0? #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_ This hash tag will cause no problems in fandom, because nobody at Conclave knows how to use Twitter #goodthingsaboutconclave

NakedComedy Plenty of available gay men.#goodthingsaboutconclave

nadams5755 @jer_ MY CON IS WORSE THAN YOUR CON! #goodthingsaboutconclave

NakedComedy Bill Higgins is able to spend an hour of personal time with each attendee. #goodthingsaboutconclave

NakedComedy @jer_ sparkles in the sunlight #goodthingsaboutconclave

NakedComedy Pervasive hotel odor makes it easy to stick to your diet.#goodthingsaboutconclave

NakedComedy 2 coney islands and 1 liquor store every 1/4 mile #goodthingsaboutconclave

PureEvil_Lyn Personal wake calls at 400 am from @jer_ #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_ 75% of the con attendance is on Rascal scooters and Hover-rounds...that is 4 people by my count. #goodthingsaboutconclave

EnigmaNo2 Jer. Ger. Dawn. Greg. Sheryl. Randy. #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_ With absolutely nothing else going on in the evening, there's no reason not to visit @ConFusionMI in room 724! #goodthingsaboutconclave

atdt1991 At an improv show where the audience gave gold and got back ... something #goodthingsaboutconclave

Limeyone885 It brings community together like no other con. Bill Putt and @jer_agree on something. #goodthingsaboutconclave

Limeyone885 Never a problem parking the lot is half full #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_ If you smell a fart, and it wasn't you, it was definitely the other attendee! #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_ Due to a rumor that they decided to add comedy this year, every single attendee is here to see Space Time Improv #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_ You can always feel safe, because there's one Dorsai Irregular to provide security per attendee. #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_ The reg staff didn't have to switch typography to accommodate a 4th digit on badge numbers, they barely need three! #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_ Seriously, everyone reading this that is at Conclave, I have a mission for you. Vote Greg Williams for fan GoH! #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_ It's easy to find a seat at both panels #goodthingsaboutconclave

NakedComedy You'll pass out from the heat before the smell of ass overwhelms you #goodthingsaboutconclave

Jer_'s Summer World Tour

jer_ — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 18:56:14 EDT

As the heavy part of my summer schedule winds down, it is time that I turn my eye to the relaxing and enjoyment part of the season; or Jer_'s World Tour (now with 99% less world, more like Jer_'s Very Local Tour). Here is where I will be this summer, and by extension, where YOU should be this summer.

July

MPCon
- July 9 - 11
- Eastern Michigan University Student Center, Ypsilanti, MI
Michigan's largest LAN party is preparing to tear it up for the 25th time with a 350 person LAN with tons of tournaments, prizes, giveaways, exciting sponsors, and a LOT going on. I'm not much of a gamer, and I love this event anyways. This year, ConFusion is sponsoring one of the tournaments, Penguicon is bringing back Liquid Nitrogen Ice Cream, and we are planning on bringing an extensive gaming library for some table-top gaming too, so even if you're not into PC gaming, come out and play some Puerto Rico, Dominion, MTG, or whatever else you're into with us!
- Price: $27 in advance/$30 at the door (price includes the whole weekend, and pizza dinner on Saturday)
- More info: mpcon.org or email info *at* mpcon -dot- org

Stilyagi Picnic
- July 17th, noon-5pm
- Veteran's Park, Ann Arbor, MI
I know we all hung out in January, but we miss you already! Come hang out with fellow fannish-type-folk and consume food from the grill, drink beers (there's rumor of a keg of Woodchuck making an appearance), and visit. Also, vote on some AASFA/Stilyagi business and maybe even attend the ConFusion ConCom meeting to be held on-site!.
- Price: Free. And yes, you're invited!
- More info: Email me.

Maker Faire: Detroit
- July 31 10am-8pm & Aug 1 10am-5pm
- The Henry Ford, Dearborn, MI
I bet you didn't know Detroit even had a maker community, did you? What's a maker? WHY ARE YOU EVEN READING MY BLOG!?! Detroit has a huge community of hardware hackers and freaks like i3 Detroit that work on cool, do-it-yourself projects (click the link to see a nerf automated sentry gun and other cool hacks), arduino-driven carnival games (the skee ball game was a blast), and other things that you probably didn't even know you could do yourself.

Maker Faires put a bunch of them together in one place, and let you interact, play, learn, and explore. If you have a child and you don't bring him or her…well, I'm pretty sure that is child abuse in this state (don't quote me on that, I could be wrong). Penguicon will be bringing LN2 Ice Cream and (time allowing) some fun LN2 hacks. AASFA has financed the moving of a motion-capture display for the weekend. Other fun things include Beatfly (a glowing, arduino-based blimp), perfboard prototyping demos, learn-how-to-solder sessions, rep-rap machines, and tons more. To quote Make Online:
Void your warranty, violate a user agreement, fry a circuit, blow a fuse, poke an eye out. Make: The risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things...
I am excited about this in a way that I haven't been excited about an event in a long time.
- Price:
  - One-Day…Adult: $25 ($28 after Jul 15), Child 5-12: $16 ($19 after July 15)
  - Weekend…Adult: $44 ($50 after Jul 15), Child 5-12: $29 ($35 after July 15)
- More info: http://makerfaire.com/detroit/2010/

August

ConStruct
- August 13 - 15
- Radisson Hotel, Livonia, MI
We are back for year two. Join 50 - 75 of your closes friends in hanging out for the weekend. Most of us spend considerable time all year throwing these events, then when the event comes, we're so busy we don't have time to hang out with our friends. ConStruct is the con where we open the doors and let you do with the space what you will. Last year included puppet making demos, concerts, game playing, lots of swimming, crafting, a dance, a newly invented drink, a newly invented game. We are bringing back most of those things and hopefully you will add more!
- Price: $35 including full hospitality suite access (meals!) Rooms at $70/night
- More info: constructacon.org

All Summer Long

ConStruct ~~Wednesday~~ Gatherings
- Most Thursdays in July and August
- Various homes, typically in Livonia, MI
If you haven't gotten a sense of the theme of most of the events we organize yet, it is pretty simple: we really like hanging out with all of you. We go out of our way to find excuses to hang out. Last summer, it was in the form of a weekly gathering termed—at various times—“Woo-hoo Wednesdays”, “Wednesdays at the Castle”, “Wednesday Gatherings“, and “That Wednesday thing at Randy and Sheryl's place”. No matter what you called it, it was a collection of anywhere from 10 to 30 people who didn't want to wait until the weekend to see each other sharing food, games, stories, fun, and a not-insignificant amount of Rock Band.

This year's incarnation is held, for varying reasons, on Thursdays…which has in no way caused us to change the name, merely the calendar settings. So our Wednesday Gatherings happen to take place on Thursdays, often at the Castle Bradaki, although there has been talk about having some weekends take place at other homes. Crazy talk, I know.
- Price: Free. Bring a dish to pass if you can.
- More info: Check out constructacon.org/blog.php or our Twitter (ConStructACon for location, food theme, and other pertinent details.

No doubt, there's a lot missing…and I'm sure to add more to this as time goes on. So what am I missing? What should I be attending that I haven't listed? Where are YOU going to be this summer, and how can we make some time to get together?

Penguicon 2010 Postmortem

jer_ — Tue, 11 May 2010 09:12:39 EDT

Each year that I've attended Penguicon, I have made an attempt to write two separate postmortem reports—one as an attendee and the other as a conrunner. It has become painfully apparent that I am incapable, however, of thinking of events in any manner other than that of one who helps make them happen, so I am going to try to address the convention in total as a person who both helped create and enjoyed participating in the event with a list of moments that were notable to me.

Let me begin by saying that I had a ball. Doing the hotel management is rather time consuming (made more so by those who cannot follow simple instructions), so I generally have very limited time to actually enjoy myself. This year was a different story, though. To begin with, the hotel staff was amazing in ways that I cannot begin to describe. The hoops they jumped through for us were amazing, and their friendliness throughout the hoop jumping cranked even that level of amazing up a few levels. Add to that the fact that one Trevor Jagoda managed to wear both the hats of “guy who put together the programming for the con” and “guy who helped make sure the hotel stuff went well” brilliantly (and has since been given the shiny, pink hard-hat of 2012 ConChair), and you have the equation for a pretty great time in Jer-ville.

Setup

Ate lunch with @CountDiscord today. It was an ominous lunch. It felt so ominous the lunch was nearly ruined. #pcon
-@atdt1991

Thursday at Penguicon is really one of the highlight points of the whole weekend. A bunch of my friends inevitably come in early, and so we all get—for one shining moment—time to relax and enjoy each other's company before one thousand people converge on the place and the show has to be propped up. So I set up my office in the lobby and helped friends hold the bar safe until John Scalzi's arrival.

Ultimately, the pre-party was entirely too crowded for my enjoyment, so a group of us adjourned to my room, gossiped, joked, and largely felt superior for a while before going to bed far too late in the evening (worth it!)

Double-fisting the communication!
Photo courtesy of fhtagn

Per usual, Friday of con is a litany of wind-sprints around the hotel rooms being set up, calls from Operations, and swapping guest rooms around frantically. This year was no exception, but the frenetic energy was somewhat lessened; things were coming together rather well for once. Let me say that again: Things were going smoothly! We had a couple of bumps (the on-site Operations head deciding that Ops will open at 3 or some of the room setups not being done on time, as examples), but as I wandered about, things were just done…and correctly. At one point, I pulled up short because there was a line for registration that extended all the way down past Operations. I expressed my concern to some folks nearby and was told that it seemed to be going quickly, so I did an experiment…I chose a person that was just joining the line down near the entrance to the building nearest the ballrooms and marked the time, then I noted the time when she got out of line having registered. 17 minutes! Amazing. I made note though, that people would no doubt be whining about it later (and I was not disappointed).

The network went live without issues very nearly on time, the consuite opened in the ballpark of on time, and in general, all was well. As Hannibal used to say, “I love it when a plan comes together.”

Panels

And to think I used to come to conventions for the panels… #pcon
-@JimCHines

So, one of my goals going into this con was to be on a relatively minimal number of panels…as it turns out, that didn't happen, per se. Instead, I ended up participating in quite a few.

Trevor showing off his new helm of protection!
Photo courtesy of fhtagn

“How to Con Without the Creepy” went, in my opinion, fantastically. We got a lot of information out there, had a lot of fun, and laid some groundwork. I think it was a pretty good launch of the ASC!! project, but time will tell.

My two favorite moments at “Opening Ceremonies” include Trevor's prophetic 2012 ConChair Helm of Noggin' Protection and Count Discord's inability to make his escape by pulling the push door.

Count Discord failing entirely to pull open a push door!
Photo courtesy of fhtagn

The “Whatever Popped Into Our Heads” turned into a panel on shaving people's heads for charity…but that's what popped into our heads, and can you think of a better use of our time? This also helped to spur ideas for some charitable acts we'd like to perform in the next 12 months, so look for more information on that!

The “Flirting for Geeks” panel was a bit of decent information mixed in with a lot of joking around. As I've said for a couple of years now, maybe next year will be the year we spend some time preparing so as to provide a more unified message. Or a coherent one. Or even on topic…well, no, just the unified message part, I guess.

While I would have adjusted the timing, I would not have missed judging the “Rock Band Rock Off” with Sheryl, Gini, and The Ferrett (and sometimes Randy too) for the world. Several of the bands came out to play, but at the end of the day, we had to award the grand prize to a band that showed technical proficiency over the bands that made us laugh our asses off.

From there I raced to get ready for the “Drag Show.” Let me say this…if you are planning on shaving your exceptionally hairy form, use clippers first. The massive quantity of hair that I left behind in the hotel bathtub was such that even I felt pretty bad about the whole mess. A bit. Sort of. An hour of scraping hair (and, in some cases, flesh) from my body resulted in a passably smooth set of appendages…leaving me about a half hour to wedge myself into a dress and makeup and up onto some perilously high heels. Thank you so much to Rachel and my lovely wife for dolling me up, as it were.

“Necessity is the Mother of Invention” went fairly miserably, with an audience of, perhaps, 5 or 6 people. It is something that I really wish we could get moving, and I can't help feeling as though it was simply a failure of marketing, not a failure of concept…but it is a bit disheartening.

The “Closing Ceremonies/Feedback Session” went as smoothly as an I've seen in a while. Some great points were made, some less rational, some specious, but it was time well spent and it definitely kicked off some great thoughts.

Postmortem

The number of pregnant women I've seen here already at #pcon is rather staggering when you account for the nerd quotient. -@AlexDeGruven

It was a fantastic con. Hanging out at the dead dog party that followed, it was nice to hear people sharing stories of the fun they had during the weekend. This last week, I have been delighted to read blog posts and Twitter logs from people who had a great enough time that they just had to share it. It feels fantastic to help put on a show from which so many folks derive so much joy. Months of stress and work paid off. I didn't get to spend nearly as much time socializing with people I was really hoping to hang out with (Zonker and Randy, among others) much to my dismay, but that is an ongoing complaint I have about this particular convention…and part of the reason we started a new on in August at which we can relax and enjoy the company of awesome people.

In all, though, I call it a win! Fun was had by all, and that's what matters to both the conrunner and attendee in me.

Volunteer Masochism

jer_ — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 20:40:06 EDT

The other day, I got involved in a bit of a mailing list flame war related to the folks that work for and put on a local convention (I might have mentioned it before...Penguicon?) As a result of someone taking (for the umpteenth time) pot shots at the quality of the job being done by the staff, I fired off some snark. I was responded to in private, but my reply…well, my reply I felt I had to share. I am including only the first sentence of the originating email, because it is the only part to which I responded. So this is my message to anybody who finds it acceptable to abuse those who give of themselves for free.

Dude, I think you've maybe taken things too seriously.

Let us play pretend. Close your eyes and allow a vision to take hold... let us pretend that a group of people are donating—at varying degrees of personal expense—their time, energy, cash, and personal property in a labor of love to create something. Picture the group of people who would be into that sort of thing.

Picturing it? What a handsome, idealistic group, eh?

Now carry it further. Pretend that this effort, this time-energy-cash suck as it were, goes largely unappreciated. Nobody recognizes the work that goes in, so nobody provides praise, accolades, or awards. There's no pay, no medal, no recognition of any sort. So now, the potential pool of talent has been weeded down from those who would do it for only a modest amount of public recognition to those who can work absent that.

Did your mental picture get trimmed a bit? Did several people disappear? Perhaps a sizable percentage? It should have, but wait, we're not done.

Now, let us not just fail to recognize the hard work...let us actively shit on them. Let us tell them, repeatedly, that the efforts they are putting together are shit. They are doing a shit job. They are unresponsive, bad at their function, and are otherwise performing like shit. Imagine the way that the potential pool of talent gets winnowed down from only those who are willing to work, tirelessly and unrecognized, to those who are willing to work tirelessly while actively being disparaged.

In your mental image, are people fleeing the scene? Is there madness and chaos as people are trampling others to get free from this trainwreck we have created? Does the scene degenerate into utter lunacy as people panic in the face of the frenetic outbound flood of people that lie before them as they attempt an escape? Oh, we're not done though...

No, now those precious few individuals we have left don't just get told that they suck, that they are pieces of shit, and that they are doing poorly...WE...DO...IT...PUBLICLY. That's right, we go straight to a public forum full of their friends, associates, and cohorts and we publicly chastise them for the shit that they are foisting off on us—say, for example, on a mailing list that they frequent. How fucking DARE they provide (for less than the cost of creating such a spectacle) anything short of professional perfection, we tell them. For $25, or $35, or $50—a sum that none of these volunteers see a dime of—how dare they give us less than a professional conference financed by a mega corporation?

In your mental image, do you see a tiny handful of people—broken spirited, exhausted, wiped out, and trying to continue to make this event happen?

Because, sir, that is the reality of the situation. You have a collection of people busting their asses year after year to create this show. They sweat, and bleed, and work when they're sick; and they make it happen. Every year, we get a new collection of people who are willing to throw in that effort…and every year people like you shit them right back out of the organization…

…and here's the rub, you don't even recognize you are doing it. When it is pointed out you say “whoah, I think you're taking my comments too seriously” or “hey, I am just pointing out the truthful fact that some responses are slow or nonexistent” to which I have one simple response: That is bullshit so thin as to be entirely transparent.

The truth does not mitigate the dickishness that is conveyed by many of your posts. The fact that you didn't mean to disparage the job that this team is doing is entirely moot; the drunk driver doesn't mean to run over the pedestrian, but that makes said pedestrian no less a casualty. Whether your words were meant to castigate the staff or merely did so through blithe lack of ability with language, they achieved the same effect.

You mention later in this missive how one of the tasks that you and your group handled last year was one that none of you would touch again for years to come, because you felt as though you “survived” the day and that it took a lot of the fun out of the con for you. Recognize that the shit you received for grossly mishandling that segment of the event was a mere patch on the sea of shit the entire concom receives about everything that happens throughout a given year; only we don't get the option to place tail between legs and disappear for a few years. If the people you are shitting on this year all disappear, there is no event next year. It dies, or exists as a mere phantom of itself.

It won't die, mind you, because we are irreplaceable (well, except me, but I'm pretty awesome). No, it dies because this history of people taking shots at the efforts of the people who put in their time and effort have created a dearth of talent. My plan, for two years now, has been to take a much needed (and frankly, well deserved) break. I can't, though, if I want this place to be here when I'm done relaxing. There is nobody waiting in the wings to take over. I'm not unique. Most major positions do not have an assistant because nobody wants to work without recognition, let alone get shit on. When I approach people who have been useful in the past, they tell me why they left and why they're unlikely to come back: why would one go where they are abused? Why do for unappreciative, complaining, dicks? Better to pay your $50 and not have to hear it.

So, no, I'm not taking a goddamned thing too seriously. The fact that I—several days deep in “way-too-fucking-sick-to-be-working-on-this” swamp—spent most of the day working with another person who comparably sick making sure your convention happens while you piss on the whole staff with your warnings about how unresponsive we are means that I am entitled to be pissed by your presumption.

Short story long (like I do), if you want a professionally run event, go fucking pay for one. If you want to attend Penguicon, learn to accept the best efforts of a team of (largely) amateurs who are creating this from their spare time and desire to make this happen.

I'm not even bothering to address the rest of the message, because it is semantically null; you defending what is, at its core, a dick move. So, you'll either recognize the elements of truth in what I have to say and make changes, or you'll decide I'm being my traditionally asshole self and blow it off. It makes no difference to me, I have ridiculously thick skin and I know that I am awesome at what I do…but recognize that shit like this doesn't get a free pass from me any more. From now on, every single time you, or anyone else, decides they can take shots at the efforts of better folks, I will hasten to take my shots back; and I am reasonably good at that, too.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to shoddily running this convention you are all looking forward to seeing at month's end.

Exhaustedly,

-Jer

It bears mentioning that the individual in question replied by way of doing the oh-so-clever public email about how grateful he is for all of the hard work I do and how he's sorry if he hurt my little feelings. Fortunately, I didn't feel the urge to get to snarky back…I mean, I did predict that he would be the sort to throw that sort of reaction. Sometimes, you get what you expect.

“New Moon” in 73 Tweets

jer_ — Sat, 03 Apr 2010 13:04:54 EDT

After having snarked my way through the entire first movie, “Twilight”, with just my wife to share my pain, I decided to share a bit more…expansively?…with the Intarwebs. Randy, Sheryl, Ger and I set up camp at the Castle and plodded our way through the flick while I live tweeted my snark. The result is what is found below posted—in order—with time stamps based on movie-start (so that, if you happened to be a masochist, you could follow along).

Oh, my mini review? It sucked. It sucked only marginally less than did the first movie, which is like saying the Spanish Inquisition sucked less than the Crusades, because of the classy red hats (clearly, my knowledge of history is plucked straight from Monty Python, so please don't confuse me with corrections.) This movie sucked in a way that only another movie that closely adheres to a book that sucks could suck. It sucks in epic, painful, and entirely unfunny ways. Even a sucky B-movie I could watch again with friends to mock…I am unlikely to ever give this movie such treatment. It is more than it deserves. It is decidedly not good. I give it 13 thumbs down. Even if it were reshot with Kristen Stewart nude throughout, it would not be watchable.

Okay, the last bit is uncalled for…I would totally watch that. I love your Kristen Stewart, you and your emotionless face. I forgive you.

Anyway…without further ado, let's get to the tweets:

-018m — "New Moon" live tweeting starts in about 5 minutes...if you are worried about the spam, I'd unfollow me for about the next 2 hours...
-016m — Oh look, Edward Cullins is in another movie...but in this one, he's going to play a morose cool guy with just-woke-up hair.
-015m — I realize that the actor 's actual name is Robert Pattinson, but if he's gonna keep reusing the same character, I'm gonna reuse the name...
-011m — Twilight fans...you can gauge what the studios think of you by the previews before your flick. The studios clearly think you're retarded.
-010m — I still want to touch Vanessa Hudgens inappropriately. BandSlam for the win.
-006m — @BaDawnKDonk John Malkovich is "John Malkovich", since he just plays himself in every movie. I don't think he's even aware he's on set.
-003m — Now that I've found out that Forks is a real place, I want to go there and punch every single one of them in the face. They should suffer.
000m — THE MOVIE BEGINS (This isn't a tweet, just a note of interest)
001m — I shall, at least, enjoy Bella's tits. She's 18 right? Oh god, I hope she's 18.
002m — Get it? Gollum over there is future-you, Bella. Sparkly Vampire, my precious.
003m — Bella came dangerously close to a second expression there. I have high hopes she can pull it off this movie!
004m — Oh good, Edward Cullen is one of those fucks that parks across multiple spots...like I didn't hate him already...
006m — Hey Jake...nice mullet! Most..obvious...wig...evar! Dream catcher, pale faces, vague native American racism at its finest!
008m — Blue Steel is back!!!!! I adore Jasper's only look. Wait, I'm sensing a theme...and it's not "acting"
012m — I have a drinking game for you...drink once for every 50 times Edward blinks. You will all die during the Romeo and Juliet scene...
012m — "Vampires have laws?"..."Only one: Be FAAAAABULOUS"
014m — New Moon: Budget for actors = 20%...budget for gold contacts = 80% Great choice.
016m — As pointed out by @RandyTheRandom points out...any drinking game for New Moon ends in his death. Any good one at least.
018m — I wonder how much it saved to entirely recycle the "Blue Steel tries to drink Bella's blood" scene from Twilight? A lot I bet...
019m — "You can't protect me from everything"...Hon, he can't even protect you from him throwing you through glass for funsies.
020m — Dude, I've seen gay guys kiss women with less pained an expression than Pattinson just adopted. Way to put those rumors to rest.
023m — As morose as this movie is so far, it is important to realize that we haven't even hit "depressed Bella" yet. Time for the cutting to start.
024m — "I don't WANT you to come"...you cannot imagine how often I have thought that, but I've never had the balls to say it out loud. Sorry Ger!
026m — "Promise me something, don't do anything reckless"...you know, like DATING A FUCKING VAMPIRE!
028m — Judging by her current facial expression, Edward leaving makes her have to poop. (Courtesy of Ger)
029m — Way to abandon her in the wilderness without a compass, knife, or vampire protector. Time for Bella to collapse into a useless pile.
030m — (The moral of the story, young ladies, is you are nothing without your man...you should go ahead and die)
031m — Why does nobody ask why she was brought back by a naked Indian? Umm, we're gonna need a rape kit over here!
032m — Three months without a clothing (or facial expression) change. Kudos. That is depression at its finest! Your emo is impressive!
033m — "My pain is the only reminder that you were real"..wasn't that written by Ian Curtis?
034m — All email addresses in Sparkleponyland are name@me.com. That seems reasonable, GMail is probably not emo friendly enough.
046m — Bella's dad acts like Bella emotes.
048m — Playing Red-light, Green-light with the ghost of your boyfriend is probably not a sign of "sanity"
049m — Okay, I don't want to victim blame here...but she might be literally, actually asking to be raped.
050m — Sooo, what was Bella's friend's name again? Clumsy Exposition?
052m — "I don't really like music anymore"...Emo: you're doing it wrong! (Courtesy of @Sheryl67)
054m — The sysadmin at me.com has to be dangerously close to adding Bella to the spam blacklist by now...
057m — Okay, perhaps Jake could sell back some of his tooth whitening strips for a haircut.
060m — Hey Edward, perhaps distracting her while she is careening out of control on a motorcycle isn't the best way to keep her safe.
062m — "It's just a little blood, here, let me whip my shirt off"...thin excuse dude...having seen your pecs, I don't blame you; my panties are wet
062m — Did her schoolmate just offer her a "protein injection"?
063m — Who came up with these movie names? "Love spelled backwards is love"? "Face punch"? Seriously?
064m — It is very bad form to bring a date to your date...unless you're scrapping for a nerd-stud threesome
066m — "Someone who laughs at the gore that makes lesser men vomit"...like serial killers?
070m — Suddenly buff? Check. Random bouts of anger? Check. Check the badger from Narnia for steroids.
072m — Nice job Jake...you lost your wig somewhere on set, and now you have to have a fake haircut until you find it.
074m — Nothing say love like thinly veiled threats of violence. Xoxo, I'm gonna punch you in the face
075m — Oh, more sparkly Edward, who shall henceforth be named Sparklebiter Pony.
078m — If I were Bella, I might get a bit of a complex about being constantly described in food terms. Delicious, mouthwatering, meat sack.
079m — "I saw them, they are NOT bears"...no, Bella, they're the beavers from Narnia.
081m — "You have no idea how tight I'm bound"...judging from the fact that she can't look up from your pecs, I'd say she knows, Jake.
084m — Way to juke past the wheelchair bound guy, you insensitive bitch!
085m — I wish to god Mr Tumnus would show up and lull these wolves to sleep so they'll stop fighting...
088m — Try not to call Two-Face "the wolf girl", it is insensitive...like smacking a frickin werewolf
091m — "We chased her all the way to the Canadian border"...and if it weren't for DHS, we might have had her, eh?
094m — The soundtrack for this movie exists in the overlap in the Venn diagram where dub-step and Joy Division meet
098m — Even unconscious, Bella maintains her one facial expression...now THAT is acting! Wait, not it's not...
102m — Ohhh, the old "I smell a vampire" ploy, distant cousin to the "I think we're out of gas" ploy...well played Jake
106m — "I had to see that you were safe"...by giving her plenty of time to be killed first? Not much of a strategist, there...eh?
110m — The most presumptuous part of this thing is the hamhanded way that they drew the parallels to Romeo and Juliet. Very Shakespearean, this.
112m — We can't call..we can't send a message...the only way to solve this is to road trip to Italy and put Bella in harm's way!
116m — Noooo, Sparklebiter, don't do it! Seriously, put your shirt back on, you are frickin disgusting. Ugliest...my little pony...evar!
118m — "It doesn't make sense that you'd love me, I'm nothing"...Steph Meyer, reinforcing the abused woman archetype as heavily as possible!
121m — My math was wrong earlier...Acting 19%...Contacts 80%...Makeup 1%... but they clearly didn't spend that whole 1% on makeup artists...or any
122m — Apparently the lead vampire is Hecubus from Kids in the Hall. Good casting choice. EVIL!!
125m — They sized each actor's contact lenses by acting ability. Dakota Fanning's are huge. Kristen Stewart has none.
129m — Fear not, Sparklebiter's lipstick is back in full effect! I was worried until now...
132m — They have definitely done their best to make Robert Pattinson into the new James Dean. A sparkly, whiney, emo, morose James Dean.
133m — Come to think of it, I don't think they have ever seen a James Dean flick...
136m — I've said it before, I'll say it again: Team Jacob? Team Edward? How about Team Bella-gets-some-self-esteem-and-dumps-them-both?
138m — I have to hand it to them, they did manage to make a CGI wolf convey emo...that's something I guess.
138m — Team Acting-School?
143m — Aaand...we're done. Left with the "cliff hanger" of "will the chick who has been Edward's pathetic shadow say yes to his proposal?"...ponder
162m — One final New Moon note...don't bother with the movie, just watch this: http://short.to/23gso (Courtesy of @docah)

The Safety Dance

jer_ — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 01:40:58 EST

I was sitting down, tonight, to do a little writing about the recent ConFusion convention from the perspective of a con-runner; but the more I pondered how best to kick things off the more I realized that there is something else I would prefer to address. Sexual harassment.

The Problem

Recently, I was talking about the convention with a young lady who related to me the story of a “a guy being inappropriate” with her. In this story, she was quick to point out at the onset that she was dressed somewhat sexier than normal—in pajamas that were a bit more risqué than those in which she is generally seen around con—so that, as she put it, is was a factor. She was standing, talking with two gentlemen (but, she points out, not flirting or anything, just talking) when this third person approached her from behind, grabbed her in a “grabbing, pinching, kind of tickling motion” on the ribs immediately below breast level, then continued on his way. This is not “a guy being inappropriate” for the record, this is assault.

As it happens, one of the two gentlemen she was speaking to was her fiancé, so he immediately confronted her attacker at a fairly significant volume and was just shrugged off. The fiancé yelled that this behavior was not accepted, not okay, and wouldn't be tolerated and was again shrugged off.

My problems with this are many:

The young lady felt the need to point out that she was showing more skin than normal, as if this was in some way a mitigating factor.
She further felt the need to point out that she wasn't being flirtatious, as if flirtatiousness would have indicated that she, in some way, deserved it.
An individual felt that in the middle of a crowded convention full of people, it was a safe space for him to grab some woman without permission.
That a woman in the middle of a crowded convention full of people is not safe in assuming she won't be manhandled.
That in a crowded convention full of people, this can happen and only one person wandered over to see if everything was okay. Only one.
Finally, that the young lady and her fiancé were busy and didn't want to deal with looking like “the people who were causing trouble at the convention”, so they didn't address it at the time.

Let me say this in no uncertain terms: there is no manner of dress or flirtatious activity that gives you the right to initiate unwanted contact with another member of the convention! This is behavior that is unacceptable, period. Full stop. End of sentence. No mitigating factors needed or even allowed. I don't care if you have watched a young lady kiss every single person in the lobby on her way to you, when she gets to you, you do NOT have implied permission to initiate contact. You don't get permission to touch, hover over, leer at, or otherwise harass her. I don't care if a guy has been talking suggestively with you for the last hour, you don't get to grab him without explicit permission.

And that, really, is what it comes down to…explicit permission . There is no such thing as implicit permission at the local conventions. No clothing choice or activity implies that you have any permissions that have not been explicitly stated. Silence in no way implies consent, silence is dissent. Silence means NO!

These events are billed as a safe place for a normally ostracized group to be able to “be themselves” and “feel safe” in their geeky, crazy, often socially unacceptable interests…and it is high time to make that true for all of its members.

An Incomplete Solution

So, by my reckoning, a few problems have to be solved:

We need to know what is and is not acceptable behavior.
We need to make unacceptable behavior explicitly obvious.
We need to be aggressively intolerant of unacceptable behaviors.
We need to do all of these things as a community.

And to help solve them, I am going to launch a project—a small sub- community in fandom—to help resolve some of this as best we can, and here is what I want us to do:

Defining the Behaviors

To help define these behaviors, we need input, and that comes from all of you. Consider the commentary of this forum a jumping off point for discussion, for outlining behaviors that are and are not reasonable, acceptable, harassing, or uncomfortable. Discuss methods. Anything goes as long as you aren't being abusive or attempting to shut down conversation. If you aren't comfortable slugging all of your thoughts out here on the Internet, please feel free to send me them via email using jer before the at sign and ibloviate.org after it. As things progress, meetings will be scheduled where we can discuss this in an open way and solidify a unified set of behaviors to target so that we can take the next step…

Making the Behaviors Obvious

Among other things, I want to work with the local conventions to ensure that a specific and action-oriented policy toward sexual harassment is a part of the planning. A policy that addresses what is not acceptable, and outlines very specific actions that can and will be taken toward transgressors. We will ensure that these policies are expressed in the program book, on the website, and prominently around the convention in the form of signage and apparel. But that is only a start.

Additional action that we can work toward would include running panels discussing the topic at the convention and training concom and staff in how to deal with the situations that can and will arise.

The convention committees, however, are less than half of the problem. The far more pervasive (and more difficult to approach) issue is that of acceptance on behalf of the attendees. As evidenced by a number of stories I've heard in the past week, we are collectively turning a blind eye toward these things. This isn't a problem that we turn over to Operations or the con staff, these are behaviors that we have to refuse to accept; instead we must meet them with scorn and derision.

Becoming Intolerant

We have to become intolerant toward these behaviors, and unfortunately, this is a slow, painful process. It begins with a few bold individuals who are willing to risk embarrassment, awkwardness, and making a scene to create a safe place for others. It works like this: If I am at a convention or party and I see someone making sexual advances toward someone else without explicit invitation, I will intervene. I will ask if the advance is welcomed. I will get involved if the advance is not.

Act as a Community

But it's not enough that I do it, we all have to. I further vow that if I am at a convention or party and I see someone intervening in a situation, I will back them up. I will wander over and stand by and see if things are okay. I will not mock if it was a misunderstanding, but I will point out that we are better safe than sorry. I will not just act, but I will support the action of others.

A More Complete Solution

This is nowhere near a complete manner of dealing with so complicated an issue, but it is a start. It is a launching point…and we need one, because if we never start, we will never finish. If we never try, things continue as they are.

The way things are is not good enough.

So I ask that you all join me as we start this bumpy road to safety. Share with me your thoughts, your views, and ways that this endeavor can be made more successful as we grow and change. The complete solution begins and ends with each of you joining together to perfect this, to improve this, and to create an atmosphere that is more perfectly safe for all of our various members. I invite you to join us.

[Edited 2010-01-31@1052] I have posted some thoughts about the message traffic received in the 12 hours following this post. They can be found right here if you are so inclined.

ConFusion 2010

jer_ — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 15:03:20 EST

I have such a difficult time in writing these follow-up posts after a convention. I desperately want to write everything down immediately, while the memories are fresh and interesting to me—unfortunately my brain is usually such a exhausted, jumbled mess after a weekend immersed in the freaks and geeks that it is virtually impossible to string together a coherent narrative (which presupposes that I have ever before strung together words that could be considered “coherent” or even “a narrative”, but I digress). So usually I wait a week or so and find that my loss of interest and hazy memory of events results in a rather lackluster summary of the weekend. This time I'm going to try to write this out immediately, and hope that the editorial process will make it something akin to readable. This is my “from an attendee's perspective” version…I'll do one from the conrunner's perspective if I'm so inclined later.

If the years of the conventions were given names based on their characteristics—like the Chinese zodiac—, I See by my ConFusion would have taken place in the Year of the Storyteller. Our guests of honor spoke to us tales of fantasy, regaled us with anecdotes from conventions past, sang stories of beautiful fantasy, and shared epic tales of space exploration as if yanked directly from a grammar schooler's imagination. Oh, and we had an awesome artist guest who I couldn't make fit the metaphor at all.

Thursday

Ger had to work on Thursday, so I was able to begin my weekend early by picking up Peter Beagle and his Minion/Lackey/Cohort/Friend Connor Cochran from the airport…and giving them the ride back to the hotel began my weekend's story. Peter is a masterful weaver of myth, so hearing of his last time in the area some forty years previous was like hearing the highlights of a great book not like hearing someone's memories. This became more apparent when we were able to join him at his table at the GoH dinner (a fantastic choice by Jess, for the record…an Asian buffet) and hear his and Connor's banter, jokes, and stories. We got a chance to see most of the other GoHs (and more than a few friends that we haven't seen for a long time) before an awkward closing speech (seriously awkward…as in, the phrase “I really don't know much about you” was used to introduce one of the guests, shortly after referring to the the guest's significant other as his “girlfriend-wife-date-thingie”…that kid of awkward) closed things out. At meal's end, Peter had been up for something near to forty hours, so we got him back to the hotel—it should be noted that we got him back to the hotel amidst his protestations that he didn't want to seem ungracious—and let them get some rest before the weekend really kicked off.

Upon our return to the hotel, we met up with Dawn, Greg, and Leane, who hadn't eaten yet. After a bit of discussion, we determined that Ger and I would be happy to accompany the group to PF Chang's to make asses of ourselves while they ate. And oh, make asses of ourselves we did!*

Friday

Friday, I arrived on site to find a bit of a mess. Nothing major was going wrong, per se, but there was a bit of a lack of organization. I ran around for a bit and helped coordinate things with the hotel, while hanging out with friends. The clusterfuck was generally settled within a few hours (with the notable exception of some issues that should have been dealt with pre-con and now were entirely un-deal-with-able). Once that was done, I had time to kill while I waited for my panels to start. Mostly, we just kind of hung out until the first one—Introduction to ConFusion—hit at 6pm, in which I largely sat and gave additional points of information for whatever topic was meandered across during a rather disorganized info-dump by my co-presenter. At 7pm the AASFA board convened to give out on-the-spot grants in a very Dragon's Den style…only with a few less pairs of pants. The proceedings were entertaining, one involved the PF Chang's story coupled with interpretive dance and one involved random acts of randomness, but I hope that in future versions of this people grasp the importance of putting on a good show when they make their pitch. In all, we provided financing for a liquors panel, a massive room party and some liquor beverage to go with, Jello brains for the consuite, and lube wrestling in the pool area (which ultimately got canned by the hotel for liability reasons). That completed my responsibilities to the convention for the day, so we moseyed on to opening ceremonies to be bored.

The boredom was short lived.

After a moderately stumbling opening ceremonies-style introduction to the convention by ConChair Jessi Zerwas, the guests of honor each introduced themselves, beginning with Peter Beagle. Catherynne Valente followed with *the* speech which so knocked the audience on its collective ass…as I said on Twitter immediately following, “GoH speech by @catvalente was the single greatest I've heard...beautiful, literary, funny, and entirely ecapsulating why we are here! <3”. SJ “Sooj” Tucker sang us a convention song that was gorgeous and sweet. David Gibbs shared with us why, as our Fan GoH, this was such an honor (and also let slip that only once they were on stage were several of the GoHs told there was a speech, which was reiterated by Matt and Steve later). Matt Busch let out his inner fanboy for a moment as he spoke of his excitement in being a part of the convention and of being honored alongside such esteemed counterparts. We finished with Steve Collins telling us of “exploring Mars” and, for a brief moment, reminding us of why astronaut is every school child's dream job for at least a little while. I don't often go to opening ceremonies of conventions, but if they were all like this I might start.

Most of the rest of the evening was spent hanging out with friends. Several members of the Chicago crew were up for the convention, so for several hours I “held court” in the lobby amongst Dave, Elizabeth, Leane, Greg, Dawn, my lovely wife, and a rotating field of various others. Around 10:30pm, I was reminded that Man of a Thousand Names had a show with his band Stone Crazy Pirates, so several of us ran down to catch the last half hour. Fan-frickin'-tastic. To (again) quote my Twitter (something I predict I will be doing a lot here...), “Must see: Stone Crazy Pirates...not a gimmick, a pretty awesome set of musicians!” and “Last SCP post: I want these guys to play Penguicon...in a much bigger room...they rock.”. Following the music, The Great Tree Caper occurred!**

The normal conventiony-time madness happened throughout the evening (up to and including a noise complaint only mildly more surreal than the noise woes Penguicon is dealing with in that this complaint involved a volunteer staying in the volunteer crash space complaining of noise), but generally we just wandered the (relatively abysmal) party scene. There were, however, two high-notes on the party circuit…the first, a semi-private (in that they did not do much announcing) party themed as a fancy bar full of fancy drinks and run by Tammy, Erik, Kevin, and (I'm told) a fourth person whose name I do not know offhand. I was mixed a non-alcoholic soda beverage (which caused the normal moment of concern for me as I stared at my glass and hoped-hoped-hoped it was going to be non-alcoholic) that was absolutely delicious (thank you Tammy!). I was thankful to see that others had tipped as heavily as I did in thanks for this awesome contribution to the con. The second was the KITH themed party thrown by Moonbeam, Dan, and others (I think) that was entertaining…clearly a lot of thought and time was put into doing it big, and it showed. Ultimately, the length of the day and utter exhaustion got the better of us, and Ger and I passed out around 2am.

Saturday

First, let me say that crashing in a room with the kids is a somewhat different con experience night-wise than Ger and I are used to. That said, I managed to rake in a whopping five hours of sleep on Friday night, which about the amount that I normally manage all weekend at an average con, so perhaps their presence was good for that. It was also great for breakfast, because at con I tend to just fail to eat entirely until someone reminds me, with children I have a built-in reminder that meals need to happen. I will probably not mention the children much in this narrative, if only because Cody essentially existed in the gaming room for every waking hour, whereas Amber spent her time divided between KidFusion (which was yet another amazing effort by Lisa…next year is going to be rough with her as Fan GoH rather than KidFusion awesomeness generator) and hanging out with a gaggle of children doing their own thing. While I don't mention it here much, just assume that periodically throughout this weekend there were all-too-brief visits from the children and constant text message check-ins (“still here in med room” from Cody and “Kidfusion” from Amber, mostly).

As the kids were finishing their game of “cram breakfast into faces as quickly as possible to abandon lame-old-dad in favor of fun” The Ferrett and Gini wandered into the dining area and agreed to join me for a bit. It was nice, actually being able to sit and have a conversation with them without their usual envoy or the hustle and bustle of surrounding con folk as it was ridiculously early by con standards. Discussion of fandom, collectible card games, and Yu Gi Oh thug life ensued until I realized that I was in danger of being late to my first panel of the morning.

The morning version of the Intro to ConFusion panel was in sharp contrast to that of the previous evening. I was on the schedule with Anne and David, our Fan GoH, and both seemed far more prepared and interested in telling our one new participant about the convention's history, how to get involved and meet people, and what to do that is fun at the convention. The only downside, unlike the previous evening, no hot ladies gave me their room number this time (sorry I never made it up ladies…call me!). Shortly thereafter, several of us made our way to the Concierge Lounge for the Improv Panel featuring Carrie, Dawn, and Greg with special guest Josh, who was fresh off a red-eye and utterly exhausted. The panel was hilarious, and had a better turnout than it has seen in the past. Chris' Loch Ness Pterodactyl was a riot, as was Skennedy's paranoid schizophrenic. I, as always, participated…and I was reminded why I don't do improv comedy…I'm just not as quick of wit as people that are actually good at it. If I were to make any improvement to the panel, I would make it an easy hour longer; just when things got going, the panel was done.

Once done, we all made our way downstairs to hit the Social Media panel, featuring Mike Reznick, Cat Valente, Sarah Zettel, Dawn, and The Ferrett, which became the Jer_ show briefly in the middle, prompting Cat to state more than once that everyone is awful to me…needless to say, with my ego, it was a good time for me. A lot of very interesting points were made about how everyone is using social media as a method for advertising one's self or for building community. A particularly amusing exchange between Reznick and Cat then between Cat and Greg resulted in some fairly amusing quotes that stuck with us long into the SMOScast later in the evening…and with any luck, it will be usable when I do the editing. During the panel, I also decided to manipulate some FourSquare locations so that it would be more useful for the convention, so I registered two of the Salon rooms and the Concierge Lounge as individual destinations. With luck, we can use this to help track popularity of certain panels at Penguicon or next year's ConFusion. It won't be great data, but it will be interesting tracking. Oh, it is worth noting that, mid-panel, my hive-mind failed me for the first time by entirely failing to provide me with Sarah Zettel's Twitter ID.

We all quickly bailed on the meet and greet segment of the panel to catch Greg, Anne, and David giving the SMOF: How to Run a Con panel, which was informative and interesting and often funny. Quite a bit of time was spent talking about launching a convention, and quite a bit was spent discussing the facility aspect of the event, which lends credence to my belief that this part of it more than any other is mystifying to many. That fact explains why when I do the relatively minimal amount that I do for the con with regards to the hotel, it is so well received. The single most important fact, however, is that Greg was renamed at this panel and shall henceforth be named “Senor Greggypants the Twinkle-Toed.”

By the time we were done with the panel, it was definitely time for dinner. Since the kids had their dinner covered by the KidFusion pizza party and Ger had duties related to liaising, I was on my own, so I joined a rapidly increasing group of folks to hit a local coney island. By the time we got to Kirby's we rolled deep enough to fill a table that cut a swath down the center of the place; Josh, Senor Greggypants, Dawn, Lucy, Scott, Kirby, Joe, Katie, Rachel, Nuri, James and I all hung out, had fun, were entertaining enough that we were being photographed and video-recorded by a nearby table of teens, and ultimately scared the shit out of those teens.*** Oh, and my wife might have missed an attempted guy-on-guy kiss at some point there.

Dawn, Greg, and I stopped by the liquor store to pick up the brown liquors for the panel and grabbed several nice choices which went over quite well. During the panel, one of my biggest convention pet peeves reared his head—the annoying attendee and his sense of entitlement. About two-thirds of the way into the panel, an individual wandered in, waited about one minute, and interrupted the panelists to interject some random fact that was both not entirely correct and covered about five minutes previous. He immediately turned to walk out when Greg make a sarcastic barb related to hating it when people show up late to a panel and interrupt with useless trivia…because, you know, that's kinda what happened. Instantly, some asshole in the audience interrupted with his Captain Save-a-Douche uniform on display, "I showed up on time, and I've been enjoying this panel, but if that's going to be your attitude, fuck you." At which point he walked out. Seriously. I…fucking…hate…people. Fortunately, Greg laughed it off, snarked, and moved on. The rest of the panel appears to have gone swimmingly.

After that, we all went back to Mr. Twinkle-Toes' room to “rehearse” the scripted portion of the evening's SMOScast…and by rehearse I mean look at it for the first time for all but Dawn and I. After some reading and some light notes, I ran downstairs to print. I was thwarted for about fifteen minutes by some jackhole who was playing Mafia Wars and Farmville on the business center computer. Now, let me preface the following by saying that, while I think both are foolish to the nth degree, I don't have anything against Mafia Wars or Farmville or any other stupid Facebook game. I do, on the other hand, have a problem with some pitiful chump who is so addicted to their pathetic Facebook game that they feel the need to tie up the sole business center computer for extended periods of time to play in the middle of a convention. Sir, go kill yourself, you definitely have no reason to go on. Seriously, this is not a joke, go take your own life. We will wait.

If you are the individual described above (heretofore referred to as “Cockboy”), and you are still reading this, I'm even more disappointed in you than I was before. No commitment sir; none at all!

Once Cockboy was done, I got my printing done and ran upstairs to get ready for the SMOScast…well, I got ready to wait until the Port panel that ran long finished (but fuck it, I wasn't going to rush them, because they appeared to be having a ball and, it's not like we were on a schedule) and until I could get my Ubuntu laptop to notice that I had a microphone (I never did get it to work, we ended up loading the software on Greg's Windows 7 laptop, much to Microsoft evangelist Josh's delight and Ubuntu evangelist Trevor's dismay). Then we were off. The scripted portion, a recounting of the saga of the Penguicon noise complaint done in the style of an old time superhero radio show, went very well. The rest of the 'cast was absolutely hilarious, and almost assuredly unusable. There is this fantastic part, however, where Greg is joking about the social media panel—specifically the exchange between Mike (Reznick), Cat (Valente), and himself—mocking Mike and Cat's responses when Mike Reznick walks in the door saying, "I heard my name."

As Greg reiterated his Mike impression (which involved the phrase “Buy my books then go die”) for Reznick, to which Reznick responded, in hilarious fashion, “That's pretty accurate, actually.” In all, the live show went very well, as it generally does, and editing should be a nightmare, as it generally is. Such is the nature of a bunch of people with no concept of boundaries recording things they think are funny. The part that is most important to me, however, is that some of the funniest people I know got together and had fun with one another. That…is…awesome! After the show, we hung out and conversed for a brief while, but Ger was pumpkining hard so we called it a night around 2, despite some really enticing hot-tub offers.

Sunday

Sunday began as way-too-early as did Saturday, wherein the kids and I grabbed a Consuite breakfast (thank the great gods of Consuite for Pop Tarts, Nutrigrain bars, and cereal) while I was told tales of things that went wrong in the night. After breakfast, I cruised downstairs only to have some more of the events of the evening related to me by some of the hotel staff…all I can say is I hope the convention tipped the staff well, because they took considerable care of us in several ways on Saturday evening—and if the tales I've heard from both hotel and congoers of senior concom's handling of some situations (both by a drunken concom member and a sober-and-should-know-better one) are true, we should be ashamed of ourselves. We mostly hung out with friends, had a fantastic goodbye lunch with Dawn, Greg, and Leane, then killed some time waiting for closing ceremonies.

While waiting for closing ceremonies to begin, Nuri leaned over and asked me if this shindig was in need of a tree. I agreed that it was, so we ran out into the hall to retrieve the Christmas tree left over from the Great Tree Caper** and wheeled it through the crowded hallway into the ballroom where the walkway was not wide enough to get the tree up front. There was a moment where Nuri and I stopped and we considered moving an entire column of chairs to make this work…ultimately, we just parked the tree in the back as a spectator. The GoHs talked about their favorite parts of the convention—Peter Beagle spoke of how spoiled the convention made him feel (which can be attributed directly to my darling wife, despite Peter having said both of our names…I was support staff, she was the orchestrator of any pampering that was done)—and Sooj sang another amazing song, prompting me to note in Twitter that I don't know how I've gone this long without hearing more of her music. Jess thanked select individuals for help then someone from the back (Freon if memory serves) had the presence of mind to ask the convention committee to stand and take their applause. After a few more disorganized add-on thoughts to an emptying room (note to prospective conchairs: have a plan going into opening and closing ceremonies), the con was over.

Nuri, James and I quickly bolted to the back of the room and grabbed the tree to hustle it into its final appearance at the feedback session. This time, Christmassy McTree was able to get a seat up at the front table, so there were no hurt feelings. The gripe session was…interesting, I suppose. Several of us noted that the people in the session might have attended a different convention. Suffice to say that after around 2 hours of mind-numbing torture during which very few actual action-items were discussed, I was ready to leave. Anybody that sat through that probably has a stronger understanding of why Penguicon shuts down the “me too's” so quickly; a properly managed feedback panel is invaluable, improperly managed it is without value—and those don't mean the same thing.

Finally, the lot of us headed to Red Robin for post-con dinner full of back patting, relaxing, withdrawal, and not a small amount of quietly planning for the next convention.

Summary

In all, the first convention I “didn't work” since becoming involved in this community was fun. There were definitely lessons to be learned, but I had a great time. My kids loved everything and could not speak highly enough about the gaming, kidfusion, and consuite. A few days following, we still aren't back to 100% on our sleep and we're still working on recovering; something must have gone right. I had a great time and it was a nice warmup to Capricon coming up in a week and change.

* The story of PF Chang's is a long story, and one that doesn't lend itself well to the written word. Ask me about it sometime.

