Sean's Post-postmodern Nonsense

Archive 2003-2004

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04/27/2004

homeless at nyu

In today's NY Times, there was a short article about Steve--the homeless boy who lives in Bobst library at NYU.  (I'll spare you the Times link, as it may or may not work soon in the future.)  His homepage seems to have a tendency to disconnect sporadically, but I think it's here to stay, even after his official status of homelessness ended.  Rushing to a Warholian interpretation of this amazing phenomenon, I can't help but note the fact that even something as licentious in the middle class psyche as being homeless (just think, it used to be something your mother scare you with when you don't behave) has turned into a risible and immediately self-reliant picaresque.  It has become a tribute to a "pursuit of a writer's dream at all cost".  I have nothing bad to say for Steve, except to add that my measly admiration couldn't possibly do anything for his well-articulated tribulations and vicissitudes.  In fact, the minute I thought of pillorying his parents it occurred to me that it may be Steve's intention as well to not rely on them (as little as they would have originally wanted to cover his stupendous private school tuition.)  All in all, the eerily ponderous juxtaposition of a sort of semi-self-imposed vagabonding and its own glamorization leading to its termination is a great anecdote.

Of course, Steve (or any other library hobos out there) can stay at my place if he'd ever visit my neighborhood.

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04/14/2004

recovery a.k.a. the answer to the riddle (the next entry should be read first)

after a period of therapy, the woman who was afflicted with schizophrenia recovered very well and explained her scary letter to the psychiatrist who was taking care of her.

i went to the beach recently.  i saw some trees on my way driving over to the beach and it made me think of the expression "a giant oak was once an acorn".  I saw a little red house on my way there, and it made me think of European palaces and how it's ridiculous boring in a color sense.  i saw lots of bats but remembered from class that they use echolocation to chase each other but for what reason is still a scientific mystery.  My Amtrak train's air condition was broken and I was frustrated as much as one summer when I ran out of food so I had tuna fish every day.  The boat in which I had a cruise in was filled with good looking southern people dance heartily to John Melloncamp and Tobey Keith with the occasional jarring juxtaposition of Sean Paul.  There was a really odd looking man on my boat who had a strange affect--somewhat detached, like a geologist or something with a beard and glasses.  He was all by himself.  He reminded me of a TLC home building show anchor who looked exactly like that.  My mother has been recently obsessing over the stock market.  I really wanted to go to Egypt but was recently informed that the winter break is going to be excruciatingly short.  Thomas Szasz thinks that all mental illness is essentially a social phenomenon, but he's obviously wrong because now we have sophisticated ways to detect organic changes in schizophrenia.  There is an AA meeting that I must go to at some point for a school assignment.  We also interviewed a crazy dude with low IQ who has visual hallucinations of bowls of pees. 

The following cryptic exchange was somewhat famous in the history of Zen.  I thought it would be somewhat fitting here.  It roughly translates to

"what is the meaning of zen?"

"bamboo shoots are taller, bamboo shoots are shorter."

"what is the meaning of Buddha?"

"oak tree in the front."

"i still don't understand."

the teacher extends his arm.  "what is that?"

"your hand."

he extends one of his fingers. "what is that now?"

"your finger."

he points to the moon. "what is it now?"

"the moon."

"what you are asking is the moon.  what i can tell you is my hand."

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04/13/2004

away for spring break 2004

schizoaffective raving

in class a letter was read...written by a woman who was insane.  structures were tolerably correct; imageries were Kafkaesque: her loose association of her banal life appeared poetical after subconscious utilization of literary devices such as mixing of senses and idiosyncratic metaphors

