They used to call me Alison Wonderland. In retrospect, it's a pretty cool nickname.
Friday, March 21, 2008
The Kids at Camp
They used to call me Alison Wonderland. In retrospect, it's a pretty cool nickname.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Seriously, Guys, It's an Ethical Dilemma
Sir Robo-galacticoman: But Princess Ashaleey, I love you!
Princess Ashaleey: No, Sir Robo-galacticoman, it can never be!
(It's for the love of her country! She is worried about the potential immortality = king forever issue - no one likes a metal tyrant)
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Skellingtons
It was a real skeleton. I touched it. It was cool.
By cool, though, I mean sad. Despite the beautifully simple lines and the awe inspiring, complex structure (evolution blows my mind), I can't help but to wonder who she was.
Anyone seen Fast Times at Ridgemont High? Do you think she was a vagrant who sold her body to science for $30? I have no idea when she was alive. Maybe she was the victim of grave-robbery in the 1800s? Did she know parts of her body that she herself had never even seen were going to be thoroughly but dispassionately scrutinized by art student after art student for decades. It's like she's being whored out. I wouldn't feel so bad about it if any of us had the talent to really render her with the passion, innovation, and loveliness that her bones deserve, but as it is, she is prisoner to our mediocrity.
In other news, I'm still jazzed about MIT. Not even art can bring me down from the cirrus (is that the very, very high one?) cloud that I have been floating on for the past 55.5 hours.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
This isn't l'etranger!
Part 2, Chapter 4 of Albert Camus' l'etranger is the chapter that I have been assigned to teach tomorrow. Naturally, that means that I've spent the evening puttering around the internet trying not to think about the fact that I left the wee tome in my locker. And thus, the origins of this post:
I googled some phrase in Klingon, the only result was an old livejournal. I explored the livejournal. What's this?! The fellow speaks at least 5 languages, how interesting... and then I see a string of comments, a 'conversation' in which the blogger and another non-native English speaker attack an American for using the present tense of 'to forget.' No where else in the world, they say, have they ever heard anyone say 'I forget' instead of 'I forgot' or 'I have forgotten.' The American, they say, is just plain wrong. Now, the American failed tragically in defending himself and his countrymen, and I would have gone hastily to his aid if the thread (and, in fact, the entire blog) had not died several years ago.
So, I will justify the American 'forget' here. This may be not be true of everyone, but when I say 'I forget,' I say it with the expectation that I will remember the information at some point; it has been only temporarily misplaced. I say 'I've forgotten' when I doubt that I will ever be able to drag up the lost kernel of knowledge. Chalk it up to the legendary American optimism! We of the United States refuse to acknowledge the potential endurance of any sort of negativity.
And I should go look for l'etranger again.
I googled some phrase in Klingon, the only result was an old livejournal. I explored the livejournal. What's this?! The fellow speaks at least 5 languages, how interesting... and then I see a string of comments, a 'conversation' in which the blogger and another non-native English speaker attack an American for using the present tense of 'to forget.' No where else in the world, they say, have they ever heard anyone say 'I forget' instead of 'I forgot' or 'I have forgotten.' The American, they say, is just plain wrong. Now, the American failed tragically in defending himself and his countrymen, and I would have gone hastily to his aid if the thread (and, in fact, the entire blog) had not died several years ago.
So, I will justify the American 'forget' here. This may be not be true of everyone, but when I say 'I forget,' I say it with the expectation that I will remember the information at some point; it has been only temporarily misplaced. I say 'I've forgotten' when I doubt that I will ever be able to drag up the lost kernel of knowledge. Chalk it up to the legendary American optimism! We of the United States refuse to acknowledge the potential endurance of any sort of negativity.
And I should go look for l'etranger again.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Uberdoodle
Wow. This is supposed to be a sketchblog. Sometimes I forget!
I will be surprised and slightly perturbed if anyone figures out what this is about.
Primary Shenanigans
Geraldine Ferraro was on NPR the other day to tell folks about the deluge of Republicans that moseyed across party lines to vote in the Democratic primary. She claimed that if they hadn't done so, Hilary's numbers would have been much higher.
Okay, Geraldine, that's great, just sayin' tho... my observations at the polls contradict your analysis. Most of the Republicans I checked in said that they were voting for Hilary because they didn't think she would be able to win against McCain. Others said that they were voting for Obama because if they had to have a Democratic president, they would rather it be he than Clinton. I think the Republican votes for Clinton and Obama probably cancelled out. If the results were skewed in anyone's favor, I would say that person was Clinton.
Okay, Geraldine, that's great, just sayin' tho... my observations at the polls contradict your analysis. Most of the Republicans I checked in said that they were voting for Hilary because they didn't think she would be able to win against McCain. Others said that they were voting for Obama because if they had to have a Democratic president, they would rather it be he than Clinton. I think the Republican votes for Clinton and Obama probably cancelled out. If the results were skewed in anyone's favor, I would say that person was Clinton.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
NEVER AGAIN NEVER AGAIN NEVER AGAIN
The Government! If I ever had faith in the bureaucracy, I have lost it.
About a month ago, Mrs. Price asked if any seniors who would be 18 before the November election wanted to work at the polls March 4th. Because I am an idiot, I though ah! involvement in the political system! fun!