** Now, the Great Tree Caper is almost assuredly going to be an entry of it's own. I'll link it in here when I get around to writing it.

*** This, too, is a fun story that I'll either write or you'll have to ask me about it. When Greg says “all the big guys, get by the door” there will be a story at the other end.

2009 in Review

jer_ — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 13:39:33 EST

It is that time again…the time to navel gaze and introspect about the highlights of yet another trip around the sun. My thoughts on the year 2009.

By the Numbers

iBloviate.org saw a sharp increase in traffic, with 395,000 requests and nearly 230,000 pages served. This is especially impressive given the slump that was the first half of the year. The year through the end of July accounted for less than one-third of my annual traffic, so the remaining 5 months must have been truly busy to accumulate the remainder. While this certainly sounds like a lot of eyeballs, the reality is that is actually pretty low. The Whatever (author John Scalzi's blog) is ranked 90,000 by Alexa and had probably about 4 million pageviews this year (and I'll wager I'm low by a decent percentage there)…Alexa doesn't even know I exist. How is that for humbling, Alexa even knows about Tucker Max, but I don't exist. It's an unfair world, kids.

My accounting of why I won't get Father of the Year remains (by far) the biggest source of traffic, accounting for nearly three-quarters of my pageviews; mostly on the back of a StumbleUpon mention (which means, either I need more of my stuff ‘stumbled’ or I need to write about being a shitty father more, one of the two). Interestingly enough second place was essentially a tie between the various parts of the Gamer's Outreach saga, my account of genital waxing, and the listing of Penguicon 7 reports. ~~This is the first time, I think, that one of my non-humor pieces did so well~~ (as it turns out, the Open Source Boob Project bit did similarly well, so that was a lie)

In all, a not-too-shabby year for my little vanity site.

Below, I recount the year through blog posts and my own faulty memory. I have also included a “Most Interesting Read” link for each month. This is the post that I made that amused or interested me the most as I trolled back through my posts. You might find them uninteresting, but I did not.

The Year, Itself

January saw me start and summarily obliterate a new diet in the same day, start new classes (both teaching and taking) which is far from abnormal for me lately, and otherwise lead a pretty boring life. (Unless, of course, you count losing breaks on the coldest night of the year, a little convention, and getting a free car from my family as ‘not boring’, that is)

Most interesting read: I mess with people on a bus
I drank even more of the Google Kool-Aid in February when I picked up a G1 phone running the new Android operating system. It remains my favorite phone among the dozens I've owned. Ger and I started a wedding website and went to Capricon in Chicago so we could play with Dawn and Greg more. Oh, I got a Twitter account.

Most interesting read: I discuss the nature of my blog-to-reader relationship
The Internet exploded, in March with the latest in a series of insert-witty-summary-word-here-fail in an apparent attempt to see if even a topic as important as racism could be trivialized by adding the fail suffix to it. Somewhere on the 'net a rational discussion was had…it was almost entirely masked, though, by the thousands of people who used it as a launchpad for their “look at how enlightened I am” blog entries. My life became a bit hectic with Penguicon and wedding planning.

Most interesting read: I ponder volunteer project management and deadlines in a ‘less comedy, more rant’ sort of way
Ahh, April…if you were to judge by my posting, nothing happened at all this month, but that is because I was too busy with a bachelor party, school, and doing the logistics for a wedding and convention to post about any of these things. Frankly, if it weren't for Twitter feeding my blournal, I would have virtually no posts this month.

Most interesting read: I don't know, probably a newspaper. I posted precious little, and what few posts I did have were mostly “here's why I'm absent” messages.
What happened in May? Not too much, just a convention, a wedding (mine, specifically), a certain “charity” acting the fool, then traveling across the state for yet ANOTHER wedding. My dream of blissfully relaxing after the full court press that was the first week of the month disintegrated into a flurry of plans and running around (and, to be honest, I am not sure I could live any other way). In familial news, my ex-wife and I made the decision that next school year we'd try it with the kids living at her home.

Most interesting read: it's not a full on entry, but I was very amused when re-reading live Tweeting while watching the Twilight movie
June was apparently the month for Intarweb drama. First, a piece that I wrote explodes into interpersonal drama because it shared temporal space with OTHER interpersonal drama. Next, LJ personality TheFerrett was abused into deleting his web presence (he later returned). Oh, and an author friend found herself in financial trouble (and was abused for her friends trying to help her). Also in the “kinda crappy” column was my random kidney pain turned enlarged spleen and liver.

It was not all bad though: the new summer convention ( ConStruct) advanced considerably and I formed a plan to self-publish a book (a book which is oh so close to complete).

Most interesting read: Probably the piece that I wrote that sparked all of the fun controversy I alluded to before. The entry is innocuous, but the commentary and snark that followed is priceless. It also generated a quote I love…

I am profoundly comfortable with who I am. There are few enough people whose opinions of ME matter that I can count them on all of my digits with many left over. The opinions most of my friends have of my actions is of more importance…and the opinions of the remainder of the world is of almost no importance. I don't seek outside approval; I know who I am (within reason) and I like that person quite a bit. The rest of the world can take me or leave me.
In July, Gamer's Outreach ran a painfully unsuccessful LAN (and was given some free consultation about how to fix some of the broken). The next weekend, MPCon threw a LAN that was clearly successful. Seeing both was interesting from a event manager standpoint. Most of my month, however, was spent gearing up for the launch of the new convention we started (the aforementioned ConStruct), so I did very little writing and a great deal of pseudo working. Also, we found out nothing more about my medical woes.

Most interesting read: another month with nothing interesting (by me, at least)
My grandmother passed away in early August, as I noted in a post about her card playing habits. I switched to a safety razor from cartridge-style pain and expense…and found the cost of my shaved head diminished tremendously. My daughter started having significant behavioral problems, and school hadn't even started. Oh, and while we were gone for the weekend, our home got robbed for the eleventy-billionth time. Life was interesting in the Chinese proverb sense. In happier news, though, ConStruct happened and it was awesome!!!

Most interesting read: We are all Ambassadors wherein I discuss the racist happenings witnessed at a restaurant.
In September we signed a lease for a new place in a presumably less robbery-heavy locale. I loaded CyanogenMOD on my G1 (and lo, did wondrous glories appear unto me). The kids and I started back to school (and I started blogging for my school again). I rode in the Tour de Troit (and determined that I only roll with fun-riders in the future; serious riders don't enjoy themselves enough, they just complain about the pace). Mostly, I entirely failed to write because I was entirely wrapped up in getting ready to move and starting back to school.

Most interesting read: didn't even happen on my blog, and didn't get published until early October, but it was WRITTEN in September, so that should count… 10 Random Things About Jer
I moved to Livonia in October into a place that we really love. I also took a moment to adjust my priorities and make more time for the things that are important; in this case, family, school, and at least a smidgen of free time (in hindsight, two out of three isn't bad, eh?). Ger and I hung out with the always fun Dawn and Greg at ConClave (and I had a bit of an bit of a problem with the Dorsai Irregular). I celebrated seven years drug and alcohol free.

Most interesting read: Well, I am partial to my drug post (above) but for something a bit less heavy, I rant about zealotry (and learn that narwhals are real…crazy)
November was rung in by my participation in the International Collegiate Programming Contest regionals and changing my laptop over to Ubuntu. Not having gotten enough of the Chicago crew, Ger and I traveled to Chicago for WindyCon; much fun was had! The SMOScast made a comeback early in the month and good friends came together at month's end for food and fun.

Most interesting read: I revisit one of my biggest open source peeves
Finally, in December I found myself briefly the target of a personal attack campaign, then got myself added to someone else's by virtue of talking about it…when will I learn, eh? I managed to stop nailbiting (at least so far). I finished yet another semester of slowly dragging down my GPA with B+'s (but the important bit is that I finished). As the year waned, my family and I traveled to New York and entirely failed to get robbed while we were gone, this time. I complained about feminist hypocrisy a bit (which seems to have become my shtick, annoyingly enough), but mostly I relaxed for the first time in a long, long time. It has been nice. Barring anything unforeseen today, that pretty much closes up the year.

Most interesting read: This would have to be the saga of the anti-Jer campaign in all of its insane glory.

By the Numbers

I cannot complain about this year. It ended with a wonderful wife, a nice new place to live, and a bit of time with friends. Okay, that would be my one complaint—I would like to have spent more time with friends. So if I were to have any sort of resolution this new year, it would be that…to make more time for hanging out with friends. Oh, and I'm 95% of the way done with the aforementioned book, so within the next week I should be done with the main writing, I should be able to pay my artist for his illustrations, and then I have only to put everything together and do the editorial work. So those are the things I wish to do, spend more time with friends and finish this damned book.

So, what were your most memorable parts of this last year?

Driving me to Humanism

jer_ — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 01:04:27 EST

Why is it that people with beliefs that I respect so often don't actually practice those beliefs? I am time and again frustrated and upset by people that express a core belief structure that really resonates with me…something with which I really connect…time and again I find myself disillusioned by those same people.

Yesterday, an author and female that I respect as something of a self-professed feminist posted this picture with the associated text as follows: “This is the single manliest image evar. @justbeast's dad at age 18”.

If you don't immediately see the problem, don't fret—it took me several minutes to recognize what the nagging in the back of my mind was trying to make apparent. Ultimately, what did it for me was to switch up the genders a bit, as I did in a follow-up tweet: “THIS is the portrait of femininity... http://twitpic.com/vo9q6 ...” with a link to picture of my wife in a classic ‘female’ gender role situation…holding a laundry basket.

You see, regardless of which genders' stereotypes you are upholding, it sucks. It doesn't just suck for that gender, either. I have a number of close friends with any of a number of gender identity disorders ranging from merely enjoying wearing clothes outside of those assigned to their gender to full on dysphoria, and when you draw gender lines like that—intense gaze, furrowed brow, cigarette gripped before face equals masculinity—it reinforces something hurtful to those people. Just as important, you can't reinforce only one boundary on the gender-identity continuum; it doesn't work that way. No, when you reinforce that masculinity is the milieu for a hawk-like stare into the distance while enjoying a cigarette, you reinforce that femininity is not associated with that. When you say that picture is manly, you imply that women who look this way or do these things are somehow being manly. You also imply that men who do not are not manly.

And really, if we are all about breaking down the gender stereotypes, don't we really owe it to ourselves to shatter them in both directions? Especially if we acknowledge that breaking them down in one direction really solves nothing? I mean, I think we can all agree that ridding ourselves of the notion that pink is ‘girlie’ does us little good if we retain the notions that pink is not manly, but blue is. What good is making ‘women should be cooks and maids’ a thing of the past if we cling to ‘men should be firemen and police officers’? What good is saying that it is wrong to say that real women do this if we are running around saying that real men do this?

So I pointed this out to the feminist in question, assuming that she merely hadn't thought it through…and it was dismissed in a way that was amusingly…well, I would have to say the best description for how it was dismissed was in true masculine fashion: “for contemporary definitions of such, it is. Now, add that the man in the picture spent his spare time in Kazakhstan knitting. Still manly.” I refer to this as a masculine evasion because I see the same responses belittled on feminist forums constantly when men are called on their sexist terminology for saying things like “man up”, “don't be a pussy”, or “grow some balls” and respond with things like “it's just an expression, it doesn't actually mean that men are braver or bolder than women”. It sounds thin and transparent when we do it, and it's equally transparent when it's done by women. It was with this poor rationale in mind that I included my disclaimer in my example tweet above; instead of just saying that my wife with a laundry basket was truly feminine, I added this caveat: “(Don't worry ladies, it's not misogynist...she reads Bitch magazine!!)”

So those are the rules of the game—rules which will now be my go-to anti-sexism spray. Whenever I am about to say something overtly sexist and gender-stereotype-reinforcing, I will be sure to point out that I'm only doing so from the perspective of ‘contemporary definitions’ and that it doesn't matter, because in some untargeted aspect of my subject they break gender roles.

This is why, although I consider a great many feminist goals and ideologies important, I do not identify as a feminist anymore. I identify as a humanist (at least from a gender and racial standpoint). I feel like the goal of third-wave feminism has shifted from breaking down gender stereotypes and barriers that prevent equality to some agenda that I neither believe in nor entirely understand. Sadly, that seems to be the feeling of a lot of would-be feminists that find themselves unable to stomach the current politics of the movement; or the current evasions.

Note: I recognize that this is almost assuredly going to be perceived as a personal attack. Things like this always are. There is nothing I can do about that. I considered for several hours how I could write this without directly addressing the photos in question and ultimately decided that without the context of the actual situation, the discussion loses a great deal of impact; too much impact for my liking. So, what you have is this; potential for hurt feelings and all. I will have to live with that. I would only ask that readers do two things for me before getting too terribly butt-hurt on the author's behalf:

Recognize that I stripped personally identifying information from the situation to every degree possible while still maintaining the context of the situation. I like the author a great deal, consider her a friend, and genuinely wish that this had been written by someone else so that I could be my aggressive self about it.
Consider the merits of the argument posed before you complain that this is an attack. Perhaps, just maybe, I have something legitimate to complain about. Just sayin'

Penguicon 7 Reports

jer_ — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 13:21:32 EST

Sorry, I had to move this while doing some housekeeping. The file you are looking for is here. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Candy Mountain Audio

jer_ — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 13:08:12 EST

It is exactly what it says it is...some audio clips from Candy Mountain. I'm not proud...

»The Candy Mountain Song
»Hey, Charlie!
»Shun the Non-Believer!

Personal Report of Public Speaking Anxiety (PRPSA)

jer_ — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 12:24:40 EST

"> Directions:

This instrument is composed of thirty-four statements concerning feelings about communicating with other people. Indicate the degree to which the statements apply to you by marking whether you (1) strongly agree, (2) agree, (3) are undecided, (4) disagree, or (5) strongly disagree with each statement. Work quickly; record your first impression.

1	2	3	4	5
					1. While preparing for giving a speech, I feel tense and nervous.
					2. I feel tense when I see the words "speech" and "public speech" on a course outline when studying.
					3. My thoughts become confused and jumbled when I am giving a speech.
					4. Right after giving a speech I feel that I have had a pleasant experience.
					5. I get anxious when I think about a speech coming up.
					6. I have no fear of giving a speech.
					7. Although I am nervous just before starting a speech, I soon settle down after starting and feel calm and comfortable.
					8. I look forward to giving a speech.
					9. When the instructor announces a speaking assignment in class, I can feel myself getting tense.
					10. My hands tremble when I am giving a speech.
					11. I feel relaxed when I am giving a speech.
					12. I enjoy preparing for a speech.
					13. I am in constant fear of forgetting what I prepared to say.
					14. I get anxious if someone asks me something about my topic that I do not know.
					15. I face the prospect of giving a speech with confidence.
					16. I feel that I am in complete possession of myself while giving a speech.
					17. My mind is clear when giving a speech.
					18. I do not dread giving a speech.
					19. I perspire just before starting a speech.
					20. My heart beats very fast just as I start a speech.
					21. I experience considerable anxiety while sitting in the room just before my speech starts.
					22. Certain parts of my body feel very tense and rigid while giving a speech.
					23. Realizing that only a little time remains in a speech makes me very tense and anxious.
					24. While giving a speech, I know I can control my feelings of tension and stress.
					25. I breathe faster just before starting a speech.
					26. I feel comfortable and relaxed in the hour or so just before giving a speech.
					27. I do poorer on speeches because I am anxious.
					28. I feel anxious when the teacher announces the date of a speaking assignment.
					29. When I make a mistake while giving a speech, I find it hard to concentrate on the parts that follow.
					30. During an important speech I experience a feeling of helplessness building up inside me.
					31. I have trouble falling asleep the night before a speech.
					32. My heart beats very fast while I present a speech.
					33. I feel anxious while waiting to give my speech.
					34. While giving a speech, I get so nervous I forget facts I really know.

Questions and scoring technique from Mastering Public Speaking 6th ed. by George L. Grice and John F. Skinner. Copyright 2007 by Allyn & Bacon.
Used without permission.

Anti-Jer Campaigning

jer_ — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 14:06:00 EST

This needs some backstory...

So the other day at work, a student's phone starts ringing with another of those pop-sounding not-quite-midi-but-not-quite-the-real-song ringtones that are ALMOST more annoying than hearing the actual song. Oh, and it was on LOUD. After the student let a verse or two play out (easily 15 or 20 seconds) he answered the phone. Loudly.

So I wandered over and—trying to keep it light (because the above mentioned people are also the exact sort to immediately take offense to even the mildest rebuke)—I said, “Hey, is that for me?” He responded that it wasn't, so I said, “Aww, then you'll have to take it outside then.” I chuckled, he chuckled, then he walked toward the door. Mission accomplished and, as a bonus, everyone is in a good mood.

Well, they WERE in a good mood.

On the way to the door, the student asks “If it was for you, would you have talked to him?”

“Of course,” I replied jokingly, and moved on with my day, having no idea that I had somehow triggered someone's persecution complex. Ooops.

After standing directly (and I mean DIRECTLY) outside the door for a few minutes having his LOUD conversation, he wandered in and immediately started with the abusive and belligerent attitude. Some gems...

“I bet you think you're a big man”
“You think this is your safety zone, don't you”
“Think you're untouchable until someone touches you”
“You aren't a cop, you don't tell people what to do”

So, I let these go on for a while (including the ones that I took as direct and indirect threats) because he slowly petered out when I ignored him, and ultimately wandered off to sit in his seat. I had hoped that it was then over. Sadly, it began anew, and increased in volume before continuing—at varying volumes—for the next 5 or so minutes. Long enough that other students in the lab were looking uncomfortable, so I asked him to quiet down. I was reminded that I was not, in fact, an officer of the law and therefore could stuff it. Fair enough. I warned my bosses that I should be deputized, but NOOOoooooo.

When it continued, my normally stoic and uninvolved co-worker even stood up and asked the student to calm (and quiet) down. It was at this point that he asked why I was always on his case (to which I responded that I don't think I'd ever seen him before and had no idea who he was) and why I was racist (as far as I can tell, he is caucasian, but I suppose I could be racist and self-loathing to boot). He railed on for quite some time more before I finally asked him to either be quiet or leave the lab. His response, that he would do neither, resulted in a call to campus safety and his ultimate removal.

Which brings us to today's fun. I got a call from a coworker informing me that there were flyers hung up around my building complaining about me. I was so excited I raced into work to see the fun, and what I saw was better than I could have hoped…picture and text below…

Important note: I have changed NOTHING here save for removing the name of the school in question. I realize that it's not all that hard to place which school we're talking about, but it's not exactly important to the narrative. It is actually this bad, and as you can see from the image, it was exactly as unpunctuated and unindented. It was a wall of text. Do they not teach about paragraphs at crazy school?

I recently was involved in a confrontation with a staff member named Jeremy in the Cis Lab. It all began when my cell phone rang and without thinking twice I answered the phone almost unconsciously. Jeremy then approached me and with a laughing tone asked if the phone call was for him I simply replied no, he then demanded switching from a laughing voice to a shouting one since it's not for him I had to leave the room. I then asked Jeremy if the phone call was for you would you have answered it in the Lab and talked on the phone in the lab he replied Yes!, he has the ability to do so. Then demanded I leave the room again with an even louder voice which I did as him and another co-worker began to look at each other smirking at one another in satisfaction as I walked out, I felt as though I was treated as a child and not as a father and a provider of a family who is eager to learn and whose main goal is to graduate from [school redacted] with honors. The least he could have done was treat me as a student as a HUMAN BEING and not shout and intentionally humiliate me in front of studetns I felt naked I felt as though he was a dictator and not a teacher. I came to the lab 3 hours before my actual class would start and walked to school from Michigan and Monroe because of my dedication to improve myself, I value my education I am blessed to come to this school, this school is helping me become more self sufficient, I did not come to school for a confrontation nor to be mocked by someone with more authority than me with his associates as though all I am is a joke. I am a struggling parent of two that is what I am a person who seeks to better his self for his family sake. I admit my behavior was not proper but only after I was humiliated mocked and lied about in front of other students and a staff member who enjoyed it though whole time. Upon my return to the class I asked him if he was racist he's exact response was I don't even know you (chuckling).I then said you don't have to know someone to be racist and asked him why does he feel untouchable as though he was King Ramses and if where he sits in the room has anything to do with it I did not no way or form threaten him. He then picked up the phone dialing campus security claiming I threatened him and he feels he was in danger. I simply got up and exited the room waiting for security in the hallway that day was the first time I felt my blood actually boiling. Upon the arrival of two security guards one which was appointed to me and one to Jeremy. As I was explaining my story the security guard appointed to me the other security guard that was appointed to Jeremy told me I was not able to go in the Lab and if I did I would be escorted off the premises. Without talking to the other security guard without listening to my side of the story only listening to Jeremy's side. He said Jeremy claims I threatened him and I am not allowed in the Lab and the other staff member said the same thing. I felt even more humiliated not able to control the frustration I walked home and missed class that I was suppose to attend. Thinking the whole way home what makes Jeremy's word better than mines I was unable to answer that questions no matter how hard I pondered. I was treated as if I was an outsider not wanted unappreciated and that's the only time in my life I felt like that. School should not make one think that way neither should a teacher when security came and told me I'm not allowed to go into a Lab Room in which I paid for along with every Cis student a Lab room whose staff is funded by the Cis student, is OUTRAGEOUS this is not right it can't be I just want one thing from whom ever is reading this letter or has the ability to change how students are treated and that is Justice for all not just me but for all, one is not better than another simply because of where he sits in the calss, one should not abuse his authority, or see it as power over the students, but should appreciate the fact that he has the ability to teach students that are willing to listen and maybe even change their lives. IF Jeremy or any other staff member has discriminated against you in any Please speak up. Silence is not the answer AGAIN PLEASE SPEAK UP there are teachers who really care find one and explain the incident. Thank you.

I suspect that this particular student is going to find life difficult if he can't get over his apparent belief that if he is rebuked he is being subjected to racism and discrimination. My day just got a bit more surreal, and my belief that I work in a live-action role play of the television show The Office has just been reinforced.

Edit...I have added my dramatic reading to the mix. Enjoy

Seven Years Out of the Trenches

jer_ — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 18:49:00 EDT

Today marks seven consecutive years free from drugs and alcohol. Eighty-four months. Three-hundred, sixty-four weeks. Two-thousand, five-hundred, fifty-seven days. Over sixty thousand hours. Over three and one-half million minutes.

That is, as a friend said to me, a long time without a beer.

Last night, in search of something to play as background noise while I tried to fall asleep, I turned on the most trite and easily ignored thing I could find; I put on Confessions of a Shopaholic. I ended up staying awake throughout the entire thing, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. It wasn’t until Isla Fisher made a statment near the end that I could figure it out; it was because the movie's treatment of addiction really had some resonant moments amidst the goofy action and lame plot points.

The statement in question was (and forgive me, as I’m quoting this from memory here)

When I shop, the world gets better, and the world is better, but then it's not, and I need to do it again.

Simple, but ridiculously accurate to boot. When I was using, I used to make the world that I saw better. When I began, better merely meant more fun or more exciting, and that is an easy mark to hit. Hell, when you are teen, anything makes the world more exciting. So I drank, smoked pot, dropped acid and shrooms, smoked banana peels and various kitchen spices, and generally did whatever I could not to have to face the day without chemical help. It made the world better in my eyes. Then I’d sober up and have to start again.

This is the part where the narrative degenerates into the story of progression; where I needed more and more just to feel good. I won’t bore you with the details, but recognize that it is a cliche for a reason. Things do progress. In my life they progressed to a point where I was getting loaded just to make life tolerable— and by all measures, my life should already have been tolerable. Hell, my life was better than tolerable; I was making a considerable amount of money, I had a nice place to live in a nice neighborhood, two great kids, the physical trappings of suburban life, friends, hobbies, a senior level office job at which I had earned the respect of my co-workers…yet nearly every night I got trashed to make the world better.

So the movie was uncomfortable to watch, because while it showed all of those addict moments in a humorous light, it still showed them. I share pretty liberally from my life as a dope-fiend; but I tend to share the stories that are humorous (at least in hindsight) and not the stories of desperation and shame. It isn’t that I am embarassed by them so much as they do not make for great party stories, but those stories are readily accessible in my mind. You don’t forget stuff like that. You can’t forget it, even if you try (and believe me, there are times that the using is simply to help you forget this stuff, and that doesn’t work either), so it is there for you to deal with.

It is so hard to forget because it isn’t some external stuff that happens to you, it is a pervasive, aggressive feeling of helplessness. I could never impart to you the phobic feeling that comes with addiction; like love, you have to feel it to understand it. You have to know that you should not take the next hit—know it to the very core of your being—then you have to rationalize taking it anyway. You have to convince yourself to do it all the same; using trickery, manipulation, and lies on yourself. And make no mistake, you know that you have just lied. You have to come to an agreement with yourself that you are going to overlook that lie, that you are going to believe your own pathetic rationalization, because it is the only way not to hate yourself for what you are about to do. Then you take that hit, and you go ahead and hate yourself anyway; because the agreement that you made doesn’t make you stupid—you know that your excuses were bullshit. So you live with that, too. You live with the knowledge that you are too pathetic, worthless, and weak to stop using, and you hold onto that until you feel worthless and weak enough to do it all again.

You have to know the feeling of sitting in front of a drink trying to come up with some rationale that will allow you to consume it despite the fact that you have promised everyone you love that you are done and that you have it under control. You see, as an addict, there was never a doubt that I would take the drink, but I had to find some reason that would allow me to do it without being obliterated by the guilt. I DESERVE this drink for putting up with my wife’s shit (amusingly enough, her shit was usually about my drinking, go figure…). I am OWED this drink by a world that puts too much pressure on me. Why shouldn’t I have it, I mean, I’m an adult, right? Then once you have selected your excuse, and once you have agreed to ignore how trite it is as far as excuses go, you can go ahead and take the plunge. The upside is, the more drinks you have, the easier it is to convince yourself of the legitimacy of your excuse; of course, sometime you will sober up, but that is a problem for future you.

The simple fact is, as I ultimately learned, you can never drug yourself up enough, have enough sex, buy enough stuff, or eat enough to make the your perception of the world better. At a certain point though, you recognize that fact, but the world is so intolerable by that time without any chemical “enhancement” that there is no way to just stop. So you continue along in a self-reinforcing cycle of doing things that make you hate yourself more so that you use more to mask the self-loathing so that you hate yourself even more so that you use more…well, you see where I am going here.

So today marks the anniversary of a moment in my life that is amongst my proudest: the first day I stopped using and did not pick back up again. Seven years ago today, I sat on my front porch crying because I had not yet used that day, but I was on the verge of doing so anyway. I was physically shaking from the horror of my certain knowledge that in a few minutes I was going to get up, wander to the cupboard, and get a drink. On this day seven years ago, instead of going to the cupboard, I gave a friend a ride to a 12-step meeting (you know, entirely for his sake, because I certainly didn’t have a problem or anything). Seven years ago today I clung to my sobriety with knuckles as white as printer paper and only noticed years later that my grip had slowly relaxed; that blind obstinance had turned into a way of life. That I was no longer merely not using, but actually recovering. Seven years distant from the trenches of what is known as “active addiction” (a fancy term for the time spent actually using).

So today is something of a dichotomy for me, as much somber retrospection as holiday. It is a celebration of seven years of freedom from actively pursuing my various addictions to be certain, but it is also a day of reminder for me. It is rough, remembering the people I hurt, the things that I have done, and the feelings I felt through over a decade of abusing drugs and alcohol; but it sure feels nice to have stopped being that person. Today, I will celebrate my clean-time, and I will strive to make the rest of the year my time of remembrance.

Now, to quote my friend Dave, back to working on getting day two-thousand, five-hundred, fifty-eight…

Conclave 2009 Report

jer_ — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 20:35:00 EDT

The Good
Generally speaking, ConClave continued to be the same sort of fun that it has been since I began attending; it’s a great chance to hang out with friends I don’t get to see nearly often enough, but every time I question the hefty price tag with minimal return. It’s not as if there’s NO return. I mean, without ’Clave, I wouldn’t see a group of Chicagoans that I really enjoy seeing. It was awesome to see Gooch, Dawn, Greg, Leanne, and a bunch of other people from the windy city that I’m probably forgetting right this minute (although it was a bummer not to see Terrance, Peter, et al). Additionally, it was great to finally meet Eric Coleman and members of Toyboat face to face, even if I did manage to miss their show. I realize that I simply wouldn’t get to see them otherwise, so for that, I really do thank the con.

Likewise, there was some really interesting programming on the list. Friday, Dawn, Greg and I busted some boards with our hands...


Greg’s Forearm Smash	Dawn Breaking a Board

Jer Breaking a Board	Greg Breaking a Board

Saturday we caught part of the “Bill and Barry Reunited” panel (which I now wish I’d caught more of, very entertaining) and the Space Time Improv panel (where I was inspired to point out the improv “actor” that dropped the improv-comedy-verboten “No” four times in one sketch). Also, hung out with new friend Josh, and I hope to keep in contact because he is fucking hilarious. Finished the night clibming a wall of cocks, then went home for sleep. Sunday Ger and I participated in an open call (auditions and interviews) for a music video shoot in which both of us danced (she, wonderfully—I, less so). In general, while I didn’t make much time to go to the programming, what programming there was I found interesting and enjoyable.

The Bad
I have the same complaints that I’ve had since I found this event; where does the money go? The consuite was utterly abysmal. There was NO food there at any time. At one point, Greg ran upstairs to grab some chips, then came down and had to (try to) buy some from the gift shop, because there were none. Nada. Nil. I stopped in several times and found a similar problem. My understanding is that if I were to time everything perfectly I could arrive in the suite in time to catch one of a few "meals" that existed for scant moments all weekend. This is not a way to run a consuite. I have an expectation that for a $50 price of admission, there will at least be a small handful of snacks kicking around. Of course, this is nothing new; I’ve had the same complaints every year. ’Clave just doesn’t care to spend money on the ConSuite.

The Ugly
Despite the longer list of ’good’ than ’bad’, I’ll not be returning to ’Clave next year. Not as long as the Dorsai Irregulars are still running "security" for the convention. Why? Imagine, if you will, if a organization with all of the characteristics of the Department of Homeland security maintaining order at an event like a convention. My first experience with them was moments after I registered. I walked through their checkpoint with badge prominently displayed on my chest and closed can of Monster in my left hand. As I walked past I was “halted” by a hand held in front of me in the classic stop configuration. The hand was owned by an elderly fellow who then finished his sentence (just a few seconds lost here) then turned his eyes to me, looked at my badge, then allowed me by. In all, it was less of an inconvenience and more a matter of attitude at this point. Three steps later, I glance into the Dealer’s Room as I walked past and heard a shout from behind me.

DI Douche: Hey, if you aren’t a dealer or wearing this (pointing at his beret) you can’t bring that drink in there.
Me: I’m not, I’m merely looking in the dealer’s room, so fuck off.

My second exposure to them was later that evening when I (again, badge prominently pinned on chest …a yellow card in the midst of an expansive black hoodie sans sleeves) walked through the rather congested choke point (congested, mind you, by the 8 or 9 DI folks clustered in the hall joking around with one another) and was halted by a hand placed in the center of my chest. Not a fan of unsolicited physical contact, I peeled the hand off of my by the little finger and regarded the owner of the hand with a look designed to indicate my displeasure and the phrase, “That is not a very good idea if you like your hand.” My badge was reviewed and I walked past without further incident.

I later stood in the hall and watched the DI accost a female friend in an entirely unnecessary, unprovoked, and probably illegal physical manner. I also heard tell of the same happening to several others. So overboard was the security that even the open event that happened late in the mid day on Sunday had to have someone escort unbadged participants past an overzealous gaggle of berets.

This is not new to this year, but each year it becomes more and more an issue. It should be noted that Penguicon, ConFusion, and (to the best of my knowledge) ConVocation manage to run remarkably larger events with more attendees, more participants, and more function space without security at all, let alone the self-appointed mercenaries of fandom. Next year, ’Clave will not be getting my money, but I will be emailing the registration and chair email addresses when I *would* have purchased a membership to explain why I am not going to be providing them my money so long as the DI is running security. I like the con, and I would LOVE to help them out in any way that I can...but I simply cannot bring myself to continue to support a convention that has such disdain for its community that it treats its patrons so poorly—no con should require paying attendees go through a TSA checkpoint to see the show.

Gamers Outreach Foundation's Troublesome Finances

jer_ — Mon, 18 May 2009 23:03:00 EDT

This is the fourth (final?) part of an ongoing piece. If you have not read the initial article, the followup, or the most recent installment, I would suggest reading them before continuing, as it will most likely add context to the proceedings...

Gamers Outreach Foundation has finally made available their 2009 financial (again made available here in .xls [Office 2003] or .ods [OpenOffice 2.4] formats). Without much more ado than has already happened leading to this point, let us dive in, shall we?

While I commend Zach for the relative expedience with which the numbers were released (relative: from the Latin word rela meaning “we only asked over a month ago” and tive meaning “thanks for finally coughing SOMETHING up”), the fact of the matter is that the problems I expressed regarding the LAST run of numbers is even worse here. For our purposes, these problems can best be split into two categories: those problems of presentation and those of poor financial practice. Let me first address those of presentation, as they are the quickest and easiest to speak of and dismiss.

Presentation

Before we address the horrifying method by which GoF has chosen to display its financial situation, I would like you, the reader, to take a moment to look at one of the above linked documents, then check out this document here (fast forward to pages 44 and 45 to start the financial bit). Ignore the fancy presentation and focus on the important bit: an understandable series of numbers. This is an important concept. When comparing the financial reporting methods of the two organizations, one certainly gives a feeling of comfort while the other does quite the opposite. One imparts information in a reasonable fashion that is discernible not just to professionals, but even to laypersons like myself. I took the opportunity to float GoF’s reporting past two friends who are accountants by both trade and schooling. One laughed and pointed out that the paperwork done would be abysmal if it were merely to balance a checkbook, let alone to run the books for an organization. The other merely looked at the document for a while and gave up entirely. I almost donated a copy of Quickbooks Pro to the organization, for my part.

Ridiculous accounting practices aside, I am far more concerned with the numbers. This is something I have observed more than once in the past, but it bears repeating: the team that is managing this event is simply not up to the task. They are enthusiastic, and many are hard working, but neither enthusiasm nor work ethic make up for just understanding how to run an event; that you have to learn, and it is pointless to learn the hard way.

And they are learning the hard, expensive way.

Let us begin with the notion of purchasing retail. Let me explain this in no uncertain terms. If you are an organization buying things in bulk and you buy them at retail price from a big box store, you are an incompetent planner and should be immediately fired and replaced by someone that knows what they are doing. It is that serious. Why? Let’s look at some numbers: over $14,500 was spent at Best Buy on monitors, XBoxes, and cables. If we make the almost assuredly inaccurate assumption that there is no way to get the electronic devices loaned, donated, or partially donated, surely we can do better than 10% off of Best Buy’s radically marked up prices? Well, I spent 10 minutes on the phone with Best Buy this afternoon on behalf of my fictional charity organization and managed to arrange for 10% off, free shipping, 10 donated 23" widescreen monitors (brand unspecified) and cabling included free of charge. Depending on what monitors the charity purchased, that is a savings of somewhere in the vicinity of $2,000 or so.

That was in 10 minutes; imagine if I spent some time on this. I am convinced that, given some time, I could have found a supplier for monitors that would donate the gear for free. Similarly, Microsoft is fairly famous for the freedom with which they throw money at charitable causes. Several years ago, we filled out a web form on behalf of a local church that wanted to start teaching basic office skills to parishioners that were displaced from their job. Microsoft gave a site license for several pieces of software (to include Office 97, Windows 98, and several other pieces) and a grant with which to purchase PCs. These are, of course, the first thoughts and impressions; I’m assuming that sufficiently dedicated folks spending a bit of time would be able to find dozens of other solutions.

At the end of the day, even renting equipment would have been a better solution than ending up with $6,500 in the bank and $23,200 in debt at the end of the second year. That is nearly $17,000 in debt. Let me put this in context: Last week, I bought a breakfast sandwich at McDonalds on the way to work. It came to $4.82. I paid with a five and dropped the 18 cents in the donation container for the Ronald McDonald House; so as of last week, my charitable contribution was about $17,000.18 more than that of GoF.

Clearly I’m being facetious, but the point stands. The organization is running at around 145% overhead. A really good charity runs at about 10% overhead; a poor one at around 50%. An organization that exhausts every dollar of income during the year is not really a charity at all.

I don’t really know what to say about one that spends nearly half again as much as it makes.

There really isn’t more to be said that I have not already said. The organization is in dire straits. There is a culture of wanton spending and an attitude that says “more money will arrive” with nary a thought to the source or possible budgeting of said money. The spend-spend-spend viewpoint needs to change, if this organization is to be considered an actual charity. Zach, Rusty…it is time to fix what is broken, or give up on the idea of having a charity and just continue to have your fun XBox party.

Gamers Outreach Foundation's Troublesome Finances

jer_ — Thu, 14 May 2009 16:28:00 EDT

This is the third part of an ongoing piece. If you have not read the initial article or the followup, I would suggest reading them before continuing, as it will most likely add context to the proceedings...

The financials have started making their appearances. The good news is, there is virtually nothing that would indicate illicit, fraudulent, or otherwise actionable behavior. The bad news? Well, the bad news is that the organization is in desperate need of a financial overhaul…

On May the 13th, Zach sent over a financial review of the 2008 Gamers for Giving event cycle (available here, untouched in .xls [Office 2003] or .ods [OpenOffice 2.4] formats). Let me begin by saying, with as little snark as I can muster, that my dearest hope is that whatever financial reporting they do officially (if and when that ever happens), it is not done by the same person who generated this report. I have worked with countless budgets done by amateurs and professionals alike, and while this is certainly not the absolute worst (I am the creator of the the worst I have ever seen), it is not a particularly distant second to that dubious honor. Nonetheless, I made a valiant attempt to wade through the mess that is this charity’s financial situation.

Outflow

This is going to be, out of necessity, a relatively macro view of the financial situation because the state of the bookkeeping prevents anything more significant from taking place. Let us examine, first, the expenses (forgive the .jpg):

As you can see, marketing efforts are currently making up a whopping 39% of the overall expenses; nearly double the amount actually donated to a charity (20%). Another disproportionately large expenditure would be that of “special guests”. Nearly 10% of the money spent by the organization was spent on one single guest, in all, some $1,300 for food, airfare and hotel fees for the guest and his companion. Even a cursory viewing of the report shows that this is an extraordinarily top-heavy organization, and that is a significant problem.

It is also fairly significant to note that, to the best of my knowledge (and I would love to be proved wrong on this count), some of the largest expenses were not shopped around for bids. Specifically I speak in reference to the web site (an insanely overpriced Drupal money-sink created by a person reported to be friendly with several board members) and the monitors (purchased at retail from Best Buy). That is purely preposterous, and should be rectified immediately.

Finally, it bears mentioning that the prizes are inaccurately represented here. The prizes for the LAN events are not reported here because they were picked up at no cost through sponsorships. The reporting inaccuracies are exacerbated by no mention of the $1,000 first prize and $500 second prize for the Halo 2v2 tournament. If that were added to the existing prizes, the resulting amount (nearly $1,800 in prizes) would account for about 53% of GfG’s inflow. The prizes, it would appear, are entirely too rich for the income that the event generates. It is simple arithmetic. If you are putting 180 people in the event at $25 per head, giving a pair of them $1000 and a pair of them $500 is entirely too large a percentage of your take.

Inflow

There is actually very little to say on the topic of income. As you can see, comparatively little money is actually generated by the Gamers Outreach portion of the event; an amount almost equaled by sponsorship income. In fact, half of the revenue generated was done so by the LAN side of the house. It is important to note that this is largely because MPCon was able to host the LAN using infrastructure that they own or that they were able to procure for the event. As MPCon and GoF have now split, the only way the GoF will be able to continue to create even as much income as it has would be in finding sources for free LAN infrastructure (such as an alternate organization like MPCon or through donations/sponsorships). The only other rational method would be through a gradual building process by which hardware is incrementally purchased or leased as the event grows.

Conclusions

It is difficult to come to any real conclusions without access to better records and the most recent event financials. Given only the 2008 event, however, in a vacuum, some summarization can be accomplished. The 2008 event could be described best as a limited success. It made several convincing wins, not the least of which being the establishment of some name recognition and the ability to make some small donation to a local charity. It did overspend egregiously, and given the few expenditures listed on the expense report that can be attributed to next year, the overspending is unlikely to have been reigned in before the 2009 event (again, this is pure conjecture, as those reports have not yet made their way to me.)

As an event planner, I would make the following recommendations:

Place someone in charge of the finances that is trained in exactly that, financial reporting. Even if it costs some overhead, it will save a bundle in the future.
Place someone in charge of managing the event that knows about running an event. The skills required to run a company are not the same skills that are required to run an event. While there is some overlap, there is a reason that CEOs pay project managers and event managers massive wads of cash to run events. Those skills exist for free within your community; harness that. Zach, you have clearly shown that you have a knack for publicity and getting noticed. You’ve also shown that you do not have the knack for running an event. Get someone involved that does and, if you are really excited about being hands-on, learn from them. Continuing this way, however, is a sure recipe for disaster.
Get a budget. Adhere to that budget. At this point, the organization is less a charity and more a toy. Unless the next batch of financials report something amazingly different than these, any donations that you do make are largely accidental. Without sponsorships, your 2008 donation would have been a scant $1,400. Flying by the seat of your pants is great for a regular organization, but when you are purporting yourself to be a charity, you have a fiduciary responsibility. You are failing in that responsibility.

While this is, by no means, a comprehensive list of fixes, taking these steps would set the charity on the road to actually behaving like a responsible, productive organization.

As a responsible citizen and donater of both time and money, I would recommend that until the above steps are taken, those with a desire to donate money to a charity should find a worthwhile cause and send your money that way. These financials indicate that only one-third of the money that makes its way into the “charity” makes it out to a those who need it. That means that two-thirds is spent on overhead, and indiscriminately spent at that. If you are simply looking to enjoy a Halo 3 tournament, then by all means, spend your charitable dollars with the Gamers Outreach Foundation. Otherwise, you would be better served visiting Starlight (Starlight's financials)and ensure that your dollars make a difference

Please check back, as I will continue to update as this year’s financials make their way into the public eye and (hopefully) repudiate the above statements. I look forward to the chance to admit that I am wrong and that the organization has entirely reformed their methodologies. GoFЉit is time to repair some things, fellas.

The saga continues, read more in part 4, in which the 2009 financials are released!

Gamers Outreach Foundation's Troublesome Finances

jer_ — Tue, 12 May 2009 02:01:00 EDT

This is the second part of an ongoing piece. If you have not read the initial article, read it here before continuing, as it will most likely add context to the messages below...

Well, Zach has come out of his relative silence regarding the issues and concerns that exist surrounding his organization's charitable efforts. Below is his response, in its entirety, along with my thoughts on the matter. I struggled for some time with the proper handling of this situation, and opted to address some of his points in mid-stream so as to enhance clarity. Other, larger, points I saved until the end to address, so that they could reference his letter in totality. My hope is that this partial solution does not exceptionally detract from readability. With that said, on to the letter…

Jer,

I understand you have concerns regarding GOF's financial transparency. I said I'd be more than willing to provide you with (to the best of my abilities) information regarding our organization's current financial status. However, I don't feel referring to our upcoming Halo tournament / LAN as "EmbezzleLAN" is at all appropriate. I know you have close ties with MPcon, and I can understand not being happy over the fact that our LAN is taking place the weekend before MPcon's July event. However, insinuating embezzlement is an entirely new level of seriousness, and frankly, I would go as far to say that your recent blog borderlines defamation of character. Your blog is written in such a manner that seems to suggest Gamers Outreach has purposely been attempting to hide or misrepresent its financial details, when factually, that is not true at all. Questioning efficiency is one thing, but embezzlement? That's fairly extreme.

Let me begin by stating that, in hindsight, the title I had chosen for Sunday's article was poorly selected. "EmbezzleLAN" is a colloquialism that had been coined in reference to your con jokingly when issues first had arisen regarding the monetary situation. It was with tongue firmly in cheek that I entitled the piece as such, however, the issue is entirely too serious for such a jest to be acceptable. For that I apologize. It bears mention, however, that at no point in the piece did I accuse you of embezzlement; and while I do not consider the notion outside of the realm of possibility, that is merely my opinion—and a largely ignorant one, since I have no financials with which to evaluate such a claim. The title was needlessly prejudicial to the audience, and as such has been changed.

That having been said, there is absolutely no defamation of character. I feel entirely confident that not a single statement that I have made is untrue. I did not suggest that GoF has been misrepresenting its financials. I reported the facts. The fact that when even YOU read the facts, you come to the same conclusions that I have should be a warning sign that something is amiss. I have left the conclusions up to the reader; you, as the reader, have come to the conclusion that things look dicey over there. All I can do is applaud your astute powers of observation.

Near the end of your blog (point 2.) you state "Even interested staffers of the events in question have been unsuccessful in obtaining these financials after months of attempts." In actuality, no one from MPcon has ever requested to see our written financial records prior to Jeff making a request via e-mail on April 21, 2009. (See attached SS: Jeff's Request). If MPcon's concerns have existed for such a long period of time, (as you have stated in your blog) why didn't Jeff represent the interests of MPcon and ask to see our books during our first board meeting? It would seem to me that if MPcon was as bewildered as you say they were, they would've wanted to see our books back in 08 when they agreed to merge with us. Rusty gave a financial report at each of our meetings, at which time, Jeff could have easily asked to see specific numbers / receipts on paper. As a board member, Jeff was more than welcome to look over the individual expenses and receipts of our organization. Jeff was also sent our Form 990.

This is, without a doubt, an absolute lie. To begin with, I asked for the financials of the organization on the 16th of April on behalf of MPCon during a discussion with you in the parking lot of the Fairlane Campus of the University of Michigan-Dearborn. Prior to that, Jeff had requested the records more than once verbally; at least once in my presence. The mistake made was in not getting the request in writing. Unfortunately, the past is the past, and we cannot change that. I think it is safe to say that all of our requests for information have been thoroughly documented at this point; so why do we not yet have the records?

Prior to the aforementioned sentence, you state "...however I have been unable to get a copy of the financials despite having asked for them. " This statement does not properly represent the timing of your request in relation to the time at which you posted your blog. You asked for financial information on May 9, 2009 via facebook (SS attached). Your blog was posted the following day. With consideration to the timing of your request in relation to your post, citing the fact that you didn't receive a response from me regarding our financial information (on a weekend) as means for evidence to support your insinuations / accusations seems unfair to me, if not faulty.

Ignoring, for the moment, my verbal request in the past; is it safe to assume that you, having now certainly seen my request, are including those financials in this missive? Let us read on and see! The suspense is killing me…

I have never had to send our financial information (besides the Form 990) out before, and I am currently investigating the proper way to relay the information to you that insures the privacy of our donors. In the meantime, I will try to address a few of the specific concerns cited in your blog with the files I currently have on my PC. I know you'd probably like to see more—but I don't have a scanner at my home to scan all of our receipts. Here's what I can offer at the immediate moment…

Well, better late than never, I suppose. Perhaps you could have been searching for that information since the 21st of April (which is when even YOU admit to having finally heard a request for the data.) Further, should you have to protect the privacy of your donors from a board member that asked for this information on the 21st?

"Things started to seem a bit fishy immediately after the first event. While it was being widely reported that $15,000 was made for the Autism Society and even Zach's own press [screen cap] indicates that the event cleared roughly that much, word was filtering back to MPCon that as little as $7,500 might actually have been donated, the rest going to overhead…then the number $6,000 was used…then less…"

"By the time a donation was made that was actually $4,000 of the $14,000 in revenues, the folks at MPCon found themselves very confused. If they bore the brunt of the infrastructure costs, where did all of the money go? "

GFG 1 served as both an event to help generate funds for the ASW, as well as the kick off event to help jumpstart GOF. Revenue from the event was roughly $15,000.00. Part of the funds were spent on event expenses, part of the funds went towards repaying GOF start up costs, and the rest went to the ASW. Loreine Wynn from the ASW was aware of the fact that throughout the event planning process, GOF had expenses it would need to pay. Our fundraising goal was $7,500.00. We were not able to meet our goal, however, we were able to generate $4,000.00 which was directly donated to the ASW. We've never hidden that fact from anyone who's asked "how much money from the event was donated to ASW?" We wouldn't have made a giant check (see attached—022) to present to the ASW had we been trying to hide that fact. Shane from PWNED Radio has photos and video footage from our post-event interview with ASW regarding the money we donated.

It should be also noted that MPcon did not bear the brunt of infrastructure costs associated with GFG 1 as you state they did. GOF paid for the room rental. GOF also paid for our special guest's hotel rooms / plane flights ( that is where my loan repayment comes from. GOF did not have the money before the event—see Vic's plane ticket—I also lent GOF money to pay for printing flyers for the event). Additionally, GOF paid for the majority of the materials MPcon said they needed for the LAN. (tape, pens, etc).

You will have to forgive my disbelief. I have no financial information from your organization through which I could verify or argue that point. Further, your explanation indicates a somewhat loose definition of “infrastructure” in my opinion. I will be happy to debate which organization bore the brunt of those costs when and if financials are ever provided. In point of fact, however, this is the most minor of quibbles; so much so that I am more than willing to entirely concede the point if it will focus your attention on the much more pressing issues at hand; your actual financial situation.

"...a $1,200 loan made to the charity from Zach—presumably the result of rigorously saving minimum-wage paychecks for months. "

Your presumption is correct. I served my time at GameStop.

"$10,000 went to a down-payment for a website."

See attached invoices from Acro Media (where Rusty's loan comes from that has been partially repaid).[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

"Nearly $3,000 went to unexplained 'fundraising expenses'. "

Such as supplies from office depot, u-haul truck to transport monitors from port huron at GFG 1, gamers outreach t-shirts, (we were working with underground printing at the time—mythlogic had suggested we go with them. Now however, Kiaeneto donates our clothing items) tax software to report form 990—etc.

"items like XBox 360s and televisions or spending tens of thousands of dollars on a new web presence"

See document7, which lists the Hanspree monitors we purchased along with the Xbox 360 vga cables. The receipt for the Xbox 360s is physical, and is not on my PC at the moment. As a game industry charity, our program expenses do sometimes involve purchasing gaming equipment. Whether it be to aid in fundraising efforts, (i.e.—we believe we can make a significant return on the Xbox 360s) buying games for our gaming kiosks, (currently working with Howard Medical to create a cart based off of their HI-Prodigy design http://www.howard-medical.com/carts/poc/hi-prodigy/— we also have discussed using the Xbox 360s / monitors to outfit some of the kiosks) it's what we do. To help give us a jumpstart, Rusty offered to loan us the funding needed (at no interest) to purchase supplies and equipment. At our last board meeting, (which Jeff was present at) we discussed establishing a budget for the organization now that we have acquired funds thanks to GFG. A budget will be established once we have determined the price of our mobile gaming carts so we can allocate our resources appropriately, slowly pay back our loans, and begin growing and becoming more efficient.