it has been too long since I had last seen the ocean.  black oak trees drop their teeth like red acorn pandering slowly across a deserted granite palace.  bats were everywhere chasing after each other with intangible purposes.  I am so dreadfully euthymic.  My affect is anything but blunted.  The train's Freon tank is out of order, and it is like canned tuna streamed with iambic perspiration.  Tuna cans getting picked up by a common man, humming John Melloncamp, floating in a small boat on a little channel of sultry water.  He looks lonely and lingered, wearing a pair of glasses that looked like a TLC real estate anchor.  Blonde and blue are everywhere, covering their eyes and brushing over their freckled stiff like sea otters glossing over their hairy legs--the cuteness persists.  maternal perspicacity bruises me with a southern accent, dangerously close to turning off a voice that is clearly too red.  I'm dancing to the love of diffidence and dividends, languid with peripatetic urges unfulfilled.  Even though Psychotic NOS maybe Dionysus chanting and Szasz is almost a palindrome, libertarian psychiatry is still ignobly erroneous.  spilling drunkard rain is almost as hard as making Valsavar maneuver while on a white thing that is so cold.  Freezing and tired is not how a bowl of pees (Ps) would want to be like until they get soaked with low IQs.  It is useless to decipher (fill in the blank) until such effort is fully given up.

Loch Ness!  Look at the moon through my fingers.  Look at my fingers.  Bamboos are tall and short.  They are tall and short.  What are you asking? The moon. 

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03/25/2004

hope for africa

I wasn't aware of the fact that I actually knew of Nicholas D. Kristof until I went through his multimedia special on China.  He wrote the briefly notorious "China Wakes: The Struggle for the Soul of a Rising Power".  Some Chinese intellectuals at the time interpreted the title as a malicious double entendres, but now it seems to me that the linguistic interpretation here is fairly distinct.  The word "wake" cannot be a the pleural form of a noun because the word "wake" in the sense of a funeral ceremony is uncountable.  Drifting aside, I in fact did not read the book that purportedly demonized China and hence have absolutely no opinion regarding it.  However, his columns on the New York Times seem to be quite, borrowing a recently made popular phrase, fair and balanced, and have a superciliously liberal but nonetheless precious humanity instilled. 

The special report on Africa elicited a particularly gut wrenching, teary response.  Yet he remained optimistic towards the future of a continent that had been mired in misery almost since the dawn of civilization.  A world that is so quintessentially unjust--if I were born in Chad, just simply imagine what sort of life I would lead.  The imagery is so consistent, so pervasive, so stereotypical.  I was talking to my Russian Jewish refugee friend, and he attested the fact that he would never want to live in Russia because of the lack of political freedom, now or forever.  But we reached the consensus that we probably all would rather live in Russia than Africa.  And it is an afterthought.  Franz Fanon was right on.  The very word Africa adheres to the naked, emaciated black skin that is the very representation of a semiotic Diaspora.  The continent that is the cradle of humanity is the very chasm of human wretchedness.  How could that be possible? 

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03/23/2004

eastern style pork chop rotelle  

In my attempt of stylistic Japanese-Italian fusion, I've created an quite amazing dish recently (not that I haven't been rehearsing my trademark dishes such as steamed salmon with green onion or mushroom orange chicken)

Rotelle/fusilli is this amazing spiral Italian pasta that is in its every facet the very personification of "al dente" flavor because, well, topographically the surface area is maximized in a spiral configuration, hence its contact with the sauces is the greatest.  Cook the pasta according to the instructions on the box, and spread some pasta on the bottom of the plate.

for 1 serving:

1 pork chop with bones, 1 potato (skinned and cubed),  green onion segments and onion (diced)

mix 1/2 tablespoon of scotch whisky, 1 tablespoon of vinegar, 1 tablespoon of teriyaki sauce or barbecue sauce (if you are more into the southwest twist), 2 tablespoons of black bean sauce, 1 tablespoon of oil, 1 tablespoon of sugar, and salt and pepper according to your dietary preferences.  Add 1/4 cup of water

Fry the pork chop in a pan with the sauces for a few minutes.  then add potato and green onion and onion, simmer for 5-10 minutes, or until the chop is well cooked.  Take out the pork chop and serve on the top of the pasta.  add water to the pan if necessary, cook the potato cubes until tender or slightly brown.  Spread the potato and sauce on the pork chop.  Garnish with parsley flakes and/or lemon slices. 