No. No. No.
The only thing it involves you in is confusion and disillusionment.
First - more of me being idiotic - I lost my notice-to-serve card and didn't know which ward I was supposed to go to. The Board of Elections didn't return (any of) my call(s) until after the Monday night preparation had started. I didn't get that call, though, because I was out driving around town trying to find the place myself. When I finally arrived, we couldn't do anything because the Polling Location Coordinator had not showed (shown?) up. We called the BOE and they named one of the Presiding Judges PLC. They had no idea what was going on, and neither did we. My precinct was also missing its second Republican Judge, and they didn't send us a replacement when we notified them.
So, from 5:30 Tuesday morning, almost nothing went right. Campaigners infiltrated the building, the Republican Judge sitting next to me spent the whole time talking about how Hillary Clinton has no soul and insisting that non-attorneys should not be allowed to vote for judges, and THE POWER WENT OUT. The back-up lights went out shortly after. The PLC called the BOE, but they just said to hold tight while they figured out what to do. The adults all stood around arguing. It was like one of those corny horror movies or reality shows in which a group of regular people hole up together and make pseudo-logical arguments that result in stupid decisions. Holy shit. It was like these people had not even read the handbook, like they were operating on some other plane of existence were rationality had been twisted around in some terrible, wild knot. When I finally got to leave, my car was completely encased in ice. Like a popsicle. A Honda Accord popsicle.
I will never, ever sign myself up for poll working again.
About a month ago, Mrs. Price asked if any seniors who would be 18 before the November election wanted to work at the polls March 4th. Because I am an idiot, I though ah! involvement in the political system! fun!
No. No. No.
The only thing it involves you in is confusion and disillusionment.
First - more of me being idiotic - I lost my notice-to-serve card and didn't know which ward I was supposed to go to. The Board of Elections didn't return (any of) my call(s) until after the Monday night preparation had started. I didn't get that call, though, because I was out driving around town trying to find the place myself. When I finally arrived, we couldn't do anything because the Polling Location Coordinator had not showed (shown?) up. We called the BOE and they named one of the Presiding Judges PLC. They had no idea what was going on, and neither did we. My precinct was also missing its second Republican Judge, and they didn't send us a replacement when we notified them.
So, from 5:30 Tuesday morning, almost nothing went right. Campaigners infiltrated the building, the Republican Judge sitting next to me spent the whole time talking about how Hillary Clinton has no soul and insisting that non-attorneys should not be allowed to vote for judges, and THE POWER WENT OUT. The back-up lights went out shortly after. The PLC called the BOE, but they just said to hold tight while they figured out what to do. The adults all stood around arguing. It was like one of those corny horror movies or reality shows in which a group of regular people hole up together and make pseudo-logical arguments that result in stupid decisions. Holy shit. It was like these people had not even read the handbook, like they were operating on some other plane of existence were rationality had been twisted around in some terrible, wild knot. When I finally got to leave, my car was completely encased in ice. Like a popsicle. A Honda Accord popsicle.
I will never, ever sign myself up for poll working again.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
A Paradox, a Paradox, a Most Ingenious Paradox!
KING:
For some ridiculous reason, to which, however, I've no desire to be disloyal, some person in authority, I don't know who, very likely the Astronomer Royal, has decided that, although for such a beastly month as February, twenty-eight days as a rule are plenty, One year in every four his days shall be reckoned as nine and twenty. Through some singular coincidence, I shouldn't be surprised if it were owing to the agency of an ill-natured fairy, You are the victim of this clumsy arrangement, having been born in leap-year on the twenty-ninth of February; And so, by a simple arithmetical process, you'll easily discover, That though you've lived twenty-one year, yet, if we go by birthdays, you're only five and a little bit over!
RUTH AND KING:
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!
FRED:
Dear me!
Let's see! (counting on fingers)
Yes, yes; with yours my figures do agree!
ALL:
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!
FRED:
How quaint the ways of Paradox!
At common sense she gaily mocks!
Though counting in the usual way,
years twenty-one I've been alive,
Yet, reckoning by my natal day,
I am a little boy of five!
-Gilbert and Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance
Parce que I had this song stuck in my head all day this February 29th
For some ridiculous reason, to which, however, I've no desire to be disloyal, some person in authority, I don't know who, very likely the Astronomer Royal, has decided that, although for such a beastly month as February, twenty-eight days as a rule are plenty, One year in every four his days shall be reckoned as nine and twenty. Through some singular coincidence, I shouldn't be surprised if it were owing to the agency of an ill-natured fairy, You are the victim of this clumsy arrangement, having been born in leap-year on the twenty-ninth of February; And so, by a simple arithmetical process, you'll easily discover, That though you've lived twenty-one year, yet, if we go by birthdays, you're only five and a little bit over!
RUTH AND KING:
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!
FRED:
Dear me!
Let's see! (counting on fingers)
Yes, yes; with yours my figures do agree!
ALL:
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!
FRED:
How quaint the ways of Paradox!
At common sense she gaily mocks!
Though counting in the usual way,
years twenty-one I've been alive,
Yet, reckoning by my natal day,
I am a little boy of five!
-Gilbert and Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance
Parce que I had this song stuck in my head all day this February 29th
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