"The email was met with a rather ominious silence for over a month— until MPCon settled on a date for their Summer LAN at which point the old saw about no good deed going unpunished was illustrated by the staff of Gamers Outreach."

The LAN has been scheduled for the past few months. I should know—Gamers Outreach is the organization that had reserved the ballroom. It wasn't until the recent e-mail threads emerged that our philosophical differences became completely apparent. Originally, we had hoped to run the summer event as a GOF event, being presented by MPcon. However, with lingering tensions, we felt it best to just completely hand over the EMU event to MPcon. Still wanting to host a summer event, we decided to host a smaller event to test our potential GFG venue. The unfortunate circumstance (believe it or not) is that in order for us to host a summer event, the earliest it can be done is the weekend before MPcon (without our event being on the same weekend as MPcon). We'd like to host a fall event (assuming the summer goes well) and we feel like moving into the August / Sept time frame starts to cut into that hope.

Jer, if you're just looking to harass GOF or sling mud around, than ultimately any effort I make to send you receipts / explanations is futile. Perhaps you think we're a bunch of amateurs running an organization, fine. Perhaps you believe our organization isn't very efficient. Fine. Maybe you aren't interested in our initiatives. Fine. But I am saddened to know that you would question my honesty and integrity. I have always tried to be respectful of you when you have offered your opinions on various topics. If your intentions are to accuse GOF of embezzlement, I would've appreciated you coming to me first and asking for receipts vs posting accusations based off of suspicion on a publicly accessible blog.

Regards,

Zach

Attachments: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11]

I have saved the remainder of my commentary for here; wherein I will summarize the salient points. Zach, you still have not provided the financial records for your organization to me, to any of the others that have asked, or even to a member of your board who has been asking for more than enough time. Surely you do not have to find a way to shield sensitive information from a member of your own board, do you? If not, why has every member of your board not been supplied with this information. I will ask again, why is it so difficult for anybody to see these records that you profess to be so easy for anyone to obtain?

Of similar importance is the following; why are you so focused on (nonexistent) accusations of embezzlement and fraud? Let me explain. The worst-case scenario is that all of the secrecy and hidden expenses exist to hide some form of fraudulent or otherwise illicit activity. That is a pretty bad worst-case. The bad part, however, is that the best-case scenario is that you guys are mismanaging a charitable organization to such an alarming degree that it is able to donate far less than 50% of its take to an actual charity. That's right, for each dollar that finds its way to a charity through your organization, more than one dollar does NOT go to a charity.

Worse, because your organization steadfastly refuses to allow anyone but your father (and presumably you) to see the books, there is no way of gauging what the exact percentage of mismanagement might be. At best, we can work with the numbers we have been given: last year's gross receipts were just shy of $28,000. You donated $4,000. That means that you managed to hurl a whopping 15% (rounded up) at an actual charity. This year, my expectation is that it will be a lower percentage yet; but let us assume for the sake of argument that you manage to triple last year's abysmal numbers: that is 45%. That is, for those not especially great at math, still less than 50%. For my money, any organization that cannot put at least half of its inbound cash into the hands of some needy group…well, that organization is not really a charity in my opinion.

Finally, the very real concern remains that your father is on the board, is the treasurer, and holds the note on the loan. That is, at best, a grotesque conflict of interest. It is, at worst, insane negligence. The Better Business Bureau has a Guide for Charity Evaluation, and standard number five discusses No transaction(s) in which any board or staff members have material conflicting interests with the charity resulting from any relationship or business affiliation. You know, like a huge loan? Or a series of big loans?

Zach, you summarize your email with statements casting aspersions upon my intentions and implying that this is a mean-spirited attack or an act of vengance for a perceived wrong. I will summarize my message by restating the facts: your “charity” is withholding information from the public and, indeed, from its own board. Your “charity” is plainly mismanaging its money in some way; I cannot tell if it is willfully or simply negligently, but there is no question that it is happening. Finally, there is a distinct conflict of interest at the highest level in your organization. Your insinuation that there is some “defamation of character” and the admonitions by your cronies that I am participating in “slander” are amusing, wrong, and unacceptable. I am stating the facts as they exist. The solution, if you feel my numbers are in error, is to address those; preferably in the form of publicly available financial records.

This is posted publicly, as was my previous article, in an effort to ensure that this entire process is handled as transparently as possible. I have absolutely nothing to hide; it is my hope that you will take this opportunity to open up your finances similarly.

But I will not be holding my breath.

The saga continues, read more in part 3, in which the 2007/2008 books are released!

Gamers Outreach Foundation's Troublesome Finances

jer_ — Sun, 10 May 2009 17:48:00 EDT

One of the chief benefits of serving as staff, consultant, and—oftener than not—conspirator for a number of events in southeast Michigan is that I love the work. I seriously love muscling the logistics of an event into place, bending contracts to my will, theorizing about methodological improvements, and seeing the final product blossom in front of me in the form of hundreds of happy attendees. I love it in a way that I never thought I would be able to back when I was doing it for a living with sleazy, money-and-accolade grabbing executives. Doing it as a hobby, generally speaking, insulates me from those sort of slick marketing type of folk; the sort I dealt with almost exclusively back before I dropped out of the corporate drama factory.

Note well that I said ‘generally speaking’ because it becomes somewhat important as the following story unfolds. Let me tell you the story of a beloved Michigan event and the ‘charity’ that is trying to run roughshod over it.

History

Before I begin, let me go back to the beginning and share some of the history—if for no other reason than context. A decade ago, a LAN party was started in the basement of a member of a Team Fortress clan known as the Ministry of Pain (]MP[) and over the course of the next ten years, the event increased in size until MPCon was forced to move onto the campus of the University of Michigan - Dearborn to accomodate the 150+ gamers requiring seats. The size has steadily increased until, having outgrown the available space in Dearborn, in 2007 the 300 person lan was moved to the student center of Eastern Michigan University.

Also in 2007, video game controversy was brewing at Saline High School, where student Zach Wigal attempted to host a Halo 2 Tournament at his school. After being given permission initially, the tournament was cancelled by school officials—the mature rating and ‘first-person shooter’ style of the game was deemed inappropriate for a high school. Not one to have his ambition so easily thwarted, Zach recognized the losing battle inherent in fighting for a video game, and cleverly formulated a new plan. He would create a charitable face for his console party, and under the auspices of raising money for charity, he would far more easily find venues and love from the press. The Gamers Outreach Foundation was thus born.

Recognizing how much time and energy would be required to build his own infrastructure and visibility in the gaming community, Zach saw the benefit in teaming with an older, more established organization and approached MPCon to form an alliance. MPCon, having done such a partnership in the past with Penguicon and excited about the prospect of raising money for charity opted to joined forces, and in 2008 the first Gamers for Giving took place, ostensibly to benefit the Washtenaw County chapter of the National Autism society.

If It Looks Like a Duck...

Things started to seem a bit fishy immediately after the first event. While it was being widely reported that $15,000 was made for the Autism Society and even Zach's own press [screen cap] indicates that the event cleared roughly that much, word was filtering back to MPCon that as little as $7,500 might actually have been donated, the rest going to overhead…then the number $6,000 was used…then less…

Fortunately, even if nobody is able to see the most recent numbers, last year's IRS990 has been made available, so some of the numbers can be evaluated, even if they can only be done so in aggregate. It shows gross receipts of nearly $28,000 and costs equal to a whopping $21,000. With MPCon supplying the entire infrastructure (switches, cabling, power lines, etc), and with GoF having obtained no tangible assets to speak of, the event planner in me finds it hard to fathom how I would go about spending $21,000, were I running the event. I just cannot find a place for the money, not rationally at least. To put this amount in context, I work with an annual event that spends somewhere in the neighborhood of $30,000 for its entire event. This number includes free food, beverages, and beer all weekend long as well as lectures, guests, flights, hotel rooms, advertising, and all other expenses; all for over 1000 people. Zach's ‘charity’ manages to spend two-thirds of the money to supply one-third of the value to one-third of the people. In a strange way, that is impressive.

But where does this money go? Well, according to the aforementioned 990, over $5,000 went to repay ‘loans’ from Zach and his father, Rusty, to the organization; to include a $1,200 loan made to the charity from Zach—presumably the result of rigorously saving minimum-wage paychecks for months. Nearly $3,000 went to unexplained ‘fundraising expenses’. $10,000 went to a down-payment for a website. Of course, each of these items could very well be explicable; but Rusty and Zach's silence about the financial situation speaks volumes to those willing to listen.

By the time a donation was made that was actually $4,000 of the $14,000 in revenues, the folks at MPCon found themselves very confused. If they bore the brunt of the infrastructure costs, where did all of the money go? What were these mysterious costs, and why is this information not being shared? Why is a charitable organization making a $10,000 down payment on a website? Why does it cost so much to do something that MPCon has been doing for a much greater profit for years?

These questions have still, to this day, never been answered, however, to help allay these concerns as well as those of general mismanagement of the organization, a member of MPCon leadership was invited onto the Gamers Outreach Foundation board. Moving forward, economic transparency was promised and cost efficiency was made a priority. At this time, the organization also obtained its 501(c)(3) status, meaning no longer would it be as outwardly apparent what percentage of the event's proceed were going to charity and what percentage were going to infrastructure. Transparency suddenly became of the utmost importance.

Things Become...Hazy

This year, the two orgs joined forces yet again for another Gamers for Giving event, increasing the attendance draw considerably and, consequently, the income draw. The event was, by all reckonings, a complete success. Well, by all reckonings save for the financial tally; and this is where things get foggy. Zach reports a $17,834 windfall [screen cap] despite an alleged $23,000 debt.* It should be noted that, at the time this information became public (and I use the term ‘public’ in the loosest possible sense), I offered the suggestion (in an advisory capacity) to MPCon leadership that it might be time to part ways. As it turns out, my advice was largely unnecessary, as the staff had already come to much the same conclusion, and in late March, MPCon expressed its desire to part ways with GoF citing philosophical differences.

A Frog Helps a Scorpion Across a River...

So that brings us to the present. A present in which MPCon indicated its desire to distance itself from Gamers Outreach in order to operate independently. As part of the request to separate, an offer was made by MPCon; they would happily continue to donate profits from their independent events to the charity and they would be willing to run the LAN for the Gamers for Giving annual headline event at cost. The email was met with a rather ominious silence for over a month— until MPCon settled on a date for their Summer LAN, at which point the old saw about no good deed going unpunished was illustrated by the staff of Gamers Outreach. The following day, amidst much fanfare, Gamers Outreach announced their event; scheduled the weekend before MPCon's and at a $5 lower rate.

The optimists in the audience might want to consider this an unfortunate coincidence but those fellow cynics surely recognize this for the petulant act that it is. True cynics might even point out that if the organization could not manage to make money at the greater rate, dropping the rate seems an interesting choice. Is this simply an unfortunate selection, or an attempted attack upon an organization doing its best to protect itself and its reputation from the very real issues surrounding some Enron-style accounting? Either way, some very large concerns still remain with the allegedly charitable organization:

Where is the money going? The events take in a rather large sum of money, and manages to spend an even larger sum. Much of it can be chalked up to mismanagement like purchasing extraordinarily depreciable items like XBox 360s and televisions or spending ten thousand dollars on a new web presence (yes, for the record, while the jury is out on the exact amount, the number $10,000 is being pretty commonly thrown around), but even gross mismanagement does not excuse losses and expenditures the likes of which they are seeing.
Where is the transparency? Zach and his father (the treasurer of the organization and holder of the massive interest-free loan under which the org sits) have sworn time and again that the books are open to anyone, however I have been unable to get a copy of the financials despite having asked for them. Even interested staffers of the events in question have been unsuccessful in obtaining these financials after months of attempts. When an organization is eating massive losses and hiding the books, it does not speak well of the intentions of the management of the organization.
Wait, why is the executive director's father a board member, treasurer, the only person with access to the books (apparently), and the holder of the massive loan? I would love to expand more upon this, but—well, the question really sits on its own. Explain that?

Conclusions? Or More Questions?

The fact of the matter is, there are a number of outstanding questions floating around out there, not the least of which being what is happening with the money. When money flows in, disappears into a black box, then does or does not flow out at the whim of a 17 year old kid—well, it isn't evidence, but it is an awfully smokey gun. For my money, I will avoid spending my charitable dollars with any organization whose overhead cost is somewhere in the vicinity of 65% (or, if the debt numbers are to be believed, greater than 100%). I will even more strenuously avoid spending my charitable dollars with any organization whose overhead costs are incalculable due to the excessively private financial processes they have enacted. Look for more to come when and if they ever open up their financials so that I can verify some of these expenses; but I would not hold your breath.

* The $23,000 number is as much a mystery as any other number involved. I have personally heard Zach himself utter the number (as well as others near it), however it is unclear what exactly it is that the number refers to. Transparency of finances would help here, theoretically.

The saga continues, read more in part 2, in which Zach responds.

Penguicon 7 as an Attendee

jer_ — Wed, 06 May 2009 22:11:00 EDT

As I’ve discussed elsewhere, my weekend began with a wedding. Mine. That was a minor miscalculation in terms of time management. It did, however, kick the weekend off on a high note. The weekend was too long and packed with too much stuff for me to just do my typical “chronological dump”, so I’m going to try to hit the highlights.

Let me lead off by saying that there is absolutely no way I could have enjoyed this weekend at all were it not for Ron Blanchett and my new wife. Early Friday afternoon my left knee (affectionately known as the worse of two bad knees) had decided that all of my up and down the stairs action was too much, and gave out. I came very close to shoulder rolling down the stairs. It hurt a LOT. Shit, it hurts a lot NOW. Ron and Ger became my legs for the weekend. When I needed something, Ger was right there. When any of the A/V needs popped up or there was something time sensitive to be done that was far from my present location, Ron sprung into action. Seriously, I cannot say this enough, Ron fucking saved the con. At least, he saved the part of it that I handle, and that’s a not insignificant portion. Add to this the massive and profoundly useful efforts by Randy Bradakis and Chuck Child (the former in his role as “fixer of all that is not facility related” and the latter in his role as “assistant to the hotel liaison” and “budget dude extraordinaire”) and I was actually able to ENJOY much more of the convention than last year, where I filled pretty much all of the above roles.

But what were those things that I got to enjoy?

Dr Horrible’s Sing-a-long Blog
Many people pointed out that I was insane to manage the facilities for a convention while I was planning and executing a wedding at the same time. What they don’t realize is to what degree Ger was insane too. She was producing and directing a live presentation of Joss Whedon’s Internet hit. I was pretty excited about seeing good friends sing and dance along, but I had no illusions that the show would be “good” per se.

Oh my god was I wrong. The singing and acting was really well done and it actually gave me goose bumps when Misha included an already singing-along crowd in the show by having them sing the spooky background vocals in the final number. I hope that there exists video of this performance, and everyone involved have quite a bit to be proud of. I understand that there is a chance of a road show in the not too terribly distant future. I hope that’s a true rumor.

Brazilian Beef
I did NOT stand in line for Brazilian Beef. I saw the writing on the wall early on in the process and had a gut feeling that it wasn’t going to be optimally set up, so I went ahead and procured alternate food. As it turns out, my gut was right, so I feel vindicated. Sucks for those that had to wait, though. Basically I got to enjoy NOT waiting in an endless line.

Masquerade
As if Dr. Horrible wasn’t awesome enough, it was smack-dab in the middle of an absurdly professional masquerade. To me, the masquerade is always a “take it or leave it” prospect. I’m not a costumer, so there’s little draw for me there. This one is totally different. The same crew of folks that ran the most recent masquerade (whose name I don’t recall, but initials are WTF) rocked this one with absolutely amazing stage dressing and fanfare. This was a LOT of fun.

Charity Auction
This was the first year back for the charity auction and apparently it raised over $1600 for the EFF. I managed to get out of there for around $200 with an XO laptop, a copy of Diplomacy (which I’ve been wanting for years...anybody have a spare week to kill?), and a copy of some other board game that I think I will give to Cody for his birthday. It was really nice to see what a great job David Adams did with his first year, and I hope that he or someone picks up the banner and kicks it up a notch next year. Comedy duo Dawn and Greg auctioned the items...and occasionally their clothing (Dawn adding the removal of her shirt to the benefits of owning one lot, and Greg adding the donning of his pants as the benefit of owning another.) Oh, and they had the hottest sex scene ever to appear in a auction.

Dinner with Dawn and Greg
Due to yet another scheduling snafu, dinner with Dawn and Greg turned into a very small gathering of folks hanging with the very funny pair. If you ask me, that was about perfect. It was a chance to have the two largely to myself (plus or minus a few friends) for an hour or so. I laughed until my floating hinge was sore.

Free Space Game
Guest of Honor Jane McGonical ran her Free Space game with Penguicon as the HQ for this round. I actually got a prize! It was very cool to be able to take a breather, whip out my phone, and see what ideas have been thrown against the wall. I love this game. More importantly, I love Jane’s view of the world and our ability to change it through game. I only managed to hit one of her panels, but she was a brilliant and inspiring speaker.

Flirting for Geeks
Hrmm. I am not sure what to say about this panel. Let me begin by saying that I loved being on it. Scott and I were the first to show, so while we sat in front of a packed room, I took a few questions and in response to the question “How long do you wait to get naked” I responded “Oh, before she even shows up” and proceeded to remove my pants, placing them on Dawn’s chair. When Dawn and Greg showed up, she immediately pulled them on over her own pants.

The panel only went downhill from there...to give you an indication, I ended with very wet boxer-briefs and a crotch full of ice water (mostly self inflicted).

In all seriousness, I enjoyed the panel, and there were some very, very funny moments, but I feel like we missed an opportunity. One member of the panel, sadly, the most vocal, doesn’t as much “flirt” as “assault” and I feel like several of us spent the whole panel trying to subvert misinformation from that source through humor and direct refutation. I’ll get into this more when I do my write up of the con from a con-runner’s perspective, but let me leave it with the fact that I had a great time and we had a completely packed house...but I feel like more could have been done.

The Con Itself
HO-LY SHIT! We had 1100 warm bodies in that place. Seriously, that was insane. It was amazingly well run, and all the more fun for having been so well planned and laid out. Registration was brilliant, ops went well, the hotel stuff ran far more smoothly than it had any right to (the only noise complaint all weekend was against MY room when I wasn’t even having a party...ooops), scheduling was pretty damned solid... the consuite ran out of food and was crowded, but that was because it was so well done and so much fun. This was absolutely the most fun Penguicon I’ve attended...and the most fun convention I have attended as well. We have really set the bar high for future years.

I am 100% sure that I’m missing stuff here, but this is what percolates to the top of my sleep deprived mind (I’ll probably catch up on sleep somewhere in 2010, with luck). That’s okay, though, because I have all of YOUR con reports to remind me of the other fun I’ve had. So I’ll be compiling a list of convention reports just like last year, but in the interim, let me know what you think below... What were your favorite and least favorite parts?

Social Conscience

jer_ — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 16:13:00 EDT

Sometimes I feel like a less-than-stellar human being. At the leading crest of a rich history of people who have done shit, my participation in life is—what is the word I’m looking for—well, kind of pathetic. Think about it for a moment. Throughout history, people have fought rebellions for freedom, made great speeches, invented the Pop Tart and fireworks, killed, healed, sought through science or story to explain natural phenomena, did massive amounts of blow and explained the human psyche, and survived. Close your eyes for a moment, and let us consider the life of the earliest man you can imagine. What do you see? Some fur wearing humanoid critter of sinew and muscle spearing a huge wildebeest, cooking it over a roaring blaze, huddling with one another in caves and crude tents to stave off the cold.

Fast forward to early civilization. Wars and culture. People struggling to survive only slightly less than those cave-and-tent bound Neanderthals and still making the time to invent the basic tenets of science, philosophy, and art. Forward further to medieval times, how do you picture their lives? Knights in armor in a near constant state of battle with foreign armies or local brigands. Peasants farming arable land for some meager living. Kings enjoying the good life in between massive wars or turns of church. What about the revolutionary war-era US? A nation of people fighting against nature and a massive kingdom to survive. More recent, the “wild, wild west” where men were men, women were men, and everyone was more of a bad ass than you. Then today, you fought with the toaster that yet again burnt your fucking Pop Tart, traffic that almost made you spill your cappuccino on your dress slacks, a job that stresses you out because your boss is mean to you (not mean like “I’m a fucking saber-toothed tiger and it’s you or me kid” but that “I’m going to say passive- aggressively mean things around you and you can’t respond because you need the money you make at this job to support your Internet porn habit and your wife’s Pottery Barn habit and the kids’ Pokemon and Yu-Gi-Oh! obsessions” sorta mean), then you drive home and watch Fight Club and romanticize the notion of punching your boss directly in his snarky little snout.

It’s hard to feel like a “real” person when you think of it like that. I mean, in the time it has taken me to write this much, somewhere in time some ancient dude with less of an education than my oldest child discovered fucking FIRE. While I'm typing this, someone somewhere is going to cure cancer, repair the economy of a third world nation, find an awesome new sex position, break RSA encryption in 15 seconds with a quantum computer, or some other world-changing IMPORTANT thing. I, meanwhile, will have another mildly interesting arrangement of electrons. It is hard not to be humbled by how small a footprint I am leaving in this world compared to the footprints of those that have come before me. I have tools, education, and opportunity the likes of which the people that unlocked the secrets of the atom could scarcely imagine at my disposal; and I use it as a conduit for porn, stolen music, news (but pretty much only entertainment news—I can tell you what Neil Gaiman’s thoughts were for the last week, but I couldn’t tell you what happened in Afghanistan or England at any point in the last month), and my own over-valued thoughts. Ouch!

Clay Shirky talks about cognitive surplus and I can feel that resonate somewhere deep within me. Just because I don’t dump my surplus on a television or World of Warcraft doesn't make my waste of time any less real, so I wonder how much of my empathic feelings toward this notion of a surplus is mere wishful thinking. How much of this is me saying “Yeah, I’m not fucking lazy, I’m RESTING before I make HUGE SOCIAL CHANGES!” Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think a part of me feels like I am biding my time, setting things in motion that will ensure my part in the next revolution; industrial, political, or otherwise.

You know what, I’m right. My thinking in the start of this post couldn’t be more misleading. I picture all of these “great people” from history doing “important things” and I feel worthless because my life is less a struggle. What a fucking crock! How depressingly self deprecating. I am all for self deprecation, it’s what I do; but when I start to believe it, it’s time to re-evaluate. Early man didn’t innovate very quickly because he (or she) was trying to survive. It’s hard to invent the telescope when that saber-toothed tiger from before is literally about to eat your ass (not “eat your ass” like analingus, but “eat your ass” like “rump roast is tasty, and I’m beginning there before I eat the rest of you, you puny bipedal thing”). The pace of innovation has improved exactly because we have time to burn because sudden and preventable death is remarkably less prevalent at each stage of social improvement. No more huge snakes dropping out of trees on your head in 1st century Rome. The wild west no longer had to concern itself with the bubonic plague. With notable exceptions, most of us don’t have to worry about being gunned down en masse by brigands on horseback. No, we have to worry that our cable went out and the local Outback undercooked our steak.

I also mis-characterize those great minds that have invented or discovered major things. Many (dare I say most?) of these people did what made them famous by accident. Not that their discovery or invention was by accident, but the dramatic social changes that followed were not part of the original program. Galileo didn’t push heliocentrism because he wanted to turn the church, science, and the world on its ear. He liked looking into the heavens and wanted the science to be correct. Jainic (and later Dalton, Avogadro, and Einstein) weren’t trying to change the way we produce energy or fight wars in a desire for social or lifestyle change as much as they were pursuing knowledge and interesting science. Newton was simply trying to explain how things worked. Freud was just trying to see how much blow he could fit in his nose. Torvalds was merely doing his homework. Lerdorf wanted his website to be different. For every scientist, inventor, or theorist out there that is actively trying to generate societal change, there are a dozen that will stumble upon that change by merely doing what they love.

So when I do what I love, and do it with gusto, I’m doing my job. It is unlikely that the things that I do are going to have a lasting impact on the world; but the important bit is that what most people do won’t have any lasting impact either, and most of the people that I can think of that have had that kind of long-term affect did so by accident doing what they enjoyed. There was no need for a grand plan. So I’ll keep doing what I do. Hey, maybe something I write will spur a though in someone’s head and they will go out and find a better way for men to wax their genitals or electrically shock their children. Who knows, maybe my love for bringing geeky, brilliant people together socially so that they can be casually-genius in finding new ways to have fun will translate into something world-altering. It is possible that me being a foul-mouthed chucklehead will result in something amazing for someone else. I don’t have to worry about it, I just have to keep doing what I do best and feel comfortable that time will tell what it was that sparked the next big thing.

So, for now, I’ll just have to be happy being brilliantly foul-mouthed, relatively entertaining, outspoken, bright, focused, and driven; and if the world suddenly needs someone to program a swearing machine with absolutely no filter...I’ll be there!

2008 in Review

jer_ — Fri, 02 Jan 2009 18:49:00 EST

Well, if my RSS feed is to be an indicator, the past week or two and the next week or two are to be filled with reviews of last year in various forms. I'm nothing if not unoriginal, so here I am, happy to bleat and follow the herd!

The Website

Let us begin with the numbers; in 2008, iBloviate saw some 225,000 requests and served over 100,000 pages since it went live in late March. On average, I served around 9,000 pages each month (save for a massive 30,000+ page December, that is). Thursday is my busiest day for traffic, by far, and 2pm is the busiest time.

On a related but distinctly separate note, December 26th and 27th were absolutely HUGE traffic days, easily 5 or 6 times as large as an average day. At first I thought it was my Christmas Album card thing, but that accounted for a scant 150ish hits, and we're talking a bump of closer to 7,000 hits each day. I guess it is just the power of bored people with days off.

StumbleUpon has become my primary source of new traffic (over half of this year's visitors have “stumbled” in), followed by those that come directly (no referrer, that is)... but those of you reading my LJ and visiting that way are still a pretty significant group. :) The “Open Source Boob Project” continues to be responsible for some not insubstantial inflow of traffic. This notion amuses me more than anything, as I've said relatively little on the subject (it is my opinion that the world can be broken comfortably into three groups: those for whom reading comprehension is a bit beyond them, those who get outraged by everything, and a tiny group that are both able to read and are capable of logical thought. The last group is the group toward whom anything I wrote would have been aimed, and those people have, in all likelihood, already winnowed their way through the madness to find the underlying truth, and formed an opinion based on that).

By virtue of the aforementioned StumbleUpon link, the Father of the Year article is now the number one page on my site by a considerable margin, followed by (in order), my list of Penguicon 6.0 reports, the only thing I wrote in relation to the OSBP debacle—a response to the slut-shaming that was flying all over the place, the tale of my manscaping misadventures (for the record, I'll feel like I “made it” when manscaping no longer gets a red, squiggly underline in Firefox), and my quotes page.

The Year in Review

January opened in anger and frustration. While in New York for the holidays, our house was robbed, but by month's end, the vast majority of our stuff had been replaced, recovered, or borrowed to allow the children a life-as-usual situation. ConFusion was a complete success during which new friends were made and old friends were partied with.

In February, I attended my first out-of-state convention, Capricon (which I did an atrocious job of writing about, although I did document a bit of the trip to (semi private), Friday, and Saturday. Aside from that, February was a decidedly uneventful month (and, as it turns out, it was the month during which I last did a major overhaul on iBloviate...so perhaps it is time to do some more work with that, eh? Oh, and it was in this month that I made a major purchase and made the decision to invite a certain someone to become a more permanent fixture in my life. (oh, and it should be noted that The Office stole this idea from me. Just sayin')

I transitioned into March at MPCon and the Gamers for Giving launched to great success. It was also the month that the nascent notion of a lingerie party was squeezed out of Ger and Amanda's wombs and waved in front of fandom. My server died, my car tried to light itself on fire, and the LJ community proved yet again that their dictionaries don't have a definition of “boycott”. I was moved to write about why calling Joss Whedon a rapist is stupid. Oh, and she said yes for those that were keeping track.

What happened in April? Oh yeah, Penguicon had an amazing year (at least, if pretty much everyone can be trusted) and 20 people enjoyed themselves while thousands told them how little fun it really was. And there was great hand-wringing and some amount of bloodshed. I think there might have been virgin sacrifices¹.

I finished community college and became the first member of my family with a college degree in May, and immediately dove back into school to finish my Bachelor's program. The very first SMOScast was committed to 1s and 0s. I made an utter ass of myself for the release of the Sex in the City movie.

Ger moved in, the game was conceived of, but not yet executed (but oh yes, it will happen). The Penguicon community was aghast at my use of the word “fuck”. George Carlin died. MedKat's birthday party was the stuff of legends. I may, or may not, have poo-ed myself in June.

It was in July that I conceived of, kicked off, and was utterly underwhelmed by a fairly ambitious idea. Oh well, I suppose they can't all be winners. I attended another MPCon event, met new friends, helped a friend move, and acted in the Dreamland Theater version of “A Shoggoth on the Roof”, and dined with Neal Gaiman's blog. Oh, and I got a year older and found that I really like it.

August was the month of the traumatic, horrifying, ordeal. Thankfully I survived. A group of us managed to hit the Michigan Ren Faire. Ger aged by a year, and had her first ever surprise birthday party.

In September, I began my first full semester at U of M Dearborn, tried sauerkraut juice for the first time, observed the anniversary of the twin tower collapses, and rode the Tour de Troit for the second time. Pretty uneventful.

October was ConClave, Lappy my new laptop, the travesty that was Tour de Livingston, entirely too much political crap. Ger got some uncool and scary news (semi private). The work/school/home/social life/convention combination became oppressive.

Here in the US, November featured a pretty important election. I mean, yes, it was historical and groundbreaking for the obvious reasons, but it is my hope that its importance will be seen in the next 4 years as our economy and world standing improves. That or we all become Canadian, eh? I, for one, love poutine, can attest to the obvious benefits of stronger beers, and look rather fetching in tuques and sherpas. My school asked me to blog for them. I further honed my now-legendary negotiation skills against the Germans in securing Randy's release. I got a haircut. The year pressed onward.

The year was closed in December with a trip to Syracuse during which I was *not* robbed (cheer). I finished my first real semester at the university with all As save for that one pesky B. Serious effort was made toward planning for a certain May wedding and a certain January convention. I modeled my new sherpa (or pompon bearing tuque) while my furnace was out. We sent Christmas cards this year for the first time ever (and next year, everyone that I utterly forgot or failed to send to will get some too!). The old year was rung out with great friends and much Rock Band.

In all, I couldn't complain about a single bit of this year, because, at year's end, my family is healthy, my friends are here, and life is pretty damned tolerable, to say the least. In fact, if I were the sort that said such things, I would even call life today “outstanding”

The Future

I don't really do the whole resolutions thing. This year has a lot going for it already. This month is ConFusion. Next month is another Gamers for Giving/MPCon event and Capricon in Chicago. This summer we have Penguicon, my wedding, and a new summer convention. During all of this, I have the same school, work, familial, and friend obligations that always exist. I have joined TMBO's weight loss challenge, so perhaps this year will feature a smaller me, who knows. What I would like to do this year, is write more, so I guess this is the closest thing that I have to a resolution. I love writing, I feel like I do it well, but when things get busy it's the first thing I toss aside. This year I'd like to commit to spending at least an hour each day writing, even if I don't “publish” it, or anything. I don't know, I suppose it's a goal, at least. I even went back and bolded it so perhaps I'd not it next year when I'm reviewing the year again and I can see how I did.

¹ Any virgins that may or may not have been injured were definitely of the male variety, and we didn't even CONSIDER it to be an indication of purity or preferability when we chose them, it was just easiest to catch them, because they were so busy masturbating.

A Different Sort of Romance

jer_ — Sun, 30 Nov 2008 22:14:52 EST

So, as my last post mentions, my fiancée and I finally caught “ Zack and Miri Make a Porno ” today. Now, before I begin, let me state that I was as predisposed to enjoying this movie as one could possible be; it is by Kevin Smith—for whom I bear a rather untoward quantity of adulation, and it features Seth Rogen— whose work has always amused me thus far. Well, the short of it is that it is a fantastic movie. It might very well be my favorite of the Kevin Smith films, only review to see if it stands up after dozens of viewings will reveal if it can beat the almighty “Clerks ”. The long of it, well, read on... (warning, may contain spoilers if you aren't in tune with the obvious.)

Opening weekend, I received no less than 5 text messages indicating that I absolutely had to go see the flick because I “am” Seth Rogen's character, Zack. In the weeks that followed, time after time I was told the same thing. Now, clearly there are commonalities in our outward appearance, our mutual rotundity and less-than-leading-man-good-looks for example, but I was informed that it was more than that. I had my doubts.

I no longer doubt. Throughout the film, Ger and I were both amused not just by the witty and raunchy humor, but by the distinct Jer-ness of Zack's lines, actions, and mannerisms. It felt like I was being aped in a far more impressive and funny fashion, and it certainly worked for me. Beyond my egotistical amusement at seeing me on the big screen, though, the movie was absolutely hysterical. Kevin Smith does dialogue like noone else, and this is certainly no exception. The opening third was so full of laughs that I made the comment ( then posted it) that if the movie ended right then (at around the 30 minute mark) I would consider the price of admission to be money well spent. Ger agreed. This movie is an absolute riot. There were countless moments where both of us were laughing until tears slid down our cheeks. Side-splitting, even. Somewhere, however, amidst all of this hilarity, a real story began.

Now, I am a simple critter; I don't require high-art in order to be entertained, and “Zack and Miri” could have merely trotted out the sex jokes and called it a day and I would have walked out reasonably happy. Instead, a romance unfolded, and a very sweet one at that.

Yes, a romance.

Now, for my money, this might have been the most romantic movie I have seen in years, but that is because Ger and I have an interesting romance of our own (something I would genuinely like to dive into in a more specific fashion in a later article, perhaps); Smith managed to mirror it in spectacular fashion. Rogen's Zack does not buy flowers, speak in flowery prose, or weep; what he does, however is show emotion in a prosaic, heartfelt way and to my mind, that is far more difficult to express on the screen. By the end, the movie did what “Jersey Girl” could never quite manage—deliver balanced emotion and comedy without becoming maudlin or sappy; quite a feat.

In the end, this is absolutely a movie I would recommend; I, personally, will be purchasing a copy when it comes out on DVD. It is a rare movie that leaves me wishing it was just a bit longer when it ended (and for those of you that stayed to see the end of the credits, it actually was longer!) If I were the sort of guy that gives rating scales in terms of pseudo-witty star-replacements, I would give this two dutch rudders and a half a chub.

Top 15 Reasons I Will Be Passed Over for Father of the Year 2008

jer_ — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 12:02:00 EST

For a relatively intelligent guy, I make a lot of stupid mistakes. This also holds true when it comes to my parenting style (if, by "style", we mean "series of not well thought out choices"). It is because of these that each year I jokingly suggest that I am not a likely candidate for Father of the Year. Here are the top 15 reasons why this year is not looking good...

If Found, Please Call...
While at the Renaissance Festival, it was pointed out to me that many of the other parents had written their phone numbers on a sticker on their child. Not to be outdone, I wrote my phone number and the phrases "Do Not Rape" and "No Kidnapping" in permanent black sharpie on both children on their arms and stomach. Sharpies are, as it turns out, more permanent that one would think.

Cody's Giant Head
I'm sure that there is a special place in hell for people that purposely try to make someone else self conscious about a part of their body. I'm sure that the part of hell set aside for parents that do it to their children must be extra specially horrific. (But damn, look at the boy's head!)

Tricking Children into Swearing
I am absurdly amused by the sound of swearing coming from my children, so much so that I get crazy enjoyment out of trying to trick them into swearing. They are too old for my favorite (having them sound out the spelled out version of a naughty word), but there is always value in the attempt. Most recently, that attempt has been in the form of foreign words and phrases.

Birthday Slaps
In 2006, an episode of "How I Met Your Mother" changed the lives of my children and I in a very specific (and ultimately painful) way. It started the birthday slap bet. Now, a good parent certainly wouldn't allow his children to beat him about the face and neck in excess of thirty times, nor return the favor; but it is so funny. To be honest, this is probably the last year of the event; frankly, the kids are too damned big, and this shit is beginning to HURT.

Adam Sandler is Rarely Appropriate
Sitting around the table laughing at funny songs, everyone remembers the "Chanukah Song" (all three versions) and the "Thanksgiving Song" is safe enough; but what happens when you forget and queue up "At a Medium Pace" for the kids? What happens is they get the lyrics:

"Spit on your hand and stroke my cock at a medium pace,
play with my balls and tell me how big they are...

before you get a chance to hit stop. That was a great moment for us all.

Turkish Coffee
This is a gag that I have fallen for many times: the kids want to try something that I am consuming, I am sure that the flavor will dissuade them, and it utterly fails to. This iteration involved Turkish coffee at Al Sultan, which is particularly strong. I hand the little cups to each child assuming they'll sip it, hate it, and move on. Instead, they sip it, catch the minty leave-behind , and proceed to down a full shot each. Any drink dispensed in shot form is definitely not a child's drink. Most adults probably already knew this.

Extra Strong Salsa
Many of my moments of ineptitude stem from playing practical jokes on children that probably are best not done to such small people. In this case it was placing some insanely hot salsa in the center of Amber's burrito. To give you an idea, I tried a dab the size of a pea, and it was PAIN personified. In Amber's burrito, I placed about two teaspoons. She was feeling rough afterwards. Perhaps I should have tasted it first.

Enjoy the Nightmares
I had already seen "Hot Fuzz" once, and couldn't recall any bad parts so when the kids wanted to watch it with me, I saw no problems with it. As it turns out, there is a rather fantastic amount of blood in that movie; cartoonish amounts, actually. Whoops. To add insult to injury, each scene kept getting more and more grotesque than the one before until, when a certain building piece aligned (with great momentum) with a certain character's head, even Amber said "I can't believe we are allowed to watch this." Nor can I, baby, nor can I.

Should Milk be Chunky?
At dinner, I pull out a nearly empty milk jug, noting that it is a full week past the expiration date. The sniff test is ambiguous, it doesn't smell BAD, but it doesn't smell good either. Amber picks up the jug and, with no fanfare, takes several huge swallows. She then confirmed that it doesn't taste "quite right" then, seeing my discomfort, proceeded to put chocolate syrup in the jug, and finished off every last drop, punctuating her completion with a loud burp. You have to admire that commitment to fucking with me, even as your stomach turns.

Cold Showers
A simple formula: a pitcher of ice cold water, quiet feet, and an unsuspecting child in the shower minding his or her own business.

Children are not Cows
While visiting my fiance's family farm, it occurred to me that the kids had never before seen an electric fence, so after a bit of time spent assuaging their fears, they were convinced to touch it. What I wasn't aware was that modern, thyristor driven fences differ in many ways from the old style fences I was used to; the most notable of those ways was in intensity and duration of intensity. Testing the fence after the kids each complained of its strength showed me that this fucker HURT. I've said it before, and I'll say it again...oops.

Just Like Their Father
While driving somewhere, on a whim, I dug a booger from my nose and wiped it on my son's arm expecting the obvious reaction. Instead, he calmly looked at me, scooped it up with his finger, and popped it into his mouth. "Delicious," he uttered. There is a great deal of me in this child. (No pun intended)

Hunger Strike
Many of these items seem to relate to what my children eat; this relates to what they occasionally do NOT eat. More than once they have allowed me to sleep in, and when lunch time nears, the following conversation takes place:

Me: Alright, who's hungry?

Them: We are starving, we haven't eaten yet!

Me: You didn't have breakfast?

Them: No, we were out of cereal.

The time to mention this would probably have been before lunch, eh?

The Beatings Will Continue...
I walk into the living room, preparing to don my belt when Amber takes off down the hall ahead of me. Overtaken by my inner hunter, I instinctively lash out with my belt, scoring an accidental direct hit on the back of Amber's arm with my metal-studded belt.

Oh, it gets worse.

Cody observes that it couldn't have hurt THAT much, and I take over 15 attempts to snap him in the ass with it before accidentally contacting his lower back. Best...father...evar.

And the grand winner, the reason of all reasons that I will not be getting the coveted "Father of the Year" prize this year is...

Birds and Bees
My ex and I decide to have "the talk" with the kids. As such things go, "us" talking to the kids tends to mean "me" talking while she nods along helpfully. This was no exception, and I did what I do best—extemporaneously recite off the cuff facts and manufacture a lecture from thin air. Most of the time this works out quite well; most of the time I'm not speaking to children. I cannot profess to recall everything that I touched on, but I can say with absolute certainty that the concepts of beastiality, masturbation, birth control, and multiple-partner-sex came up. Yes, the first item on the list was beastiality. No, I don't know how that came about.

As I have said, it's not looking good for this year. Maybe next? What is, I suppose, most troubling with this list is that it is not yet Thanksgiving as I write it, and these 15 came fairly quickly and easily. I still have the entire month of December during which I can make even more stupid mistakes. It is rather scary when you think about it.

[Edit] I can add another to this list, as I allowed the kids to read this list while I was getting ready this morning. It was only when they both giggled maniacally and I glanced over their shoulder that I realized there was, perhaps, something worse than playing the Adam Sandler song for them; that being, of course, typing out the lyrics for them to read. Well played!

The Saga of the Haircut

jer_ — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 01:17:00 EST

I got my hair cut yesterday, and the ordeal that is my hair has reached a new level...but first, some explanation.

It began with the first visit. My new barber is an elderly gentleman, he couldn't weigh more than 110 pounds soaking wet, and had just gotten done with an admirable job scissor-cutting my shaggy mop of far-too-long hair. There was, however, something of a language barrier—I am terrible with accents —so there was some confusion when he offered me some service that I cannot entirely understand. He was offering to "clean up" the area around my temples and the hairs on my ears. Finally, after much gesticulating on his part and confusion on mine, I figured, "Why not?!" and agreed to whatever this service might be.

Oops.

He then moved over to the counter and picked up a tongue depressor covered in thick, hot wax, which he immediately applied to my temples in two swift motions. He then returned to the pot of wax and dipped in two halves of a broken Q-Tip, each of which goes into one of my ears. While I was in shock from this turn of events, two additional Q-Tips were placed in my nose.

Into... my... ears... and... nose... What is it with me and wax in odd places?

But as everyone knows, the bad part of wax isn't the putting-ON, but the getting-OFF. With malicious, evil glee this demonic little elf from hell ripped each wax strip from my head slowly and methodically, eliciting yelps and tears from my normally stoic visage. In the common parlance, that shit hurt! And he LOVED doing it.

"But Jer," I can hear you saying, "it's not personal, the man is just doing job." Wrong! Allow me to prove it to you...

If nothing else, he knows how to spell wax!

The next time I went, I was prepared. I had used scissors to trim my nose hairs and those in my ears and I used a razor to shave the hair around my temples. I was giving the barber no reason to even consider the wax. So he did his thing on my hair and, when done, examined my cleanly shaved temples and asked if I wanted to get everything waxed. I demurred in an uncharacteristically non-confrontational fashion, and was taken aback when he insisted, then quickly applied the wax to my ear again.

Damnit, he got me again, and the game was on.

On my next visit, I was going to be firm. I was taking no shit. I was NOT going to have my follicles violated by the fiery fingers of waxy perdition. This time, when he offered, I clearly said no. He offered again, expressing a strong desire to attack my face with wax, and again I firmly stated, "No, that will not be necessary." He acknowledged my wishes. He stuck the waxy Q-Tip in my ear. I did not see that coming.

Barber: 3, Jer: 0

People at this point were asking me why I would go back. "Why," they would inquire, "would you go through this time and again?" Well, for one thing, the haircut is phenomenal, and I have a really hard time finding someone to do my hair that I really like that is also affordable. More importantly, though, the game is fascinating. I live for this shit. If nothing else, my hair-care has now turned into a fun story; and how can I end it voluntarily?

I absolutely won the next confrontation. When the barber turned to grab the wax, I immediately lept from my seat and started digging in my pocket for cash, telling him that I was all set. I could see the look of disappointment in his eyes, but also a glint of something—challenge perhaps? Indeed, this round went to me...

Barber: 3, Jer: 1

Yesterday, I dove back into the fray once again, determined to win back another "point" in our little game of cat and mouse. I failed. As the service came to a close, not a word about waxing had been spoken. The barber removed my "bib" and began cleaning the hair off from me. "Perhaps," thought I, "the events from last time have ended the game?" So convinced, was I, of my win that I barely even registered the conversation he was having in some foreign language with the gentleman sweeping the floor nearby. Imagine my surprise, then, when—after wiping the hair from my face with a towel—the towel was removed to reveal what had been taking place while my view was obstructed.

As the towel left my face, I was granted the briefest of glimpse of the floor sweeper in the process of placing a wax-covered Q-Tip into my left ear. Before I could react, the damage was done. Defeated, I accepted my punishment and allowed wax to be applied to my other ear and temples, drawing the line at the removal of nose hair.

Barber: 4, Jer: 1

Well played, sir...well played, but you have tipped your hand. This deft a maneuver could not have been executed by a man merely performing his work. These are not the machinations of a craftsman accomplishing his trade. These are the actions of a genius practicing his works of evil on an unsuspecting innocent.* Yes, this is personal.

I will not be defeated. I have formulated a master plan that involves placing a healthy dollop of baby oil in each ear and nostril before the next haircut.** The next round will be mine!

* For some definitions of the word innocent
** Co-worker Joe points out that, in the grand scheme of things, if I spend the day with baby oil in my nose and ears, that really might constitute a win for the other side. He might be right. That thought is distressing.

The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction

jer_ — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 03:00:00 EDT

Around a week ago, I received a copy of the big October/November double issue of Fantasy & Science Fiction for review, with the promise that I would be sure to blog what I thought about it, good or bad, after I read it. As has been typical lately, the moment it arrived, so did a massive case of life, so it is now--a full week after its arrival--that I get a chance to jot down my thoughts.

I was very excited to dive right into the the magazine, and even more so when I saw on the cover that it featured the work of local author Carol Emshwiller ("The Start of the End of it All"), "Bones of the Earth" author Michael Swanwick, and even Stephen King (yes, that Stephen King).

Before I get into the writing, the magazine looks great. Everything from Max Bertolini's gorgeous cover art to the greyscale advertisements to the pulpy page weight screams nostalgia while the beautiful print and terrific stories show how far the genre has come. At nearly 250 relatively ad-free pages per $6 issue, I defy you to find a better value in terms of pages per dollar (a value that gets considerably better if you purchase a subscription for a year or two--$3.18 and $2.55 per issue respectively). Of course this value assumes that the stories are readable...

...and the stories are more than readable. The short stories almost entirely left me wanting for more, like when Albert E. Cowdrey brought back Detective Fourtney and Chief Tobin to solve a fantastic mystery in a Hurricane-Katrina-shattered New Orleans in "Inside Story." Terry Bisson's "Private Eye" twists and turns as it delivers. The aforementioned Carol Emshwiller continues to delight in "Whoever," was whimsical and entertaining. I was utterly enamored with Laurel Winter's take on completely understanding quantum physics in "~~Going Back~~ in ~~Time~~," and found Michael Swanwick's beautifully told "The Scarecrow's Boy" lovely. My current favorite short story in the collection, however, was penned by M. Rickert. I have always enjoyed seeing an author take on the social and political ramifications of the future, and "Evidence of Love in a Case of Abandonment: One Daughter's Personal Account" treats future abortion in a thought provoking (if not, at times, maudlin) manner.

All three novelets completely grabbed me as well, although one was slow in doing so. "Days of Wonder" by Geoff Ryman is one of the few future stories I have read in which animals, rather than humans, have a leading role. While it may sound gimmicky, the story itself was superb. Tim Sullivan's "Planetesimal Dawn" is a great example of an action-sci-fi tale, and it delivers brilliantly. Robert Reed, apparently a frequent contributer to the magazine, wrote the novelet that was slowest to grab me, but once it did, maintained the tightest hold. "The Visionaries" starts with the feel of a meta story about a struggling writer, but slowly evolves into a really compelling and interesting little mystery. There is a lot of depth in these scant 22 pages, I highly suggest you give it a try.

Even the articles contained in this publication are top notch. While I disagree with several of Michelle West's viewpoints, her views on the latest works of Elizabeth Bear, John Scalzi, and Marjorie M. Liu's are insightful, well thought out, and--more importantly--well formed. West manages to do something at which many other reviewers manage to fail so miserably: review with enough information backing your opinion that the reader can reach a conclusion of their own (and no, the irony is not lost on me here.) Lucius Shepard's "Films: Things That Go Clank in the Night" was a hilarious review of "Iron Man" was highly entertaining, if not entirely biased. Typically, in these sorts of publications, I read the stories, the reviews, and I briefly skim the other "filler", but this issue was blessedly scant on filler. Even articles in which I had no initial interest, like "Science: Rocks in Space" by Paul Doherty and Pat Murphy and "Curiosities" by Fred Chappell, ended up capturing my attention for the duration, compelling me to finish them.

There were really very few low points. Those that I did find were the shorts submitted by Steven Utley, Scott Bradfield, and Stephen King for "Sleepless Years", "Dazzle Joins the Screenwriter's Guild", and "The New York Times at Special Bargain Rates" respectively. Frankly, saying that these were my least favorite parts is really saying a lot, as none of these stories are what I would consider bad; they just did not hold up as well as I felt the rest of the collection did. "Sleepless" was an interesting idea that felt like it dragged. "Dazzle" was humorous, but felt mildly like a cliche. Stephen King's story surprised me the most, because it was really engaging, but I could not shake the feeling that I had read the whole thing before; so much so that I got up, walked to my bookshelf, and picked up Stephen King's "Nightmares & Dreamscapes." On page 296 the story "Sorry, Right Number" unfolds in a manner reminiscent of, if not similar to, the short story contained in this magazine. That fact just detracted from my enjoyment of the short too much.

I really did not want to write a glowing review of this thing. I know that it makes me look like a paid shill, somehow, but I honestly cannot recommend this enough. The series of shorter stories lends itself well to my limited time for reading fiction, and the cost lends itself well to my limited funds. If the other 10 issues per year are of the same quality, I do not think it is possible to go wrong with a subscription to this magazine. In fact, I feel strongly enough about it that I fully intend to start a subscription on payday, and I cannot provide higher praise than that.