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03/19/2004

good, bad and ugly cortical synchronizations

It's been a while since I've written anything that has anything to do with science.  I want to summarize what I have learned recently (which is A LOT to say the least) by presenting a recently published article in Science that was referred to me by a good friend of mine. 

Intersubject Synchronization of Cortical Activity During Natural Vision

Uri Hasson, Yuval Nir, Ifat Levy, Galit Fuhrmann, Rafael Malach  Department of Neurobiology, Weizmann Institute of Science, Rehovot 76100, Israel. Department of Computer Science, Tel Aviv University, Tel Aviv 61390, Israel. Interdisciplinary Center for Neural Computation, Hebrew University, Jerusalem 91904, Israel.

Science, Volume 303, Number 5664 (March 12, 2004): 1634 - 1640

Abstract: To what extent do all brains work alike during natural conditions? We explored this question by letting five subjects freely view half an hour of a popular movie while undergoing functional brain imaging. Applying an unbiased analysis in which spatiotemporal activity patterns in one brain were used to “model” activity in another brain, we found a striking level of voxel-by-voxel synchronization between individuals, not only in primary and secondary visual and auditory areas but also in association cortices. The results reveal a surprising tendency of individual brains to “tick collectively” during natural vision. The intersubject synchronization consisted of a widespread cortical activation pattern correlated with emotionally arousing scenes and regionally selective components. The characteristics of these activations were revealed with the use of an open-ended “reverse-correlation” approach, which inverts the conventional analysis by letting the brain signals themselves “pick up” the optimal stimuli for each specialized cortical area.

(I think quoting the abstract does not constitute copyright violation.  Anyone can get the abstract via PubMed at the Library of the Congress.  The full article is available via subscriptions at most University libraries.) 

The idea here is striking.  They measured the brain activity pattern of different individuals viewing segments of the famous western using fMRI, and discovered that many features of these excitation patterns were similar.  They could even empirically isolate different areas of the brain responsible for recognizing Clint Eastwood's face. (the fusiform face area)  Implication?  Different people share the same experiences.  And this commonality of complex experience can be reflected and measured via cross-correlation of fMRI data.

The next step: read a paragraph or two from a Mark Twain story.  Do people process different literary genres differently?  Do men and women read novels differently?  Watch TV differently?  Is there a cultural difference in responding to different types of novels?  Would this be a way to predict whether a movie would appeal to the mass via measuring the brain activities of a few sample viewers?  Is the idea of "universal experience" an illusion?  Do people describe same neuronal experiences differently?  What about music?  Visual arts?  Is the post-colonial dichotomy of subaltern literature valid--do the subaltern and imperialists interpret the same literary tradition differently?  Differently on a neuronal level? 

All these questions can be almost easily tested using a functional imaging paradigm.  Man, sometimes I wish I were soft stomached enough to actually devote myself to fMRI.  Humanities research right now is so vapid that an injection of brain science is very very necessary.  

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03/13/2004

updates: Why MD/PhD is a waste of time and Photo Gallery

modern and post-modern materials

A New York Times article on the rise and fall and reinvention of Times Square reminded me to write about the representational materials of the 20th century.  The Victorian material would either be oak wood or cherry wood, and the classical age would clearly be granite.  The renaissance is close to the classical, say mahogany, or concrete.  The middle ages is definitely bronze.  20th century is interesting: the first half is almost certainly steel, and possibly glass.  The molecular structure of steel shows that it's a somewhat disturbed lattice of iron atoms with sporadic carbon atoms interspersed.  The carbon atoms made the overall structure more, not less, stable.  It's the irony of modern times: the rise of American efficiency (and its art deco manifestations) probably gained from the more seditious and disruptive elements.