Obligatory September 11th Post

jer_ — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 12:11:00 EDT

John Stewart, discussing the World Trade Center atrocity a few days after it happened, spoke about test of our nation's fabric; tests of the mettle of our people. I have been thinking a lot about that in these days leading up to the anniversary of the world famous terrorist attack. I have been pondering these trials that we have been subjected to in the seven years that have passed since the profile of the New York skyline so enormously altered the profile of American life.

I find myself saddened to say that we are failing those tests.

It almost seems trite to say that anything would mean "the terrorists have won" in light of how egregiously that phrase was abused in the weeks and months that followed the tragedy, but let us consider for a moment what defines a win for a terrorist. It is not the hostile takeover of a foreign land; they are not a government or nation and have no land-ownership urges. It is not the complete destruction of a nation; bombs strapped on people and airplanes crashing simply do not do that sort of damage. It is not even to inspire social change, not really; social change might be the long term goal--the endgame, if you will--but these are not the methods of social activists. No, to score a win, a terrorist seeks to inspire terror; to annihilate the way of life of his or her target. To create fear, uncertainty, suspicion, conspiracy, and doubt. To create the United States, circa 2008.

We are failing these tests.

A nation with stronger resolve and more effective leadership could have shrugged the attacks off and tended to the dead and wounded--to those left behind. A more powerful set of beliefs would have been able to see the attacks for what they were, and not immediately started an institutional policy of racism and profiling. A braver country could have, inspired by the bravery shown by the passengers of US Airways Flight 93, refused to allow the scope of military action to spread to unrelated nations. A polity more committed to its ideals would have ignored a call to throw away its Constitution in favor of the perception of safety.

We failed those tests.

And seven years later, we are still failing the same tests. We are still sacrificing personal freedoms for illusory morsels of protection, but are we any safer? Have performances of racial profiling, do not fly lists, absurd limitations on fluids, and unprecedented levels of surveillance made us safer? Have torture chambers limited the terrorist threat? Has the destruction of NAFTA slowed the passage of terrorists into and out of this nation? Of course not.

Each of these, tests we have failed.

But it is far too easy to take shots at the government; what have we done on the personal level? How many of you have listened quietly as a friend or loved one talked about shutting down the borders entirely, all in the name of safety? Have you sit idly by as co-workers bandied about the wisdom of making English the national language or Christian values the national legal code? Nodded along as the terms "muslim", "arab", and "terrorist" were used interchangeably, as if merely being brown, following Islam, or being from any nation in a fantastically large region makes one guilty of terror? If so, you are part of the problem.

You are failing these tests.

Yes, our American mettle and our American fiber are still being tested today, and it is my dearest hope that on this day--September 11th--we take the opportunity to learn from our mistakes. It is time to take this win back from the terrorists. It it high time we start passing these tests. Our entire country is at stake.

The Sex in the City Challenge

jer_ — Sat, 31 May 2008 17:37:00 EDT

About a week ago, issued the challenge. Wear a "Sex in the City" T-shirt all day on the Friday movie release day and just be enthused about the prospect.

After some missteps in trying to obtain a shirt, it occurred to me that a homemade shirt would be both cheaper AND funnier. Way funnier. Thankfully, Ger and Sheryl came through in a huge way to create the shirt that was ultimately used. Then the camera person bailed at the last minute but Roxanne came through with a camera that worked brilliantly. The result:

Stuff I learned...

Glitter gets EVERY damned place
I need an external mic that I can keep on me, the sound SUCKS (but we knew that was going to be the case)
If I ever do such a thing again... more than one camera person, and both with very small cams would be helpful
Southland Mall rent-a-cops are bitches that should probably devote the time they spend to worrying about cameras and hitting on underage girls accomplishing something useful
I need braver camera persons... timidity of camera missed some really good material, to include a lengthy conversation with the cell phone hut and the entirety of my hair stylist convo
I need to be more aware of the camera... really great stuff was also missed because I failed to mention that we should roll cameras
Being shot up from underneath is NOT my best look
If you ever want attention, be a big dude in a homemade Sex in the City t-shirt. Seriously.
Video editing sucks ass.

Hope y'all enjoy. :)

Penguicon 6.0 Reports

jer_ — Wed, 21 May 2008 10:28:00 EDT

Here is a listing of people's post-convention reports about Penguicon 6.0. If you have one or have seen one you wish to add, please feel free to tell me here. (If I linked you here and you'd like some different attribution or something changed, please let me know in the same place.)

Guests of Honor and Nifties

Benjamin Mako Hill (Tech GoH)
Tamora Pierce (Author GoH)
Cherie Priest (Nifty Guest)
Report and video from Tom Smith (Nifty Guest)
Parts One and Two by Lucy Snyder (Nifty guest)
Joe "Zonker" Brockmeier (Nifty Guest)
Andy Looney of Looney Labs (Nifty Guest)
Jono Bacon made a brief mention of us

Board, ConCom, and Staff

Jess (ConCom member)
Geralyn (Staffer)
Jer_ (my long-winded take on it)
Molly (ConCom member)
Chuck (Board and ConCom member)
zifferent (ConCom member)
Rachael Cahours (Staffer and one who got married at the con)
Lithie (Staffer and member of the wedding party)
Aaron Thul (ConCom, A/V Dude, and Techie Extraordinaire)
Matt Arnold (ConCom, next year's ConChair)

Awesome Attendees

Penguicon Report and Delivery Report from Vakkotaur
Orvan Ox's report
Shoebox of the Worm Quartet had a great time
Timeshredder's YouTube video (video)
rmeidaking
kevinnickerson (with pics)
justbeast
pheltzer
jeffreyab (with pics and video)
zillafan
netmouse (video of the singing tesla coils)
atdt1991
dawnwolfe
renniekins
fortuna-juvat (plus how-to-kill-a-character slideshow)
pjhandley
jojomojo
rosalarian2
bar1scorpio
bar1scorpio (the pictoral adventures of squishy)
cassandraterra
mishamish
Survival Game and Black Sweater Party by Writer's Dream
Craig Maloney
fairmer
jackwilliambell
Day 1, Day 2, Day 3 by wolfger

Pictures

Video

Day 1 and Day 2 by Chris Miller of unquietdesperation.com
William Jones (author and panelist)
Professor Chaos's magical can of Red Bull
Scifi Marketing
Dylan G
topher1kenobe
The Man of a Thousand Names (Once known as Misha)
Slightly Off-Topic Webcomic and report
Shoggoth on the Roof Videos by Chance
Masquerade Photos by Kevin Nickerson
Kat's Photo Tour which includes my favorite photo
A Non-Geek's Critique (wordy AND fun!)
A video dump by Blasted Bill

On Sluts and Open Source Boobs

jer_ — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 03:00:00 EDT

Slut shaming has always intrigued me as a misogynist trait. I mean, among traits that are tools of the patriarchy, slut shaming is far and away the most amazing. Why?

It's the first tool pseudo-feminists adopt from the "other side" when things aren't going their way. Ironic, isn't it?

I mean, publicly the feminist message includes messages that say "enjoy your sexuality" and "don't let the patriarchy tell you that you're a slut for enjoying sex and going out and having it." It is certainly not the sole message, but it seems to be a key factor. So now, enter a woman whose activity offends some of these "feminist" ladies, and miraculously the feminists start with the slut shaming. Apparently, participating in the ineptly named Open-Source Boob Project makes one a slut. Never mind that it wasn't about sex. Never mind that its stated goal was to empower women by publicly taking control of their bodies. Sluts all of em.

For those who don't want to read the whole description, here's the upshot. A group of people of mixed gender were carrying small red and green buttons that read "Yes" and "No" respectively. If you asked for a button of either color you were given it to wear proudly. Those wearing the green, "Yes" button--male AND female--were saying that they were open to being asked if they would like their breasts (or butt) touched. Not open to being touched, open to being asked. Those wearing the red were declaring that they were NOT open to even being asked. Those wearing no button were declaring themselves not a part of the experience (thus making the red button rather moot, if you ask me). It was started as an exercise in closeness, in physical contact, in empowerment, and in fun. I repeat, only those who asked about the project were asked if they wanted a button (save for some close friends for whom the question was considered acceptable based on the friendship itself).

But that was unacceptable to a bevy of pseudo-feminists. This is outside of their social norms, so it is castigated under a variety of headers: slutty attention seeking on the part of the female participants, exercising male privilege and implied ownership of women on the part of the men. So, what of the women that felt empowered by the advertised control over their bodies? Whores and sluts, the lot of em'. What of the men who similarly offered up their bodies in the same vein? Creepy fucks and rapists.

Yay for rational thinking.

The best part is that 1300 comments later, I would posit that less than 10% of the responses are by people who were actually there or have any idea what was going on. In an endeavor where context is king, those lacking anything related to context are mostly the ones waving the flags. It should be telling that not one single person (to date) that was actually at the convention in question, male or female, has expressed anything but approval for the project, but it's not. That would get in the way of out-of-context agenda pushing, and that's what this is really about.

Feminists today have diverged in a remarkable way from personal responsibility. Teach a class on rape prevention that includes advice like "don't go to frat parties alone" and "don't drink open drinks"? You're victim blaming, not helping to prevent rape by disclosing risks. Did you spend several years stripping to pay your way through college? You were clearly forced to do so by a male-oriented society that FORCES you to see your body as a financial opportunity. Participate in a social project designed to remove some of the mystique of our various body parts? Slut and tool of the patriarchy! No personal responsibility, no shades of gray.

I was there. In fact, I was there from early on in the process. The fact of the matter is, as much as I feel that theferrett is an extremely entertaining writer, I originally felt that he blew it big time with both of his posts. I was completely wrong. He couldn't have posted a more useful message. The fact that his hetero point of view made this seem titillating is telling; it shows exactly how necessary something like this is. The women involved were empowering themselves by taking ownership of their bodies PUBLICLY, but to some degree the men involved were still seeing the titillation (no pun intended). What better representation of the problem could there be? Does this mean that the experiment is necessary? No, the jury is still out on that, but it certainly doesn't mean it is NOT necessary or useful. I, personally, think the project is a wonderful thing, wore a button all weekend, and was touched several times. I am friends with several of the people that were wearing the buttons, both male and female, and I did very little touching myself. Why? I prefer to be invited to touch others; it's as simple as that. So realize I'm not saying that you should feel like the project is a good thing. I'm not saying that you should like it. I'm not saying you're a prude or you're misguided if you don't participate (several of my friends didn't participate, and at least one young lady that I respect highly wore the red button). I'm not even saying that it is a good thing. I'm saying that by saying that it shouldn't happen because it is outside of your moral code, you are doing the same thing that those against feminism have been doing for years.

But here's the important part... you don't have to take my word for it. You don't have to flout your opinion at all. Each and every woman should feel empowered to do with their body what they will. They should feel safe to make decisions with their body without fear of slut shaming or ostracism from men OR OTHER WOMEN. Right now, there's a woman out there who tried to do something fun with friends-- something she found empowering--and the very feminists who have been saying for decades that she should do just that have lept upon her for it with teeth gnashing and judgments thrown. Where's the feminism in that? The people you are calling a slut shouldn't be the ones feeling shame. Not by a long shot. You should be feeling ashamed. The fact that you don't is telling. It's time to look in the mirror and see where some of this is coming from.

Michigan Cycling Schedule

jer_ — Sat, 29 Mar 2008 05:33:00 EDT

This is by no means a complete list, but this is a running list of cycling events around Michigan that I have done or plan to do. Where possible, I've tried to include some information. If you have one I can add, please send it to me (with a web link if possible) at my contact form.

April

Detroit Bikes! Riverfront Ride

Length: 10 - 15 miles
Type: Group Ride
Date: 12 April 2008

Short, free, I guess it's supposed to hit Belle Isle, Eastern Market, and Lafayette park. I'd like to try this as a season opener with the kids, although their bikes will really be the deciding factor there.

Contact: detroitbikes@detroitsynergy.org
Cost: Free

May

Metro Grand Spring Tour

Length: 25, 45, 62 miles
Type: Scenic Group Ride
Date: 4 May 2008

This has been going on for 25 years, so it's a well established tour from Willow Metro Park in New Boston along the Huron River. Pancake breakfast to those who register.

I'd like to make this my first >15 mile run of the season, although whether it'll be a 25 or a 45 depends on how I'm feeling at this stage.

Contact: 313.381.2833 or mgst@yahoo.com
Cost: $16 individual/$43 family (after 30 April: $22/$55)
FAHRRAD

Length: 25, 50, 100K
Type: Group
Date: 18 May 2008

Starting (and ending) in Frankenmuth at the high school, the routes go along the Cass River and surrounding farming lands. Relatively flat with low to medium hills occasionally.

This should be pretty, and 25K is only like 15 miles, so it's a distance the kids can ride.

Contact: 989.652.2557 or drnancy94@yahoo.com
Cost: $15

June

Detroit Bikes!

Length: 20 miles
Type: Group Ride
Date: 7 June 2008

Another relatively short, free ride in Detroit. Includes bits of Hamtramck, Woodbridge, and the Heidleberg Project.

Contact detroitbikes@detroitsynergy.org
Cost: Free
Pedal Across Lower Michigan

Length: 280 miles
Type: Multi Day
Date: 21 - 27 June 2008

A roughly 300 mile multi-day ride across the lower peninsula. This is geared toward new tour riders, so the daily mileage is around 35-60; although most days have additional, optional miles (usually 1 century day is possible if you wish).

This sounds like something that might be fun to do with the kids next year possibly. They have already hit their limit for 2008, but hopefully next year my schedule will allow for it.

Contact: 734.669.0172 or palmbiketour@yahoo.com
Cost: $110 (11 - 16 years old $56, under 11 $55) Registration ends on 5/1 or at 700 riders

July

Holland Hundred Bicycle Tour

Length: 18, 36, 67, 100 miles
Type: Group Ride
Date: 19 July 2008

A beautiful ride through Holland, MI to benefit a number of local charities.

Contact info@macatawacyclingclub.org
Cost: $20 ($26 after 6 July)

August

Detroit Bikes! Tour de Dearborn

Length: 20 - 25 miles
Type: Group Ride
Date: 2 August 2008

This is right in my neck of the woods. Runs through Dearborn ending at the Ford Field for Dearborn's Homecoming Festival. You can bet we will be doing this one. Why not, it's free!

Contact detroitbikes@detroitsynergy.org
Cost: Free

September

One Day Ride Across Michigan

Length: 152
Type: Frickin' long - One Day
Date: 6 Sept 2008

One day trek from the west side of the state to Bay City. I absolutely want to give this a try; possibly this year. I'd like to get a century in at some point first though. Who's up for joining me?

Cost: $45 ($35 if you pre-register by early August)
Tour De Troit (registration)

Length: 40 mile
Type: Group Ride
Date: 20 Sep 2008

40 mile ride through Detroit and Belle Isle. 35 and 30 and 25 mile routes were available in 2007. There is a break near the 20 mile point. You can set your own pace, but the pack pace is about 12 miles per hour. It's all street riding, but there is a police escort to manage traffic.

Rennie and I did this last year and it was an absolute blast. We both decided that we totally have to grab a group and do it again this year. I plan on making this a "thing", so plan on joining me. This was my favorite ride of the year (although the Blue Water Ramble was up there).

Contact: 313.965.5853 or kelli.tourdetroit@gmail.com
Cost: $25 ($15 for students)
Apple Cider Century
Length: 25, 50, 62, 75, 100 mile
Type: Group Ride
Date: 28 Sept 2008

This is a century event, so the featured mileage is 100 miles. There are, however, 25, 50, 62 and 75 mile routes as well. This appears to be a huge thing, with events going on Saturday, an all-you-can-eat breakfast Sunday before the ride, and a Spaghetti Dinner after the race.

My hope is to be able to hit this one this year.

Contact: 888.877.2068 or bryan@applecidercentury.com
Cost: $25 ($45 after 31 March)

October

Blue Water Ramble

Length: 40, 60, 80, 100 mile
Type: Group Ride - International
Date: 6 Oct 2007

With 40, 60, 80, and 100 mile routes available, this was a great end-of season run for all skill levels. A ferry-ride into Canada (and back), a hot lunch, and SAG cart are features.

This was a great deal of fun. Several of us did the 60 mile and at no point did I feel outside of my comfort zone (although I was extremely wiped at ride's end). The ride was largely very pretty and never felt boring. I consider myself a beginner, and this was perfect for me.

Note, no day-of registration and a 1,200 rider limit

Contact: 586.879.0209 or bwr@lmb.org Cost: $15 ($18 after 23 August)

How to Get it Wrong

jer_ — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 03:00:00 EDT

It would be amusing, if it weren't so sad. Those who fight for feminist ideals have to struggle against not just the patriarchal need to portray capital-F Feminists as man-hating, reactionary, and logic-less; they also have to fight against self-professed Feminists who further those same stereotypes by their actions and words. Enter A Rapist's View of the World, _allecto_'s FUD filled jaunt through Joss Whedon's Firefly universe.

Let us just assume, for the sake of the argument, that every point Dani makes regarding the inherent misogyny within the confines of the television show Firefly (and the subsequent Serenity movie) are 100%, unequivocally true. I'll leave the dissection of the largely fallacious and severely maladjusted viewpoints expressed therein to those with more interest in chopping up pop culture into its various literal bits. Instead, let us observe how the author injects linguistic venom toward men into her screed, exposing her view not as that of a feminist pointing out a problem, but as a misandrist attacking men under the guise of feminism.

Let us begin with language. Language is supremely important. We'll start with something as simple as:

For myself, I'm not sure that I will recover from the shock of watching the way in which Joss stripped his female characters of their integrity, showed potentially powerful women bashed, demonized female power and selfhood, and smashed women into little bits, male fists in women's faces, male voices drowning out our words.

Now, this is a reasonable statement. I utterly disagree, but you can certainly see how this case could be plead. Instead, our esteemed author chose to phrase it this way:

For myself, I'm not sure that I will recover from the shock of watching the malicious way in which Joss stripped his female characters of their integrity, the pleasure he seemed to take from showing potentially powerful women bashed, the way he gleefully demonized female power and selfhood and smashed women into little bits, male fists in women's faces, male voices drowning out our words.

See any differences? Injecting words like "gleefully" and "malicious", indicating that there was "pleasure he seemed to take"; how could a rational person derive these emotions from watching the show, special features, or interviews and scripts that are readily a vailable? Simply put, one cannot. The author recognizes that the degree to which she expresses anger is only really justified if Joss's supposed transgressions are intentional and malicious, so she thrusts those intentions upon him. It is an insidious way to present your case; one lawyers, politicians, and liars of all bents grow to rely on. It is the plea to emotion, and it is fallacious in nature.

Of course, _allecto_ wasn't content to attack merely Whedon's body of work. In order to elevate him to true villain status, further ad hominem attacks were required. Dani goes on to state, while describing Inara's "whore" position on the ship:

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Joss uses his own wife in this way. Expects her to clean up his emotional messes. Expects her to be there,eternally supportive, eternally subservient and grateful to him in all his manly glory. I hope the money is worth it, Mrs. Whedon.

Let that sink in for a moment. In an attempt to smear Joss Whedon with the misogynist and rapist (yes, rapist) brush, the author indicates that Joss's wife is whoring herself for his vast wealth and that he must treat her horribly, without any evidence of this that this is; and it is typical of someone lashing out at an object of his or her hatred--this lack of care about collateral damage, this lack of concern for the actual people involved. Whedon and his family are merely fodder for an anti-male agenda to people like _allecto_, case in point:

I feel awful for Joss Whedon's wife. From what I've read about him and the interviews I've watched, I'm fairly certain that he rapes his wife and abuses her in various other ways. I honestly can't think of anything worse than living with a man like Joss who thinks of women like the way he portrays in his tv shows. How awful.The comment about the money was meant to be about how I personally could see no benefit from being with a man like Joss OTHER than money.Joss uses and abuses her. Probably rapes her and thinks of women as whores etc, etc. Obviously, Ms Whedon has her own reasons for staying. Fear, patriarchal concepts of love, etc. But I would argue that she gives everything and gets nothing. Money is the only concrete thing that she could possibly gain. But as I said money is worth nothing compared with self-integrity, self-esteem, love(sister/lesbian/ gynaffectionate love) etc. So she still loses out. Poor woman.

This is a direct quote (emphasis mine) by _allecto_ in the comments of her post. Apparently the only form of love is that between two women; affection between two men is homo-erotic and between a man and a woman is unfathomable or rape.

As if that were not enough, _allecto_'s racial issues surface in the middle of her uninformed diatribe as well.

Let me just say now that I have never personally known of a healthy relationship between a white man and a woman of colour.

Well let me just say now that anecdotal racism is still racism. Period. Full stop. End of story. This is absolutely no different than every misogynist preaching that women are inferior or every racist preaching race X is inferior.

The problem isn't that one misguided, ignorant individual is exercising her free speech on the Internet; I mean, this is the Internet after all, home to all manner of fools and bigots. The problem is that, by calling herself a "radical feminist", she is making herself part of the problem; a tremendous part. Every "radical feminist" like this demeans every rational feminist in existence. It lends credence to arguments that feminism is mere man-hatred. It gives demagogues something to point to when they're trying to persuade reasonable people that feminists have nothing logical or intelligent to say. One well formulated rebuttal of feminism, citing a handful of articles of this nature, can do significant damage to the valid educational efforts that feminism is striving toward. For feminist causes to continue to make headway, this sort of thing must cease, or at least a manner of managing the damage it causes must be found.

Unfortunately, saying "she's not a real feminist" is insufficient. To begin with, it is a fallacy of equivocation; there is no definition of a "real feminist", so there can be no "true feminist" by which these pseudo-feminists can be measured and discarded. More is required. What we are stuck with is constantly having to defend true, rational feminism from being usurped by the "radical feminists" who are really no such thing. I know it exists, though. I am currently engaged to a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman who is a feminist-- a feminist that has maintained her sense of humor, dignity, and logic despite a cottage industry designed to get women to act any way but. The difficulty lies in showing others that these sort of people (and, frankly, these sort of arguments) exist.

What can we do? I, for one, have started to be more careful what causes or champions I am willing to promote. Close examination of the views of those feminists that I have chosen to laud as enlightened has yielded some eye-opening information. But that's just a start; the most important thing we can do is to persevere, and loudly. Don't be scared away from pointing out when a fellow feminist expresses a patently absurd idea. Don't fear being labeled as owned or fooled by the patriarchy (or as just another man who wouldn't know what he's talking about anyway). It takes a tremendous amount of courage, but that courage is out there. Recognize for every Sheila Cronan or Valerie Solanas (or our esteemed rape-redefiner Dani, here), there are women like Betty Friedan, Maxine Kingston, and Christina Hoff Sommers; brilliant women that fight for equity feminism as opposed to separatist, divisive feminism. Finally, it is time to take back the language. I subscribe to Katha Pollitt's belief that gender politics that seek to divide rather than unite should be referred to as sexist, rather than feminist. Men and women that subscribe to these beliefs aren't feminists, they are sexists--practitioners of misogyny and misandry. Nothing more.

Generally speaking, I am no longer shocked when I read such libelous, odious, and noisome tripe. That fact bothers me more than anything else.

The War on Perverts

jer_ — Thu, 21 Feb 2008 22:12:00 EST

Freedoms are a tricky thing. Not only do we have to fight for those freedoms with which we agree, but if we are to truly be free, we have to fight for those freedoms with which we are adamantly opposed. I think that this part is obvious to anyone reading this. The positive side to my obscure little corner of the net is that the vast majority of people that read my musings tend to be like-minded or mostly like- minded individuals. Where our viewpoints differ tends to be on the more detail-oriented items, but it seems to me that on the big-picture stuff, we all read from the same book, overall. There are elements, however, that blur the line. Today I want to talk about War-Line.

I first ran across War-Line when it was linked from a web forum I frequent. The text of the link described founder John Reneer's practice of sitting outside of adult bookstores and photographing the customers for later posting on his website's You're Busted page.

Why would he do this? According to their mission statement:

At War-Line we intend to focus attention on people and places that we believe promote demeaning sexual practices or exhibit sexually violent or aggressive behavior.

What can I say? This sounds great, in theory. In practice, there's some tricky wording in there. Most notably, "people and places that we believe promote" such behaviors. What does John think promotes those behaviors? According to an email exchange that I have had with him for the past week or so, pornography:

I do not propose or believe that everyone who watches porn will commit a sexual crime. On the other hand, there is a large body of evidence including case studies which directly connect the use of porn to serial rape and often murder.

The Slippery Slope

Here is where we mount our slippery slope and see how long we can manage to stay atop. Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that there is a direct, provable, causative link between pornography and serial rape despite arguments to the contrary and even research indicating the exact opposite; we'll just assume it's true. What percentage of porno consumers end up committing sexual crimes? Well, the numbers here are insanely hazy; so much so that a skeptical person might call this research into question entirely. Let us assume, also for the sake of argument, that 25% of all porn consumers go on to commit some sexual crime. I think we can all agree that 25% is probably way over the top.

So, we've established a hypothetical, causative link between porn and rape in which fully 1 in 4 people that purchase porn commit a sex crime. Now what? Do we ban porn? Do we assume that all porn should be stopped? Should we post the pictures of consumers of pornography so that our puritan society can ostracize them?

Rational beings should agree that such actions would be ridiculous; and it stands to reason that if it's foolhardy in the above, perfect scenario, it is certainly ignorant to do so in the real world, where there is no such proved link, let alone a link that yields a 1:4 ratio. We would be throwing the baby out with the bathwater. This amounts to thought-crime. War-Line's premise is that if you are turned on by bondage or pornography, you are a mere step away from rape or sexual assault; so the purveyors and consumers of bondage gear or porn are not innocent, and deserve no protection from being "outed" on the internet for the denizens of kink that they are.

Judgmental, much?

I have no desire to argue the case as to whether pornography can cause rape, nor do I wish to argue even the potential link between the two. That has been argued in a much more scientific fashion than I am prepared to do here, and the jury is still out; what can I possibly add to that discussion. What I do want to argue is whether or not the potential link to a small percentage of sexual assaults should be remedied by treating all pornographers, sellers of sex toys, and customers of the both as criminals.

The Bully Mentality

The fact of the matter is, pornography, especially niche-kink pornography, is an easy target for such bully tactics. Who is going to come out in favor of porn? Who is going to argue for a person's right to masturbate by humping an inflatable sheep? What sane politician is going to go to the mat over virtual kiddie porn? Damnably few, damagingly few. So John Reneer can freely destroy the lives of innocent people on his anti-porn crusade. Even better, he can hide behind the rhetorical "for the children" that has become so fashionable as of late. From our email discussion:

The innocent are punished? That is synonymous to saying that because there is a possibility of collateral damage it is improper to fight a war to protect ourselves, our country, our loved ones, even when the safety and lives of our children are at stake.

Note the insidious sneaking in of how urgent it is to defend our children and loved ones from this "war". Clearly, if I am against his methods, I must be on the other side of his "war". This mentality has proven pervasive throughout his writing. Later in the same email he refers to the customers of porn shops with more war metaphor:

That is especially true when your "innocent" intentionally place themselves right in the middle of the battle zone where they see bullets and mortar shells thick in the air after having passed warning signs along the way.

The "bully mentality" is further reinforced by even a cursory review of the contents of the War-Line website. On the You're Busted page, pictures feature snide filenames such as "Oops She got the wrong side worked on" describing a woman's posterior, "getting fat and sloppy" next to a picture of a porn store employee, and "Maybe she got Belly Augmentation" on a woman's photograph. These remarks are not typical of individuals trying to "make a change" or "prevent rape". These are the remarks of an angry bully, lashing out. Similarly, remarks from the News page bear the similar phrasing.

She tried having a life in the worlde[sic] of her favorite cheerleader coach, but hubby and the coach both nixed that. Hubby because he was jealous and the coach because he was sicken[sic] at the thought of her.

and

In addition to all that she is a fat embarrassment to all those who have to associate with her, including Cathy and the other Allen family girls. My goodness, she sure is a fat little mess.

Now, are these the words of an activist out to make a difference, or is such petty name-calling more commensurate with generic bullying? Could John just be lashing out at people whose sexual proclivities differ from his own? From one of his emails to me:

I just do not believe you are taking all the facts into consideration or giving appropriate importance to the real problem, which is NOT the comfort or discomfort of people with perverted sexual needs and habits.

So, all you perverts that use sex toys, practice BDSM, or enjoy pornography, be on notice; War-Line considers you fodder for the greater good.

Application of Freedoms

And here is the crux of the matter. John Reneer and his cronies hide behind the very freedoms they deplore. They need the freedoms this country offers in order to photograph individuals against their will, and they need those freedoms to post the pictures. They need these freedoms when they post snarky commentary about the people they dislike. All the while, they desire to strip from others the freedom to engage in their sexual practices free from discrimination, punishment, or ostracism. In a perfect world, these photographs would not matter. In reality, such pictures could legitimately destroy a person's family, livelihood, and social standing.

No, this War on Perverts that War-Line has cleverly disguised as the War on Rape must be exposed for the fraud that it is. It begins by acknowledging that when no crime has been committed, there is no victim and there is no punishment--something John Reneer and his War-Line gang need to recognize.

I would love to invite commentary on this topic. Please, discuss away by clicking the Comments? link below. You can post anonymously even (although those messages require me to unscreen them, merely to keep down spam; I assure you, if you post it and it's not an advertisement, it'll go up). So what do you think?

Books of 2007

jer_ — Sun, 27 Jan 2008 02:56:00 EST

Geeks, at least in the modern incarnation, place a lot of weight in what (and to a lesser degree, in how much) they read. This has always been more than a bit of a bother to me, because I don't remember the titles of all of the books I read. I don't always remember what I've had for breakfast this week, so the thought of memorizing literally thousands of book titles is beyond my comprehension.

That being said, it is inconvenient. When people ask how many books I read in a year, I have no idea. I've always thrown out the 30 or 40 number because it seemed arbitrarily plausible, although it has always sounded more than a little high to me. I mean, approaching a book a week; surely I don't read that much.

So this year I set out to document every book I read. As with most of my little endeavors, it began a lot more strong than it ended, but I kept it up and documented a roughly chronological listing of my reading for the year. Near the end it gets less chronological, as I would finish a book and lob it into a pile to enter later... so there are clumps that are in something like an order. Also, I am SURE I missed a book or two, but I'll be damned if I can remember what it/they is/are.

So with no further ado, the books I read from 1 Jan 2007 to 31 Dec 2007:

Attack of the Bacon Robots (Penny Arcade, Vol. 1) by Jerry Holkins
Even if you have never missed an episode of Penny Arcade, I cannot recommend this (or any of their compilations) enough. The additional commentary totally makes it.
Killing Floor by Lee Child
Lee Child is a fantastic author, and although I often get very bored with novels that follow one protagonist through adventure after adventure (Clive Cussler, are you listening?), Jack Reacher is as cool a hero as you can get... all the calm, cool, collected, and suave of 007, but throw in a blue-collar work ethic and a cold demeanor.
The Innocent by Harlan Coben
There isn't a single book by Coben that I have read to date during which I have failed to get a chill down my spine when he reveals the dramatic plot twist. This usually happens in the middle of the book. He then proceeds to repeat this for effect for a couple hundred more pages. I absolutely love this.
The Enemy by Lee Child
Just read Lee Child's stuff. Trust me.
Act of War by Dale Brown
This isn't Dan Brown. If you are into Clancy-esque techno-war-action-adventure stories, but with a NEW plot and interesting characters, this is pretty solid. It's not high art, but it was entertaining.
The Last Prophecy by Jon Land
This made me yearn for its undiluted older brother, The Davinci Code... painful to read.
You Suck: A Love Story by Christopher Moore
I can't think of anybody that I think deserves the honor of being called Douglas Adams reincarnated more than Christopher Moore. Seriously, he channels Adams without being even slightly derivative. I've read several of his books, and I am on a quest to own them all. (Oh, and this was an amazingly appreciated gift from my amazing girlfriend).
Pawn of Prophecy by David Eddings
Yes, somehow I made it into my thirties as a SF/Fantasy enthusiast without having ever read any Eddings whatsoever. This has now been rectified as I read both the Belgariad and the Mallorean sets back to back. I really enjoyed them all. I found them to be very much lifted from other books in the genre, until I realized that THESE were the books being robbed from by modern fantasy (not that David didn't commit his own instances of excessive-homage here). The plot is enjoyable, the action is well paced, and the characters are extraordinarily fun.
Queen of Sorcery by David Eddings
Penny Arcade Volume 3: The Warsun Prophecies by Jerry Holkins
Magician's Gambit by David Eddings
Castle of Wizardry by David Eddings
Enchanters' End Game by David Eddings
Friday by Robert A. Heinlein
Revisiting my childhood here, this was the first Heinlein ever read. Somehow I managed to make it past this one to find a profound love for most of his other books. Uneven, as several separate stories stitched together tends to be.
The Cat Who Walks Through Walls by Robert A. Heinlein
Not one of my favorites, but a fun read.
The Fuck-Up by Arthur Nersesian
Go out, find and buy this book right now. I've never found myself so sympathetic and yet so repulsed by a single character before. A plot so fantastic that it could only have been stolen directly from real life in some fibbed manner, and characters that had me laughing out loud in public routinely.
Bleachers by John Grisham
At some point, John Grisham apparently recognized that he was completely typecast as that dude who writes the lawyer books; so he has been writing out-of-genre in an attempt to prove that he is something more. He is entirely successful. This is no A Painted House, but it is damned good on its own.
The Broker by John Grisham
You get what you expect. A fun, well written book about a lawyer falling into adventure. Letter perfect and no less enjoyable for its formula.
A Time to Kill by John Grisham
Reading Bleachers put me in a Grisham mood, so I read a few because I do love them, despite how "normal" that must make me.
Guardians of the West by David Eddings
You have to be a pretty good author to write the same exact story twice in a row, and have me read it excitedly both times in the same six month period. Well done.
King of the Murgos by David Eddings
Demon Lord of Karanda by David Eddings
Sorceress of Darshiva by David Eddings
The Seeress of Kell by David Eddings
Belgarath the Sorcerer by Leigh Eddings
This was pretty fun, as Belgarath was one of my favorite characters from the stories. It got a bit long-winded at times, but I liked it overall.
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
I got it for the kids, and had to re-read it. Holy crap can this book still bring me to sobbing, sloppy, snot-filled tears. At the end, Geralyn looked up at me as I read on the couch and said "Are you actually CRYING?" When she reread it, she was similarly afflicted. I feel vindicated.
Polgara the Sorceress by David Eddings
I feel like I might have enjoyed this more if I had waited longer after reading all of the other Eddings books. I love Polgara as a character, but I just couldn't take even more repetition and I was very burnt out by this time.
Blindness by Jose Saramago
Oh... My... God... It is pretty rare that I find myself as impressed by award winning books as the award granting authority did. This and Life of Pi are profound exceptions to that truth. There are books that are sad, then there are books that will drive you into such a state of depression that you have to remove razor blades from your home for the duration. This was exactly that sort of book. I find myself considering re-reading it, but I don't know if I can afford the debilitating depression that accompanies it. Utterly beautiful.
Farnham's Freehold by Robert A. Heinlein
Libertarianism expressed without million-page monologues. Take that, Ayn Ryand! Oh, and lest I forget, blatantly obvious commentary on racism. I enjoy this book every time I read it, despite its lack of subtlety (or, perhaps, FOR its lack of subtlety).
Alternities by David Gerrold
A series of short SF stories that were starnge and different and not necessarily good. SF Erotica mostly.
A Chip Hilton Sports Story, Fourth Down Showdown by Clair Bee
Somehow, I ended up with several off-the-wall books from my friend Nick. This was one of them, and I read it in, I think, an hour. My brother used to survive on sports fiction like this. I hope he feels shame in the memory now. :P
Transmetropolitan Vol. 0: Tales of Human Waste by Warren Ellis
Long live Spider Jerusalem. Every one of these I read makes me want to be a journalist that makes a difference, knows about politics, and doesn't give a shit what anyone says. Then I pull up Internet porn and jerk myself to sleep. We already have a Spider Jerusalem, his name is Warren Ellis, and he is one angry motherfucker.
Transmetropolitan Vol. 1: Back on the Street by Warren Ellis
Transmetropolitan Vol. 2: Lust for Life by Warren Ellis
Life of Pi by Yann Martel
Fantastic. I was spellbound by this narrative. I see why people glow over it. I am, however, horrifically late to the party, so you probably all knew all of this already.
Invincible: Ultimate Collection, Vol. 1 by Robert Kirkman
I am not a huge fan of superhero comics, but this is just great. It is funny, well drawn, engaging, and novel. It is what Nova could have been, but never quite was.
Invincible: Ultimate Collection, Vol. 2 by Robert Kirkman
Invincible: Ultimate Collection, Vol. 3 by Robert Kirkman
Lucifer's Hammer by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle
A "the world falls into armageddon" that deals almost entirely with the goings on immediately before and after armageddon happens. Now it seems like an obvious story to tell, but that's only after reading this brilliant treatment of it. There might be hope for humanity yet, but it's going to require a bloody comet crash!
Invincible: Ultimate Collection, Vol. 4 by Robert Kirkman
Transmetropolitan Vol. 4: The New Scum by Warren Ellis
My second favorite of this series.
Beloved by Toni Morrison
This is award winning. This is an important book! This expressed deep, important ideas. I found it to be truly and profoundly boring.
Enders Shadow by Orson Scott Card
I found this and grabbed it because I thought I had somehow missed it. Ten pages in, I realized that not only had I read it, but I own it. Nonetheless, it was fun to revisit it, and it prompted a visit back to an old favorite, Ender's Game.
Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri
A collection of great short stories told from the perspective of Indian immigrants. Each is intricate, involving, and left me feeling like I should have gotten more out of them than I did. I re-read this immediately after I finished it the first time, I loved the stories so much.
Tunnel Vision by Keith Lowe
Like The Fuck-Up, this is the story of a guy I can relate to, not because I share his obsession with the London underground (the trains), but because you can feel how he gets so wrapped up in things that rapidly spin beyond his grasp that he ends up just running along behind events, trying not to get eaten alive. I enjoyed it enough that I read it twice this year.
The Puppet Masters by Robert A. Heinlein
This was the second Heinlein I ever read. I revisit it periodically, and I've bought more copies of it than I care to consider.
Transmetropolitan Vol. 3: Year of the Bastard by Warren Ellis
Transmetropolitan Vol. 5: Lonely City by Warren Ellis
Invincible: Ultimate Collection, Vol. 5 by Robert Kirkman
Dreamland by Dale Brown
Have Spacesuit, Will Travel by Robert A. Heinlein
When Sysadmins Ruled the Earth by Cory Doctrow
This was my first exposure to Cory Doctrow. As a result, I am going through everything else he's written.
Neuromancer by William Gibson
I somehow read this growing up but couldn't remember any details. I wasn't missing all that much, the story itself was fantastic, but the writing was kludgey enough to make it hard for me to read.
Stardust by Neil Gaiman
This is how fairy tales should all be told. Awesome story, if you've seen the movie, you definitely need to read the book now.
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
Gaimen created a brand new, modern fairy tale, then sold me on the notion that I'd known about it my whole life. For once, the hero actually feels real to me.
Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom by Cory Doctorow
In one book, Cory invents a form of social capital, a technological revolution, and a sociology wrapped around the Magic Kingdom; all woven around a great mystery story.
Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town by Cory Doctorow
This felt like it should have been so much more. At every point during the reading of this I felt like I should be getting more out of it, or like I was *just* missing something that would really tie it all together. Fortunately, Matt has taken some steps to fix the problem with his remix of the story.
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J. K. Rowling
I had to go back and reread all of the books in preparation for the final chapter. Don't judge me!
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling
Coraline by Neil Gaiman
It's almost too horrifying to truly be a children's story, but somehow it works as one.
Eastern Standard Tribe by Cory Doctorow
Doctorow writes some of the most beautiful, fun to read prose you can buy, and he comes up with some amazing plots. These things typically make up for weak characters that feel like color-by-numbers. That isn't true here, this is Cory's perfect novel.
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J. K. Rowling
Worth the wait? Certainly. Unexpected? Not so much. A good read? It was as much fun as the rest, if not more so.
Penny Arcade Volume 2: Epic Legends Of The Magic Sword Kings by Jerry Holkins
Penny Arcade Volume 4: Birds Are Weird by Jerry Holkins
Invincible: Ultimate Collection, Vol. 6 by Robert Kirkman
The Hard Way by Lee Child
Darkness & Light - Preludes V.1 by Tonya Carter
This might have been the worst load of crap I've ever read. Ever. I struggled my way through it hoping for some payoff. The payoff was that ultimately, Carter ran out of words. Thank god!
Star Beast by Robert A. Heinlein
I had forgotten this one entirely. This was my first exposure to the idea that humans might not be the most advanced species in the galaxy. Though the idea has been hit upon repeatedly since, this is a fun introductory take on it. My son loves it.
Job: A Comedy of Justice by Robert A. Heinlein
I love this book, it's one of my favorite Heinlein SF, along with Stranger in a Strange Land, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, and Time Enough for Love.
The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman
O NOES! The atheists figured out how to write books! C.S. Lewis will be so pissed. Interesting, if not derivative, story. Reasonably well writted, but the later books get somewhat better.
The Husband by Dean Koontz
I love Koontz for a quick, time-killing read. This was better than normal Koontz. Good stuff.
Refugee (Bio of a Space Tyrant, Vol 1) by Piers Anthony
Piers Anthony finally decided to shuck off the subtlety and just write porn, in this case a long, involved rape fantasy; but a surprisingly entertaining one. Sometime I have to read the rest of them.
Hornet Flight by Ken Follett
This is the adventure version of Pillars of the Earth, and every bit as good. A must-read.
Transmetropolitan Vol. 6: Gouge Away by Warren Ellis
Transmetropolitan Vol. 7: Spider's Thrash by Warren Ellis
Invincible: Ultimate Collection, Vol. 7 by Robert Kirkman
Programming Logic and Design -- Comprehensive by Joyce Farrell
I was evaluating this book for use as a textbook. This is a bit *too* comprehensive for my purposes, but its little brother, the Intro version, on the other hand is perfect.
The Cave of the Chinese Skeletons by Jack Seward
Another one of those weird books from Nick. Not a good one.
Running Linux by Matt Welsh
Another evaluation read. These turn into the most involved, time-consuming reads ever. This is a great Linux primer.
Rogue Warrior: Green Team by Richard Marcinko
Marcinko writes about the military that I wished I was joining... it's too bad it's not like that anymore. It's fun to read the words of an unrepentant warrior.
The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible by A. J. Jacobs
This was another gift to me from Ger. She knows me so well. Jacobs undertook his quest and wrote about it in a fun, non-judgmental, interesting manner. A wildly entertaining read.
Object-Oriented Programming Using C++ by Joyce Farrell
Best introductory C++ text I've ever read.
Girls Volume 1: Conception by Joshua Luna
An interesting start to what could be a pretty great story. I'll have to read another issue or two to see.
Walden by Henry David Thoreau
C'mon, it's Walden! Good stuff.
On the Duty of Civil Disobedience by Henry David Thoreau
It's *STILL* Walden, eh!?
Lenin's Brain by Tilman Spengler
Ugh. That's it. Just, Ugh!
Echo Platoon by Richard Marcinko
Common Culture: Reading and Writing About American Popular Culture by Michael F Petracca
PHP 5 In Practice by Elliott White & Jonathan D. Eisenhamer
I don't know, it helped me write the crappy PHP that runs this site and Penguicon.org.
Dean Koontz's Frankenstein, Book Two: City of Night by Dean Koontz
Again, it's Koontz, so it's never *bad*. This is a modern-day retelling of the Frankenstein story. I eagerly await the third installment.
Hideaway by Dean Koontz
A okay story with a great ending.
Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz
The BEST Koontz ever.
Forever Odd by Dean Koontz
Not a bad followup to the BEST Koontz ever.
Up from the Bottomless Pit and Other Stories by Philip Jose Farmer
I've never read Farmer, so it's rather an oddity to find that he's something of an icon amongst SF writers. The short story for whch this collection is named illustrates why brilliantly. The rest is of similarly high quality. Now I need to find more by Farmer.
Fallen Angels by Larry Niven
This was my first introduction to fandom. I read this in my teenage years and didn't think the characters were very realistic at all. Now that I've gotten involved in fandom, I see that I couldn't have been more wrong. If anything, he toned down the characters for realism.
Full Frontal Feminism: A Young Woman's Guide to Why Feminism Matters by Jessica Valenti
I was very excited to read this book when first I heard about it. I mean, I had been reading Jessica's blog, Feministing for quite a while, and found her to spread a rational message of reasonable feminist ideals. This book marks the start of her descent into the madness of 3rd wave feminine insanity. There are some very good points in here, but much of it is encapsulated in the detritus of poorly formed arguments and fallacious logic. Still a worthy read, but not as great as I'd hoped.
The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand
It's like reading Atlas Shrugged, but with real characters, shorter monologues, and a somewhat more satisfying story. Of course, martyrdom gets old, but if you can stomach it to get through to the payoff, well... you can witness a bit more martyrdom!
Silent Bob Speaks: The Collected Writings of Kevin Smith by Kevin Smith
I love everything that Kevin Smith writes. This is fantastic by any standard though. Interesting insight into the man, if you are interested in him at all. It is like the literary version of his "Evening with..." lectures.
My Boring Ass Life: The Uncensored Diary of Kevin Smith
As much as I love Kevin Smith, about half way through, this gets to be a bit much... but the "Me and My Shadow" story of Jason Mewes's struggle with drug addiction makes the entire book worthwhile.
Brother Odd by Dean Koontz
This was better than Forever Odd but not *quite* as good as Odd Thomas. Very enjoyable.
Golden Apples of the Sun by Ray Bradbury
This was pretty okay. The writing, itself, was fantastic, but I found the story to be only moderately entertaining.
Book of the Moon by Hockney
If you have ever found yourself even slightly interested in the moon, get this book. Information is given in an entertaining and easy to follow way.
Past Due by William Lashner
An average pop-media murder- mystery. The story is pretty good. The writing is well done. Fun and time passing.
Windows XP Inside Out by Bott and Seichert
The Magic Goes Away by Larry Niven
I really wish I could say that I loved this more... I mean, it's Larry Niven, but it's really, really bad Niven.
The Experience Economy by Pine & Gilmore
If you are involved in event marketing (or marketing through events in general), this is a must read. (Cons count, folks).
Creature by John Saul
Comfort reading. I've read it so many times, and it's always a fun way to pass time.
Scroogled by Cory Doctorow
It's not a long story, but it is a really thought provoking, interesting story. Read it!

In this coming year, I would love to read more Stross, Gaiman, Doctorow, while making some time to fill in some gaps in my reading pedigree (any Philip K. Dick and Asimov that I haven't read, for example). I really wish I had some witty summary to this whole thing but... umm.. that's it.

ConFusion 2008 Report

jer_ — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 23:48:00 EST

As I mentioned in my last post, ConFusion utterly and completely rocked... and now for the details (as always, of course I'm going to forget names, details, and all kinda other stuff... please, feel free to remind me of fun events I neglected to mention or names I mess up in the comments below):

Friday Afternoon

I managed to hit the hotel around noon and, after greeting our conchair (Brendan), Aaron, and Roxanne setting up registration, I made my way upstairs to the ConSuite to meet up with our assistant conchair, Jess, so I could set up the volunteer station in the lobby. Several hours working volunteers (thank you so much Jess and Jenann(sp?) for your sign making prowess) gave me time to play a new game with Matt, along with Eric and Cathy Raymond (the game was a blast, as was the company).

Friday Night

Around 5ish, Allison, Amanda, and I went to Costco on a shopping run for the Penguicon room party where I entertained myself at the expense of the gals (mostly Allison) through sliding things in their purses, begging a man not to poison himself with fabric softener, questing for chips, being a poor cart driver, and--most of all--being very, very gregarious!

Since Friday was Chuck's birthday, Matt, Rachael, Chuck's wife Rachael, and Amanda joined him for dinner across the street at Champps. Great food, great company... what a great start to the con. Upon our return to the hotel, it was time for room-party hopping interrupted only occasionally by having to find a volunteer for some department or another. After some gaming in the ConSuite, Ger finally made it to the hotel despite the crappy weather between her place and Troy. We were both tired, so we just went to bed. In bed by midnight and asleep by 230am.

Saturday

Up for what was meant to be a relatively early breakfast that kept getting pushed later and later as I dealt with the various quasi-emergencies that popped up here and there. Ultimately, Ger and I hit a quick meal at a local Ram's Horn then returned so that I could work the Volunteers table for a couple of hours to fill in some much needed gaps. Suddenly, it was time for Catherynne Valente to read an excerpt from her most recent book. I must confess, I have read nothing from Miss Valente in the past. In fact, I'd never even heard of her until this weekend. Having listened to her read, I've added her award winning The Orphan's Tales: In the Night Garden to my wishlist (actually, if they had it in the dealer's room, I'd already own it).

From there, it was off to a panel that Ger and I were really into about Feminism in science fiction, and when we finally found the room, imagine our surprise when the Ferrett and Catherynne were on that panel too! It turned out to be a very good panel, although in the middle one of my ongoing irritations with modern feminism reared its head... but it was a minor quibble in an otherwise fantastic panel.

Panel highlight: Patrick Rothfuss was making a point (a very valid point, in my opinion, for the record) and, in the midst of it, referred to a video game joystick as a penis. As the word "penis" left his mouth, the lights in the ballroom dimmed to complete darkness. There was several moments of awkward silence before someone (I think panelist and author Sarah Zettel) said in a firm, clear voice "Vagina"--inexplicably bringing the lights back up to full brightness. See, vaginas are SOOOO much more useful than penises.

After the panel, Ger and I hopped into the much awaited (at least by me) How to Improv workshop put on by Space Time Improv (who I would throw a link to if they would get a webpage. Wait, I said the same thing LAST YEAR!). Notably, we looked forward to seeing Guido and Dawn again. Unfortunately, moments into the workshop, all hell broke loose with several con-related snafus causing my phone to start ringing like it forgot how to stop, so I had to bail and do some problem solving for several hours. Ger, however, stayed behind and was--by all accounts--a huge success. I suggest that all of you ask her to re-enact her role as "nymphomaniac gamer" if you get a chance.

After chatting with Kat (who I was so excited to see made it despite a sick significant other), Ferrett, Randy, Sheryl (and their delightful, alliterative young'ns) and several other folks whose names I either failed to get, should have known, or just plain forgot; we zipped upstairs to help set up the Penguicon room party.