Polystyrene, on the left, has a chaotic, abstract expressionist microscopic overall structure.  Yet the simplicity of the repeating form of a polymer projects an eerie deja vu of the most significant triumph of the late 20th century: minimalism.  I actually took a course by Tom Witten on the fractal features of polymers.  Like the new Times Square, the post modern world, unlike the modern one, is one that is made out of plastic: simply, cleanly, completely artificial.  Does it have a personality: yes!  But it's a personality every person hates.  Doubtless we are all nostalgic of a bygone-era when none of this facelessness and convenience of mass production, mass marketing, mass commercialization ruled this man-made earth. curtsey Prof. Tom Witten's Lab Page

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03/09/2004

pretentious vs. capricious

What is the difference between a truly gifted person and someone who's simply pretentious?  It is hard to tell.  Both use big words; both have huge egos.  I couldn't figure it out, so I resorted to soliciting different opinions.

Opinion #1: It's about the depth of knowledge, not breadth.  (Or, rather, it's about both).  Someone who goes on and on about War and Peace is likely just pretentious, but if he could cite Tolstoy's less well known short stories...possibly in Russian, then he's gifted.  (Or at least someone who's dedicated and interesting and not really pretentious.)

Opinion #2: It's about audience.  Someone who cites Tolstoy's short stories in Russian at a bar is just plain pretentious.  But if he or she is doing it in an advanced graduate seminar in Russian lit, then that's just expected.  Hence, it's not about the content but about the audience. 

Opinion #3 (mine): It's about the person who hears the whatever.  Say some dude in a bar woos a girl with rambunctious Russian lit.  If the girl that he was talking to happens to like him for one reason or another, then she will think he's brilliant.  On the other hand, if there is no sexual attraction, she will think that he's just pretentious no matter how brilliant he actually is.  It's all subjective.  There is no intrinsically pretentious act.  Maybe, just maybe, next time you think someone's pretentious, you ought to evaluate yourself first. 

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03/04/2004

the cost of utility

My first utility bill!!  How exciting.  I didn't know why or how conEdison took over not just the electric but also the gas but that Edison guy sure as hell was pretty smart.  And he got electricity working too.

Anyhoo, CURRENT ELEC CHARGES...$22.63 CURRENT GAS CHARGES.... $8.23 TOTAL AMOUNT NOW DUE...$30.86  That's a little less than I thought I was going to be.  It seems that not having cable TV really can save you a lot of money.  Although when I took a deeper look at the bill, I discovered that basically I didn't use any gas last month.  I suppose next month everything would noticeably go up.  Alas, $30 is simply not enough.  I'll start using those darn florescent energy saving bulbs.

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02/28/2004

pride and prejudice

I believe that there is no intrinsic superiority versus inferiority of a particular socioeconomic position.  The relative hierarchy is due to a variety of social forces that put people in these roles.

(1) I told someone that I live in a neighborhood that has a negligible Hispanic population.  I attempted to compare my neighborhood to another neighborhood that had a higher Hispanic population.  This implied that I implicitly defined Hispanics as being undesirable in the sense that they tend to lower property values of real estate.  This could be true in a sense of technical evaluation based on extrinsic variables of correlation.  However, my implication of association to causality is completely erroneous and what I said was quite insensitive.  I was, decidedly, wrong.  I was filled with prejudice.  I think it's better to at least acknowledge the fact that I had racist tendencies than live in denial.

(2) I asked someone at the anatomy lab that he should be helping the female students hacking open the skull of the cadaver instead of standing around watching his female colleagues do it.  I was criticized for ascribing to traditional gender roles.  And yet I pointed out that women do still expect a certain level of financial dependence, from paying dinner to holding a steady job, from a man.  The traditional gender roles are still quite intact, and women seem to be deft at taking advantage of it.  My implication though, was like the previous case, still quite insensitive.  There is no evidence, at least in theory, that women can't fulfill any reasonable social role that a man can.  I was yet again decidedly wrong.   I think it's better to at least acknowledge the fact that I had sexist tendencies than live in denial.