I helped Allison, Matt, and Amanda arrange the room to some degree and get things ordered up that we might need (tables and chairs and such). It was decided that for traffic flow and room purposes, we would take our pre-registrations in the hall outside the door, as our registration person has expressed some degree of consternation at having to be in cramped quarters in the past. For those keeping score at home, hold on to that little tidbit, it will come back to bite my ass later.

At about 6pm, Ger and I were leaving to take a nap, and we asked Amanda to please call if there were any problems.

At 6:30, we got a call. There were problems.

Crisis Control

Apparently, our reg person was complaining about being stuck out in the hall, despite the extreme lack of room inside the party. I got dressed and came downstairs only to find that when I asked the reg folks if there were any problems, all complaints mysteriously dried up.

In the interim, a miscommunication with regards to the appreciation pizza party for the volunteers meant that the pizzas showed up for an 8PM party at 6:40. Oh, and since the party was to be in the sleeping space, we had the further delightful problem of someone sleeping in each crash room.

The upside to this micro-fiasco was that Krista(?), Brendan, Jenna, and everyone else involved really pulled together to help me out so we were able to throw the shindig early in the Concierge Lounge (awesome diggs for such a thing, by the way) and all was well.

But thank god for Ger, because while I was solving this issue, I got another call that the reg person from the room party has decided to take registrations while sitting on the toilet.

Sitting... on.. the.. fucking... toilet

I know, it boggles the mind. So Ger babysat the pizzas in the lounge while I ran upstairs and played a passive aggressive game I like to call "are we really doing this bullshit" for a while until things became rational again.

Crises averted, we decided that naptime wasn't in the cards so we went party hopping.

Saturday Night

The parties were AWESOME. As always, the Gaylaxians did an amazing job, and I have been fairly well BEGGING them to come to Penguicon. Amanda could not have done a better job of putting Cafe Penguicon on the map. Thank you so much Amanda and Allison. And you would have to SEE the Pirate Party to believe it. Nothing short of astonishing.

During the wandering, we happened upon the Ferrett, Catherynne, Randy, and Sheryl's little social experiment (oh, and Mike was finally feeling much better and was able to join us). I fear that I don't want to give away the potential surprise at Penguicon; suffice to say that A) the experiment was a complete success, B) all of the ladies have gorgeous breasts, and C) if any of the above people say to you "hey, we're doing a social experiment, want to come along" the correct answer is an enthusiastic "Yes!".

Ultimately, Dawn and Greg made it back to the hotel, where we wandered about and just generally laughed ourselves sick before I pussed out and declared my need for sleep... or at least the need to go to bed.

Sunday

The con was over too soon, so we helped break down, went to the feedback session, then chilled at the dead dog party until dinner, which was fantastic Vietnamese/Thai with Matt, Rachael, Nick and Amanda. (For the record, it totally kicked Coney Island's ass. CONEY'S SUCK, ETHNIC FOOD 4 LIFE.

After dinner, we retired to casa de Nick and Amanda for coffee and such where the gals started planning for their Invader Zim themed room party at Penguicon, and discussed the possibility of throwing a lingere themed party one of the nights.

Yes, you read that right. These two babes are kickin' around the idea of throwing a lingere party at Penguicon. I don't know what it's going to take to make this happen... but happen it MUST! So if you would be interested in attending such a thing, make your voice heard right here! Guys, gals, lets make this work! :)

So... what and who did I forget? I know there's some, so let me know, and while you're at it, please post links to YOUR reports, or others you've read. I want to read about what your time at con was like.

Lancemas

jer_ — Thu, 27 Dec 2007 03:00:00 EST

My kids cannot completely comprehend how much different the people they call "Grandma" and "Grandpa" are than the people I call "Mom" and "Dad"; but before I can adequately describe how different the Christmas experience is for my children as compared to that of mine, it is important for me to describe to you the psychological torture that is a Lance Christmas (heretofore known as Lancemas^tm).

Obtaining the Tree
There was no such thing as a parking-lot tree for the Lance's. Instead, we bundle up and go looking for a tree in the woods. As a child, it never really occurred to me, but I'm reasonably confident, now, that such forays almost had to be illegal... at least I don't recall cash changing hands for the privilege of trudging through knee-deep-on-a-child snow in the Central New York winter to find the perfect tree... and I do mean perfect.

No tree was precisely right. This is too short, that is too tall, long-needled pines were preferred over those with short. Of course, whichever tree we chose had to be balanced well, with full, dense branches and a straight trunk.

Now, this wasn't something we dreaded... as testimony to how short our memories were, each year was a new transition from excitement to exhaustion to complaining to misery.
Decorating the Tree
Of course, once we've dragged home the perfect tree, trimmed it up properly, and stood it PERFECTLY LEVEL in the living room (a process that is not without it's own nightmarish stories), it is, of course, time to decorate the tree.

There is a process involved in hanging ornaments from the tree that is so intricate... so complex... so beyond mortal comprehension that even 25 years of devoted instruction couldn't yield to us its secrets.

It begins with the tree topper. We always had two. An angel, from my father's youth and a star. Never once, in 31 Christmases, has that star made it to the top of the tree. Not once. It's not that we didn't LIKE the angel, but my brother and I desperately wanted nothing more than to see the frickin' star on the tree just ONE DAMNED TIME!¹

Ooops, sorry, lost myself there.

Next up is the ornamentation, which would seem to be a fairly simple, straight-forward process. You would be wrong. There is a method, and it goes a little something like this:

Store-bought ornaments go on last, aside from those given as gifts. Or those that have meaning. Or those that aren't generic. Or those that are otherwise special.

Next, ornaments be hung in a balanced manner, around the tree. That means no ornaments too near one another, and certainly no similar ornaments near one another. What constitutes similarity between ornaments? It can't be described to you, but I will assure you that when you get it wrong... you'll know it. Add to this the further complications that transparent or translucent ornaments should be hung in front of a light (save for where it would violate the "ornaments too near one another" rule), ornaments should be hung ALL THE WAY around the tree (but the "good" ones will be hung up front [unless it violates the aforementioned "ornaments too near one another" rule]). Oh, and don't break one. Just don't.

After the tears have been dried and the fights have been ended from the ornaments, it's time for the tinsel. The tinsel is my special form of hell, because it must be hung one strand at a time.

One... frigging... strand... at... a... time...

I don't think you can completely grasp the amount of tinsel that comes in one dollar-store card until you've had to cover a tree (tastefully) with three cards worth one strand at a time. Suffice to say, it's a LOT.

The Interminable Wait

Lucky for my brother and I, my parents are notoriously early risers. On the other hand, my father is a notoriously sadistic human being who, I am reasonably confident, produced offspring solely to have two new people on which to experiment with his mind-games of evil.

There is a routine that was followed, without deviation, every Christmas morning that was sure to drive my brother and I mad, and it went a little something like this (all times relative to wake time):

Wake	My parents exit their room. They mill about for a bit.	My brother and I start to get really, really excited.
+ :10	The smoking of the morning cigarette.	Impatient, we ask mom how long it will be. The answer is a derisive laugh.
+ :25	The making of (and consumption of) the first cup of coffee. During the actual brewing process one parent would head outside to retrieve the morning paper.	We... are... slowly... losing... our... minds...
+ :35	The first trip to the bathroom. At this point, the coffee and cigarette has clearly shaken something loose, so my father grabs a healthy section of the paper and heads for the bathroom for what can only be described as an endless period of colonic cleansing.	My brother shriek in frustration... we fairly well BEG our mother to find a way to hustle dad along. Mom shrugs helplessly.
+ :55	Morning deuce-drop a success, dad comes out and starts up the fire in the woodstove because overnight, it has gotten cold in the house.	We could NOT GIVE LESS OF A FUCK how cold it is. If we were sitting in a SHACK IN SIBERIA, we wouldn't give a rat's ass about the fire, we just want to open presents.
+ 1:05	While the fire is being tended to, Dad ponders aloud if we should, perhaps, have a big breakfast before we open presents. Perhaps bacon and eggs? Oh, and should we get dressed? And perhaps a shower?	Oh sweet mother of god, what the hell are you doing? Now that we've rounded the one hour mark, it's fair to say that we are both fairly well ready to vibrate across the floor, and still, no presents.
+ 1:20	The fire done, it's time for another cigarette and another cup of coffee.	WHAT THE FUCK!
+ 1:25	Dad drags a footrest over in front of the pile of presents and prepares to start handing out gifts.	We are in significant danger of pissing ourselves. At long, long last, we are ready!
+ 1:26	Nope, false alarm. We can't possibly stop, there's no Christmas music playing. Dad slowly rises to his feet and picks through his rather tremendous CD library in search of the PERFECT Christmas CDs for the occasion to load into the changer.	Are you kidding me? For 10 frigging years you've put the same 5 CDs in the changer. TEN YEARS! Just put Nat King Cole, Johnny Mathis, A Very Special Christmas 1, Chet Atkins, and Alabama in the damned CD player and move on! (as a side note, those CDs have absolutely become the soundtrack of Christmas to me, for those playing at home).
+ 1:35	Well, all that moving around and coffee must have knocked some more loose, because it's time for another trip to the bathroom, huge handful of the newspaper in tow.	SWEET MERCIFUL JESUS CHRIST, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? There cannot be more in there. It's not physically possible. You might need a trip to the emergency room if you have to do that kind of bathroom wreckage again... but we can't tend to that AFTER THE DAMNED PRESENTS!

And at nearly two hours after their wakeup (typically some four hours after our wakeup) it is finally time to open gifts.

Handing out the Gifts
Well, we can't just dive into the presents. That wouldn't be organized and torturous enough. We have a long standing tradition in which dad hands out the presents one at a time. Slowly... occasionally stopping in puzzlement because we appeared to be out of presents when, clearly, we were not... only to resume again... slowly... soooooo slowly.

We were not allowed to get into the presents on our own, though. It was just flat-out not allowed. My brother and I both recall getting into them once... just one time... but neither of us recall what the results were.

How horrifying must it have been if we can't even recall what happened, but we knew enough never to touch the presents again.

So what, of this, do my kids have to go through? They show up to a tree that is already up with lights on it and an angel on the top of the tree.¹ They put the decorations on any way they want, and if I correct their decoration placement, I'm too controlling. They literally HURL tinsel at the tree in gigantic fist-fulls with no thought to making the strands appear to be delicate little icicles forming.

In the morning, they wake up and open their stockings.. they move presents around, eat chocolate... they suffer only a scant few minutes of torture before dad gives out the gifts... and they even touch the presents.

Who are these people... and where are the people who raised (tormented?) me?

¹This year, dad retired the old angel from the tree. What did he put up in its place? A NEW ANGEL. Not the star, A NEW ANGEL. That star will never see the top of our tree. Never!

Karaoke Work Outing

jer_ — Wed, 19 Dec 2007 15:19:00 EST

Saturday, a bunch of us from work got together at a local pub for some out-of-the-office fun. It was nice to see some folks "let their hair down" (even if half of them abandoned ship way early).

Andrew letting his hair down by way of getting slapped by his girlfriend!

(download it in mp4 format)

After the bulk of the party left, it was down to just a few of us hardcore souls, Steve, Edgar, Das, and me. Das was the first to notice that there was karaoke planned for the evening.

"Karaoke," says we, "let us, as they say, do that shit!"

So we did. Das and I opened with a stirring rendition of "Picture" by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow. At that point, Das decided to sign me up for Rick James' "Super Freak" (were you aware there were words to that song aside from the first verse and the chorus? I wasn't. It got ugly, quickly), so in retaliation, I signed her up for the Divinyls classic "I Touch Myself" (which she pulled off with STYLE). The evening was closed with Das's version of "Naughty Girl" done solely for the benefit of hot bartender Jake.

Some photos

Now, I think it is important to say that there is video of all of this singing and merriment.

Yes, you heard (read?) that correctly, there exists video of all of this. If Edgar gets off his ass and gets it over to me, I can assure you that it will all be uploaded post-haste. Won't that be special.

In all, we had a blast and we absolutely need to do it again.

Perversion List

jer_ — Fri, 14 Dec 2007 12:57:40 EST

This page is very much in a state of building, but this will be a comprehensive listing of every fun sex or sex-related term I can find. It is beyond disgusting in most cases, so, it's probably a bad idea to read on. That having been said...

Alabama Hot Pocket

Defecating in the vagina of your partner.
Angry Dragon

The act of a blowjob recipient striking the back of the head of the blowjob provider immediately after ejaculation in such a manner as to cause ejaculate to be expelled from the "giver's" nose, causing them to have the appearance of an angry dragon.
Angry Pirate

Ejaculating in your partner's eye, followed by kicking him or her in the shin... the resulting "argh" of pain coupled with the limp and closed eye causes an appearance not unlike a pirate. An angry one.
Blumpkin

Getting a blowjob while defecating.
Cherry-Vanilla Swirl

Ejaculating on your partners face then inducing a nosebleed (typically with a punch to the face).
Carolina Chili Dog

Defecating on a woman's chest and using it as lubrication during a "titty fuck".
Cincinnati Bowtie

Defecating on the upper chest and neck of your partner in a way that looks not entirely unlike a bowtie.
Cleveland Steamer

A sexual act in which one partner defecates on the chest of the other partner then sits down in it, rocking back and forth.
Cunnilumpkin

A variation of the blumpkin in which a woman receives cunnilingus while defecating.
Dirty Sanchez

Following anal sex, the removal of your penis from your partner's ass and subsequent wiping of it across his or her upper lip, creating something of a moustache.
Donkey Punch

During either anal or vaginal sex from behind (doggy style), punching your partner in the back of the head immediately before ejaculation in an effort to elicit a contraction of the vagina or ass.
Felching

The act of ejaculating in your partner's ass, then sucking the resulting combined materials back out through a straw.
Filthy Marx

Wiping a finger across your partner's upper lip after fingering his or her ass.
Ghost Load

While having anal or vaginal intercourse from behind, pull out and spit on the back of your partner, simulating ejaculation. When they look back, loose your load in his or her eye.
Hot Carl (or Hot Karl)

Defecating on the plastic-wrap covered face of your partner.
Hot Lips Hulahan

Put Tobasco sauce on the outside of the condom.
Munging

A lengthy and (hopefully) hypothetical process involving unearthing a partially decomposed corpse, violating it anally, then positioning your mouth in front of the ass while a cohort jumps on the stomach, forcing the mixture of fluids within into your mouth.
Philadelphia Flapjack

Defecating on your partner's chest, flattening it with your hand (the pancake), then ejaculating on it (the syrup).
Pink Sock

During anal sex, pull out suddenly producing a prolapsed rectum (which looks eerily similar to a pink sock).
Rusty Trombone

Also known as Ass-to-Mouth. Providing a blowjob immediately following anal sex.
Teabagging

Resting one's scrotum on another's face, typically into his or her mouth.

Site Remodeling 2007

jer_ — Fri, 07 Dec 2007 01:57:00 EST

Those of you reading this from my website have no doubt noticed, I've done a little remodeling. As promised, my little slice of vanity on the web is mostly a sandbox for me to play with web technologies (html, php, css, apache, etc) as well as a place to dink around with linux server.

Now, it's no secret that I hate frames and tables, and I've heard for a while that CSS does a pretty great job of accomplishing layout work without kludgey tables, so I tried it out. The results? Pretty nice if I do say so myself, so check it out.

My Thoughts

Well, formatting things out with CSS is really not all that challenging at all, and it gives a TON more functionality. There are certainly downsides though. Tables (and even frames) are pretty commonplace now, so pretty much every browser renders them (largely) the same. Certainly there are some niggling defects (mostly those perpetrated on standards by Internet Explorer and Konqueror), but by and large, they just WORK. Not true of CSS.

For example, even after a copious amount of tweaking and jerking around, the site doesn't look optimal on all browsers. For example, pretty much all flavors of Opera (at least on 9.5 on Ubuntu and 9.24 on Windows) don't render my third column on the main page properly (both seem to drop it UNDER the middle column), as does Konqueror on Ubuntu and Safari 3.0.3 on Windows. Firefox and IE on all platforms seem to work fine.

I decided that, at least for now, that is good enough. The third column is only used on the main page (the blournal, as it were), and even then, only for quick access to the tags. It's no real loss of functionality there. Perhaps, with more practice, I will tweak it into uniform compliance across all platforms and browsers... but if my experiences with web design in the past are any indicator, it just won't happen.

The Design

I decided to go with the left-hand side menu system rather than the narrow top and bottom ribbon, so that I could add my Last.fm mix as well as a nod to the level to which I'm willing to whore myself... a PayPal and Amazon Wishlist link.

I considered the whole link-whoring thing long and hard before I went that route, and came to the following decision: I'm unlikely to ever try to "sell" my writing, per se. So I figured I'd give readers the opportunity to donate to me in the form of money or pretty-shinys if they so choose in exchange for any entertainment value I might provide them. I'll not be adding a nag to my work, nor do I forsee a day in which I would be placing ads on it if I can avoid it... so this is my "middle ground" such as it is.

Please, feel free to berate me as a sellout if you wish. :P

This will also give me the ability to more easily expand my menuing system and to include links to things that I want to place special emphasis on at any given time.

Additionally, I made the entry page my blournal. The old index really didn't serve a purpose, save for being an almost entirely un-updated mini-blog about the site. What a wasted entry page. I am far happier with this system.

Future Plans

I would love to make pretty buttons for the menu, rather than the austere text-based thing that I adore. It's so pleasant, but looks so dated as well. I'd also like to add little widgets to my writing pages for Digg, De.licio.us, Reddit, et al, to spread the word a bit. When I get bored that is.

Among the "must do"s (and should any donation money come in, the first place it will be spent) is to obtain a paid LJ account. Right now I'm using PHP to snatch my main feed, then I'm using all kind of magical code to strip the stuff I don't want and reformat it, as well as to generate my tag list and run it alongside the posts (unless, of course, you're on Opera). It is a lot of ugly, inelegant code that I could get rid of entirely if I could snatch the data directly from the database as can be done with paid accounts.

So I guess, that's a lot of words for very little effect... any thoughts?

Verses at the Coffee Exchange

jer_ — Sat, 27 Oct 2007 21:18:00 EDT

I was very excited to see my friend Brandon's band Verses play at the Coffee Exchange in Adrian. So Ger and I headed out there after an ill-fated dinner meeting at the Mongolian BBQ in Ann Arbor (as it turns out, we were meeting in AA, everyone else was meeting in Novi. Oops). Between traffic, dinner, and weather, we ended up arriving at the show one song before the end of the first set... just in time to hear a pretty awesome version of All Along the Watchtower. The band took a break, and I got a chance to meet Paul (guitar/vocals), Dan (drums), and David (sax/horns).

Let me just say here, as I've said at least once or twice before, these guys are insanely good musicians. I'm used to local bands having some modicum of talent and a couple of catchy tunes... I'm not used to a local band having filled their roster with rock solid musicians who would each readily stand on their own. These guys have definitely done that, and it works insanely well most of the time (more on that reservation in a minute).

The second set opened up with Paul doing an instrumental, solo version of Amazing Grace using harmonics. He said on the way up to the stage that it would probably be really boring for the crowd and, for the most part, I'd have to agree with him... you have to be really into guitars (or really into Amazing Grace) to get into it. Fortunately for me, I am an absolute guitar geek (despite my complete lack of talent on the instrument). Suffice to say it was an astonishingly good version and the harmonics were executed brilliantly.

Brandon joined Paul for the second song into the set (the name of which I never caught) and the audience was really given a feel for how well the pair harmonize vocals. Accompanied only sparsely by Paul's guitar work, the singers carried the song on the strength of their respective diaphragms in a way almost reminiscent of Simon and Garfunkel's Bookends.

As I alluded to earlier, the only place where everyone's respective musical talent really didn't have the most effective impact was in Line x Line; a song I typically really enjoy. Friday night's version just sounded too crowded, as though adding one more really talented musician added an unnecessary layer of complication to the already elaborate sound. At no point did things get discordant, just... too much, but this was the only moment of the night, however, that was anything less than stellar.

A version of Tool's 46 and 2 showed that even in an acoustic set, these guys can rock. This particular song really makes me look forward to their "plugged in" show next weekend at Small's in Hamtramck. If they can hit this hard acoustically, adding electricity and a full drum set bodes well; especially in a venue in which Paul can really let his inner Maynard scream!

During the break, I was given the depressing news that the boys had already played two of my favorite songs, Hold On and Stand Down... but being the great guys that they are, they played an encore version of my favorite of the two, the latter, to close the night. Yet again, the additional horn sound in this song was surprisingly welcome, inflating it to near epic proportions. What was a really catchy, really dead-on rocker has turned into a really catchy, really heady piece that swells and flows along the lines of its own pacing. A really solid song just became outstanding.

In general, this was a fantastic show. I really wish I had made it earlier to catch some of the tracks from the first 45 minutes (wherein apparently Brandon got so into Stand Down that he shattered his pick), but the show was absolutely worth what I did see. How often do you take a 3 hour round trip to see an hour of live music and consider it time completely well spent?

Want to find out more about Verses? Check out their website or buy their music. Feel free to contact me below if you want to catch their show at Small's on Friday.

Feminist Modesty

jer_ — Mon, 09 Jul 2007 03:00:00 EDT

Jessica Valenti recently wrote a rather scathing critique of Wendy Shalit and the "Modesty Movement" entitled "Chastity is Chic" , and unfortunately, Ms. Valenti got it all wrong this time.

The problem is a simple one; extreme viewpoints are almost assuredly wrong. I have a great deal of respect for Valenti and her feminist blog Feministing ¹, of which I have been a regular reader ever since I ran across Jessica's article "Abstinence Double Standard Threatens Girls' Health" around a year ago. Generally, I respect her views and find her points to be salient and thought provoking², but in this particular article she castigates the whole "Modesty Movement" based on a few rather loathsome aspects. After I finished reading "Chastity...", I was left with the understanding that in the feminist world, there are only two types of girls: the prudes and the sluts.

This is clearly not the case.

Feminism is about choices. It is the fight to give women the right to choose who they want to be—not to have the same rights to choose as men, they should definitely aim higher than that—but the right to make lifestyle decisions without benefit of enforced gender roles. It is not, however, the right to make lifestyle choices without benefit of judgment or consequence.

If a woman wants to have a series of casual sexual relationships, that should completely be her choice. By the same token, if she wishes to remain abstinent until marriage, that should also be her choice. But both women should recognize that there will be a segment of the population that will look down on them for their choices. This is not a sexist notion, it is a humanist notion. So those who abstain will be prudes and those who do not will be sluts—full stop. We, as people, are judgmental of those who do not adhere to our sense of morality; so the solution isn't to try to convince each other of the inherent correctness of our moral code, but to live-and-let-live. To allow others to do what they feel is right, while we do what we feel is right. That's what choice is all about, isn't it?

But what about the hypocritical double-standard that exists? Women that sleep around are sluts, men that do are studs. The solution is not to start calling promiscuous women "studs", but to recognize that promiscuity—as used in the pejorative sense—is not a desirable trait in either gender. Listen, if I see a guy in a camouflage suit with a brush-cut and a rifle, I think soldier. If I see a chick in a long white coat with a stethoscope around her neck getting out of a BMW, I think doctor. If I see a chick in a crotch-length skirt and a midriff revealing shirt with a pound and a half of eye makeup smeared on her face, I think slut. When people see me in my sleeves-off shirt and tattooed biceps, they think convict. It isn't necessarily sexist, part of how we judge people is based on appearance. While it is titillating to see a chick pop her top on a Girls Gone Wild DVD ($13.99 on DVD), marriage is not the first idea that finds its way into my head once blood flow resumes its normal course.

It is about choice, and I find it hard to fault any movement that tries to make a wider range of healthy choices cool to our youth. I applaud the feminist movement for helping women to become more comfortable with their sexuality, helping close the pay gap, fighting for reproductive rights, and all of the other good it has brought. I similarly the Modesty Zone for trying to portray the other side of the sexually liberated fence as a viable option too. Take it from a guy, growing up, you are inundated with the notion that only "nerds" and "losers" are still virgins by high school graduation; and this is becoming a growing problem among girls now.

The problem is the heterogeneous nature of "feminism" and the strange bedfellows it brings together. Uber-conservative women who have a strong interest in pay equity are suddenly lumped in with man-hating grrls and womyn who wish to see men shipped off to an island—and they are, in turn, joined with socialist women in search of an end to the evil, sexist capitalism. Shalit's message of chastity and Valenti's message of sexual freedom aren't really at odds with one another, but because they come from remarkably different socio-political views, it would certainly appear that way.

The solution is, as usual, the middle of the road. Wendy... Jessica... kiss and make up, because you are both right. Women are in fact over sexualized from a very young age, and I cannot believe that it has no impact on relationships, pregnancy rates, and a host of other issues. Conversely, the ideals expressed (heavy handedly, I might add) by the so-called "modesty movement" are not for everyone—that's why we're not asking you to the prom, it's not that you won't put out, it's that you're too judgmental! I think the only real solution is for both of you ladies to come by my place in lovely Detroit; and you can both kick me in my sexist, misogynist balls! (Then make me some dinner)³

---

¹ If you are even vaguely interested in the feminist movement, I highly suggest pointing your RSS reader at Feministing. It is a great way to keep up with contemporary feminism.
² Oh, and she's hot. Oh, wait, I didn't mean that; I'm not sexist. I meant her brains make me hot. Err. I'll stop now.
³ Just kidding. Unless, you know, you want to make me some dinner. I'm partial to Italian.

Fourth of July 2007

jer_ — Mon, 09 Jul 2007 03:00:00 EDT

»Fourth of July Fireworks

A brief clip of my father's 2007 fireworks show, taken on a T-Mobile Dash, so forgive the quality.

»Fourth of July Misfire

One of the fireworks decided to lob instead of throw.

Manscaping

jer_ — Thu, 21 Jun 2007 15:06:30 EDT

First, if a member of my family is reading this; or for that matter, anyone who is squeamish, not amused by the pain of others, or easily offended... just do all of us a favor and skip this entry.

Seriously, move along.

You'll be sorry...

As 2006 started, my then-girlfriend, Terra, had all but moved into my house, and as such, all manner of feminine products had found residence in my bathroom. This is a phenomena that I will be investigating further at some point in the future, but for now, suffice to say there was no end to the strange devices and products with which I have little experience that have invaded my life. Among these things... a waxing kit.

Now, I have been staring at this thing since I came back from my Christmas trip to NY and found that my girlfriend had moved in while I was away (also known as the day of the great invasion), and every time I enter my bathroom it calls to me.... try me.... try me....

As a guy, there are limitations as to what I can wax.... if I was to wax my legs, arms, or chest... that would just be inappropriate (unless I was a body builder, swimmer, or trying to pick up men... none of which are my cup of tea, although you any of them might be yours). My head was a option, but I'm tired of the bald look, and it is winter. That pretty much left my "equipment".

Yeah... that equipment.

So, I hook up the warming apparatus, and proceeded to read the instructions. It is important to note that, as a guy, I suffer from vanity. As such, when the directions indicated to try this on a small patch of hair first as a test, I literally could not do so. I was physically incapable. Even though I would be the only one to know that I was such a weakling that I actually tested a small area, I just couldn't. So, I covered my taint and sack with hot wax.

After the waxy coating, I added those nifty cloth strips (three to the sack, one to the taint), waited a moment for the wax to do its hardening thing, then gave a test tug to one of the sack-attached strips.

Instant tears.

Okay, this is going to be pretty painful, but, hey, I'm a man, I can take it, right? So, psych myself up and decide that strip one is coming off like a band-aid, right now.

One scream and a lot of tears later, I'm laying in a ball on the floor. Wow!

The only upside to this is that there's only three more to go, right? Wrong! Upon closer inspection, all four strips are still in place. Apparently, I failed to take into account the elastic nature of my bag of jewels. Yanking the strip merely stretched my balls to about my knees, but did not remove the strip or any hair. Panic sets in. I need to get these strips off, and pulling again just ain't happening. I finally realize that perhaps a hair dryer would soften the wax sufficiently to remove it semi-painlessly. Wrong. You lie, Ms. Berthold-Bond... the amount of heat that would be required to melt the wax is far in excess of what my nuts can take applied directly to them... and an iron? You sick bitch! Well, there is only one thing left to do... grab my sack (literally) and yank the hell out of the strips.

At any rate, I then proceeded to expediently yank the strips from my genital region with much screaming, howling, pain and, yes, bleeding.

Bleeding? The instructions said nothing of blood coming from the very holes in which my hairs used to reside. What manner of false advertising is this? False advertising of the most dastardly variety is what kind... dastardly indeed!

After bathing away the folicular blood and soaking for a while to help rinse away the pain and horror that this stunt has caused, I found a new problem... actually, two of them. First, not all the hair went away. Second, not all the wax went away either. Unfortunately, the first problem left me looking like I had the genital mange, so I was forced to shave after my botched wax job. Hey, do you know what hurts almost as much as waxing your nuts? Shaving your freshly mangled nuts, that's what, especially with wax still present.

With the benefit of a few days between me and my waxy pain, I finally could comfortably (no pun intended) do a search to find out what I did wrong... and I found this article with an important part I'll quote for you here:

Yes, Mr. Whittall, it does, it certainly does.

The moral of the story? Well, there are many morals you could take away from this story: Don't wax your balls would be chief among them, but read the instructions is probably in there too.

The Office Dating Game

jer_ — Thu, 21 Jun 2007 03:00:00 EDT

Somewhere in the early 2000s, I ran the IT Department for a modestly sized marketing firm in Southfield, MI. When I say that I ran the IT Department, a more honest assessment would be that I was the most senior IT person in a four person department. As such, I was responsible for all of the technical issues that would come up on a daily basis, in addition to all of the behind the scenes work that goes into making the servers run and the email arrive.

Being a small company, everyone knew everyone else; and everyone had an opinion of everyone else. It was easy to pick out which employees got along, and which did not. For nearly every employee, you could find a nemesis; a polar opposite. Almost everyone had their arch-rival; mine was Don¹.

Don was everything that was wrong with white collar society. He was a smarmy, over-educated but under-intelligent, sycophantic bastard, and I detested him. When he quit to follow his wife to another state for her job, I (somewhat) silently cheered. When I heard months later that he divorced his wife because she was cheating on him, I did a small Irish jig in the main conference room. When he came back to work for us again, it was all I could do not to leap from my ninth-story window. He would take every available opportunity to make my life miserable, and I would do the same to him. Then, one day the ultimate revenge fell into my lap...

On a fine, sunny day in late September, a few months after his return to the company, the anti-Jer wandered into my office carrying his computer in his hands. Already, I was enraged. What is he doing with this computer in his hands? He's not allowed to disconnect his computer. He's not allowed to carry it around the building. As he dumps it unceremoniously onto the corner of my desk, he says brusquely, "It's running slowly, I need it back by tomorrow!", and walks quickly from my office.

This is exactly why I keep my office door locked.

Knowing that he won this round, I opted not to fight the inevitable, and I booted up his system. Just as I thought, tons of installed software and extra crap is being loaded on startup, slowing everything down. In a gesture of defiance, I decide to baseload his system and load user rights management on it. In preparation, I started copying his user directory to the server. While waiting for the copy to complete, I called a friend and spoke to him briefly about plans that evening. It was during this conversation that sweet, sweet revenge came a-knocking.

"You have to come down here right now and look at this!" I exclaimed.

"What is it?" Gary asked.

"Just come look...", I said, before disconnecting the conversation.

Moments later, I was showing Gary what has passed before my eyes just a few minutes before. A directory named "Personals" with subdirectories for "Adult Friend Finder", "Yahoo Personals", "eHarmony", and several other dating sites. Inside of each directory was a series of pictures of Don, a Word document containing his advertisement blurb, and, most importantly, his log of conversations with people from each site. It was a veritable goldmine of usable information... but what to do with it?

We called our friend Ron, the only other smoker, and invited him out for a cigarette, where we related to him what we had found. It was Ron who put to bed our ideas of turning Don in or blackmailing him in favor of something much more fun. Starting a relationship with him. We agreed to go out for drinks that night to formulate a plan of attack.

The next day, I returned Don's computer to him, and I couldn't even find it in myself to respond to his barbs because I was too excited about what the day had in store. I hustled back to my office and got right to work.

First, I searched the web for images of a woman. Specifically, I needed to find a very pretty brunette (Don's preference) with photos that did not look professional, and more importantly, I had to be able to get several clothed pictures of her and at least one revealing photo. I found what I was looking for on some young woman's vanity site.

I then created an account on one of his less popular free dating sites. I created a profile that matched his "ideals" nearly precisely, gave an address that was in an adjacent neighborhood to his, uploaded one of my pictures, and entered "Elizabeth's" ad.

Gary, Ron, and I had spent most of the evening trying to figure out what to say, and had ultimately come up with a masterpiece that extolled the virtues of shorter men, the love of movies, the lack of desire to travel, and an adoration of hockey. The adoration of hockey nearly ruined us several times, as there was not a hockey fan among our number. Ultimately, once things got going, we recruited Allen as our hockey expert.

Our plan was to wait a few days, then message Don as if we had just run across his ad, but things were hastened when he replied to our ad that same day. I quickly printed off his message, grabbed Gary and Ron, and we left to go smoke. Over our smoke break, we read his message several times and formulated a response. When I got back to my office, I sent it off, and thus began our beautiful relationship.

It was apparent, right off, that Don was as full of himself as we had always believed. It was hard to ignore or, worse, applaud some of his ridiculously self-aggrandizing statements. When he talked about how much he wasn't "hard on the eyes" or how important it was that he keep his body "rock hard", it would stump us. How would an actual woman respond to such stupidity? More to the point, how stupid must we make "Elizabeth" sound that she wouldn't laugh at such idiocy? Nevertheless, we plugged on; it would be worth it.

We began to run into an issue when he wanted to meet with Liz. We had made her an ER nurse at a hospital that was local enough to seem reasonable while being far enough to dissuade him from trying to surprise her at work. The ER concept was a godsend, allowing us to schedule dates with Don then cancel the day before or the day of due to work several times. Between the crazy ER nurse hours and her long drive to work, it was easy to paint a picture of her as someone that was just very busy at the moment and unable to make schedules work out. Fortunately, she had a promotion coming soon that would reduce her hours dramatically. Until then, Don had to make due with an increasingly sexual text-based relationship.

Why text based? On three or four separate occasions, we communicated with him by phone using my friend's girlfriend, Lisa, as our proxy. This proved to be unnerving to all of us, because Lisa laughed when she was nervous, and she was not good at extemporaneous speaking. She would just freeze while we fed her something to say. Fortunately, Don was not the sharpest pencil in the box, and chalked up her lack of ability to communicate to general nervousness. The upside to Lisa, however, was that she had a sexy phone voice. When he started talking a little dirty to her, she took off on her own and, in no time, was getting phone-sex-operator nasty with the dwarven geek. We had to keep voice conversation minimal, because even a chud like Don would notice her inability to do anything but phone sex with any degree of normalcy, sooner or later.

By the end of October, Don was getting restless. We had put him off as long as we could, but his interest seemed to be waning due to the lack of physical or even vocal contact. Things had gone as far as they could go; or so we thought.

In retrospect, a few less beers consumed by each of us would have probably made our thought process a bit more clear. Had Allen not bought several rounds of shots (he was a regular in our group now), we would have probably rethought our brilliant finale. As it turned out, we got just drunk enough that our brilliance knew no bounds. We decided to meet him for lunch on Halloween. It began as a simple enough plan; plan to meet him at the Mongolian Barbeque, show up before he does, take a picture of him getting stood up, and drop off a printout of all of the emails and the picture on his desk later on. It was fantastic.

Then it got better.

I made a joke about showing up and saying "Hi" to him. That turned into me showing up in a wig, which ultimately transformed into me showing up in full drag and introducing myself to him as Liz. That, ultimately, was the downfall of the experiment.

On that fateful day, I called in sick to work so that Don wouldn't see me in my pretty blue dress. We had set lunch for noon, so Gary, Ron, and Allen had all arrived at 11:30 so they could get seats overlooking the fun. At 12:15 I entered the restaurant.

To say that Don had a puzzled look on his face when he saw me walk through the door would have been an understatement. I must have looked quite a sight, and I relished in his demeanor change as his glance moved down from my long black hair haphazardly stuffed under a platinum Marilyn Monroe wig (the only we had available), past my goatee covered face, along my tattooed and hairy arms, below my wide hips, and across my hairy legs, coming to a rest upon my work boots. His confusion slowly dissolved into amusement, then was quickly replaced by shock as I approached his table. Horror overtook his features as I stopped across from him and said "Don? I'm Liz!" in my rather masculine voice.

There were many ways to react to this. Really level people would realize what had happened, see the humor, and laugh it off. Most people would get very angry and storm off, plotting revenge. There is a third option; extreme aggression. This is not an option that we had taken into account. When Don leapt to his feet, my assumption was that it was to rush from the building. When he cocked his fist and swung at me, I was taken completely off guard. I ducked and punched him. He lost his balance and fell to the ground.

It was madness. Rather than get arrested in full drag, I chose to sprint for the door before Don could regain his feet. I would live to fight another day.

The epilogue to this epic battle is that, for the next two months, work was a very uncomfortable place. At no point was our little joke ever brought up... and his dating foibles became similarly off limits. In December, I quit to pursue a better option, but I would like to think that Don still thinks twice before he dates on the Internet from work. And the moral that you can take with you from this story? Maybe, just maybe, you should be nice to your IT people.

¹ All names changed, because some of these people might want to work in this town again.

Messy the Pooh

jer_ — Thu, 01 Feb 2007 16:02:00 EST

Sadly, I did not get a chance to post this when it happened on Tuesday.

There is some chemical property of McDonalds' coffee that has a very negative effect on my gastro-intestinal system. Specifically, it runs straight through me. Now, understand that I'm not referring to the normal coffee-induced pooping that is a result of your average cup of Joe. No, gentle reader, the effect to which I refer can best be described by the phrase "pissing out my ass". Keep all of this in mind when I say that Tuesday morning, on the way into school, I picked up a tall cup of this special brew on my way to an Econ test.

I'm a glutton for punishment, I guess.

So at 7:30 in the morning, I'm finishing my large coffee as I take what should be a pretty simple part I of an exam... when I feel a gurgling in my stomach. I have to shit.... no, I have to shit NOW! I'm talking about a degree of urgency that doesn't say "You should go to the bathroom" or even "You should run to the bathroom", but "You should run to the bathroom, and bring your cup, in case you have to stop along the way and shit in THAT!" Things were urgent.

I've never used the bathrooms on the third floor of this building, so I race down the hall with a 50/50 chance of the direction I've chosen being the Men's room... and a 50/50 chance of it being the ladies room.

Guess which I picked?

For a brief moment, I considered just using the women's restroom, but the damage I was going to visit upon the toilet was something I couldn't bring myself to do in anything but a men's room. Chagrined, I pressed on, retracing my steps and heading to the men's room.

Walking like a duck. POWERwalking like a duck.

By the time I got to the stall, the urgency had reached a fever pitch. Luckily my pants are oversized, because I didn't unbuckle my belt or unbutton my pants, I just smoothly slid everything down below my ass and let fly as my ass approached the seat.

The extra few seconds I saved by not waiting until my ass was in actual contact with the seat was my downfall. You see, what came out of my orifice had the appropriate color and odor, but aside from that bore absolutely no resemblance to crap. To begin with, it was purely liquid. More importantly, it came out of my ass at an ALARMING velocity. Fortunately, I was able to stop myself from sitting all the way down, because the vile matter that was being expelled from my colon sprayed all over the seat, the floor, the back wall... even a little on the side-walls of the stall. It was horrifying.

When the initial volley ended, I popped the door open, peeked around the bathroom to ensure that I was alone, and scooted into the next stall so I could sit down and finish my business. A few moments later, I was finished and cleaned, and I started pulling some paper towels to mop up my mess...

...but I really should get back to my test, right?

So I ditched my mess and went back to my test. Mission accomplished, no harm, no foul... except the guy that sits at my desk with me then gets up to go to the bathroom. It did not occur to me that anything could go wrong when he returned and said, in a very loud voice, "Someone shit ALL OVER the bathroom. It's all over the place, it's in like, three stalls!"

To which I responded, "It's in ONE STALL, not three!"

Then I realized what I'd done... and just went back to doing my test.

Nobody has mentioned it to me yet.

Sorry for the TMI, but it amused me.

The Shitting Bandit

jer_ — Thu, 30 Nov 2006 03:00:00 EST

A friend of mine was always fond of saying that the Army was like high school, only more so. Every time I think of that quote, I cannot help but be reminded of the story of the "Shitting Bandit", and the high school-esque hijinx surrounding that summer in 1995 in Seoul, South Korea.

To set the scene, we all lived in a barracks that amounted to a three-story high, straight hall with four-person cube rooms lined up on each side. The outside wall of each room had two side-opening windows with no screens. These were huge windows that slid open to reveal a three foot by two foot entryway.

Oh, and the locks only worked on the second floor windows (the girls' floor, go figure).

One final item of note: the Koreans were doing some kind of work to the south side of the building, so throughout the summer, there was scaffolding in place the length and height of the building. Many an evening was spent drunk on the roof of the barracks due to our easy access.

Great security.

The legend of the Shitting Bandit began simply enough... with a pile of shit in the first floor shower.

Dead center of the community shower, neatly coiled.

Less than a week later, this one-time incident was repeated, except this time, the offending offal was left dead in the middle of the hall, immediately outside the bathroom door on the first floor.

Two weeks went by before the ante was again upped, and the offender officially became a serial shitter. This time, after several days of inexplicable, horrific bathroom smell in the first and third floor bathrooms, a huge helping of crap was found inside the grille of the heaters in both rooms.

At this point, it was funny to nearly all (save for those on whom it fell to clean up the offending feces), but the next events really brought matters home... literally. Less than two weeks after the last event, pooh was found in the heater grille of three different rooms.

Once the bandit started hitting rooms, a (forgive the obvious pun) shitstorm erupted. Nothing was safe. For weeks, crap was found everywhere imaginable. In room heaters, on a paper plate on someone's bed, in the drinking fountain, in a baggie hung from the bulletin board... everywhere. At one point, a tupperware dish packed full of shit was found in the refrigerator in the CQ office, which is staffed 24/7. The shitting bandit was a magician; an evil magician that works exclusively with poop.

One day, with no warning, it all stopped. Just like that, the Shitting Bandit had gone into retirement. Theories were bandied about that the Bandit was actually several people acting individually were discarded, or how would one explain the abrupt stop? Fear and confusion replaced amusement and mirth. For weeks, soldiers were petrified whenever they opened wall lockers or turned down their beds... what would happen next!?

As it turns out... nothing did. No one was ever found and nothing ever came of any investigation that might have happened. We all have theories, but I am confident that I know who did it. My close friend and drinking buddy, Mike, had the past experience breaking into rooms as the "Ether Bunny" (a great story for another time), the disturbing habits, the lack of disgust with bodily waste, the ability, and the time... but most of all, the normally vociferous Mike would sit back quietly and listen intently whenever the Bandit was discussed. Rather than join in the theory-filled conversations, he would kick back with an amused expression on his face and observe. It simply had to be him... and he is an evil genius.

I truly wish I had a better ending. As anticlimactic as this is, I feel the hilarity of the story would be ruined by the introduction of exaggerated facts (a concern I rarely have...), so, the end... unless the Shitting Bandit again rears his ugly head (ass?)...

Surprise!

jer_ — Sat, 28 Oct 2006 13:16:00 EDT

If you don't want to be explicitly privy to my sex life, I'd suggest giving this entry a miss. If you have some perverse desire, however, to read more than you will ever want to know about my sex life...

It will be difficult, but I am going to try to tell this story with a minimal amount of detail. At any rate, the girl and I got home from the ballet very late. We drove home in my car, rather than driving both cars all the way to my place, so needless to say we were both rather hot and bothered, as well as in various stages of undress (a story for a different time) by the time we made it to bed. After the requisite period of foreplay, the actual intercourse portion of the even began. Several hours later (haha, sorry, I had to), as I was about to "finish", I fell out.

Oh how I hate that... It is so annoying. Not only does it interrupt an otherwise pleasurable experience, but it gets awfully messy, with sticky, viscous liquids being fired all over the place willy-nilly... (wow, that was grosser than necessary I suppose)

Not to be so easily dissuaded, I quickly slammed myself back in and resume flailing away like an epileptic chimp. (It is at this point that I'd like to defend my sexual style by saying that I do NOT fuck like an epileptic chimp as a rule. I CUM like an epileptic chimp high on a cocktail of crystal meth, PCP, and nicotine gum... but that's a whole different story...)

As I finished cumming, I couldn't help but notice that my partner's very vocal orgasm had given way to silence and a strange look. I would almost say a puzzled look. Typically, the vocal ministrations associated with my partner's sexual climax does not end in so abrupt a manner and... honestly, I'm more accustomed to seeing a look of pleasure or satisfaction on post-orgasmic women in my presence. A befuddled look of uneasiness is not an expression to which I am accustomed in women with whom I'm engaged in coital bliss. Of course, being the caring guy that I am, I continued to hump away for a few seconds more before I asked if she was okay.

"Well... it hurts," was her reply.

In the moments that followed, many thoughts fired their way through my head. My brain was recovering from its ejaculatory retardation so the processor was almost back up to speed. I glanced down to see what it could be that was causing her so to feel pain and me to feel such tightness.

As most of you have probably pieced together, I was in her ass.

Inadvertent, surprise buttsecks! Somewhere, somehow, that has to make some form of a pejorative declaration about the size of my member... but I'd prefer not to think of such things. As least I didn't give her a pink sock...

Of course, the afterglow period was mildly uncomfortable (emotionally for me, and I'm sure physically for her) because I really don't know what to say in response to a surprise rectal breach. "Oops" seems a bit trite, and "Sorry" doesn't seem to cover it. "Thanks for not crying" seems callous and "glad we didn't have chili for dinner" seems unnecessarily grotesque. I went with singing "Backdoor Lover" from the Josie and the Pussycats movie to her. I'm such a charmer.

Pyromaniac Exterminator

jer_ — Fri, 20 Oct 2006 03:00:00 EDT

In 1995, two friends (Josh and Carter), my ex-wife (Rebecca, my girlfriend at the time), and I moved into a huge house in a nice neighborhood near Fort Lee, Virginia. Because we were young and dumb, the 5 bedroom, 2 and one half bath mini-mansion quickly fell into a state of disrepair, as most party houses do, but no party damage could rival that caused by an invasion of bees and my attempt to exterminate them.

One day in the late spring, I arrived at home and noticed, as I waited for the garage door to finish raising, that there were an awful lot of bees swarming around the entrance. As the days progressed, the swarm grew.

Now, I hate bees. In fact, I don't like any stinging insects. These invaders needed to go.

The next day, I bought several cans of Raid spray and, upon my arrival at home, sprayed the walls, roof, porch, ground, and bushes in an attempt to dissuade the pests from hanging around my garage. The next day, it was apparent that it didn't work. They were back in full force, completely unimpressed with my attempts to evict them.

I decided to perform some reconnaissance. I went out that evening, when bees sleep, and looked for a nest. That was when I saw the hole that they had been flying in and out of... and it was huge. It was roughly the diameter of a golf ball, and fairly deep looking. I sprayed the hole down with the last of the Raid, and went in to call my father, because if anyone would know how to deal with this problem, my father would.

Just a short while on the phone with dad gave me the hope I needed. According to him, all I needed was to pour gas into their nest at night, and my problem would be solved.

So I went to the local gas station and purchased a second five gallon gas can full of gas to go with my mostly full five gallon can at home. I figured, whatever was left over after I filled the hole could be used in my car or lawn mower. With my gas ready,. I dressed for the occasion.

I know I mentioned that I hate bees, but I don't think I conveyed the depths to which I abhor these stinging little beasties. I hate bees! Not wanting to get stung, I went a bit overboard. An outer layer that included a flannel shirt, oversized jeans, and a pair of combat boots concealed layer two: a hooded sweatshirt, sweatpants, and thick wool socks. I hid my hands in heavy winter gloves, and covered my head and face with a hood, a scarf, and a pair of motorcycle goggles. There wasn't a bit of unprotected flesh exposed.

This, in all likelihood, saved my life.

At midnight, the hour when I felt the bees would be most asleep and least likely to stir, I proceeded with my plan. I went outside with my 8 or so gallons of gas and box of strike-anywhere matches and began the process of exterminating the bugs. I started to pour gas into the hole.

Do you know the sound that a drain makes when you pour water straight down the center of it? That is the noise the hole made as the gas disappeared into its maw. I kept pouring and pouring, waiting for the hole to fill so I could stop... and the hole just wouldn't fill. I started on the second gas can when the first was empty, and unloaded the bulk of that into the hole before I gave up. My best estimate is that was about 7 or 8 gallons of gasoline in the hole when I finished.

Now it was time for the lighting ceremony. I took a strike anywhere match, lit it, and threw it at the hole, making sure to stand plenty far enough away to be out of harm's way.

The match went out.

I lit another and, edging closer, threw it at the hole.

The match went out.

Edging closer still, I threw another lit match at the hole.

The match went out.

Being the problem solver that I am, I created a solution. I rolled up a newspaper, lit it on fire, and stuffed it into the hole.

Well, near the hole at least.

Several problems conspired to make this situation dangerous. First, the amount of time I spent dicking around with the matches allowed plenty of gas vapor to accumulate near the hole. Second, apparently gas vapor is VERY combustible. Third, my newspaper starter was sufficiently short so as to force my arm to be very near the entrance to the hole. Finally, there was a LOT of gas in that hole.

Well, in roughly the amount of time it took for me to think, "Oh shit, this was a bad idea!" my plan went horribly awry. The flaming paper, as it became proximate to the hole, ignited the vapor surrounding the hole. The process of sudden, rapid vapor ignition could best be described as a Big Fucking Explosion^TM. The explosion shook the ground, the concrete slab that was my front porch split, the foundation of the house cracked, and a plume of flame shot out of every place in my lawn where the system of tunnels I had filled with gas met the surface. Unfortunately one of those outlets was immediately beneath a bush in my yard; so my bush lit on fire. A river of fire, originating farther down my lawn, flowed its way into the road where it puddled.

Oh, and my shirt was set aflame. It was chaos.

So there I am, running around with my clothing on fire, a bush burning like something out of a Bible story, a river of fire blazing like a sign of the apocalypse, when my neighbors come out to watch the show. Did anyone help? No way, they just came to watch the show. Even my roommates were just watching out the window.

I ultimately managed to put myself out (Stop, Drop, and Roll people... Stop, Drop, and Roll), and after a fairly short time, the gas was all consumed and the various fires went out, leaving charred grass, a burnt husk of a bush, and a complete halt to the bee problem.