The question of making insensitive comments go as far as protecting the subaltern in a power structure.  In theory, those of us with more power could cause greater damage than simply presenting an untruth.  The greatest evil of prejudice isn't that it projects some untruths (as I have previously believed), but because the propagation of such untruths has can cause additional damage.  For that matter, sometimes true things can cause great damage beyond control, so long as the one in power is the one who makes his case, which invariably would give him some form of an additional advantage.  (For instance, Simon Cowell's judgments are much more hurtful than mine regardless of their veracity.)

It seems that the zero-sum nature of life and the principle of fairness don't mesh together very well.  And, there is no avoiding in it because fairness is essentially binary.  To that end, I want to simply point out that there is a simple way out of it, which is to subsume the role of the diasporas even when you were in actuality an imperialist.  I often am tempted to trump up my race card a little more, in case of being accused of insensitivity.  (Ha, I say the insensitive one is you, perhaps you are just oblivious to my culture...you need a lesson in cultural awareness.)  But I always feel a little dirty--even if I won the battle of the argument in the court of law, I probably have lost the war.  Promoting awareness of differences would never make us blind to them.  What we truly need is to promote awareness of universality. 

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02/23/2004

most comely

Today I saw the most beautiful girl that I have ever encountered in my entire life.  Her eyes were of the gorgeous sapphire blue and her hair was of the refreshing and passionate color of red.  I saw her in the elevator, carrying a stack of paper boxes.  Initially I simply stole a glance or two at her, thinking to myself...hmm, another pretty girl, they just seem to be everywhere, I bet she already has a boyfriend, etcetera etcetera...but a few seconds later, I realized that I had never seen a girl who looked so preposterously identical to my ideal mold of godly beauty.  Her finely sculpted nose and tender lips were completely in such a golden proportion, and there was not a minute amount of imperfection, not a speckle, not a shred of wrinkle on her forehead.

She was wearing a black tweed overcoat and walked away.  I immediately thought, I should've caught up to her and told her, "excuse me, this is going to sound insane, and I know you probably already have a million admirers, and I am not asking you out on a date in a creepy sort of way, but I must simply and honestly tell you that you are the most beautiful girl that I have ever seen in my <expletive deleted> life."  Was she a graduate student?  Post-doctoral fellow?  Simply a college grad working her way up?  Even if her personality were ever so ghastly, I could just stare at her, and all my troubles would dissolve into oblivion.  But...I lost the opportunity.  Damn...well, there is always next time, I mean, presumably she works in the building that I have classes everyday.  Next time I see her, I would have to stalk her...at least follow her to a distance and pour my heart out to her.  Thankfully I look preppy and "young professional" so she'll probably be flattered yet still the chance of her being in a committed relationship is high.  It's like gays have gaydars, straight guys have detectors that sense which girls are involved.

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02/17/2004

flying rats and linoleum

Wailing in the subway station at night, a vagabond walked to and fro across the bridge above the track.  Pigeons, "flying rats", glided through the dimly lit tunnel.  People stared at each other deferentially.  The train was still not here.  Some started to get drowsy.  Suddenly a bright light whooshing through...

...carrying pronouns to another part of the imaginative landscape where carcasses and cactuses grow from the desert plane, out of the burning sand dunes and the sky is of only one color...  The spotlight is the sun, glowing furiously against the pale fabric of the firmament.

Every point in darkness can be captured if color is preserved.  An artificially softened pillow may be more palatable.  A strange and valiant shell of particles, hoping that some day they will run into each other like the strangers all have been in the past.  Clinton's only virtue is his lack of love of chocolate.  Too much time to write and not enough to read.  Eating takes more time than excreting.  That, is human nature.  Despite the custom of condoms, pillar of palliates, botched clans of bottled planes, linoleum will go on. 