The next day, I called my father back to tell him how poorly his plan went. A few words into the story, he said the words that I keep with me to this day.

"I didn't say to light the gas on fire," he said.

And you know what? He didn't.

Welcome to my Homepage

jer_ — Fri, 22 Sep 2006 00:24:00 EDT

It's 1993. The number of websites on the "Internet" can be counted in the hundreds, not the thousands. Most of these sites are hosted on university equipment by technology geeks of the first order. The pages rendered by NCSA Mosaic were bland, but they were connected to one another. You could click on an underlined, blue word and within minutes, you had someone else's page up. It was distributed multimedia, and it was glorious.

By 1994, websites had to be counted in tens of thousands, not hundreds. Geeks and semi-geeks had vanity pages, and you could tell by the design.

Fonts were huge and garish in color and design.

Tiled backgrounds, random images, bandwidth hogging opulence became nerd haut couture. Geek-trash replaced white trash, as the blink tag replaced pink flamingos. Unclosed tags were strewn about like dirty diapers on the lawn of a crack house.

Over the course of the next 8 to 10 years, things settled down. People began to realize that, just because you CAN, doesn't mean you SHOULD (and I mean the blink tag specifically here). Design became as important as displaying a command of the supporting technology. In fact, good design was considered more important than adding new tags and styles. In short, it was good.

Then came MySpace. As if the Internet Archive created some doomed wormhole to a decade old Internet, a new home was found for embedded music (only MP3 now, not midi) and vomit inducing colors.

For example, check out Zack's page. This is the WWW, circa 1995. No, wait, it's from 2006. How can that be? Everything points to the mid 90s. The huge background picture, the orange, white, blue, and pale red color scheme, pages so wide they would fill a billboard, three hundred font sizes per page (and counting). Even his frigging HAIR screams Flock of Seagulls. The only thing this toolbox is missing is an embedded mp3 jamming the latest vapid, Top 40 piece of crap at ludicrous volume.

If this is what we do with our technology, I want to go back to the stone age. I don't want it. Take it back.

It has become rather prosaic to bash MySpace, so I'd like to avoid that. MySpace, in and of itself, is not that bad. When it began as a place for bands to advertise themselves, their shows, and their music, it was great. It is very well geared toward that use. How it became a social networking site I'll never understand, but as a place of keeping in contact with friends, it makes a great pedophile farm.

The problem isn't with the site. The problem is that MySpace has become the AOL of today. Once upon a time, merely seeing someone log into your IRC chatroom from an AOL domain made it a near certainty that the first thing out of the user's "mouth" was going to resemble the keyboard bashings of a ADD suffering six year old hopped up on Pixie Stix and crystal meth.

NE H0T CH1X IN HEER?
A/S/L?
WHY DO U SAY I YELLIN?
GIVE ME NAKID PIX OF U!

Slowly, this became less and less prevalent. Mostly, the idiot pool diluted itself amongst the millions of places to chat and be a nuisance around the web. The idiots were still there, we just didn't see them so much, because they were all over the place. MySpace gave them a place to which they could converge.

MySpace is the Mississippi trailer park of the Internet. You can't blame its inhabitants for their lack of fashion sense or design technique. When the only thing you have to decorate your house with is christmas lights and nipple tassels from bygone days of dancing at a titty bar for baby formula, of course that's what you'll use. Well, MySpace gives users the ability to modify their site, but only in the most superficial ways. As a result, in order to get a sense of "individuality", users are required to slap their christmas lights and pasties up wherever they can. The unplanned net result, however, is that there is no individuality. All of the sites look uniformly horrific.

What is the solution? Evacuate Tom from his secret bunker miles below the MySpace server farm, and nuke the building back into the stone age... and never, ever, let the AOLers gather in numbers again.

Or gouge our own eyes out and use JAWS to navigate the web. Whatever works for you.

(Editor's note: The irony that I am using "our technology" for what is largely a vanity journal [not a blog, I'll stab you in the head for that] is not lost on me. I see it, and I'm ignoring it. I can do that, because I'm better than you, thereby making my wasteful use of technology better than yours.)

Instant Karma

jer_ — Fri, 15 Sep 2006 00:19:00 EDT

I haven't found anybody that doesn't find yesterday's events riotously amusing, so I figured I'd share.

Sometimes, you are minding your own business and you get to personally witness karma throwing a People's Elbow down on somebody from the top rope (I certainly hope I didn't butcher that pop culture reference, but, I just don't watch wrestling).

Yesterday, I was on my way home from school when I saw some Michigan Road Kill happen right in front of me. For those of you not familiar with the term, Michigan Road Kill (MRK for short) refers to the vehicles that are just abandoned on the roads here in the Motor City.

No, that was not a typo or a fouled colloquialism, people here have car trouble on the road, and they get out and leave their car wherever it stopped. Literally. Fast lane, slow lane, two lanes, middle of an intersection, they just leave.

At any rate, as I followed the herd through a two lane turn onto a three lane road, the car in the right-most lane suddenly coasted to a halt. Right... in... the... lane. The car didn't suddenly halt, mind you. The driver, after losing power, didn't take that opportunity to remove his vehicle from the road, but instead, just drifted peacefully to a graceful stop in the middle of traffic, leaving chaos in his wake.

I pulled off the road behind him, walked up to his car, and asked if he needed help pushing his car. He replied that he would appreciate the help, so I walked back behind his car and waited for either him or his small, female passenger to come back and help. Apparently, neither were going to be coming, so I proceeded to start pushing his car.

And pushed, and pushed, and pushed.

Many yards up the road, it became apparent to me that he was not going to turn the wheel, enabling his car to exit the road. I returned to his window and, sarcasm oozing from my voice, asked what was going on.

"Were you going to turn the wheel, or am I pushing you home?", I asked.

"I only live up at Brady," he replied, then, seeing my look of incredulity, quickly added, "I'm only saying, it's not like a stupid thing to think, you know, that you might be pushing me to my house."

"Turn the wheel so that I can push you off the road SIR," says I, and in the immortal words of Dick Marcinco, I spelled "sir" CUR.

After watching him wrestle with his wheel to get it turned curb-ward, I returned to the rear of his vehicle and proceeded to push. As the car rolled up against the side of the road, the curb turned the wheels back straight, and I was again pushing his car down the road. I could clearly see him motioning wildly to his passenger with both hands as I pressed my body against his trunk and the thought occurred to me... what is he using to hold the wheel turned.

Apparently, nothing.

I returned to his window, fairly upset at this point, and barked at him to keep his hands on the wheel to prevent the vehicle from steering itself back straight. His look of anger was the only clue I needed that he was not pleased by my tone of voice.

It is times like this that are the reason I do not carry a gun.

I returned to the rear of his vehicle for the third time, and began to push again. After much strain, I managed to force the vehicle to mount the curb and exit the roadway. Then, I just kept pushing. About six feet from the road, there is a sizable downward slope that meets a grassy area, then woodland. Within seconds, I had started his car down the hill.

Whoops.

Now, in retrospect, I should probably be mildly ashamed at myself for my churlish behavior, but I'm not. He has a functional brake. He could have stopped. He was busy conversing.

Oops.

At this point the gentleman exits his vehicle to make the universal gesture of "What the fuck?" As he stood beside his car, arms stretched out on either side of him, palms up, elbows bent, he turned his look of confusion and disbelief back and forth between the grass-covered vehicle and me. As he began to ask me what happened, I heard a shrill voice from inside of his car. "It was in neutral," stated the voice.

My assumption would be that, if I could push the car, of COURSE it was in neutral. It took several moments for the import of this simple statement to become apparent in my mind. Immediately after I grasped what she had said, I could see the dawning recognition in his eyes. I watched in shock as he climbed back into his vehicle, the reverse lights lit up, and he proceeded to back up the hill toward me.

Still in shock, I observed him turn the wheel to back up along-side the road, placing his car parallel to the roadway; making himself ready to enter traffic. I shouted "It was in neutral, THAT is why it wouldn't go?" in utter disbelief.

That was, apparently, the last straw.

The gentleman (and I use this term loosely) extended, for me, his middle finger, stomped on the gas, and roared back onto the highway.

What kind of world do we live in where, despite my efforts to help him, I end up with a middle finger for my troubles.

The kind where it is advisable to look for oncoming traffic before entering a major road during the lunch rush.

He didn't even make it all the way onto the road before an Explorer struck him at over 40 MPH in the front, drivers-side of the vehicle just ahead of the front tire, throwing him back off the road and crippling his car.

You can't write comedy like this, but wait, there's more.

I note that everyone seems to be okay, and I start to head back to my vehicle to go home. When I get to my car, I turn around to see the driver of the Explorer following me, with the purpose of asking me to stick around to be his witness. I indicated that it would be my pleasure, but I did note that there's no way that he will need me as a witness. Then he shares with me that the other driver is calling it the Explorer's fault. Somehow, the MRK was merely an innocent bystander in all of this.

I returned to the scene and, while waiting for the police (who were unusually quick to arrive), I asked the MRK driver how he figured it wasn't his fault. I was steadfastly ignored. After a moment or two of conversation, the policia make their appearance and ask Explorer what happened. Explorer describes the circumstances as he saw them, so the cop turns to MRK, and asks for his story.

MRK's story is that he was waiting to get back on the road when the driver of the Explorer came to a complete halt on the road way "right about where you we're standing" and motioned for the MRK to go. As soon as he started to go, the Explorer accelerated rapidly and slammed into him.

Explorer and I just stood idly by, mouth agape, as this story was related to us.

Moments of silence followed during which Explorer just looked appalled, the cop looked around as if to find the hidden cameras that must be trained on him and MRK nodded incessantly with a sincere expression on his face.

I snapped.

"Are you frigging kidding me? His explorer managed to get up enough speed in 10 feet to go from a complete stop to utterly smashing your front end? What engine does he have in that thing? Are you drunk?" I ranted, winding down as the officer held up a hand to silence me and fixed his gaze on the driver of the now smashed car.

"Yes, I'm going to be finding you at fault," he uttered, "I'll need your license, registration, and proof of insurance, sir."

And the MRK driver looked him dead in the eye when he replied, "...ain't got none..."

That is a direct quote.

I made my way back to my car without waiting to find out which of the above he "ain't got none" of, because the surreal hue that my life had taken on was beginning to worry me considerably.

I still feel like I'm on an episode of Seinfeld or something.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

jer_ — Fri, 01 Sep 2006 11:11:00 EDT

I haven't been able to post much because it's been a bit on the busy side, and that really won't end until Labor Day, but between now and then, I thought I would catch things up a bit with an amusing anecdote from one of my classes on Wednesday.

On Wednesday, our instructor was apparently not going to be able to make it to class. Just as we were all getting ready to leave, a substitute teacher showed up. We all got seated at which point he asked that we get out our workbooks so we can do logic exercises. Now it's important to note that this is the first time we have really looked at the workbook. In fact, until then, I hadn't even opened mine. We flip to page four where the madness begins; we are introduced to "Larry Logic".

As the first page is read to us, it is almost insulting how low level this book is. We are greeted with "My name is Larry Logic. If you are logical when you follow my trail of arguments, you will find out what my occupation is", followed by a series of the most child-like statements of logical argument any of us have ever seen. The class begins grumbling right away and the teacher, noticing this, asks a bad, bad question.

"What's wrong?"

Nobody wants to answer. That's a lie. Everyone WANTS to answer, nobody is willing to answer because this is one of those cases where telling the truth is a bad thing. Well, most people see that...

"Umm, this book was written for grade school children? Did the author know that big boys were going to be reading this? It's just a little insulting..."

Things went on from there for a few seconds as I mocked the book for a little while. The class laughed for a bit, the instructor blinked a few times, then moved on without comment. No sense of humor, I suppose.

We make it through the first exercise and he asks what we thought of it. Again, although we were all complaining amongst ourselves about how poor the layout was and how frustratingly bad and difficult to follow the design was, the room is silent. Well, mostly silent...

"Well, for someone teaching 'logic', the author certainly didn't employ any in the layout of this page. Half the time you can't tell where you're supposed to go from where you are at that moment, the rest of the time you can find out where you should go, but you don't know what information you should be taking there. The layout is atrocious."

The class nods along, but nary a voice can be heard as the room got less and less comfortable amidst the silence that followed my explanation. We moved on.

The next exercise had a much better layout. We made our way through it until we reached the second to last question. The questions were True/False inquiries about a defined logic chain detailed above. The second to last question was painfully ambiguous. He asked for our answer, and someone said "False" and explained why. The teacher asked if anyone had true. I raised my hand and explained why the answer could certainly be true as well, based on the ambiguous question. I explained how the question was likely SUPPOSED to read, and what the author was probably trying, ineffectually, to ask. I explained how the question would be false if it were asked properly,. but as it stood, the answer had to be true.

He stammered out a noncommittal response that didn't really specify which answer would be correct. Someone in the class specifically asked if the answer was True or False, and was met with more evasion. The individual went on to ask our substitute teacher what HE taught. The response was mortifying:

"I teach Logic, er, I teach this class."

Then he said his name. His name was familiar… so familiar, that I was filled with a sense of dread as I flipped my book shut and glanced at the name on the front cover. The last names matched. Still clinging to a desperate hope that it was some sick coincidence, I glanced back up at the instructor to see him waiting for my response. As our eyes met, he nodded his head once in recognition and said, "Yeah, that's me," then dismissed class for the day... 20 minutes after class had begun.

I am not proud to say, I virtually sprinted from that room.

Ahh, the fun of being me.

IM Spam

jer_ — Thu, 03 Aug 2006 13:13:00 EDT

Random "Come to my porn site" spam from Yahoo IM:

Session Start (j120608:gimmekok2369): Tue August 01 15:42:07 2006 [01-August-1542] gimmekok2369: welo anyway, guess your not there? [01-August-1542] Jer_: umm... no, i'm here... [01-August-1542] Jer_: whossis? [01-August-1542] gimmekok2369: oh your thhere :) hi... [01-August-1542] Jer_: heya [01-August-1543] gimmekok2369: a/s/l (age sex locatiion)? [01-August-1543] Jer_: 58/m/detroit... u? [01-August-1543] gimmekok2369: im 27/f/USA. was lookin at your profile. thought you mightt like to chat. [01-August-1544] gimmekok2369: so whaat have you been up to j120608? [01-August-1544] Jer_: not much, Applying ointment to these sores, u? [01-August-1545] gimmekok2369: cool. i was just hangin out watching tv. i was getting kinda horny :) (*blushes) [01-August-1546] gimmekok2369: feel like a little cyber fun with mee ? please please... [01-August-1546] Jer_: what a coincidence.. so was i .. rubbing the cream on there always does that to me .. how embarassing :P [01-August-1546] gimmekok2369: :) [01-August-1546] Jer_: the state health department said that i have to tell everyone that I get with that I have herpes though... just want to let you know [01-August-1547] gimmekok2369: oh well your loss. why dont you open up my profile and see what you missed out on. theres a link there to my homepage where i have some real nice pics to leeave with. [01-August-1547] Jer_: see, it always ruins it when i tell... that's why i usually chloroform girls and keep them in my trunk... [01-August-1548] gimmekok2369: you r a sick fuck [01-August-1548] Jer_: i'm sorry, don't go... :( [01-August-1550] Jer_: r u gone? :( I don't think you can get herpes if I don't have sores... and I haven't had any in like, 2 days... [01-August-1552] Jer_: now THIS is depressing, i can't even get CYBER sex... *sigh* Session Close (gimmekok2369): Tue August 01 16:01:06 2006

The Flame War

jer_ — Thu, 20 Jul 2006 19:22:00 EDT

There is a website on which I am a member. It is mostly a site for photography enthusiasts, but as part of it, there are message boards integrated. It is typically a pretty friendly, benign place, but, at times, it explodes into random flame wars. The past few days have played host to a particularly amusing one. The text of which (along with some explanations) are below:

For ease of reading, my statements that are added after the fact are in red.

Background information:

A picture was posted by "eddo" that spurred a spirited discussion about the current military festivities in Haifa(sp?). There are tons of messages that come prior to the start of this, but most are unimportant. The thread starts here with "pthreads" alluding to some past event in which "eddo" apparently cited a thesis paper his brother wrote, but never provided the text of said paper.

lmao. maybe eddo's brother wrote another non-existant paper on it.

2006-07-18 14:48:23

» pthreads

pthreads... why are you being such a fucktard?

2006-07-18 14:49:54

» eddo

if it hasn't been copywritten why would i give it out to you?

2006-07-18 14:50:21

» eddo

I didn't ask you to give it to me, if it was truly his phd work it would be published and I could pull it up. and then yes, it would be as good as copy written, it would be published by his .edu and ripping it off would be foolish.

2006-07-18 14:51:34

» pthreads

not phd. masters.

2006-07-18 14:52:10

» eddo

and it has not been published yet. well, parts of it were published at MIT. i can try to get some info from him so you can get it yourself.

2006-07-18 14:52:44

» eddo

ah, well where did he study? I'm in academia, I can ask around about it.

2006-07-18 14:53:57

» pthreads

by all means, go ahead, that is what I asked for almost a year ago it seems. All I need is his name, I know somebody who did poli sci at MIT.

2006-07-18 14:54:49

» pthreads

tel aviv university. main focus was iran, as you know already.
i thought you were an emt? what do you do?

2006-07-18 14:55:22

» eddo

what does emt stand for?

2006-07-18 14:56:19

» CheValierXP

emergency medical technician

2006-07-18 14:57:23

» eddo

I've held a few careers, emt (for six years, my cert actually just expired this past year), I have/still do work in IT, and now I'm in academia (working full time/school full time) for Russian/Eurasian History.

2006-07-18 14:59:30

» pthreads

hence I have the resources to look up his paper.
Seriously, I'd be very intrested to see the apper that refutes what all other historians are saying, that Palestinians are not recent immigrants.

2006-07-18 15:00:21

» pthreads

wtf?

2006-07-18 15:02:43

» CheValierXP

Now pthreads explains what he means about the paper:

Chev: old thread, about last year (I'm actually trying to find it now). He claimed Palestinians were recent immigrants, and when I provided various links to history departments at various .edus refuting his statement, he said his brother wrote a paper with research backing it up. Needless to say, my simple request for his brother's name so I could look up the paper never was answered.

2006-07-18 15:04:51

» pthreads
I pulled this link, because it indicates the site this was culled from, and it's unreachable unless you're a member anyway.

chev: http://xxxx.xxx/xxxxxxxxx/?c=comments&fileid=64408#865317

2006-07-18 15:13:21

» pthreads

Time for the x-files esque threats of black helicopters and secret agents:
and i cannot give you his name because he works with the US gov't. do you want a knock at your door? i can arrange one if you'd like.

2006-07-18 15:14:33

» eddo

palestinians have more in common with jordan and egypt thank jerusalem.
they want what they can't have ONLY because the jews have always been their enemy.

historians? you mean your flop finkelstein! ha... you're so typical to continue bringing this guy up...

2006-07-18 15:16:57

» eddo

eddo, you are so laughably full of shit. he's publishing the work with MIT but there is not name attached to it?

yes, I'd like the knock at the door thanks. Calling bullshit on this one.

2006-07-18 15:17:20

» pthreads

you call BS on anything i say... nothing new.

2006-07-18 15:26:32

» eddo

so, your credentials please. wait, i'm gonna do what you do: bullshit!

2006-07-18 15:27:10

» eddo

My credentials as far as what? I'll back up anything I say with a reference eddo.

I called bullshit on your assertion that palestinians are recent immigrants. You busted out your brothers work as proof. I asked to see where this so called paper was. It never materialized. That gives me the right to call bullshit, it's not arbitrary like with you.

2006-07-18 15:28:54

» pthreads

pthreads has a point here.

people in "sensitive" govt. positions publish quite frequently, that really shouldn't be stopping him from providing the paper.

2006-07-18 15:30:20

» root

as i stated above, i will speak with him.

>>people in "sensitive" govt. positions publish quite frequently,that really shouldn't be stopping him from providing the paper.

we're not talking about the white house or an fbio desk clerk.. get my drift.
i'm sure he used a pen name and will see if he wants to use it, here.

>>I'll back up anything I say with a reference as far as your references go, they have been very one sided. i have posted both sides of the spectrum and you still call me bulshit... i will not post a linmk with you because it's just not worth it...

your credentials: are you a professor? or do you mop floors at a university?

2006-07-18 15:48:55

» eddo

what if israel kidnapps lebanese soldiers, what should lebanon do?

2006-07-18 15:52:31

» CheValierXP

eddo, fair enough. there are more than enough people out there who don't need their names thrown around, and for very good reason. Hope to see the paper soon enough though.

2006-07-18 16:01:25

» root

che, In that situation, I think lebanon should fuck israel's shit up.

2006-07-18 16:01:50

» root

eddo: "student full time"

I don't care what his real name was, hell, I don't care if he's really your brother. Show me something, anything that says the palestinians are recent immigrants.

2006-07-18 16:06:04

» pthreads

pthreads: ok. you said work. was confused. what's your focus/major etc

2006-07-18 16:23:11

» eddo

2006-07-18 16:24:51

» thetophus [ this is good ]

At this point, I HAD to jump in... I mean, nobody is pointing out the absurdity:

"We're not talking about the white house or an fbio desk clerk.. get my drift. i'm sure he used a pen name and will see if he wants to use it, here."

Hold on... hold on.... I'm trying to get the tears of laughter to subside so I can write this...

Alright, I think I'm okay. So what you're saying, Eddo, is that your secret agent brother wrote a top secret masters thesis that is the only source of true knowledge about the recent immigration of palestinians?

Umm.. seriously?

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Okay, sorry, that was immature. Your brother probably is a super secret agent. And he probably did write just such a paper. How about THIS then, how about you throw us the name of one or two of his citations?
You know, we don't need his paper, just where he got HIS super secret facts.

Oh, and we'll probably need his secret-sqirrel decoder ring to read the information when we get it.

ROFL... *secret... agent man... secret.... agent man"

2006-07-19 04:55:23

» jer_

^DICK

2006-07-19 05:17:42

» eddo

no actually eddo could *gasp* be telling the truth. There are quite a few people who work at various agencies who would rather not be named, b/c being "well known" in ANY field would immediately disqualify them from working on quite a few projects. It's not that their "secret agents," people with certain access are told to keep a low profile - for a variety of reasons.

Although, why couldn't eddo just present some of the facts/references of the paper (if it's a masters degree - that's what it is - a collection and analysis of other peoples work) and provide those? No need for names.

2006-07-19 07:19:46

» root

for people like jer and pthreads, they're know it alls. pthreads especially, in past posts, has been brutal with discounting every and or any link i have provided and also (and i'm sure he never looked) any book i have referenced.

therefore, in my good judgement, providing a paper by my brother or anyone, will be useless. my brother does work for the US gov't and has expressed he does not wnat his name on his work or referenced anywhere. i could, in theory post his references, but I will not sit here and be mocked (not contructively critisized) by a so-called permanent "william hunting" student of acedemia who moonlites as an ambulance driver. i have asked on numerous occasions to "argue" off-line with pthreads and chev thru email, but they'd rather do it here where they have a soapbox.

On one occasion, when chev and i were arguing the validity of his family's heritage/history on/in the israeli land he said he had direct proof from a book that could be found in any middle east section of a library like the New York Public Library. Did he ever send me this reference? no he did not. why? probably because the book does not exist.

jer is a new maxxer and is probably a decent guy, but has charged at me like a bull (now he'll parade around saying i think he's trolling me) since i started posting these photos. he has jumped on the bandwagon...great.

Regardless of links or references (which in most cases never help a photo, i.e. newspapers use stock photos as filler all the time, i used to work at the NYT and this was practiced, they're relevant to the article, but not "real-time" photographs). Any photo i have posted here in israels favor is always propaganda. most of the photos that i have posted here, like the *argricultural* photos that show palestinians cultivating their land is truth (only if it shows them in a good light). i really do not care either way.

but the manner in which i have been critisized has not been on any sort of expert or professional level. so, in turn, i retort with sarcasm that they feel is a direct attack on their intelligence.

so be it. continue the mockery.

2006-07-19 08:14:05

» eddo

Actually, I mock anyone who makes up secret agent family members and illusory documentation. I believe that I took potshots at your current nemesis, chev, in a seperate post, actually. I don't have any personal axes to grind, aside from a predilection against made up facts and poorly executed logic traps.

Nice try.

2006-07-19 09:45:14

» jer_

Oh, sorry, I feel I should respond more specifically to your point, actually.

My only problems with "you" involve the posting of TONS of pics in a row when you do post, and your whining when you get tibbed.

Both are matters of personal preference (mine) and therefore, are virtually inarguable. When I get bored with your posts, I start tibbing, because, per the faq, they are something I "don't want to see anymore". I also tig pics that I enjoy and ignore the others. I do not tib often.

As far as the "coming at you like a bull", I have participated in several (spirited) discussions in which you were a part (and several more in which you were not a part) and I don't think you received worse or better treatment than anyone else that argues in such an absurd and illogical manner. Suck it up. My rhetorical style does not invalidate my points, such as they are. You made a wildly ridiculous claim that you know is indefensible and inattackable inherently, and therefore, were offended when I pointed out how stupid it sounds. Yes, you COULD be telling the truth. My mother COULD be the Queen of England, too. Both are similarly likely.

Oh, and, as the people here who know me irl can attest, I'm most certainly NOT a nice guy. :)

2006-07-19 09:52:30

» jer_

then you're not a nice guy. you're loss. my gain.

>>I mock anyone who makes up secret agent family members and illusory documentation.

yeah i'/m making it up. i never said he was a secret agent, that's your delusional mind creating truth for yourself. that's ok. but don't presume. if i could that up with something like a link i would, alas i cannot. whetehr you believe me or not does not concern me, but it would be best in your interests if you don't presume i'm lying, you sound like a fool.

the only tib i bitched about as of recent was sporkys tib on ONE of my posts. teh last time that happened was last year when a lys was just being a dick to be a dick... stop making shit up to make yourself sound like you're in the clear... i stated what i stated as fact and stuck with it.

2006-07-19 10:41:07

» eddo

My brother is a super secret government employee, and he wrote a masters degree thesis on what a dick you're being.

2006-07-19 11:02:18

» jer_

>>My brother is a super secret government employee, and he wrote a masters degree thesis on what a dick you're being.

I do not envy your children, the idiots they must be.

2006-07-19 11:03:42

» eddo

Actually, my brother (the secret agent) also wrote a masters thesis on how smart they are, but thanks for asking.

:)

2006-07-19 11:06:10

» jer_

I think it is important to note that, throughout this whole process, I cannot get the "Secret Agent Man" song out of my head... so please have that in mind when reading.. it makes it no more or less amusing.. but it does add a certain perverse sense of drama to the proceedings.

2006-07-19 11:07:10

» jer_

that is a good song.

2006-07-19 11:10:28

» eddo

I always thought he was singing "secret Asian man."

2006-07-19 11:28:13

» latecomer [ this is good ]

maybe he is...

2006-07-19 11:30:26

» eddo

>>che, In that situation, I think lebanon should fuck israel's shit up. » root

root, israel has lebanese priosners...

2006-07-19 12:20:55

» CheValierXP

^what's your point? this battle is really not about prisoners of war, you do realize that don't you?

2006-07-19 12:24:12

» eddo

what is it about?

2006-07-19 12:38:02

» CheValierXP

his brother could tell you, but he'd have to kill you

2006-07-19 12:51:46

» jer_

>>che, In that situation, I think lebanon should fuck israel's shit up. » root

root, israel has lebanese priosners... » CheValierXP

what are they waiting for?

(assumed response) They can't take on israel.

(my response to assumed response) then I guess the more powerful army wins.

2006-07-19 13:01:59

» root

exactly root, israel has one of the most powerfull armies in the world [mostly due to it's air force], it's like a bully backed by the police [in this, scenario george w. bush] the war on lebanon could have been solved by deplomacy, instead israel wants to use it's idle army that is capable of taking whole armies, this only a demostration of the israeli muscles and has nothing to do with hizbullah or anyone. israel can't show it's strength in gaza, cause it's considered as occupied territories it's very small area, and extremely dense with civilians, so israel chose another target, hizbullah was stupid in his timing, i should add, but still things must be said, like if israel made peace with lebanon before they withdrew, then disarming hizbullah would have been a very easy step, but israel still holds lebanese prisoners, still occupies parts of lebanon, what did israel expect, that lebanese just forget about them?

2006-07-19 15:43:37

» CheValierXP

^ that statement couldn't be further from the truth.

2006-07-19 15:57:50

» eddo

people differ in opinion.

2006-07-19 15:59:38

» CheValierXP

Dantooine... I mean Gaza ... is too remote to make an effective demonstration. But don't worry. We will deal with your Rebel friends soon enough.

2006-07-19 16:02:42

» root

yes they do. thankfully it's only YOUR opinion.

2006-07-19 16:03:17

» eddo

As has been said, you could simply post the references themselves. In addition, if you put it here under his psuedonym, nobody would know it was him. In addition to that, you are so obviously full of shit.

There is literally *zero* chance this is true. While people in Washington do publish under psudeonyms occasionally, it isn't AT A UNIVERSITY. No University would allow him to do that, least of which MIT. You can't get a masters under a psuedonym.

Thank you, come again.

2006-07-19 16:52:56

» pthreads

Oh, and I do work full time while going to school full time. Work == IT. Focus in Academia is Russian/Eurasian History, although I have done some work on non-proliferation issues in the Southern Tier of Russia (South Caucasus and Central Asia).

2006-07-19 16:54:03

» pthreads

full of shit, right... you're only fooling yourself overachiever., but i'm used to your BS rhetoric. in fact i get a good laugh when i see your name attached to it.

>>While people in Washington do publish under psudeonyms occasionally, it isn't AT A UNIVERSITY. No University would allow him to do that, least of which MIT. You can't get a masters under a psuedonym.

thanks you just made my point more valid. here hold my hand i will walk you thru it:

1. *While people in Washington do publish under psudeonyms occasionally... *, occasionally being key word.

2. *No University would allow him to do that, least of which MIT.* he published under his real name at the university b4 the job (stands the reason i will not give you his name).

3. *least of which MIT.* After graduating he got the job 9 months later and now uses his psuedonym. hmmm... you can call me whatever you want. my arguments with you and chev stay here, i really don't any of this name calling bs much thought outside of here.

2006-07-19 17:13:58

» eddo

also, your name? is it really pthreads? my name is in my tag. and i have also on numerous occasions posted my email here with a full name. with any luck you could have picked that up and done your own research.

2006-07-19 17:15:22

» eddo

Name and email address below pulled by me. I didn't suppose pthreads wanted his personal information ready by my plethora of readers :)
Xxxxx Xxxxxx xxxxxxx@xxx.edu

And if he published it under his real name, the one that he now has the job under, then they already know what it is all about. They didn't bother to ask him what he got his masters in? eddo, you are so full of shit man. There is no way this story is true.

2006-07-19 17:52:12

» pthreads

>>And if he published it under his real name, the one that he no whas the job under, then they already know what it is all about. They didn't bother to ask him what he got his masters in?

now you're just making an ass of youself? "whos is this they you're talking about?" the gov't? this convo shows how little you do know about privacy and the freedom of information act. good luck with that ignorance...

ok to you i'm full of shit. you know what that means? nothing? why? because you're nothing. you're a little bullshit student who works fulltime. wow... kudos to your skills big guns... kudos

2006-07-20 06:39:49

» eddo

Hold on... did Eddo "Secret Agent Man" himself just say someone ELSE is making an ass of themselves? Seriously?

Lemme recap.
* Eddo makes unsubstantiated claims about migration. Someone calls bullshit.
* Eddo cites his brother's masters thesis as a well researched source for his claims
* Someone calls bullshit and asks for a reference
* Eddo claims his brother is a super secret agent, then concocts some zany hijinx including a series of psuedonyms, a russian hooker, two bottles of scotch, a tuxedo and three penguins that is supposed to explain why he can't give a reference to his brother's "masterwork"
* Someone calls bullshit and asks for some of his brother's bibliographic citations then
* Eddo ignores this request, instead focusing on the accusations that his brother is NOT a super secret agent
* Machinations behind the scenes are set in motion to have the naysayers killed by a super secret government agency. Secret Squirrel and James Bond are deployed.
* Someone points out that Eddo is full of shit, and reiterates request for SOME form of evidence
* Eddo indicates that even IF he posts evidence, no one will believe him anyways, thereby negating the need for evidence to start with.
* Plato rolls in his grave at the hideous deformation of rhetorical logic employed by Eddo... planets are shaken by the irony
* James Bond and Secret Squirrel were given the wrong address, because the pseudonyminous "brother" can't betray his position by using Google Maps. After offing a slew of school children, they are given a new address for Chev, Jer_, Pthreads, and any other naysayers involved.
* Little did they know, Jer_ is *ALSO* a super secret agent, and his brother did a master's thesis on how to avoid being killed by super secret agents... thereby making him invincible
* Someone else points out Eddo's bullshit and requests information of ANY sort related to this alleged source of arcane knowledge written by Eddo's brother.
* Eddo mocks the requestor, subtly defusing the situation through employment of wit and intelligent rhetorical devices

(Okay, I made the last item up... Eddo isn't that bright, my bad)

That sound about right?

2006-07-20 09:34:14

» jer_

^let me recap: you're a fucking asshole who fondles his children.

2006-07-20 09:35:40

» eddo

Have those little bastards been talking again? I told them I'd kill them!

Umm... how about instead of name calling, false rhetoric, or whatever other bullshit you have handy, you do one of two things:

A) Give bibliographic references from this alleged paper (which would in no way give away your brother's presence)

or

B) Admit you lied, and lied poorly, so we can move on with a minimum of ROFL-itude

2006-07-20 10:04:55

» jer_

>>>Umm... how about instead of name calling, false rhetoric,or whatever other bullshit you have handy, you do one of two things:

and mocking me isn't the same? go fuck yourself you two-bit half educated asshole.

2006-07-20 10:47:27

» eddo

Umm.. if I could do that, I wouldn't be wasting time on here...

Mocking you is *NOT* the same, actually. I'm not the one making the ridiculous claims that Secret Squirrel is my brother, Morocco Mole is my father, and there are top secret, Davinci Code style documents produced in secret by my family that will blow the lid off this Palestine thing.

The burden of proof is on you... but... much like a politician, you opt to grandstand and make a big show of anything BUT the part where you can't back up your silly claims.

Just realize, while I'm off fucking myself and fondling my children and such, that we SEE that you're avoiding a real response to the topic, and we KNOW you're full of shit, and it's FUNNY.

It stopped being mockery when you decided to start mocking your own position. Now it's just sad and amusing in a "look at Chevy Chase's career pratfall again" sorta way.

2006-07-20 11:33:44

» jer_

nice ex-cuse.

2006-07-20 11:38:53

» eddo

And yet, you still duck it. :) We still notice!

2006-07-20 11:44:19

» jer_

did you graduate highschool? I bet you never even went to a university... your argument-style is that of a 10th grader.

what do you know about a thesis anyway? You clearly never wrote one.

2006-07-20 11:45:20

» eddo

no you and threads ntice it, no one else gives a shit.

2006-07-20 11:46:01

» eddo

My argument style? By that I assume you mean the way I stay on topic despite your attempts to derail the discussion onto topics that have nothing to do with your secret agent brother's master's thesis? Is that the style to which you refer?

Still avoiding, eh?

2006-07-20 11:47:17

» jer_

pthreads at least is a student at a univerity with some background knowledge on papers. alhough he too has no experience with a thesis, which is also quite obvious by his lack of knowledge on publishing as well.

2006-07-20 11:47:22

» eddo

when did i say i say i have a secret agent as a brother? that was your creation and off topic.

2006-07-20 11:47:56

» eddo

First, for what it's worth, you're incorrect. Badly. Second, what does this have to do with you posting just a LITTLE evidence supporting your claims?

2006-07-20 11:48:48

» jer_

be careful what you say...

2006-07-20 11:49:00

» eddo

Or your secret agent brother will come get me? *DUH DUH DUUUUUHHHHH*

Evidence? Got some?

2006-07-20 11:49:40

» jer_

i have posted hundreds of links in past agrguements with pthreads, some biased some not stating my proof. i have also referenced books. he has with his "expert <laughs hysterically> knowledge on the middle east" discounted everyone of them... so why bother with you a person with no education in any of this... you're here bothering me because you feel lonely in life and need an ex-cuse to feel loved. yeah i love you man... i love the fact that you have no educational background to prove i'm wrong without my references in the way.

2006-07-20 11:52:34

» eddo

yeah my sercet agent brother will come get you... well, i do know where you live... so.. maybe

2006-07-20 11:53:04

» eddo

chew on that.

/unsub

2006-07-20 11:53:22

» eddo

well look at the bright side jer_, we have 10,000 pixels of evidence.

2006-07-20 11:54:22

» CheValierXP

I don't care if you are right or wrong about your (laughable) claims. That point is secondary to the truly entertaining point: you falsifying claims about your brother's masters thesis. It has been requested several times that you post some of his citations to lend credence to your outlandish claims. You continually try to derail the conversation to avoid having to do so. The resultant belief is that you must be lying, and lashing out at anyone that points out your amusing lies.

Don't get all pissy just cause you lied. It's okay, it happens on the internet every day. Some undereducated chode like yourself makes some grand claim that he can't back, gets called on it, and refuses to back up his statement. It's all good. :)

What I find amusing is, you could make all of us that have pointed out your idiocy look stupid with just ONE link... ONE citation; but you're unable to do so. Instead, you commit yourself to personal attacks. I have the easy side of the argument, all I have to do is point out that you have consistantly failed to meet the requirements for the burden of proof under which you currently rest. I have no burden of proof, as you can't prove a negative.

Or, in common parlance: Liar, liar, pants on fire...

2006-07-20 11:57:44

» jer_

Thoughts on Addiction

jer_ — Fri, 07 Jul 2006 03:00:00 EDT

One of the things that I enjoy about the television version of Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the fact that, when they "hit" a storyline, they really hit the hell out of it. I have recently finished Season 5 and have made my way into Season 6, and one of the somewhat minor story arcs has reached its azimuth in "Wrecked", Willow's addiction to magic. I've been watching this grow and have frequently thought to myself how convincingly this mirrors the process that my own addiction took. The similarities are almost frightening.

Much like my own addiction, Willow's began as a simple crisis of personality, and now in retrospect, it is a crisis that clearly began as early as Season 1. Willow has struggled with being the nerdy, boring, un-special part of the group since the group began. I can empathize with feeling out of place, even in your group of friends. It is such a struggle to feel like everyone around you is more important, cooler, funnier, more worthy of attention, and in general, better than you. It is so easy to latch onto the first thing that sets you apart.

For Willow, it was magic, for me, it was drugs and alcohol.

Several seasons passed with very, very few specific abuses of her newfound powers. It wasn't until well into college that things really began to take a turn. My brush with addiction began a bit earlier than hers, so my personal arc began sinking quite a bit earlier, around my senior year, but both of our ascents and descents followed a fairly parallel pattern. For a time, addiction served the purpose it was meant to. It caused no problems and it was just fun, it was pure, and it could *never* devolve to the point where it would be an issue. Don't be silly. I felt popular. I felt special. People knew my name. I was a "rock star". I used to joke around that everywhere I lived and everywhere I went, I was "that guy". You know the one; that guy you hear about at parties that did that totally ludicrous thing that made everyone amazed and amused. You would hear about "that guy who did that funny thing that had the whole party rolling for hours" or "that guy who was just so amazingly fun to be around that people wanted to party with him. Even when those stories took a rather sad turn and became "that guy who ate a handful of random pills, drank a case of beer and a bottle of bourbon, and beat the shit out of the neighbor for calling the cops about the party", or "that guy who brought a different woman home every night for weeks because he could", it was still fun to be famous, even in such an insignificant way. It's what I wanted.

Of course, ultimately the stories became less party-impressive and more party-pathetic. The stories began to be about "that guy who had alcohol poisoning five times last month" or "that guy who lost his mind in a drug and alcohol fueled rage and sent his roommate to the hospital for changing the TV channel", or "that guy who got arrested again". It was hard for even ME to be amused by my own press. At that point, however, the only way to not feel bad about what I did the night before was to do more tonight; and to hell with all the nay-sayers. They were just haters anyways, they just hated how much fun I was having; let's go get drunk and forget about all of this. My addiction became self-reinforcing. Willow found out about this when she started trying to use spells to quash fights that magic started in the first place.

There is something particularly pitiful about seeing the irony in your living situation, and feeling helpless to do anything about it.

Needless to say, because of my history, I saw the storyline of "Wrecked" coming quite some time ago. It was a matter of time, and Joss Whedon's handling of emotion is entirely to real and true for him not to address Willow's problem in a realistic way. It was a difficult episode to watch. Despite time spent away from the horrors of what we refer to as "active addiction", it still hurts to think of some of the ways my addiction affected those around me. When Willow brought Dawn to the "dope house" as it were, I was haunted by hearing some of my famous lines repeated back to me. "I just need to stop in here for a second", I would say as I swung by my dealer's house, kids in tow, to pick up a little something for later. "I'll just be a second", would be the last thing the kids would hear before I wandered inside for a half hour, an hour, two hours, however long I felt the need to hang around and get freebies as I bought the evening's fare. They would even point out that "we were going to go have fun" and I would reassure them that "of course we are, Daddy just needs to take care of a few things first." How many times did a day of fun with the kids turn into a day of them watching their father get too drunk to move at a friend's house on the way to the park? This is how people I love were treated; you can't imagine how everyone else was regarded.

Seeing Willow break down after she injured and endangered Dawn, hearing her promise that she was done, that she'll stop, seeing her pain; I remember so vividly saying that time and again. I was "all done" and "a new man" more times than I care to remember, and time and again I went back because, the alternative was to be me. Why would I want to be me again?

I think that is the part that so many people who don't suffer from addiction can not understand. It is not about the drugs. I never cared what drug I was on, or what the effects were. Not much at least. It is not about being high. Being high is merely a means to an end, and so many manifestations of addiction do not even make room for being high. It is not about having friends or being popular, that is, much like being high, a means to an end as well.

It is about self hatred. For as long as I can remember, I hated being me. I was, in no way, shape, or form, good enough. Acting on my addiction would allow me, for a time, to stop hating myself; or at least to not notice how inferior I was in every possible way. Being high, feeling popular, being the center of attention, feeling loved; these were the ways to mask the self loathing. Doing drugs, doing outlandish things, making an ass of myself, and being promiscuous; these were how I attained these things.

I can no longer find the quote, but there was an article about Robert Downey Jr. that compared drug addiction to putting the barrel of a gun in your mouth, and you know that you hate the barrel there, and you know it is dangerous, but you just love the taste of the gun barrel. To me, drug addiction was like putting the gun barrel in my mouth, and I hate the taste, I know it is dangerous, and I do not want that barrel there, but it feels like the only version of me I do not have utter contempt and distaste for is the one with the taste of steel and cordite on his tongue. If that version self destructs in the process, so be it.

Of course, the corollary to this is, in true cliched form, that I do not despise myself today. I do not feel the need to use drugs, or alcohol, to feel like I am somehow special, important, or otherwise worthwhile. I have my moments, just like every normal human being does; but those moments no longer rule and destroy my life. Still, as I sit and watch the final few minutes of "Wrecked", I cannot help but reflect upon the torturous journey that lies ahead of Willow, and how grateful I am that I have the people in my life that I do; or I would never have survived my version of that same journey. I would not have even wanted to.

(Somewhere in the midst of this diatribe, I'm confident I was supposed to blame my parents for some transgressions, or society for failing me, or school for giving me some complex, or the media for glorifying such forms of "escapism"; but that is rather boring and trite. I, instead, am going to blame Mr. Rogers for having a rather creepy demeanor and Erin Pendergast for never going on a date with me in High School. I hope you are happy!)

Supermarket Fun

jer_ — Mon, 22 May 2006 01:14:00 EDT

I, somehow, forgot to post this yesterday, but I found it funny and I assume at least one or two of you will too. I was in the local Walmart, which I typically won't go to because they are tools of Satan, but I've never been one to let my personal ethical code get in the way of a good bargain, so there you go... At any rate, I'm stuck following this annoying hick woman and her demon spawn child through the aisles when I suddenly noticed something peculiar. What was it? Suddenly, I spied with my little eye that, within about a 10 foot travel path before us, you could see condoms, Vaseline, and plungers.. in that order. Why, you might ask, would Walmart do such a thing? All I can assume is that there are a lot of people who like to be fucked by plungers that prefer safe sex... At any rate, I decided to have a little fun, I walked past her cart briefly and dropped two 6-packs of condoms in the basket. I then followed her and, when she was preoccupied with grabbing something from the shelf, I lobbed a LARGE tub of Vaseline into her cart, right over her kid's head. The noise, which I did not take into account, caused her to whip around and check on her child... but satisfied that her progeny hadn't managed to do a Brittney Spears head plant, she went back to her shopping. When we neared the plungers is when disaster struck... not satisfied with only two out of three, I tried to launch a plunger into her cart while she was still there, but looking another direction. When she turned her head, she caught me. This precipitated a short diatribe that was cut short when, as she pulled the plunger from her cart asking me if I "thought this was funny", she noticed the other additions. This was when the fun started... this nice lady proceeded to scream at me, making a big scene about what I'm doing following her around the store, as she pulled condoms, vaseline, a plunger, and juice boxes(?) from her cart and hurled them to the floor. I don't know what the Juicy Juice did to offend her, but fuck that smug little juice, and fuck it's high percentage of actual fruit juice too! The funny part of this, to me, is that her ranting and raving was drawing a small crowd... but they were all snickering at her apparent "purchases", not at me... because she wasn't explaining particularly well with her blustering what I had done wrong, only that she's mad at me, and no longer wants her sexual aids. In a way, it is funnier to me that it went down this way, rather than at the checkout line, as I'd envisioned. I made my way from the store greatly cheered, and thankful to be me. :) But I am kinda a dick.

Legend of the Exploding Chipmunk

jer_ — Sun, 07 May 2006 20:23:00 EDT

I had a great weekend, although I'm more than a bit tired now as a result. On Friday, after she nearly stood them up, Becca took the kids for the weekend. I went to a meeting out on the other side of town, followed by hanging out with Nick for dinner. Laughter and good times ensued. Near the end of dinner, Bob called and told me he was headed up north. He said that he wished I didn't have a thing to do on Saturday, so I could head up. As my Saturday thing had been canceled, I made the snap decision to head up there.

As I was considerably closer to up north at the restaurant, I decided to just go from there.

Once upon a time, I used to take spontaneous road trips constantly. I can't count the number of places I've been because I was able to answer "Yes" to the question "Hey, want to go to ______" with no hesitation. That was two children and one decade ago. Today, I don't have a change of clothes constantly in my trunk. Today, I survive on something more substantial than beer, liquor, and cocaine. It was nice, however, to revisit those days in some small way this weekend. Made it to the cabin at about 1AM and promptly passed out, because weekends at the cabin tend to start EARLY. This was no exception.

At 6AM, I was up for the day. I wandered outside and took a walk on the trails for about an hour or so, then came back in time for Bob to wake up. We had breakfast at Wheelers then ran further into town to rent a bad ass lawn mower with which we planned on mowing Bob's considerable property.

This is a magical lawn mower. It mows the entire lawn in under a half hour, and still has time to do wheelies all over the place, drag race through the trails, do jumps in the oil field, drag another tractor around the property, and spin in circles like an amusement park ride. What level of white trash did I ascend to that I managed to have hours of fun on a lawn mower?

After grilling out some lunch, we collected about 2 Tons (literal, not figurative) of rocks so that Bob and his neighbor could each have decorative stones on their property. This involved walking around a plowed-under farm of around ludicrous acreage looking for the stones that are brought to the surface. I enjoyed hoisting the monstrous ones into the bed of Bob's monster truck, because, I really enjoy moving heavy objects around. I'm sick in that way. What was less fun was walking around on the very uneven ground with my ankle as it is. I keep expecting my ankle to improve, and it just won't. At this point, I can walk around fine with no pain whatsoever, as long as the ground is pretty level, and I have no need to turn my ankle in any way that normal walking doesn't typically do. Even stairs are a problem. It's beginning to piss me off. I'm not used to such limitations.

The upside, was I became the truck driver, which also got me away from Crazy Cousin Joe. Crazy Cousin Joe is fun, because, although I don't really know him, within moments of speaking to him yesterday, I was getting the lowdown on his worthless son-in-law, his mean-as-a-snake wife, his dismal sex life (only 4 times last year, none so far this year), and the fact that his wife is almost assuredly cheating on him, probably with the bowling alley owner. These are things that I don't particularly want to know, even about people with whom I'm close. This was made SO much worse by me being me. You see, he is in this tenuous place in which I don't know him well enough to make jokes with him in a friendly (or mean) way, but I know him too well to make jokes and claim ignorance as to the possibility of offense; the net result was, I couldn't say ANY of the things that popped into my head as he's pouring his heart out... like "well, I guess you won't be wanting to go bowling with us later" and "hrmm, when i was banging your wife last night, she didn't mention the bowling alley guy". Bummer.

Later in the evening, we played a game I will heretofore call "cover my car with the insides of a chipmunk". Bob and I were just relaxing outside, enjoying a pleasant evening like some homosexual married couple (as I'm sure Bob's homophobic self would be horrified to hear it described) when we observed a chipmunk frolicking around my car trying to gain entry. As the inside of my vehicle is an untenable position for the little fella, I offered up my opinion on the subject by shouting "Get away from my car!" Mr. Chipmunk, as it turns out, was unimpressed. He continued to dance and play and, occasionally, disappear into my undercarriage, only to reappear again moments later. I had made, during this time, the offhand comment that I wish I had the .22 handy, as the offending little critter was only a short 50 or 60 feet away. An easy shot for the .22 which was, alas, in the shed right next to the car. No such luck. Shortly thereafter, Bob wandered inside.

Perhaps Bob asking if the varmint was still outside should have been some form of a clue, but it didn't occur to me what was going on until Bob took his first shot from INSIDE THE CABIN with the HM2.

The HM2 requires some explanation. The HM2 is a rim fire rifle that fires a .17 caliber bullet (slightly smaller than a 22) FASTER THAN HELL. How fast? Just short of Mach 2 (the M2 part of HM2), or somewhere near two times as fast as a .22 bullet. This translates into a very, very flat trajectory with very little drop in the first 100 yards. It also translates into a tremendous amount of kinetic energy, as I was about to get an example of.

Bob's lack of familiarity with a scope caused his first shot with the rifle to miss high by a bit, which apparently didn't bother the chipmunk in the least. The unruffled critter merely looked around, seemingly interested in the loud noise, then hopped a bit closer to my car.

"Dude, you're going to shoot out my tire", I complained.

"He's not that close to your tire", he countered.

"You weren't that close to him with your last shot, either", I observed.

"Do you not want me to shoot?", he inquired.

"Umm... just don't shoot my car, okay?", I replied.

His next shot was remarkably more successful, taking the animal about center-mass, 6 inches from my car. This is where the lesson on kinetic energy comes in. Kinetic energy, when applied to a projectile, turns into acceleration. Now, this acceleration is gradually decreased as gravity and friction slowly steal the kinetic energy from the projectile. When the projectile actually hits something, a great deal of that energy is stolen all at once. Since energy cannot be destroyed, only redistributed, the energy stolen changes form. In this case, the energy's new form was a meaty explosion. Long story short (too late) there is chipmunk all over my car, and the chipmunk resembles one who might have eaten, for example, several pounds of TNT then got into a slap-boxing match.

Today, I came back home, picked up the kids (none the worse for wear) and now going to try to catch up on the fairly ludicrous amount of email that I managed to accumulate in my absence. If this update made no sense, chalk it up to my tired state, but I really wanted to get this posted and reply to one of my email senders before my pending nap.

Road Trip

jer_ — Wed, 28 Dec 2005 06:51:53 EST

Well, tomorrow, I'm headed back to MI. It's good to be going home. I had a great visit this time, don't get me wrong, there's just something to be said about being back in my routine... eating my food, drinking my fluids (ewww?), sleeping in my bed, beating my children... err... DCFS should ignore that last one. It'll just be good to be home. All in all, it was a great trip... We all had an absolutely great holiday... the kids got virtually everything they asked for... it was great. I'm really, really looking forward to seeing Spike and Mike's Sick and Twisted Animation Festival on Thursday... This was a LOT of fun last year, and I expect it will be so this year. Anyways, Law and Order is almost over... off to bed then up for a long drive tomorrow... peace.

Merry Christmas

jer_ — Sat, 24 Dec 2005 20:11:40 EST

Well, I'm in NY... and my phone coverage at my parent's place sucks pretty significantly, so if you are hoping to get ahold of me, patience is a virtue. Not a virtue I have, but a virtue nonetheless. I'm hoping to call many of ya tomorrow to wish you a happy holiday, but if I don't get to call everyone... I hope you have a great Christmas, and if you're not Christian then I hope you have a great Christmas anyways and stop your damned whining. :) At any rate, having fun with the kids, just watched 'Madagascar' in all its hilarity... I advise it.... or recommend it... or something. Peace.

Christmas

jer_ — Wed, 14 Dec 2005 00:01:41 EST

I think that Christmas doesn't so much get less exciting with age, but the excitement associated with Christmas is inversely proportionate with the amount of money one has... In less nerdy-speak, Christmas sucks when you're broke. Just knowing that there's all this great stuff out there that people would like, but you can't get any of it for them if you want a place to live at the end of the month... it's a bummer... que serra... Things are good. Still haven't heard back about my GI Bill, so I have to call them and prostrate myself before the mighty deity that is the US Government once again... hopefully they lube up this time... it's just common courtesy. I'd love to continue to be my witty self, but I have two little folks here that are expecting a dinner out for their exceptionally good progress reports... so peace.

School

jer_ — Tue, 29 Nov 2005 23:42:11 EST

Well, I'm registered for classes, and everything is peachy. I get my financial aid, etc. I just have to find out why I haven't heard back from the GI Bill people, and figure out how I'm going to live from 9 Jan to 30 Jan (I start full time classes on 9 Jan, making it hard to work full time, and my aid check probably won't be cut until the end of January). Oh well. Hope everyone had a happy Turkey day. Note: If you are too drunk to drive, you are DEFINITELY too drunk to go through the McDonalds drive thru. I've seen all manner of drunk tards. The drunks that order about $50 worth of food because everything sounds good... the topless female drunks (whom, incidentally, I love)... belligerent drunks... sleeping drunks... you name it... and all of you (except the topless female drunks) need to go home and sleep it off... or take a cab. -Jer

Monthly update...

jer_ — Tue, 08 Nov 2005 21:49:28 EST

I hate that it basically is a monthly update now... i'm so lazy... anyhoo... Apparently I'm NOT moving to Wixom. It would seem that a fairly recent eviction makes you a less than desirable potential tenant... go figure. Fortunately, I can, uncomfortably, continue to live where I am without a roommate, although a roommate is preferable... I will be much more selective this time though; if I get one at all. I applied for my GI Bill benefits today, and electronically signed my FAFSA paperwork. Now I just have to get registered for classes at HFCC and I'm off and running. Fun Fun Fun. That's about it... peace.

Blah blah blah

jer_ — Thu, 27 Oct 2005 21:05:13 EDT

Okay, so it looks like I'm moving to Wixom, in what is generally considered to be a better move. I'll be in an apartment that will cost me almost exactly what I'm paying now, but no need for a roommate. It's significantly smaller but, again, no roommate, and no lawn to mow. Oh, and closer to work by about, 15 miles and 15 minutes... one way. Oh, and no roommate. You see, my roommate robbed me of some cash, so I de-roommated him, by way of changing the locks and explaining that, since he has opted to steal from me, he's no long welcome to live with me. Apparently, this was met with some confusion, as 'you no longer live here' was mistaken for 'throw a brick through my window, climb in, and steal my kids' PS2, GFs DVD player, and all PS2 games plus some of my kids' DVDs (Veggie Tales and X-Men? C'mon now). Needless to say, with my roommate history, I'm not all about getting another one, so away I go... Also, looking at a new to me car, so hopefully that'll work out, I know that Terra HAS to be getting tired of me having stolen her vehicle completely. As a result of the above fun, though, I'm likely to hold off on starting school till I get settled in in the new place... although, possibly not. We shall see. How's that for wishy-washy and ambiguous, eh? Oh, and if you see a cracked out Indian cruising around with some children's movies and a PS2, let him know I'm looking for him :)

Checkin' in

jer_ — Wed, 05 Oct 2005 18:17:58 EDT

Not much to say. Signed up for school... just did my student loan application... and on Friday I have to do my GI bill app. Yeah for paperwork! WOOHOO! I'm too lazy for this crap. Oh, new phone btw... umm... and a new email temporarily... j120608 at yahoo (don't ask)

Bye bye Domain

jer_ — Thu, 29 Sep 2005 20:21:30 EDT

Well, Earthlink has apparently caught on that I stopped paying them SEVERAL months ago, so the domain hath gone bye bye. I might throw them some money, I might transfer it... or I might start a new domain on a new host that doesn't charge an arm and a freakin' leg. Time will tell. Very little is more frustrating than having a computer, but having no internet access. Oh, having an ex-wife that checked herself into rehab and seems to think that all is going to be ducky now is right up there. Guess what... I still don't trust you. Get your shit together for a while and perhaps I'll start believing you and be willing to accept your crap. Umm.. Peace.

National Talk Like a Pirate Day and Other Such Inanity

jer_ — Mon, 19 Sep 2005 22:52:02 EDT

Today is national talk like a pirate day... GAR! A roomate I have found, so living in the same place I be. Also, McDs has made me a manager, so more gold will be finding its way into my buried treasure... GAR! Umm... it's actually MORE annoying to type like a pirate than it is to talk, so if you haven't had your fill of piracy, call me and I'll talk like a pirate for you all you want... at $2.00 a minute, $4.00 for the first minute. Umm... off to grocery shop. Peace

Checking In

jer_ — Thu, 01 Sep 2005 21:08:38 EDT

Just checking in while I check email. Hi :) Still no roommate, so while I check email, I'm also looking for places to move to that won't make it a nightmare to drive to work and drive the kids to school with gas at a billion dollars per gallon.

Checking In

jer_ — Thu, 11 Aug 2005 19:43:46 EDT

Well, just checking in. Tons going on. I'm getting prepared to try to go back to school, so I've been researching what I want to do as far as that goes, and trying to figure out how I'm going to afford to live and support the kids while I do. It should be interesting. This afternoon I'm going to an orientation of some sort for a McJob... something that will hopefully have the flexibility I need when I start school. My roommate is skipping out on his rent, so if anyone is looking to move into a house in Inkster for about $450 a month (all utilities included... especially central air), let me know. :) Umm... I dunno... going back to researching schools/financial aid/grant packages. Whoopie! (Still on at library, so checkins will be sporadic at best)

Still no home internet...

jer_ — Thu, 30 Jun 2005 21:37:40 EDT

Well, I still have no internet access at home... work is just a bit slow... more to the point, I have work, but it's getting DONE slowly... so I'm not willing to commit to a payment until I have more money stocked up. Also, this domain should be going away soon. I haven't payed them in a while, so I'm surprised it's still here. Shortly after I get internet, I'll be starting up with a cheap hosting place while I get wordpress configured... then I'm off and running in yet another new format. Umm... that's it... except the following... from thatguychuck... just a brief mention of Rob's wedding reception faux paux... made me laugh to remember it. :) Oh, and library internet sucks. :)

Library Posting

jer_ — Thu, 16 Jun 2005 19:02:36 EDT

Posting from the library sucks. No bookmarks, no settings, no passwords saved, no cookies, no firefox, no rss feeds, no real screen resolution... and in place of these missing things? Cyberpatrol... which is easy enough to get around, but it's still annoying. How irritating. I need to get internet access at home ASAP... then a new host for my site, since I've stopped paying the old place, and don't intend to ever start again... so be not surprised if the site goes the way of the dodo bird... it will one day be back... but the blog crap will still be on LJ (www.livejournal.com/users/jer_ I think)... anyways... peace.

Moving

jer_ — Thu, 09 Jun 2005 17:58:14 EDT

Well, the computer and such get packed today... so I'm off for a while... peace

Why I Don't Date Often

jer_ — Wed, 08 Jun 2005 06:45:40 EDT

Well, I went on a date with the waitress I've been flirting with. That went well. The plan for the date was to hit dinner then meet up with my friend, who was giving a lecture, so we could all hang out and play some poker. When I explained the details of the plan, she asked why I wasn't going to see Bob's lecture. When I explained that it was because I assumed she wouldn't want to go, she said she wanted to, and off we went. This would be the last enjoyable part of the evening. We chose to play poker because she said how much she loves playing, and it seemed like a safe and fun alternative to the old 'dinner and a movie' standby. I purchased her $20 buy-in, and away we went. Things started to get weird when she clearly didn't have a clue how to play poker. I'm not talking about a general lack of understanding of the strategy behind the game... I have no CLUE about how to effectively play poker. I'm referring to a lack of understanding that these flat rectangular things are cards, and the flat round things are chips that represent money. In short, I think she might have sustained a closed head injury that prevented her from understanding concepts that involved 2-D objects. Throughout the course of the game, she fielded or initiated several phone calls, during which she referred to me as her 'boyfriend' and us as a 'couple'. When did this happen? My friends, who know how I am, could not restrain their laughter every time the word 'boyfriend' passed her lips. I could barely restrain vomit and a cold sweat. I rarely let people I'm ACTUALLY dating call me boyfriend! I got tired and really wanted to end the date, so I went all in, called, and sunk my chips into the pot. I then adjourned to the couch that was located a few feet away and proceeded to watch the remainder of the game. A half hour later, Shaina went all in, got royally humped by the river card, and moved away from the table in my direction. I started to get up, assuming we were preparing to go, and she asked if I would buy her back in. For some reason, I did. I'm a glutton for punishment. An hour later, she managed to cook that $20, and it was now about 1 AM. I asked if she was ready to go, and she looked confused. She said that she had told her parents (with whom she lives?) that she wouldn't be home that night, so she wouldn't be able to get in the house until at least 8 AM, and, couldn't she just stay at my place? I said that I wasn't going to drive home, and she could crash on Bob's spare bed while I slept on the couch. She agreed and left the room and I reclined on the couch to watch the remainder of the game and talk shit about her. Minutes later, she asked if she could sleep on the other end of the sectional couch, instead of on the bed. Grudgingly, I agreed, put my head back, and started to drift to sleep. 'Jer!', Scott shouted, waking me from my near slumber. I looked up and glared at Scott, which is when I noticed that Shaina had changed her position to lie on my lap with her head in my crotch. Accepting the inevitable, I started to go back to sleep. 'Jer!', Scott shouted, halting my drift toward sleep. Glaring at Scott again, I noted that my pants were unzipped, and Shaina, 'in her sleep', was trying to fish out my equipment. In a room full of people. I made a point of re-zipping my pants and going back to sleep. Only to have Scott jar me from sleep again; and again; and again. More than a half dozen times, Scott would yell at me for drifting off and, upon waking, I'd see evidence of Shaina's attempts to get, literally, into my pants. It was only after the fourth or fifth time that I realized that the whole reason Scott was even waking me was to stop her onslaught. Un-amused. No means no, right? The next morning, I prepare to drop her off early, as I have a softball game. She expresses an interest in watching the game, so, for some reason that I cannot fully fathom, I bring her along. At softball, she tries to join in several conversations my friends and I are having, and comes off as so immature and uneducated that I want to crawl under a rock FOR her. I avoid going out for lunch after the game with the team so I can dump her off at her house. Hooray, the horror is over. Or is it? Today, when she calls, I explain that I'm too busy for dating, and, frankly, I don't think it's going to work out anyways, so I don't want to see her again. She says that she understands... then says that I should call her tomorrow so we can meet up and hang out... then hangs up before I can correct her. Umm... is that an option? WTF? Why do I get the winners, huh? I feel like I have to change my phone number, move, burn my clothes, put garlic cloves and wooden crosses up everywhere, pour a ring of salt around my bed, and hide my bunnies and boiling water to avoid this raving looney. But maybe I'll have sex with her first...

Why I Don't Date Often

jer_ — Wed, 08 Jun 2005 02:45:00 EDT

Well, I went on a date with the waitress I've been flirting with... that went well.

The plan for the date was to hit dinner then meet up with my friend, who was giving a lecture, so we could all hang out and play some poker. When I explained the details of the plan, she asked why I wasn't going to see Bob's lecture. When I explained that it was because I had assumed she wouldn't want to go, she said she wanted to, and off we went.

A promising start, little did I know that this would be the last enjoyable part of the evening.

We chose to play poker because she said how much she loves playing, and it seemed like a safe and fun alternative to the old "dinner and a movie" standby. I purchased her $20 buy-in, and away we went. Things started to get weird when she clearly didn't have a clue how to play poker. I'm not talking about a general lack of understanding of the strategy behind the game... I, personally, have no CLUE about how to effectively play poker. No, I'm referring to a lack of understanding that these flat rectangular things are cards, and the flat round things are chips that represent money. In short, I think she might have sustained a closed head injury that prevented her from understanding concepts that involved 2-D objects.

Throughout the course of the game, she fielded or initiated several phone calls, during which she referred to me as her "boyfriend" and us as a "couple". When did this happen? Why wasn't I informed? Don't I get a say in this? My friends, who know how I am, could not restrain their laughter every time the word "boyfriend" passed her lips. I could barely restrain vomit and a cold sweat. I rarely let people I'm ACTUALLY dating call me boyfriend!

I got tired and really wanted to end the date, so I went all in, called, and sunk my chips into the pot. I then adjourned to the couch that was located a few feet away and proceeded to watch the remainder of the game. A half hour later, Shaina went all in, got royally humped by the river card, and moved away from the table in my direction. I started to get up, assuming we were preparing to go, and she asked if I would buy her back in. For some reason, I did.

What can I say, I'm a glutton for punishment.

An hour or so later, she managed to cook that $20 and it was now about 1 AM. I asked if she was ready to go and she looked confused. She said that she had told her parents (with whom she lives!?) that she wouldn't be home that night, so she wouldn't be able to get in the house until at least 8 AM, and, couldn't she just stay at my place? I said that I wasn't going to drive home, and she could crash on Bob's spare bed while I slept on the couch. She agreed and left the room while I reclined on the couch to watch the remainder of the game and talk shit about her. Minutes later, she returned to the room asking if she could sleep on the other end of the sectional couch, instead of on the bed. Grudgingly, I agreed. Since my trash-talk was summarily interrupted, I put my head back and started to drift to sleep.

"Jer!", Scott shouted, waking me from my near slumber.

I looked up and glared at Scott, which is when I noticed that Shaina had changed her position to lie on my lap with her head in my crotch. Accepting the inevitable, I started to go back to sleep.

"Jer!", Scott shouted, halting my drift toward sleep.

Glaring at Scott again, I noted that my pants were unzipped, and Shaina, "in her sleep", was trying to fish out my equipment. In a room full of people. I made a point of re-zipping my pants and going back to sleep.

Only to have Scott jar me from sleep again; and again; and again. More than a half dozen times, Scott would yell at me for drifting off and, upon waking, I'd see evidence of Shaina's attempts to get, literally, into my pants. It was only after the fourth or fifth time that I realized that the whole reason Scott was even waking me was to stop her onslaught.

Un-amused. No means no, right?

The next morning, I prepare to drop her off early, as I have a softball game. She expresses an interest in watching the game, so, for some reason that I cannot fully fathom, I bring her along. At softball, she tries to join in several conversations my friends and I are having, and comes off as so immature and uneducated that I want to crawl under a rock FOR her. I avoid going out for lunch after the game with the team so I can dump her off at her house. Hooray, the horror is over.

Or is it?

Today, when she calls, I explain that I'm too busy for dating, and, frankly, I don't think it's going to work out anyways, so I don't want to see her again. She says that she understands... then says that I should call her tomorrow so we can meet up and hang out... then hangs up before I can correct her.

Umm... is that an option? WTF? Why do I get the winners, huh?

I feel like I have to change my phone number, move, burn my clothes, put garlic cloves and wooden crosses up everywhere, pour a ring of salt around my bed, and hide my bunnies and boiling water to avoid this raving looney. But maybe I'll have sex with her first...

Moving

jer_ — Tue, 07 Jun 2005 06:17:36 EDT

On Friday, I will be moving. I'm not moving far, but it will give me and the kids significantly more room, put us in the position to pay rent... and feel less like drains on society. As a result, I'm gonna be offline for a while. I think I'll take that opportunity to migrate my hosting to a different server in preparation for switching from LJ to WordPress.... yay me. Been playing the guitar alot lately again... and finding that I really think I've gotten as good as I'm getting. If I want to get better, I think it's going to require lessons or something drastic. That's about it... Tired... Peace.

Psycho

jer_ — Sun, 05 Jun 2005 23:16:30 EDT

Well, I spent Friday night and most of yesterday with the the girl I met at Big Boy's... and the subject of this post says it all. However, I have much to do, so tonight (probably) I will update everything... to include a move... a psycho... and pretty much anything else that comes to mind. :) Peace... for now.

Why Anakin Skywalker is a Sith Lord

jer_ — Thu, 02 Jun 2005 08:22:04 EDT

Now we can find out the real reason why Anakin Skywalker switched to the darkside... in this parody of Apple's 'Switch' campaign. It's funny...laugh.

Girls

jer_ — Thu, 02 Jun 2005 08:09:46 EDT

Well, I finally got over my dating freeze to some degree, and asked the cute girl from Big Boy's for her number. Actually, she beat me to the punch and asked me for mine first, but I seriously walked over there to ask her for hers first, so it counts... I guess. Got her number, she got mine... and called tonight. See, I told you there was no 2-day rule. The downsides:

She's young (*cough*almost20*cough*) and I'm not (*cough*almost29*cough*). I mean, when she was my daughter's age, I was old enough to drive. When she turned 10, I'd already been in the army a year. She refers to the bands I listened to in high school as 'the old stuff'. Not a major biggie, but disturbing.
She's got a kid. I have two, so what? Well, I don't like the idea of Cody and Amber having any little step siblings... but, that's A) probably unrealistic and B) getting a bit ahead of myself, don'tcha think?

On the plus side, she's cute, she's into me, she's entertaining to talk to... umm... that's pretty much my criteria... so I guess we'll see. She's going to call me on Friday when she gets out of school (yeah, I said it) so we can hang out. More then.

Subliminal Lyrics

jer_ — Wed, 01 Jun 2005 07:22:10 EDT

Well, some of these I already knew ('You have found the secret message', Pink Floyd), but some I hadn't heard... and some are just flat out funny. Go see the reverse lyrics flash piece.

It's Numa Numa time

jer_ — Wed, 01 Jun 2005 06:42:44 EDT

I know, it's been here before... and it'll be here again... it's time for NUMA NUMA!!!

Real Quick

jer_ — Tue, 31 May 2005 21:22:23 EDT

Robert Heinlein's 100th Birthday is coming up... in 2 years, 37 days, 1 hour, and 17 minutes (from this posting). umm... that's devotion bordering on psychotic, but I like it. :) Anyone wanna go to KC, Missouri in two years with me? The site has been updated (notably, the menu bar to the left). If it still looks the same, reload. Umm... yeah. Finally, some people out there who are as un-racist as I am. I mean, black people love us, right? (Okay, I'm going to HOPE that anyone that comes here is bright enough to understand satire... however, for those of you who might not be familiar... just, go watch Disney or something...) Umm, that is all...

Headache

jer_ — Tue, 31 May 2005 04:53:05 EDT

Today was one of those days. It was gorgeous out, so I wanted to play outside with the kids, but my head has been killing me all day. I don't mean your average, run of the mill headache, I mean my head feels like it's going to literally split in half any second now. I still played outside for a while, and we watched a movie or two, but I'm going to bed in hopes that this pain will dissipate at some point in the near future. G'nite, and more updates tomorrow probably. Oh, and newest episode of Robot Chicken is out... pretty funny. :)

Update

jer_ — Fri, 27 May 2005 07:11:54 EDT

Not alot to report today. Well, that's a lie, a TON went on today, but I'm too tired to really get into it much... a quick overview.... I got a new sponsor, and I'm very excited about that. Agape starts tomorrow, and I'm eagerly looking forward to that. Work is going pretty well. Life is good... peace.

Rapid Fire Randomness

jer_ — Wed, 25 May 2005 06:48:05 EDT

Okay, I'm going to say it... I'm bitter. Katie Holmes is with Tom Cruise, thus ending my chances to make her the next ex-Mrs. Lance... but all bitterness aside, no straight man gushes like this over his woman. He's trying to hard. Oh, and he's WAY too old for her.... I, however, am not. 'They call me white devil... black jesus... Heaven closin'... hell freezin' From the too creepy to be real category, check this story out. Apparently, a blogger's last blog entry gave the identity of his murderer. Spooky, spooky. My name is Brandon Jones, and I hit the fucking Dell kid with a bat! (Mac switch parody... many more here. In more personal news, I'm really excited to be going to AGAPE this weekend. Should be much fun, as per usual. It couldn't have come at a better time, I need the spiritual recharge. Anyways, off to bed, g'nite all.

This hurts to imagine

jer_ — Tue, 24 May 2005 03:35:58 EDT

Okay, this is not even close to safe for work... this is also not safe for family, etc... so... Mom... just move on to the next post... but it HAS to be posted... it's too good not to view... check it out right here.

Randomness... or Zen?

jer_ — Tue, 24 May 2005 03:32:08 EDT

Badger Badger Badger... mushroom... yeah, it's odd... but soothing.

Maddox Update

jer_ — Mon, 23 May 2005 07:42:59 EDT

Maddox updated 'The Best Page in the Universe' with a new rant about Cameron Diaz's new POC show....Read the rant here... it's worth it. :) Oh, and at Ill Will Press, there's a new Neurotically Yours... hilarious... exploding teeth.

Movie: In Good Company

jer_ — Mon, 23 May 2005 06:29:06 EDT

I watched the movie In Good Company tonight, with Dennis Quaid, Topher Grace, and the lovely Scarlett Johansson. Overall, it was a very good movie, and, fortunately, not really the romance I had assumed it to be... the Topher/Scarlett thing took a backseat to more weighty issues. I enjoyed it, and would definitely watch it again. This movie did make me think of my situation a great deal, however. For those that have seen the movie, this might make sense, for the rest... oh well, blogging for one I suppose. I completely emphasize with Topher's character Carter in the movie. I know that pretty much everyone in my life thought (and likely still thinks) that I'm an idiot for getting out of computers. I'm very confident that my parents are FAR from pleased. I mean, how do you give up that much money for the crap money I make today? Much more easily that you'd think.. the hard part is taking the plunge. Don't get me wrong. I love computers. I love technology, the internet, networking, learning new things, and all of the things that go into being a computer guy... except the job. I have no passion for it. I managed to continue doing it as long as I did because of a passion for cash; for toys; for things that money and mild affluence can buy. The problem was, I just didn't enjoy it. Every day that I woke up to go to an office was a day I wished I could do, literally, ANYTHING else. I drove by construction workers on road crews in the pouring rain or the 105 degree heat and wished I was them. But I kept going in for the paycheck. I needed that paycheck to justify my pathetically meaningless life. I am tired of a life in which I find no meaning. About a year ago, I switched careers, along with everything else in my life. I couldn't be happier. I could be richer... I could be more financially stable... but I couldn't be happier. I wake up and look forward to work (most days). I feel like there is purpose in what I do. I could happily go the rest of my life and never again be 'well to do', and always have to struggle to put my bills together... but if I don't have to hate my life while I do it, I will survive. I only hope that my children can recognize the important part of my example... I don't care if they want to be a damned garbage collector... just do something that you love, that makes you feel good, that you can live the rest of your life doing... and be happy that you made the right choice. I know that I have. How do I know? I don't. I have faith that if I do my part... things will happen the way they are supposed to. Today, my sense of peace, serenity, and happiness is all the evidence I need that the decisions I'm making are correct...and will work in the long run. The kids are happy and fed... I'm happy and overfed... and all in my segment of the world feels right. I don't know why the rant, but I've been feeling really judged lately because I am not eager to jump back into the white collar, money making, office space lifestyle... and it is troublesome. Why can't I be happy... and more importantly, why can't I teach my kids BY EXAMPLE, not by words, how little importance money has in life, and how much happiness has? Well... I guess the short answer is that I can... and I'll simply politely ignore those of you naysayers that feel otherwise. Peace.

Money

jer_ — Mon, 23 May 2005 03:30:11 EDT

For years, I have strongly disliked pennies as forms of currency... until today... now I want dimes to go away forever. Pretty amusing stuff.

The Sith Sense

jer_ — Sun, 22 May 2005 07:20:43 EDT

Just another example of Star Wars Mania going hilariously too far. Some of the quotes are worth it... 'The force is not even remotely with you.'...

Softball

jer_ — Sun, 22 May 2005 07:00:07 EDT

Well, we played an excellent game, those of us who showed up... and managed to lose two very close games. Dennis played insanely well, with 3 RBIs, one homerun, and one pitcher nearly kicked in the face in game one... and a similar game two. I only managed to cross home twice.. and my fielding sucked... que serra... we can't all be all-stars :) Yeah, to hell with the 'good sport' crap. We lost and it sucks. The other team cheated... I want each and every one of those bastards tested for illegal substances. We were short-handed, overburdened with women, and they STILL had to play BS games to eke out a win against us? What trash. There, I feel better. :)

Tired

jer_ — Sat, 21 May 2005 06:55:56 EDT

Have you noticed how often 'Tired' is my subject? Man I'm a whiner. At any rate, it's midnight, I just got home from work about an hour ago... took a shower, and now I have to go to bed. I have no fingerprints, from roofing... my knee is laid open (from roofing poorly), and my body hurts... and I have a softball game at 10AM. Sweet. :) G'nite folks.

Long Story

jer_ — Fri, 20 May 2005 05:29:09 EDT

Okay, so for a month or so now, I've been working for this guy named Charles. He seems like a good guy, he pays regularly (low, but regularly), and has work going. Well, last Friday, he was short, so he wasn't able to make payroll. He paid each employee a hundred dollars, and told us that he would pay us the rest on Monday. Monday comes and goes... no money. On Tuesday, I started doing his porch rebuild job for a homeowner named Chris. Tuesday morning, in front of Chris, Charles and the laborers (both of them) got into a argument about Charles not paying them, and Charles fired them. For the next few hours, the laborers sat with Chris complaining about Charles. Now, bear in mind, Chris is already upset. His porch rebuild (a one day project) was supposed to have been done over two weeks prior. Because of this, Chris is upset, complaining, and explaining that Charles won't get any more work from Chris. I try to defend Charles, but his position is pretty indefensible. He kept blowing Chris off. Needless to say, Chris remained firm in his decision not to employ Charles anymore. It was at this point that I decided to help my friend Tom out, so I had Chris talk to Tom about his roof. Tom bid on the roof, got it, and I felt good. Then Tom asked if I could help lay shingles, for double what I was making then. I said yes, since I was broke and needed the money. I told Charles I couldn't work for him for two days, I had a roof job to do with Tom, and I'd be back Friday. Today (still no pay), he figured out which roof, got very upset, and pitched a minor fit. As a result, Chris threw us a bunch of work. I love how things just work out.

Tired

jer_ — Thu, 19 May 2005 06:59:35 EDT

Blah, very tired... going to bed. laters.

Open Talk

jer_ — Wed, 18 May 2005 07:11:47 EDT

Well, I did my open talk today. Public speaking is definitely not one of my strong suits, but everyone is telling me I did a pretty good job. Of course, these people are my friends, so they pretty much have to say I well, don't they? At any rate, I feel like I carried the message I was supposed to, and that is all I can ask. Most importantly, it is over. I have a funny story about a roof job that I'm starting tomorrow, but it's a long story, with a lot of background, so I'll either post it tomorrow, or try to find a way to trim it to reasonable and do it later, but suffice to say, it's funny. I suppose it could result in me getting fired, but frankly, with the fact that I haven't been paid for last week yet looming large over my head, that doesn't seem like too bad a deal. More later... peace.

I Am Drugs

jer_ — Mon, 16 May 2005 07:11:05 EDT

The best lines in this are too numerous to list, but I like: 'My work has finally stopped calling me... 'You can't show up to work drunk'... 'I just did'' Oh, and the heroin chick is HILARIOUS! I Am Drugs... watch it, it's funny.

Birthday Parties

jer_ — Mon, 16 May 2005 07:00:03 EDT

Well, we had Cody and Amber's birthday party today, and it went well. Lotsa people showed, to include most of their adult friends (Beef, Chris, Jeremy, Ray, Terra, Michelle, etc)... their Aunt Teresa and cousin Aaron... and their mom. Yeah, a shocker, but she showed. As it turns out, it was a good thing, because I'm retarded and managed to leave without my camera... so her pictures are all that exist of this particular time... She says she'll email em to me... we shall see though, eh? I try not to count on the things she says, then I'm not disappointed. Donovan and his mom, Brandy, showed up. Donovan was a lot of fun and I really enjoy it when Cody and Amber play with him... more so because I'm kinda into Brandy. She seems nice, and I certainly wouldn't mind bedding her down. <Parent Code>Umm, and by bed down, clearly I mean to stuff mattresses full of fluffy feathers... that is all</Parent Code> In more pressing news, I have that open talk coming up in like, 2 days, and I'm freakin'... Umm, nothing special to say now... so I'm off to bed. Peace.

The Evening's Festivities

jer_ — Sun, 15 May 2005 07:28:01 EDT

Tonight, I attended Canton's Relay for Life event. I went there pretty much exclusively to see Chuck do his fire thing. I had no real grasp on what I was attending. I was peripherally aware that this was to raise money for Cancer research, and I guess I expected a couple hundred people, a few stands, and that was about it. I was wrong... When I arrived at about 5 PM, I was a bit taken aback. There had to be a few thousand people there, maybe a hundred or so tents, a huge stage area, and all manner of sales and activities going on. The kids and I just wandered around for a few hours. We met up with Chuck's friends, Tom and Kelly and were instantly members of the 'family'. Very cool. So we wandered around, saw the sights, and generally waited for Chuck's appearance. Sadly, no sword fighting today, due to the wet and cruddy conditions. Chuck's fire eating/breathing display was awesome. Seriously, I mean, I've seen it done before, but never done A) about 6 feet from me and B) by someone I know personally, someone I know not to be impervious to fire. I had the opportunity to stand in the crowd for about 2 shows and one 'mini' show... and the crowd was impressed, not just with the fire display, but with Chuck's 'stage presence' and banter. More than one person commented that it was like two shows in one... a freak show and a comedy show... and they were right. And the nail thing?... beautifully sick...hehe :) I guess the most important thing that happened all night, however, is that I gained some insight. At one point in the evening, they do a 'silent lap', in which all of these candle lit bags are glowing, all the other lights are off... and thousands of attendees silently walk the circuit. It was while walking around this, looking at the bags... each representing either a cancer survivor, or a life taken by cancer, that I realized how serious this is. Let me rephrase. I KNOW that cancer is serious. I realize it kills. But for all the years that I smoked, etc, I just considered it something else I could die of, like old age, heart attacks, or a misplaced speeding bus. Tonight I saw the very human impact that it has on the families and loved ones... and it was a wake up call. For years I've been very cavalier about my health... a luxury I could afford as a single bachelor, with no children... or even a married father of two... but as a single father of two... I have to worry about where my kids would go it I were to die... or get badly ill... and their mother is not really an option... So I need to actually take care of myself. To that end, this has definitely reaffirmed my decision to quit smoking... (over 14 days now), but it has also prompted some other changes. For around a year now, I've had infrequent 'oddness' to do with the rhythm of my heartbeat.. and some chest pain to go along with it. It's time to get that checked out. Also, without getting into too much detail, I have a lump that needs looking into. I have lied about this to every single close friend so that they would get off my back about getting it checked... but it's time to just get it done. I guess I got the message that I was supposed to from the evening. Peace and g'nite.

Funny

jer_ — Sat, 14 May 2005 21:18:08 EDT

My mom sent me this movie and I've been laughing for the past twenty or so minutes every time I think of it... :) Thanks ma. In other news we played softball today. My fielding didn't COMPLETELY suck... and my hitting wasn't bad... got on 4 times, one sacrifice RBI, and one fly-out. I can deal with that. We lost, miserably, but it was a good time. My knee, however, is killing me. The kids had fun too, despite the rain. Now, it's nap time for everyone and then, hopefully, weather permitting, off to see Chuck do his thing. If not, maybe movies... Speaking of movies, I completely mis-timed my visit to Blockbuster last night, and Laura was there. It was the first time I've seen her since Ray pimped me out like a cheese sandwich. We chatted for a second about innocuous crap, then I high-tailed it outta there. I'm a chicken, no doubt about it.

Dreams

jer_ — Sat, 14 May 2005 05:12:33 EDT

You know what is more boring that hearing about someone else's dream? Nothing. Seriously, there is absolutely NOTHING more boring than hearing about someone else's dream. Listen, unless your dream has me in it, and we're having sex... (and, in all honesty, this works for both women AND men, because, even if I don't want to go to the party, it's nice to know I was invited)... it's boring. I don't care about what the cute penguins in fuzzy hats were doing. I don't care if your co-worker was boffing a goat. I just don't care. At the best of times, I'll feign interest and do the nodding and smiling thing. That is hard for me to do for long, so, if your dream is going to take long, let me know, so I can jump right to the bored act. You know... much yawning, checking my watch, checking my cell phone for missed calls, looking around, gnawing off my own friggin arm to escape... Did I mention I don't want to hear it? I especially like the people who ASK if I want to hear about their dream... and when I say 'No, not really', they launch into it anyways under the guise of 'oh, well let me just tell you this part'. Well, let me crack your skull with a framing hammer you self important bastard. Ooooh, ooooh... there IS something more boring that listening to someone else's dream... hearing them friggin analyze it. Yes, that's right, some of you tards will not only tell me about the dream, but then follow it up with some dime-store psychological bullshit that they picked up from Dr. Phil, Oprah, or some lame-assed self help book. No, I don't care if the goat in your dream symbolizes your deep-rooted desire to fellate Richard Nixon, or that you dreaming about your dad in drag is actually your subconscious calling out for you to dress up in a bikini and bathe in a jacuzzi full of tapioca pudding while rubbing down a dwarf. I don't friggin care you psycho. The worst part is, these jerks KNOW they're boring. How do I know? Because I've started making up dreams to share with them in return for them sharing theirs with me... and they GET BORED AND CHANGE THE SUBJECT OR LEAVE. How's that for friggin irony? (Yes, I mis-used irony... bite me, colloquial usage dictionary boy.) That's right, they can't be bothered with other people's dreams, EVEN WHEN I MAKE THEM ENTERTAINING. Self important dweebs realize it is dull, and just don't care. You know what I've started doing... I've started responding to the start of their dream with the following: 'I'm sorry, I just realized that you're boring, and I have feet'... then walking away at a brisk pace. Admittedly, I have no friends now... but, could you really call anyone that would share a dream with you a friend anyway?

Marketing/Advertising Guys

jer_ — Sat, 14 May 2005 04:47:38 EDT

Finding this link online made me laugh... then it made me think of my old company, Event Metrics Company, LLC (no, I didn't create that site... I have some taste). To me, it was everything that is wrong with marketing and advertising. I'm not a marketing guy, so maybe I'm jaded by years as a consumer... but 'tell them what they want to hear' doesn't seem like a particularly honest business strategy. Now, keep in mind, I'm not singling out EMC for doing this, my prior employer did the same thing... as did our clients. It's not EMC's methodology that I'm ranting about (they were dishonest in much more brilliant ways, like outright lying in the data... faking data... etc)... I'm ranting about marketing in general. They ALL lie. They ALL fake data... or at least the ones I've seen. I mean, the last two marketing firms I worked for (Allison Fisher and Event Metrics) BOLDLY lied, and it wasn't seen as something out of the ordinary. Perhaps I'm a bit girly for it having upset my delicate sensibilities, but when we're on-site at a Camp Jeep, for example, and the owner of the company has you completely fake a report to 'wow' em on site, that seems messed up... but there you have it.. that's marketing. I dunno, I'm babbling. Peace.

Jer Solo

jer_ — Fri, 13 May 2005 07:05:00 EDT

Well, I'm kidless tonight, as they are spending the night with their aunt. It's always nice when they spend the night there, because I know that I can trust her. It's not the fear laden issue that it is when their mom takes them... How sad is that? At any rate, nothing special tonight... went to dinner with a friend, watched a movie solo, and am off to bed. Was just nice, for a moment, to be alone. Haven't had much of that recently. Looking forward to a pretty busy weekend. Softball on Saturday at 10, until about 2... then the fire eating thing (plus various other niceties). Sunday I have the area meeting then the kids' birthday party... busy busy busy. In other news MySpleen, the torrent site that I use for TV show updates like Aqua Teen Hunger Force, and Robot Chicken, might be going away as we know it soon. Apparently the MPAA is cracking down on torrent sites that traffic in TV shows and such. Major bummer... it would be different if we could go buy the DVDs.. but there are none for many of the shows I actually like. Oh well.

Day Off!

jer_ — Wed, 11 May 2005 15:35:55 EDT

I get a day off today. Why? Because aluminum ladders, aluminum trim, and lightning don't play well together. Yay for near electrocution.... :) That means, I can do laundry, dishes, some house cleaning that needs doing, and still meet Bob and Rich for dinner before the meeting tonight. Or, I can take a nap... which do you think I'm doing? Guess. ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..........

Nerd Test

jer_ — Wed, 11 May 2005 05:18:32 EDT

I bet that about HALF the ppl that come here would score higher, sadly, probably on both... hehe :P Oh, and there's a purity test right here that I took tonight. My mom reads this, so I'm not gonna say what my score was... but I'm curious... tell me someone scored higher than... umm...Mom, now's a good time to stop reading if you happen to be... hypothetically ixty-say even-say... hrmm? Welcome back Mom... if you read that... umm... sorry?

My Pimp Ride

jer_ — Wed, 11 May 2005 04:48:26 EDT

I get at LEAST one offer per day, usually two or three, for my car. It's an '87 Cutlass Supreme in really good shape. It needs brakes before too long, but that's really all that's wrong with it. It is pretty clean, virtually no body damage or rust... you know, a nice car. Occasionally, I get real offers... More often, I get crap offers when I'm at work in the hood. Offers like: 'Hey man, you sellin' that?' 'Could be, you want to buy it?' 'I'll give ya $250 right now' or: 'Hey man, how much would you want for the car?' 'I dunno, what are ya offering?' 'I'll give ya $50 now, and pay ya $20 per week, for like, 8 weeks?' I mean, does that shit work? Seriously? I mean, by my math, the second guy is only trying to pay about $210 anyways... I guess what puzzles me is that they seem to be earnest, they are the ones that bring it up... and they seem genuinely upset when I don't leap on their $250 cash offer? Hey, crackhead... buy a bluebook... hell, just take a stab that a car that runs is worth more than $250... and any stranger willing to sell you a car on a payment plan without knowing you in the slightest... is selling you a stolen car...

Thought for the day

jer_ — Tue, 10 May 2005 07:09:30 EDT

You know, we all make fun of Vanilla Ice, but let me ask you something... when you hear those opening bass/cymbal notes from Queen's 'Under Pressure' without thinking of the lyrics to 'Ice Ice Baby'? Hrmm? Can you still, years later, recite EVERY STINKING WORD of that song when you hear the music start to play? Hrmm? That, my friends, is power. It is an evil, Emporer Palpitine style power, but power nonetheless.

All right stop, collaborate and listen Ice is back with a brand new invention something, grabs ahold of me tightly flowing like a harpoon, daily and nightly will it ever stop, yo, I don't know turn out the light, and I'll glow to the extreme I rock the mike like a vandal light up the stage and wax these chumps like a candle dance, bum rush the speakers that boom i'm killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom...

From memory, and I could probably keep going. I'm not proud. Or tired...

Fire!

jer_ — Tue, 10 May 2005 06:52:02 EDT

My friend Chuck will be playing with fire for cancer (umm... for donations for cancer research, not IN EXCHANGE for cancer). Read more right over here...

Nintendo... How Could You?

jer_ — Tue, 10 May 2005 05:36:22 EDT

Well, I think every kid wants a Nintendo DS, at least those who don't want a PSP.... but with games like this... I guess I'll stick with Sony's offering.

I'm SOOO close

jer_ — Tue, 10 May 2005 05:01:14 EDT

Okay, don't give me the answer, but I am SOOO close to solving this aptitude test here. It's pretty cool. Conversely, this paper might be the dumbest thing I've ever seen... but funny. :)

Photos

jer_ — Mon, 09 May 2005 00:11:54 EDT

Okay, new pictures from birthday day... just a couple... nothing special... umm... yeah. That's it. Nothing more to see here. So go away. Stop reading. Stalker. You can't stop, can you. Weird...

Happy Birthday to Cody

jer_ — Sun, 08 May 2005 17:10:30 EDT

Well, it's Cody's 8th birthday. I expect a great many calls to wish him a happy birthday. Or you will suffer... :)

Movies

jer_ — Sun, 08 May 2005 09:00:57 EDT

Well, the kids and I (along with Ray, Michelle, and Kayla), went to see a couple of movies at the drive-in movie theater tonight. We saw The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and The Pacifier. First, The Hitchhiker's Guide. Now, I went into this assuming that it wouldn't be just like the book. I also assumed that some plot elements would need to be changed to abbreviate the movie some. Basically, as big a fan of the book(s) as I am, I assumed I'd hate this movie. The good news? I didn't hate it, per se, but I think they could have done a better job overall. First, let me talk about what they did right: Martin Freeman was a PERFECT Arthur Dent. He played him as intelligent, but in a constantly flustered state throughout the movie VERY well. Mos Def, despite my strong opinions on the subject of a black Ford Prefect, was a very, very well played Ford. His lines were delivered brilliantly, and he was very, from a personality standpoint, true to the book. Pretty much all of the acting was great; Zooey Deschanel was a great Tricia McMillan/Trillian, Alan Rickman was the perfect voice for Marvin, and Sam Rockwell's Zaphod Beeblebrox was pretty darn good (despite the southern accent and the two head issue. I really enjoyed that, much like every other version of this work, it was NOT the same as previous works. Specifically, the books differed from the original radio shows, which differed from later radio shows, which differed from the BBC series, which was not the same as the 1981 move... none of which is the same as the video game. And now, collectively, they're all not exactly the same as the current movie. In all... a great, funny flick. My problems? There were a couple of things VERY well described in the book. The ship, the heart of gold, was described as resembling a shoe...what kind of freaky-assed shoe is this? C'mon here. Also, Zaphod is clearly described as having two heads, side by side (they look at each other, etc)... and a third arm directly below one of his other (I believe his right) arms. So why was one head on his NECK and the damned third arm in his chest? Annoying. Those are my only real complaints. If you're into the books... see the movie. If you're not... you might still like it very much. Oh, and The Pacifier is an excellent movie to see with your kids. My son was INTO it...and it's pretty cute overall.

New Email Host

jer_ — Sat, 07 May 2005 17:17:12 EDT

Well, first it was Hotmail, then that became passe (screw accent marks). Next Yahoo was the big thing. Google then came along with Gmail, with its 'Infinity + 1' storage system. Now, email has come the next logical step... GGG-Gmail... that's right, email for gangstas... To quote the site:

GGG-Gmail is an experiment in a new kind of webmail, built on the idea that you should never have to put up with any wack-ass shit in your inbox.

My favorite feature? Messages are grouped with replies and such in conversations called 'G-Units'... hehe :)

Firefox Ads?

jer_ — Sat, 07 May 2005 17:06:00 EDT

I was not aware of this phenomenon... but apparently Firefox has advertisements? I don't know where these are gonna air, or even if they're going to, but they're pretty funny... well, 2 out of three are kinda funny. Here they are, checkout 'the mobile'... it's my favorite. Unfamiliar with Firefox? It's mozilla's newest entry into the browser world. It's faster than IE, has built in pop up/ad blocking software, it's more secure, has support for RSS built in... so if you're still using IE, get it... NOW! :)

My New Avatar

jer_ — Fri, 06 May 2005 11:47:18 EDT

It's Southpark Jer... courtesy ofthese good folks.

Dumbass

jer_ — Fri, 06 May 2005 11:33:23 EDT

Yes... it is 4:30 in the morning and I'm online. Why? Because, at 3:30, I got up, started getting dressed for work, got the kids up, they got dressed... got packed... got ready... then we notice that it is a full TWO HOURS earlier than we get up. Why? Cause I'm an idiot.

New Neurotically Yours

jer_ — Fri, 06 May 2005 06:13:39 EDT

Yes, there is a new Neurotically Yours entitled 'A Pair of Pants'. Not outstanding, but pretty funny: 'Where are you Richard, I cannot find you now, I want to talk to Richard... RICHARD!'

Told Ya Girls are Evil...

jer_ — Fri, 06 May 2005 06:02:11 EDT

Nuff Said

Great Day.

jer_ — Fri, 06 May 2005 04:42:05 EDT

Wow, since I started getting into this journaling/praying/not being a prick routine... I've been having some seriously good days. I dunno, strange. At any rate, I think I've found the solution to the not dating thing, I'll get an imaginary girlfriend who can just PRETEND to be dating me, and be done with it. Seems easier, overall. I'm finishing up day 5 of not smoking, and it's surprisingly easy. I owe it all to sunflower seeds. I think people could kick HEROIN with enough sunflower seeds. I do need to find the unsalted, in-shell ones though, the salted ones, although they taste good, are making a MESS of my poor mouth. Also, I couldn't stand the irony of quitting smoking and dying of excessive salt. Stupid Semagic... it gives me a word and character count as I post, so I get to see my word count occasionally, was just at 150, and I keep thinking, that's not enough, type more... I'm done... Peace.

Disturbing Image of the Day

jer_ — Wed, 04 May 2005 14:02:38 EDT

Mr. Panda, NOOOOOOoooooooo! Just something to start or end your day with... :)

Smoking Update

jer_ — Wed, 04 May 2005 06:18:18 EDT

Oh, it just occurred to me, three days now and still, no smoking. I've gone through six packs of Orbit gum, two packs of Winterfresh (which tastes like turpentine), and three ghetto bags of sunflower seeds... heartburn is killing me, but no smoking. Be proud of me. Now clap!

Cliff Notes

jer_ — Wed, 04 May 2005 06:04:33 EDT

Well, has posted the first two chapters of A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking in her own, abbreviated format, right here. Hilarious...

The Universe: *exists*

Prehistoric Mankind: *exists also*

The Universe: *is very mysterious*

Slightly Less Prehistoric Mankind: OMG! Lights in the sky! WTF is up with that?

The Universe: *grins mysteriously*

%$^#% You Hardees

jer_ — Wed, 04 May 2005 02:42:04 EDT

Oh yeah, Hardees, you thought you were bad with your Monster Thickburger... 1400 calories, 2/3lb of beef. Well make way for the Beer Barrel Belly Buster from Denny's Beer Barrel Pub in Clearfield, PA. That's right, a 15 pound burger... I cannot imagine how many calories would go into this monstrosity. Oh, as a side note, listening to D&D on the radio this afternoon, I found that it's only about 10.5 lbs of beef, the rest of the weight is in the bun and 'fixins'. How disappointing.

Hail?

jer_ — Wed, 04 May 2005 02:28:29 EDT

Okay, so, when I left for work this morning, I did what I always do. I checked the weather. Today's was: High of 54, light winds. 20% chance of showers in the afternoon. Partly cloudy. Today, while putting up siding, I was hailed on. Yes, frickin hail. Pretty darn big hail too. For the uninitiated that is FROZEN FRICKIN RAIN! Yeah, it stings a bit, makes it harder to put up siding... and was NOT supposed to happen. There should really be some form of malpractice that one can file suit against for just such occasions. On a completely unrelated note... I'm still apparently unable to update the other web site that I'm supposed to be updating. I'm REALLY close to starting a new version with a new domain name (www.western-wayne-na.org maybe?) and be done with these people. The folks that know what they're doing aren't allowed to help me, because it would offend the tards that DON'T know what they're doing. It's frustrating and I've about had it. If this isn't resolved by the 15th of May... I'm either dropping the job or transferring it to be entirely my responsibility...

Pain and Suffering in Detroit

jer_ — Tue, 03 May 2005 01:36:52 EDT

Yeah, I'm in pain. I don't know if anyone here has any experience with a bad back, but it's not a lot of fun. There are days that you wake up and you just know that if you aren't careful, your back is going out... end of story... Today was one of those days, and I wasn't nearly careful enough. On a 2 and a half story roof, right next to the edge, is NOT the time to have your back spasm and go out... but I guess you don't really have a choice. Bummer. Hopefully, it'll feel better by work tomorrow, I can't really afford the time off and I really wanna get the siding job done ASAP. In other news, I've been doing my updates via Semagic 1.5 and it is making me happy. To begin with, my updater is always right there in my task bar... second, it automagically does a GOOD spell check (not like LJs) and detects what music I'm listening to. I like the functionality. If you're a frequent LJ updater, I think this is a good piece of software for you... Have I whined about my back yet? Oh, I did, my bad. My back hurts. Alot.

Smoking

jer_ — Mon, 02 May 2005 06:48:15 EDT

Well, I have always said that when smoking actually had an impact on me, I was done. It never really affected anything I cared about... until this last week or two. In the last two weeks... I've had an enormous amount of difficulty breathing in general, and I've had a persistent dryish cough for about a month or two now.... it's time for cigs to go. At this point, it's been about 24 hours since I smoked. I'm not a fun person when I don't smoke. My kids are already used to the 'dad isn't smoking crankiness', from times when I was too broke to smoke. Gum and sunflower seeds will, with any luck, help the oral fixation without the requisite massive weight gain. We shall see. Expect reports frequently about how much quitting smoking either sucks or does not suck. Watched Troy today. It was pretty darn good. A bit longer than was necessary, but very entertaining. I'm beginning to think that Brad Pitt can actually act. Strange. Orlando Bloom and the Incredible Hulk were also both very, very good. Funny story... the coworker that was describing this movie to me was telling me all about it then, when he gets near the end says 'but I don't wanna ruin the ending for ya'. I explained that I was pretty familiar with the story and he said 'ahh, right, from the bible' and proceeded to plow on. Scary. But, hey, if some people can worship out of the King James Bible, who says he can't worship out of Homer's works? Eh? Just downloaded 10th episode of Robot Chicken. Gonna watch it and go to bed. Peace. ED: I just noticed how much the first couple of paragraphs sounded like 'a very special episode of The Facts of Life' or something. You have my sincerest apologies... I certainly have no intentions of ever again sounding like a bad after school special... or even a good one. Plus, the fat one was really annoying... Twinkie?

Time Traveler's Convention

jer_ — Mon, 02 May 2005 05:21:03 EDT
Leave it to those wacky kids at MIT to come up with the most brilliantly simple plan available to prove time travel... Throw a party! On May 7th at 10PM starts the only annual Time Traveler Convention. Only annual? Well yes, if you can travel through time, you need only one, right? I want to have gone sometime in the future...or something like that. It's so ingenious, it makes me feel like just inside the door there will be a carrot on the floor, a box propped on a stick and an MIT nerd at the end of a string giggling maniacally.

Open Talk

jer_ — Sat, 30 Apr 2005 20:41:10 EDT
Well, I did my open talk at a treatment center today, and it went very well, if I do say so myself. I hate public speaking, but this went very smoothly, and I'm pretty confident that I did a pretty good job. All this, and I have the added benefit of feeling like I gave something back. Good stuff. Now I need a nap, and all that.

Quickies

jer_ — Sat, 30 Apr 2005 08:09:40 EDT
Some quick, amusing things... Ever wondered what it would be like if President Bush sang 'Imagine' and 'Walk on the Wild Side'? Wonder no more... Want to beat up on someone to relieve your frustrations? Beat the crap out of Buddy. You can re-skin buddy in a number of flavors, and beat on him with a wide range of weaponry. Welp, off to bed, g'nite all...

Movie: Saw

jer_ — Sat, 30 Apr 2005 07:35:59 EDT
Just saw Saw tonight, and I thought it was great. The acting was a bit bad (okay, terrible) at times, but the story line was good enough that it didn't bother me at all... and that normally KILLS a movie for me. I loved Se7en, and I think this was probably better than that. Very good movie.... I give it 4 Kevin Smiths out of 5.

Batman Begins Trailer

jer_ — Fri, 29 Apr 2005 07:06:49 EDT
Well, there's a full length Batman Begins trailer available now. It looks great, like they finally got it right again, after so many crappy, crappy versions. Christian Bale looks like a really good early Bruce Wayne and a really good Batman... and Katie Holmes... we like her :)

Site Updates

jer_ — Fri, 29 Apr 2005 05:00:57 EDT
Okay, I've done some site tweaking. Nothing all that impressive, but little things that I've been not doing because I'm lazy/busy/whatever.

I added titles to the links on the menu to the left, so if you hover your mouse over the links, neat things happen. Groovy.

I've got a nifty little favicon now. So, in your location bar, there should be a little 'jer' (man, that sounds dirty doesn't it?), and when you bookmark this place (and yes, you WILL bookmark this place), there'll be nifty icon.

I've cleaned up some links and stuff. Oh, and I added my friend Chuck... I suggest you check it out, he's a great guy with a strange, dry wit. It amuses me to no end... between him and Nick, they can cause me to choke nearly to death on any beverage at any time... much fun.

I figure, if I can't edit the site I'm supposed to, I can play on mine. Weeee! As a side note, I'm looking at changing hosts. I don't really know to whom, so if any of the peeps that read this have any thoughts, let me know. I want to change so I can use WordPress instead of LiveJournal, which I use now. I have no complaints with LJ, in fact, I like it a great deal over all, but I'm a tinkerer. I like jerking with things, and I want more control over every aspect of the content. I want categories for my posts. I want to be able to give others access to post here. I want, I want, I want. Speaking of people that read this site: I pretty much thought it was me, possibly my Mom and Dad (for kids pics), and Nick, but... I'm averaging 82 visitors per day since my site redesign... about, I dunno, 80 more per day than I thought. Also, I figured most that showed would just check on pics and leave... but 66% are merely reading the blog part and never moving on to pics. Strange.... the top domains are: inktomisearch.com (huh? strange, and at 30.3%) comcast.net (9.2% prolly me, nick, and half the US) unresolved (7.5%) aol.com (5.3% this has to be Terra) rr.com (2.5% I think my parents are here) Here's the disturbing fact of the day... three of the top 10 searches that present my web site are 'tickling', 'tickling kids', and 'wife playing'.... spooky people out there... 'tickling kids'... sickos. I assume. Probably. Oh well, that was fun. And long. Like John Holmes. Peace.

Music News! Bite the Ghost that Feeds

jer_ — Fri, 29 Apr 2005 03:35:33 EDT
I guess to get the full benefit of this little gem, you would have to be familiar with both the Ghostbusters theme (who isn't), and the new Nine Inch Nails song 'Bite the Hand that Feeds'. This is what happens when the two songs are overlaying one another... and it really kinds jams.

Happy Slapping?

jer_ — Fri, 29 Apr 2005 03:25:57 EDT
Have you heard about this crap? Apparently, some kids in the UK have found this entertaining little game called happy slapping (video found here too) where one of the little cretins slaps a friend out of nowhere; or, more recently, randomly cold-cocks a random person. For once, it's not the US that started some violent new trend. See, it's not first person shooters or what have you... it's that teenagers are assholes (I know, I am still mentally a teenager, and I'm still an asshole).

Two Great Things That Taste Great Together

jer_ — Fri, 29 Apr 2005 02:19:26 EDT
Kevin Smith and Star Wars. What could be cooler? Kevin Smith reviewing Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith? Yes. Oh, mad spoilers.... Anakin becomes Darth Vader. There, I ruined the ending, suck it up.

Tired

jer_ — Thu, 28 Apr 2005 13:51:44 EDT
Well, getting ready to start another day. Unfortunately, I've proven myself immaturely incapable of going to sleep at anything resembling a reasonable time, so I'm whooped. There is nothing quite as exhilarating as balancing precariously on a ladder while hanging siding and nodding off like a junkie on a huge pack. That was inappropriate. I watched the new episode of Family Guy last night (yes, new episodes... mmmmmm), and it was hilarious. Nothing was lost by the multi-year hiatus. Oh, and I'm going to have to post the email trail for this stupid web site that I'm supposed to manage, because it is getting absolutely ridiculous. Like, I can see this Lisa chick pitching a fit and making an ass of herself, but I'm powerless to point out how embarrassed she's going to be if she ever grows up. That used to be (and probably at times still is) me. Well, off to work. Peace.

Present?

jer_ — Wed, 27 Apr 2005 07:14:33 EDT
Oops, as Nick pointed out, the hard drive that I had linked to in my earlier complaint was a SATA, not PATA. I need PATA, so if you are going to buy me one, buy me this. My birthday's coming up. Umm.. father's day? Cinco de Mayo? (is it really spelled like mayo?) The Ides of March? Whatever... buy the poor nerd stuff. :)

New Foamy

jer_ — Wed, 27 Apr 2005 06:05:48 EDT
YEAH! There's a new Neurotically Yours episode on Ill Will Press. It contains the greatest description of the Smurfs ever: 'Fuck those little blue bastards. They look like a town of deformed fetuses that were suffocated and tossed into a mushroom patch.' If you haven't seen these... watch them, you will not be disappointed. Don't watch them at work though... loud.. and foul language abounds. These are crazy times, Mr. Hatter... crazy like Buddha.

Coordination

jer_ — Wed, 27 Apr 2005 05:48:43 EDT
Silly Jer, hammers are for nails. My thumb is killing me. I admit, it's rather cliched to smash one's thumb with a hammer, but, hey, I'm nothing if unoriginal. I first smashed it about a week ago, as something fell into my eye on the back swing and I decided to go ahead and swing blind... as it turns out, that was a bad idea. Well, yesterday, I smoked it again, as the chisel I was holding moved suddenly. The hammer was relentless. I think I might have done some degree of damage to a tendon, because movement of the thumb infrequently presents minor problems... such as my thumb's steadfast refusal to do precisely what I intend, which has resulted in numerous dropped objects and one poked eye (don't ask). The newly adopted web dev. position I've taken on is apparently going to be a problem from sources I couldn't have imagined. It has been a month plus long project just to get the contact information from the previous web dev dude for the site maintainers. Now that I've gotten ahold of them, it has been a week long process to get FTP access to the server so I can upload the updates. But wait, how did they expect me to update the site, you might ask? Well, apparently, the only thing they know how to do is design a page in Front Page (GACK) and click 'Update' when they're done. Or 'Publish', or whatever MS calls it today. It is such fun. I mean, I don't plan on even having Windows on this PC for much longer if I can get the time to start loading up a new linux distro... and if I can decide which I wish to play with. No frontpage for linux, eh? Blergh. Peons. Oh, if you're into Lord of the Rings, this will probably make you laugh until you cry as it did me. Ringwraith no. 5's diary is one of my faves. Umm, dunno, about 10 more minutes of web surfing, then off to bed. Peace.

A bit closer to home that I'd like to admit...

jer_ — Wed, 27 Apr 2005 05:18:00 EDT

Which File Extension are You?

God is Great (by jwz)

jer_ — Tue, 26 Apr 2005 06:15:38 EDT
According to jwz, God is Great (and by that he means really really large). Oh, and he backs it up with math. You can't argue with math. Jesus was a fat ass apparently.

Photoshop

jer_ — Mon, 25 Apr 2005 05:56:28 EDT
This is why I'm always nervous about having my picture on the internet...

F U Weatherman!

jer_ — Sun, 24 Apr 2005 21:10:06 EDT
On Wednesday, it was 84 degrees outside. I was sweating gallons at work. Yesterday, it was snow and rain mixed. Today, it's about 30 degrees, and there are several inches of snow just chillin' in the yard. To say that I am mildly displeased with the weather would be an understatement of monumental proportions. Thanks to Nick, I was reminded of a show that I used to LOVE but hadn't seen in many years... The State. It used to be on MTV, and they're having a heck of a time getting those episodes released on DVD, so I downloaded what I could find of seasons 1 through 3... the quality sucks and there are many missing episodes... but damn it is funny... I highly recommend it. Now I'm on a search for .torrents of the Kids in the Hall DVD (season 1) and other episodes in decent quality. Of course, prior to that, I need a new hard drive since my existing one is almost completely full (I have around 100MB free... yes, 100MB... no, I don't know how Win2K is still running). You can't beat the price... and with free shipping... but I'm poor... :) At any rate... that's it for the moment. Off to watch Glengarry Glen Ross then pick up the kids.

Humor shorts

jer_ — Sat, 23 Apr 2005 05:19:37 EDT
Okay, just, real rapid fire, some funny stuff I've found... First, if anyone wants to buy me something... this should be it. Every single day, I see at least a half dozen places that these bumper stickers belong. At least half of those are on my car... As soon as my son and daughter are old enough for 'the talk', you can bet that Cody will be sent here, and Amber will be sent here. I mean, I take my responsibility to ruin my children's psyche very, very seriously... I don't know what the real story on these supposedly real incoming pizza calls, but they are hilarious, real or not... Too funny. Umm, that should do it, for the moment.

Much updating

jer_ — Sat, 23 Apr 2005 05:00:41 EDT
Okay, time to play catchup from LAST weekend. First, the convention was a GREAT time. In addition to hearing some GREAT speakers (and some not so great), the trip itself was a blast. Benji's Sunday morning talk was outstanding. I have probably heard four or five of his talks on CD or in person, and this was BY FAR the best I've heard. A description of the trip... or a highlight film if you will, is to follow, but there are a couple of pictures over here to amuse yourself with. We were scheduled to leave at 7PM from my place on Thursday. Needless to say, after grabbing food, frames for Mike, etc, we were actually on the highway at 9 PM. Now, I'm not sure what time Bob got up, but Dan and I had each gotten up at about 5AM, so we were STARTING tired. What followed could best be described as the never ending roadtrip from hell. We finished our 9 hour drive to Manhattan at about 11AM (yes, 14 hours). Part of the problem was that we had to stop about once an hour or two for a smoke. Also, we were broke. I mean dead poor. We were concerned that we might have to sell Bob off to be sodomized by truckers in order to finance our little trip. So we got to Mike's, took a four hour nap, and got back on the road to drive the four hours to Ocean City (which took 6 hours). By this time, we were somewhere between crabby and so slap-happy that the most minor thing was funny. We spent the weekend, much fun was had by all, then made the long, painful trip back to Detroit... laughing all the way. If I can find a way to transfer recordings from my Nextel phone to a .wav file, there are some hilarious recordings of Dan freaking out about the ridiculous toll situation to be heard. All in all, good time... and Mike better send the pics he took too :P
The kids got their report cards Wednesday... improvement all around. I'm very, very pleased with both cards. I don't have a single complaint. They've improved in the areas that we discussed, they haven't regressed anywhere else... everything is wonderful. Tomorrow night, their mom is taking them for the night again. I'm more than a little frightened as to what will go on, but I can't see saying no when she's finally trying to see her kids. I just hope she continues to do the right things, and doesn't go back to her old ways of acting, dumping them off with random people and dragging them around at all hours of the night, etc. Hopefully, since she only bothers to try to see them two evenings per month, she'll make those two count.

Update?

jer_ — Tue, 19 Apr 2005 05:19:16 EDT
Nope, not tonight. Too late, too much going on, too tired... insert generic excuse here...

I'm home

jer_ — Mon, 18 Apr 2005 10:24:42 EDT
Well, it's very late, so as much as I'd like to detail how great the convention was this weekend, that'll have to wait for a while. I'll probably get to it tomorrow night some time. Suffice to say, it was a GREAT time, and there are even some pictures. More pictures later if Mike sends me the ones he took.

Work

jer_ — Wed, 13 Apr 2005 03:46:46 EDT
Well, I finally got a job. Not in the computer industry yet, apparently not having a degree was no problem while I was IN the industry, but now it's an issue. At any rate, I'm doing roofing and residential remodel work again, and I am SORE. I've been laid off too long. Roofing is fun, when you have a morbid fear of heights. On your average roof, this isn't a big deal... you know, a roof with a walkable pitch (not too steep to walk up and down), not alot of narrow stretches, etc. This roof SUCKS. See below:
Forgive my lack of artistic ability. As you can see, a significant portion of this roof is FAR from fun. Ah well, I managed to do it, and, more importantly, didn't fall off. Life is good. I'm excited about this weekend. Should be a good time. I'm too tired to type more, so I'm gonna watch a movie and go to bed.

A Riddle...

jer_ — Mon, 11 Apr 2005 05:34:00 EDT
What do you get when you let a 6 and 7 year old choose their own haircuts? Bright red streaks and a mohawk. All in all, I like the new hair-dos quite a bit. More pics of this coming to be in the pics section.

Catch up

jer_ — Fri, 08 Apr 2005 17:14:59 EDT
Well, my internet connection was down yesterday, so here's some catchup... Let me begin with the funniest thing I've seen in quite some time. Steve will eat virtually anything to give us common mortals a full report about texture, taste, physical effects, etc. Tears were streaming down my face... if you can only read one... scroll down to the last one, Volume 7, Cuitlacoche. Should be safe for work methinks... unless work is cracking down on corn smut. Who knew that Bill Gates posed for Tiger Beat magazine. These are safe for work, but that makes them no less disturbing. Also, the movie and music industry in Europe wants ISPs and users to give up their privacy rights. This would be funny i they weren't serious about it. I will have some pictures posted of my face, morphed as soon as their server is up for saving... they're pretty funny though. Well, there's probably more, but that should do it for now. Only one week until the convention... woohoo.

They F*** You at the Drive-thru

jer_ — Wed, 06 Apr 2005 15:12:30 EDT
Okay, surely we've all been to a fast food restaurant and had them badly butcher our order at the drive-thru. I mean, what is so hard... we order by number for the most part any more... just give me my number 4 meal you sadistic bastard!!! But never, in my life, have I ever considered calling 911 about the abysmal customer service. It's just too funny. QOTD: 'Is this, like, a harmful cheeseburger or something?'

Spanglish - a pseudo-review

jer_ — Wed, 06 Apr 2005 08:00:56 EDT
Okay, I'm not exactly the movie review guy here, I'm sure there are plenty of other journals for exactly that, but to the three people in the world that read this thing... GO WATCH SPANGLISH NOW! I don't care if you think Adam Sandler is the biggest tool on the face of the earth. I don't care if you hated everything he's ever done (however, if you hate Punch Drunk Love, you should be killed), watch this movie. To begin with, the acting in this movie was absolutely brilliant. Tea Leoni (screw her frou frou accent mark) was wonderful as usual, and Adam Sandler played a part unlike anything I've seen him in before. Picture just the sappy, sensitive part at the end of 'Big Daddy', without the overacting, and with a good script. Yeah, that good. But this Paz Vega chick, she absolutely stole the show. I mean, not only is she unbelievably hot, but apparently, she's been in every movie ever made in Mexico. The story was a really enjoyable, unique variation on the old boy-meets-girl-who-don't-speak-english, and the ending is just what it needed to be. All in all, I can't find one complaint with this movie (although, at just over 2 hours, length could have been an issue). All of the acting was superb, the cinematography was first rate, and the script was very well done. Blah blah blah, insert movie review sounding stuff here, blah blah. To tell you how much I like it, my broke, cheap ass is buying it on DVD... as should each and every one of you.

Ego vs Fear

jer_ — Wed, 06 Apr 2005 06:53:14 EDT
You know those irrational fears you get that, although you know they're completely off base, they still terrify you all the same. I have a few of those. I am not a fan of heights, I'm less a fan of enclosed spaces. Spiders and stinging insects don't make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. But none of these... nothing else... can completely compare with my dread of public speaking. Public speaking fills me with the sense of dread that can only be compared with being caught in the shower in prison by a large man named Bubba in search of a new 'wife'... and I look like the marrying kind. That having been said, imagine my extreme pleasure when I received a phone call saying that I'm supposed to speak at one of my meetings on May 17th. Not just any meeting, but a big loud one. Fun. I'm not sure how I feel about it, to be honest. I mean, I truly don't want to do it... but my natural hubris keeps saying, 'Of course, you'll do brilliantly. Nothing to fear.' Ahh, the fun that occurs when my ego and my fears collide. *Sigh* I'll have to make a decision by tomorrow... but I think I'm going to say yes... and I think that I already know that I'm going to say yes... and I think I'm just being girlie now. *crash*

Starbucks Delocator

jer_ — Tue, 05 Apr 2005 19:56:42 EDT
For the caffeine addicted, the Starbucks Delocator is a site designed to help you find non-corporate coffee shops... so you can stop overpaying for your non-fat, half-caf, mocha latte. They won't use the name Starbucks Delocator, for fear of getting beaten down by the corporate machine... so there is a Google campaign to get people to link to it by its real name, thus making it show up when 'Starbucks' or Starbucks Delocator are searched for.

Penguicon

jer_ — Tue, 05 Apr 2005 18:17:30 EDT
Okay, call me absurdly geeky, but I'm really looking forward to Penguicon, a Linux and Sci-Fi convention here in Detroit. It's only $40 to pre register (by April 8th). It's taking place April 22-24 at the Detroit Sheraton Hotel in Novi. The only crappy part is, I'm going to a different convention on the 15-17th, so I will not be able to make both probably. For one, that's a lotta money for a broken soul like myself... and two, at some point this month I should be able to spend a weekend with my kids. Oh well, I'm sure someone I know will end up there, and give me a full report.

Photograph Update

jer_ — Mon, 04 Apr 2005 21:29:55 EDT
Well, this isn't all that exciting an update.. just one picture. You can either browse to it via the menus, or just click here and see it. It's just a picture of the kids with their mom at the start of their long awaited visit.

Shockingly Good Game!

jer_ — Mon, 04 Apr 2005 07:03:37 EDT
It was a matter of time. There was a sci-fi book I read once, whose name escapes me, about a game that electrocutes you when you get killed. Apparently, today, this is a reality. This brings to mind so many concerns... what about when this gets hacked, and believe me, it will? It just seems like a pretty bad idea... that having been said, I really want to play it. Oh, and I realize that the title pun sucks, but bite me, it's the best I had... and it HAD to be said.

Shave and a haircut

jer_ — Mon, 04 Apr 2005 06:34:41 EDT
Well, overall, I am not too terribly unimpressed with the job my ex did in taking care of the kids Friday night. I mean, from what I understand, she allowed them to play down by the creek supervised only by some eleven year old... but, hey, I have done much more unintelligent stuff than that, right? Oh, and she dropped them off at the birthday party they were to be attending, from which I was going to pick them up, then took off... kinda the opposite of what we had decided, but who am I to quibble, right? But what gets me; what really sticks in my craw (yeah, I said it), is she cut Amber's hair. Now, this sounds pretty minor, I'm sure, but let me vent for a minute here. Some background: Amber and I have been trying to grow her freakin bangs out for around a year now. 'But Jer', I can hear you ask, 'surely it doesn't take a year to grow out bangs, does it?' You wouldn't think so, gentle reader, you wouldn't think so. Of course, it really slows things down when people CUT HER FREAKIN BANGS OFF! So far, my ex started the trend when, about this time last year, when she watched the kids, she lopped off most of her bangs. It was then that we discussed how much we liked Amber with bangs, and how we'd let her grow them out. Then, a friend babysits Amber about six months back and, without checking with anyone, gets the bangs cut professionally... and has the BALLS to say 'don't worry about paying me for the haircut, it was my treat.' Are you bloody kidding me? I mean, would YOU babysit a kid, get his/her hair cut without checking with the parent... then believe that they might have been thinking about PAYING YOU? I wanted to bash her head in with a tire iron, and she's talking about reimbursement? Next, about three months ago, Amber's aunt does it too! Are you sensing a trend? Anyone? Now, I'm not really upset with the aunt. A) she didn't know. B) Amber didn't tell her C) she's used to being the only one to do these things, from when my ex had custody. We discussed it, the hair cuts stopped. Now Amber comes home with freshly chopped hair, again. Oh, when I say chopped, that's not merely a nifty colloquial way of saying cut... I mean FRIGGIN CHOPPED; uneven, looks bad, isn't even CLOSE to nicely done. I'm a tard and I coulda done it better with garden sheers and a blindfold. Of course, I'm just bitter... but c'mon here. You stay out of the kids' lives for like, 5 months, then show up and ruin her hair? Why don't you feed em rotten meat and tell them that Santa doesn't exist, huh? Poke out an eye? Sacrifice a cat in a pagan ritual? Okay, for the record, even I understand that the examples used in the preceding paragraph are a TAD over the top, but I think I made my point... I'm mildly perturbed here. I'm thinking about saying screw it... giving Amber a nice, short hairstyle that will make my life easier, and telling everyone to leave her damned hair alone. Maybe throw a Sinead O'Connor down on her.

Hey Crackhead

jer_ — Sat, 02 Apr 2005 22:21:41 EST
I found this letter to an anonymous crackhead and couldn't stop laughing. Leave it to an engineer, eh? That does bring to mind the pertinent question... why do crackheads never have their stem? Strange. A great read though. And speaking of crackheads... this site must have been made by an enormous crackhead. But an enormously funny one too.. :) Yes, it is furniture porn.

Baby Mama Drama

jer_ — Sat, 02 Apr 2005 21:36:20 EST
Well, she ended up getting the kids last night. It took alot of struggle and a bit of a pain in the butt, but she ended up doing what was needed. I mean, I didn't think knowing her address and stuff so I'd know where the kids were staying was unreasonable, and I guess, in the end, she didn't think so either.. ultimately. Now I'm just hoping she can do the right thing, and take good care of them for a night. For me, this is kind of a trial run for future visits. This will be the litmus test. All the same, I'm still awfully scared of the outcome. On the plus side, I've gotten no calls so far saying they're hospitalized or abandoned, so that's a good sign. I go pick them up in a couple of hours, so we'll see.

April Fools!

jer_ — Fri, 01 Apr 2005 15:34:03 EST
Here's the part of the blog where I'm supposed to post some elaborate April Fools prank, and let you in on the joke tomorrow... but I'm generically bored with that particular cliche... or just too lazy to be bothered... so instead, I've just found this collection of the top 100 April Fools Hoaxes of all time. Some I've never heard of, some are classic... many are pretty darn funny. Call this a pathetic substitute for a real joke.

SKANK!

jer_ — Fri, 01 Apr 2005 05:30:59 EST
Well, she did it again folks. First, my ex, Becca, was supposed to call today to set up her visit with the kids (her first time seeing them since Thanksgiving). Needless to say, she must have found something more important to do… or should I say someone, since that seems to be what interferes most of the time… her incessant need to lie on her back under a new and interesting guy. When I say interesting, I mean drug addicted and abusive.

Also, she finally squared it away so that I could go and pick up the kids stuff from her storage; or should I say the stuff that wasn't covered in piss or chewed on by mice. Yes, nearly everything in the storage unit was destroyed… I wish I had brought my digital camera to take a photograph of this travesty.

For starters, when I opened the unit, it was clear that it was loaded up by dump truck apparently. The solid cherry dining room furniture that I had just bought prior to our seperation that she wanted so bad and got in the divorce? Trashed. The kids were pretty devastated. Amber's favorite stuffed animals? Trash. Their old beds? Trash. Pretty much you name it? Trash. Becca? Trash.

I know, I know, I'm supposed to be loving, caring, or whatever. Blah blah friggin blah. That's really easy to do when she's jerking me around… but we're talking about 6 and 7 year old children here. They shouldn't have to deal with this. Of course, this will, as usual, be all my fault by the end. Just like the reason she hasn't seen her kids in months isn't cause she's a coked out whore… it's because 'I'm being controlling'. It's not because her pursuit of crack and men led her to dump the children with random people in random places MORE THAN ONCE, it's because I'm an ass for preventing her from doing it AGAIN.

Bleh, I'm just venting now. Lemme find something funny to make me feel better.

So tired

jer_ — Thu, 31 Mar 2005 07:50:48 EST
Okay, I'm absolutely beat. I've been out of work since, roughly, 1902, so needless to say, I'm a tad out of shape… when I say tad, I mean 'a tremendous amount'… So doing this roof the last two days has torn me up mightily; and I love it! It is nice to feel productive. To do a job I'm good at, get stuff done, and be tired at the end of the day because I worked hard… not because I over-napped.

For some reason, the previous post is all messed up… I don't think I've figured out the edit post thing quite properly. I thought that when I emailed in an update to the post, it would APPEND it, but apparently not. I'm too tired to figure out where my first taking of the below test went tonight, but I'll take a peek tomorrow probably. The difference in scores is amusing… I took it the first time (and scored pretty darn well I think)… I was showing someone else, and I *THINK* I answered pretty much every answer the exact same, and my score SKYROCKETED. In reading the site a bit more, I find that the test creator made some edits to the scoring of the test in between my takings… so, at this rate, if I take it again on Monday, I should be 100% across the board. Of course, all of this is meaningless without the ability to see both scores so, we'll see.

In other news, my ex is finally going to make the effort to see our kids. I'm so excited for them. From the sounds of it (and I could be wrong, I have been once or twice before), she seems to be doing alot better. I think she might be off the crack and trying to clean up… but again, she doesn't respond honestly to me pretty much ever, so there's no way of knowing; I just think it's great that the kids will see their mom again. She's agreed to take a drug test and, pending her 'passing' said drug test, she'll get the kids overnight Friday night. Of course, she's been saying for the past month that she 'never was on crack, she just said she was because it was easier'. I don't know what that means, but, whatever. She's clean (hopefully) now, and that's what matters. I'm very nervous, and very apprehensive; but I've been praying about it, and all I can do is hope that she won't dump the kids off with someone again, or put them in harms way, or drag them to the Alano for the whole visit again. *crosses fingers*

Well, that's all I got at the moment. G'nite.

Grammar

jer_ — Tue, 29 Mar 2005 07:32:16 EST

English Genius
You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 100% Advanced, and 94% Expert!

You did so extremely well, even I

can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon

intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You

have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly!

Way to go!

Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it!

For the complete Answer Key, visit my blog: http://shortredhead78.blogspot.com/.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
You scored higher than 68% on Beginner
You scored higher than 73% on Intermediate
You scored higher than 84% on Advanced
You scored higher than 98% on Expert

Link: The Commonly Confused Words Test written by shortredhead78 on Ok Cupid

Lego Mindstorms Rock

jer_ — Mon, 28 Mar 2005 20:50:22 EST
I thought that this article about a Lego Mindstorm hack allowing the mini robots to reproduce and evolve was bigtime cool. Of course, that just means that it is a matter of time before every state south of the Mason-Dixon line bans them as 'anti-religious'. No legos in our schools… For those who are unfamiliar with Lego Mindstorms, here's a link to their site.

FINALLY DONE!

jer_ — Mon, 28 Mar 2005 20:32:29 EST
Okay, this thing is all done but the upkeep. The picture pages are up, and as of right now, the pictures of the kids from Easter (yesterday) are up. You can go through the menu system or click right here. You might notice that there's no pictures from the marshmallow drop… well, that's my fault… it goes a little something like this…

So I get Friday's paper and see this article.. which, if you'll note about half way down, the title Marshmallow Drop. On Sunday, after Samantha, the kids, and I went out to breakfast, we went on over to Westland to see the festivities. By 11:15am… it was obvious that something was amiss. We were all alone… no one was home.

Chances are, everyone who read the link already knows what I found out when I got home.

Yes, there was an important word in the article found in that Friday paper… 'today'. Yeah. Needless to say, we did NOT travel back in time, we did NOT attend the marshmallow drop, and we did NOT get pictures from said drop. We went to the park instead.

Website update

jer_ — Mon, 28 Mar 2005 00:12:45 EST
Well, I'm getting there. The site is running CSS, which was a chore in and of itself… but has made matching LJ's color scheme MUCH easier (I stole alot of their style sets right out of the source, once I remembered I could do that). The menu system for the pictures is set, so now all I have to do is reconfigure the picture pages themselves… (probably an hour or so worth of work) and load the new pictures. Presumably, I could be done late tonight or mid-day tomorrow… possibly earlier. If you see anything not working (like the bottom menu not showing at low screen resolutions) shoot me an email or a comment here. Thanks.

New Page

jer_ — Sun, 27 Mar 2005 07:59:32 EST
Okay, here's the new look. Clearly, I have a few tweaks to make… the font size on the menus to the left is not QUITE right, and the picture page links are not in the same color scheme as the rest of the page… but these things will come over time. Also, I'm trying to decide if I like the 'menu' system for the picture pages. Lemme know what you think. I just hate static, annoying lists… and I hate java, so this is what I've come up with.

Please don't look at the source, I haven't done stylesheets yet, I'm using some old pages to expedite matters, so it's a mess… hopefully in the next couple of weeks I'll clean up the server, add CSS, and get things running more smoothly. Any suggestions are, as always appreciated.

Hrmm… just noticed the lack of email link to the left… interesting.

Photographs

jer_ — Sun, 27 Mar 2005 06:27:56 EST
Technology is great. I just was able, at a local K-Mart (obviously a high-end electronics superstore) pick up an inexpensive 3.2 megapixel digital camera. Just a few short years ago, I paid over $700 for a 1 megapixel with NO features. Amazing.

At any rate, I really needed the digicam because I'm tired of not having pics of the kids… and all that jazz. That having been said, I'm going to try to, tonight and tomorrow night (and a bit on Monday if needed) get the picture side of my site back up and running, to include all the old pics of the kids and such. You'll have to bear with me, because I'm too lazy to run my own blog software, so I'm trying to integrate my hosted site and this LJ run blog 'seamlessly' without investing much time. That's why I lazily set up a redirect on the web page… that will, in all likelihood, change this weekend… we will see.

At any rate, more to come probably tonight.

Side note: Holy crap, Blink 182 has a different song playing on each of the top 4 stations that I'm listening to on the internet. Blink or death metal… blink or death metal… the prodigy…

Turn that music down!

jer_ — Sat, 26 Mar 2005 17:32:07 EST
What am I listening to? Well, here are the internet radio stations that I've been cycling through when I happen to be online. I enjoy them, your mileage may vary:

XRM Alternative - Mostly what you'd hear on your FM Top 40 Alternative Station (89X here)

Web Site

Currently playing: Godsmack - Awake

Energy X - Mix of Top 40 and obscure independents

Web Site

Currently playing: Long-view - When You Sleep

Area X - Pretty vanilla Top 40, but they do requests, and your requests get on pretty quickly (at least mine do, but maybe I'm special)

Web Site

Currently playing: Marilyn Manson - The Beautiful People

ChroniX Agression - Pretty hardcore alternative/metal, lots of non-radio bands

Web Site

Currently playing: Deadstar Assembly - Send Me An Angel

Monkey Radio - Kinda house, trance, acid jazz, you name it. It's smooth.

Web Site

Currently playing: Portishead - Only You

XTC Radio - Electronic… house, trance, breakbeats… and Saturday and Sunday is mixes straight from live shows

Web Site

Currently playing: 303 Dreams Live at Wish, Toronto Canada, New Years Eve 2005

Prodigy.ru Radio - lots of the Prodigy, live/rare/remixes… but also lots of other bands that the Prodigy listen to

English Web Site

Currently playing: Out of Space (Techno Underworld Remix)

OmegaIRC Radio - Old school rock… kinda like classic rock, but more fun to say.

Web Site

Currently playing: Iron Butterfly - Inna Gadda Da Vidda

WSRR Old School Rap - Just that, old school rap… the stuff that was around when I was young

Web Site

Currently playing: Floetry - Mr Messed Up

If you know any decent folk-rock stations, lemme know.

Ear Candy and other pre-Easter Fun

jer_ — Sat, 26 Mar 2005 16:09:22 EST
Well, JC is on his way back, so it seemed like a fitting day to point out that soon, you will be able to fill all those Pez dispensers you get tomorrow with music, music, and more music. He came back to bring us music and candy… wooot!

Hopefully, tomorrow, I'll be able to snap some digital shots, if I can get an el-cheapo digital camera. If that does happen I'll be able to post pictures of the happy Easter fun Sunday evening, give or take a day. That works well, because I also want to get around to revamping the photographs, etc, part of the page since LJ charges to add more than a basic journal (blog, *sigh*) here. Umm… that's it. Just gonna check the RSS feeds for anything interesting on the net, then it is time to color easter eggs and permanently stain some carpets and clothing. Woo-frickity-hoo!

Oh, on a side note, if you check out Foamy's Rant from the previous post… make sure you check out some of the others, they're hilarious.

WAY inappropriate… but SO funny

jer_ — Sat, 26 Mar 2005 07:37:42 EST
Okay, this thing is absurdly inappropriate, but I can't stop laughing, so somebody out there is probably as sick as I… to that one other person… enjoy.

In other celebrity news, apparently Tigger and Elmo are dating, as evidenced by this paparazzi video…

My final addition to this entry is Foamy's Rant V. It's funny… except.. I am that first guy, and used to be that second guy… hrmm.. yeah, it's still funny. Thanks Nick.

Where's the, uhh, long pig?

jer_ — Sat, 26 Mar 2005 07:22:28 EST
You know, fast food customers complain when they don't get real meat, and now they complain when they get real meat. I guess Wendy's just can't win, eh?

My name is Henry Earl, and I'm an alcoholic

jer_ — Fri, 25 Mar 2005 06:25:24 EST
I am so glad I quit drinking and drugging before I became this guy. His name is Henry Earl, and he has managed to gain quite the internet following for his absurd jail-time to freedom ratio (he has done 61 days in jail THIS YEAR to date); all related to his perpetual drunken stupor. Sad? Impressive? Beats me, but it sure is amusing.

Hey, my birthday is NOT coming up… Christmas is long gone, but if you wanna just randomly buy me something, pretty much any shirt from this site would pretty much make my day. Well, that or a hoodie :P

Strike that… I need a freakin' monitor. This monitor is driving me nuts. It works just long enough to lull me into a false sense of calm… before it, EVER SO SLOOOOOOOOOOWLY gets lighter, and lighter, and lighter, until it is so devoid of contrast that you are straining to the point of a migraine to make out black letters on a white background. Of course, it never goes completely away, that would defeat the insidious nature of the evil contrast slip. Instead, after about 20 minutes of strain, you suddenly notice that you can't even see what's going on, power off the monitor… wait about 2 minutes, and you're back in business. BLERGH! Maybe after I get a damned job.

So tired…

jer_ — Thu, 24 Mar 2005 22:54:41 EST
I'm absolutely exhausted. I was up until about 4 in the morning on ZUG's prank page laughing until tears were flowing freely from my eyes… I guess the trade off is worth it… if you decide to check it out, I strongly recommend the 'Outgoing Mail' pranks.. specifically the one to Cambell's Soups.

After reading this page, I too, want to take my blog to the streets. I want to paper 96, 275 and 75 (and maybe 696 if I get the ambition to brave that POC) with signs advocating my own personal politics. As soon as I establish what those are.

I am against bad stuff… for sure. And I'm all for the good stuff… certainly. It is when we try to start defining these 'good' and 'bad' things that I run into problems. Maybe I'll just post 'For A Good Time' messages with my phone number, and just rake in the lovely ladies. You know, lovely ladies are the number one dialers of such random numbers. I read it somewhere on the Internet, so it has to be true.

Firefox Security Update released

jer_ — Thu, 24 Mar 2005 02:03:25 EST
Firefox 1.0.2 was just released. This version includes some bug fixes and a minor security repair for the buffer overflow problem with some image files.

Late breaking, 7 month old news

jer_ — Wed, 23 Mar 2005 21:09:39 EST
Well, I'm THOROUGHLY behind the times then… since the new Clerks movie (The Passion of the Clerks) was reported back in August of last year, and, as big a fan of all things Kevin Smith as I am… I managed to miss it. What I didn't miss, however, is that he's talking (in the forum) about starting filming on April 18, 05. The only thing that could be better would be if Jessica Alba were to play, say, a stripper and Susan Storm along side that bald dude from 'The Commish' and 'The Shield' and the kid from 'Not Another Teen Movie'. Oh, wait… nevermind…

I want cheap music

jer_ — Wed, 23 Mar 2005 20:32:02 EST
And now, after reading this tutorial I know how to get my 12 CDs for 1 penny from Columbia House. Apparently, although the pen is mightier than the sword… the insanity is mightier than the pen! (There's a video clip that autostarts, so kill your volume if you're at work).

Buy me something

jer_ — Wed, 23 Mar 2005 17:08:32 EST
Okay, I really, REALLY want this machine. I mean, a 10Ghz processor? 30TB of storage? 2000MB of RAM? and all for only $2,300? I'm in.

I'm looking forward to going to this convention. I don't get to go much of anywhere while doing the single dad thing… so this will be nice.

Oh, and this video has managed to place itself firmly between funny and disturbing. I can't really tell if it is a hoax, but, the scissor recipient's reaction seems pretty realistic to me.

Oddities

jer_ — Wed, 23 Mar 2005 07:38:12 EST
Some rapid fire oddities… This video right here is just not right. No, seriously, it's not right. Umm, I'm a bit disturbed, however, that I find the song so damned catchy. Am I sick or what?

And this crap here will boggle my mind for days. Literally, days. I'm probably going to have odd dreams about this. The best part is the comments below… sick bastards.

Bananaphone is not just funny, but one that'll stick in your skull for LIFE… Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring, bananaphone…

Scroll all the way to the bottom of this top ten list and read the number 1. I have tears… pouring from my eye sockets.

Peace, i'm gone!

A Start

jer_ — Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:43:42 EST
Well, I've finally succumbed to the vain evils of 'bloggerdom'. Of course, I specifically chose Live Journal.com because that way I can say, 'I don't blog, I JOURNAL'. I can split hairs with the best of them.

To be honest, there's about one REAL reason that I am even doing this. So that my handful of friends can be entertained by my witty banter, even in my absence. That, and so that I can make a note of interesting sites that I find, so I can find them later. Somewhere to the left, I want to include the sites I frequent… so far, I'm not finding an easy way to do this, but in all honesty, I haven't looked that hard.

So, the vanity page's logic extension is here… beware reading public (both of you), beware.

Simlish

jer_ — Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:38:47 EST
I happened upon an interesting article about Simlish today.

For the uninitiated, Simlish is the language that the Sims (you know, the game?) speak, the language that their TV and radio is broadcast in, etc. The article talks about how innovative Robi Kauker is for creating faux communication via this gibberish.

Odd, I thought that's what I'd been doing on here for some time… At any rate, it's a pretty entertaining article… if you're into that sorta thing, it's worth a read.

In other news, Hasbro is trying to kick the crap out of the eScrabble site with a cease and desist letter. If you like scrabble and haven't seen eScrabble, I wouldn't start now… :)

Boring!

jer_ — Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:34:47 EST
Just got done watching 'The Girl Next Door', (mmmmmm, Elisha Cuthbert) which I've seen about 2 or 3 times now. I don't know, I got the movie expecting a T&A fest originally, and instead, I've found a movie that I truly enjoy for its own sake, which most likely makes me gay.

Also watched 'The Five People You Meet in Heaven' (which clears up any ambiguitiy about my 'gayness' from the above paragraph, I suppose). I read the book a while back (yep, super fag)… when it first came out, and I have to say, comparatively, the movie sucked. The book was MUCH better (flaming!).

Got a new (to me) PC today, gonna spend some time this week getting it up and running, then get it on the internet, so I'll be mildly more accessible, because it'll be in my room, rather than in the den. I dunno, perhaps its a bit obsessive, but I like it… makes me smile, like handjobs in a junior high school bathroom (did I say that?).

Spring is almost here, ya'll… now, if only the weather would catch up, you know?

Hrmm… not much else going on… just wanted to stop in. Umm… yeah, that.

Friday Night's All Right For Napping

jer_ — Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:24:46 EST
My daughter was pukey sick all night Tuesday, so Wednesday was spent mothering her… well last night was my son's turn… so today was spent mothering him. I hate sick children… not because they're hard to deal with, but I just feel soooooo bad for them. I mean, they're so little, and they so don't deserve violent vomiting spells… not until they start getting hammered in secret by mixing Black Velvet with grape juice (ooops, just threw up in my mouth a little thinking about it… yukko).

Well, it's Friday, like 7 PM, and I'm just chillin'. With one sick kid at home, I'm going NOWHERE tonight. How sad are my Fridays? Imagine the most sad day in the world, then imagine it made even sadder by the fact that you're a single, somewhat mildly attractive, 28 year old male, and you're home alone. :) That's how sad.

Umm… not too much more rambling to do today. Odd, eh? Normally I figure I'm good for a solid two pages (at 1024/768 resolution) of babbling, but apparently, I won't be today. Que serra, perhaps that means this journal will be readable.

At any rate, off to shower, rent some movies, get food with the kids, and maybe read more bash.org (which I highly recommend if you're slightly computer geeky). Peace out!

St. Patty's Day *hic*

jer_ — Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:20:31 EST
There is a certain freedom to be your goofy, off-the-wall self around children (especially your own) that you don't feel all that often around adults, even those who love you, whom you love, and you KNOW wouldn't judge you.

I was bitten in the rear yesterday by that feeling of freedom. So, my kids and I are sitting at home, we're just getting ready to leave, and, out of the blue, I grab my guitar and start singing and playing 'Elderly Woman…' by Pearl Jam. Both kids love the song, and seem to enjoy 'singing along' with me.

About that time, the female half of my roommate family walks into the room. I kinda thought we were home alone, I was SURE that I had heard her leave.

Mortified.

Anyways, thus endeth that madness. Yesterday was 'fun'; my poor daughter was busily trying to paint everything in the house in a lovely color I like to call 'vomit', so I was preoccupied caring for a sick child. I'm not precisely the motherly type, so it takes more concentration for me that for others.

As for today, happy St. Patty's Day! So, Patty and Shamus are walking down the street, on the way home from the bar. Suddenly, from the alley, a severed head rolls into their view. Patty picks up the head and cries out 'Shamus, I believe that this is Sean', to which Shamus replies 'No way, Patty, Sean is MUCH taller than that!'. (Stolen directly from The Morning X)

Okay, lame joke for the day, hope you enjoyed. Pinches for all of you not wearing green… and inappropriate pinches for the ladies, green or no green :P It's St. Patty's Day, and my Irish side can be as debaucherous as I want, even though I no longer drink.

Top O' the Mornin' to ya'.

Ouch!

jer_ — Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:12:25 EST
Well, I just got off my roommate's elliptical machine… umm… wow. First, that thing makes a motion that is not normal for the human body to replicate… least of all steadily for 30 minutes. Yeah, 30 minutes my rear end. Well, let me take this moment to apologize, this is probably going to be a LONG rant, but I have to tell this a certain way to ensure you fully comprehend all that is my life.

Okay, I'm a smoker… I'm in what I like to call my 'winter' shape which is, to put it simply, round. Spherical. Symetrically bulbous. You get the picture.

I'm carting around about 15 pounds of extra weight, my jeans are now tight 38s and 40s fit, instead of tight 36s and 40s are baggy. I have boobies; man-tits… I need a manssiere. Long story short, I want to lose a tad of weight and, more importantly, get my lungs in shape for the spring/summer/fall sports and injuries season (more on that to come, I'm sure). That brings me to an elliptical machine.

I approach this thing with some level of trepidation. I mean, I have LITERALLY never done this type of thing before. I've used a treadmill to run on exactly twice… once for physical therapy, once while visiting my friend at a gym… both time ended in severely skinned knees, hands, and face; yes, face… shaddup! I've used an exercise bicycle a few times… that is as high-tech as I get. I'm a free-weights and occasionally machine weights type of guy. I like to lift, not go aerobicizing, spinning, tae-bo-ing, or any other frou frou crap. That having been said…

This thing is weird. Wiggly arm things, bowed foot things, the 'stirrups' (sorry ladies) move… there's a bloody computer on there to laugh at me. Daunting. I subdue it by unplugging it from the wall… no computer for you… I step gently onto the stirrups, grab the hand thingies, and start the machine in motion.

I nearly break my right arm, leg, and/or neck (the only neck, not the 'right' one) and I fall almost to the ground, nearly taking the machine over with me. This thing is tricky… oh, and the computer… yeah, it has batteries.

It didn't take more than 10 or 20 minutes to figure out how to tell the computer that I'm an overweight, out of shape, 28 year old male that just wants to do some exercise. Maybe another 5 minutes and I'm actually moving along in a decent (albiet awkward) gait. This isn't so bad, I thought.

Here's where that 30 minute idea comes in. My plan was to go thirty minutes this first time, and raise it 5 minutes per week until I'm doing 45 minutes. Then just keep doing 45 minutes 5 times a week (I'll give myself two days off, any two, every week).

Around the 5 minute mark, it occurs to me that most people probably wouldn't be out of breath right now. Around the 6 minute mark, I've already cut off two minutes from the end, I'm only going 28 minutes now. By about 8 minutes, I'm thinking 25 might be the way to go. Needless to say, 3 minutes later (11 minute mark), I'm only doing 20. By 15, I'm thinking that I'll stop any second now, but then, out of nowhere, I get my second wind, maybe I'll go all 30!

30 seconds later, I stop, and 15:41 is my first workout time. In reality, probably about 40:00 if you count setup and such… which of course I will.

So, a 40 minute cardio workout on day one. And now, its time to go smoke a cigarette and order a pizza. (I'm kidding about the second part… I have frozen pizzas here ).

Anyways, good day all around… hope ya'll have the sun that we do… hope it stays so I can start running outside…where I have incentive… not to look like a puss. L8rs.

Beautiful Day

jer_ — Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:05:17 EST
Okay, it's just gorgeous outside. Needless to say, I won't be online much today… sorry, but nature calls. Umm, wait, that means something entirely different… well… ya'll know what I mean. (Yeah, I said ya'll!).

I watched Spinal Tap last night, and I'm reminded why I swore off it last time… I love that movie, but now that damned song is stuck in my head… you know the one: 'The bigger the cushion, the sweeter the pushin', that's what I said…… The wider the waistband the deeper the quicksand, you know what I mean…' Blergh!

If you haven't seen 'Robot Chicken' on adult swim (cartoon network) yet… See It! This is not a request… this is a direct order. It is funny, you will laugh. This is also a direct order.

So, tomorrow I get a play day by myself… YAY! The kids will be with a sitter… I will be among friends doing things I like to do… life will be peachy for a bit. Woo-frickity-hoo!

We peace, good night! Please, remember, the 9 O'clock show is different from the 7 O'clock show, and please, always tip your waitstaff…

Blergh!

jer_ — Tue, 22 Mar 2005 19:42:42 EST
Blergh! That's my new sound… it is a sound of frustration… blergh! BLERGH!

I like hoodies. Hoodies, for those of you from some backwater place where they call them something different, are hooded sweatshirts. I like them… alot. Not in a sexy, want-to-make-love-to-an-article-of-clothing sorta way, but in a thank-god-someone-invented-hoodies sorta way. Needless to say, I own a lot of hoodies… zip up ones, no zip, half zip, sleeveless, short sleeve, long sleeve, fleece, cotton, blend, you name it. Love 'em.

At any rate, the reason I bring this up is because… it is getting warmer. This is the time of year that hoodies start to become less and less an essential part of my wardrobe. You see, I get overheated very easily to begin with, so a hoodie in summer is a bad idea.

This is where sleeveless hoodies come in. I love hoodies, but in the summer, only sleeveless hoodies will do. Here's the problem: Choosing which of my new hoodies to de-sleeve. Of course, I'd LIKE to do it to my favorites, but then they're ruined for winter, and I've hacked the sleeves off from my favorite… but the others I probably won't want to wear as often, right? Oh, choices choices… BLERGH!

Off to smoke, drink coffee (mmmm, starbucks), and stuff… oh, and dishes (I hate dishes).