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02/11/2004

"You must take the A train
To go to Sugar Hill way up in Harlem

If you miss the A train
You'll find you missed the quickest way to Harlem

Hurry, get on, now it's coming
Listen to those rails a-humming

All aboard, get on the A train
Soon you will be on Sugar Hill in Harlem"

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02/10/2004

submitted

In the good spirit of being self-referential, here is an E-mail that I just received.

Dear Sean,

Thanks for your submission to NYC Bloggers. Your blog, Sean's
Post-postmodern Nonsense, has been approved.

You can see your blog at your station, here:
http://www.nycbloggers.com/station.asp?stop_id=181

You can also find some neat buttons and instructions for linking back to the map here:
http://www.nycbloggers.com/about.asp#buttons

Also, we've partnered with Regional News Network to feature the
opinions of New York City's bloggers on their nightly newscast. You can read the latest poll at: http://www.nycbloggers.com/rnnpoll.aspx
To participate in this project, send an email with the name of your blog, your stop, and your email address to rnn_list@nycbloggers.com.

Last but not least, please help our project grow by telling your
friends about the map!

Sincerely,
Mike, Liz, and Matt

http://www.nycbloggers.com

Comments: who are these Mike, Liz and Matt?  They sound too much like some random names of my college buddies.  Alas, I bet if I saw them in real life they would have looked as much like any of my college buddies as well.  

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02/08/2004

moving banana

This is the last entry until I get Time Warner cable internet for my new apartment, which is not going to happen in the near future unfortunately.  The good thing is that everything heavy and messy has been moved out and over, and my dorm room is an empty, echoing abyss of desolation.  I was listening to the Tom Morton Show on BBC Radio Scotland, and the great Shetland broadcaster's oddly melodic voice vibrated throughout...why this happened was difficult to surmise, maybe because my clothing which was laying around had more sound absorbing characteristics than I had previously realized.  A small grand canyon.  my fingernails are way too long for me to effectively type on my keyboard.  I am quite in deep respect for those who grow to have long finger nails.   

But, that not withstanding, my new abode should be pleasantly exciting, and bringing me to another stage in life that should hopefully last a bit longer than this present one that is about to end.  Will I be lonely?  Hellz no...I'm already enthusiastic to meet new buddies in my building--i.e. the orthodox Jews.  Often I do wish I were a Jew...we just need a few more secular ones.  But yes, this wondering of thoughts will terminate soon, as I focus the rest of the night's rapidly waning energy towards preparing for the upcoming exam.  But the echo...the hollowing echo, like that girl who were trying to find narcissus, desperately yearning for his response, but nothing can be heard, just her own jarringly beautiful sound. 

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01/29/2004

high fever

off get you after bus the of front in cross not to point a it make

overture: a beat in the front, pushed forward and onward, muted and transacted.  cough medicine often have components that are disassociative, meaning that if one lit a cigarette and pressed the hot end against one's back of hand, one would not feel a thing.  Sitting at a diner's table, six people sat in two rows by my side, chatting with themselves when someone observed in amusement and disassociation.  almost as if the frame of the camera was pulled back slowly, dreamily with a sense of lethargy--the funny feeling of fibril detachment, out of oneself as the temperature rose, and fell with goose bump chills, and rose again: tides and waves triggered by a slithering of silence, prejudice, frosty effluvium.  listening to the sound of tittle-tattle, as if it were in a language so alien and amorphous, like the unpredictable clinging and clanging of the radiator.  voice over: what a moment of desperate lon...

fibril tides brushing against the cheeks and buttocks, like a far away voice chanting, or the sound of typographical letters falling out of the sky, hitting the river, the buildings, making crispy, vivacious echoes.  Or shrink to the size of a grain of rice, swimming in a jug of juicy juice.  how does one tell the visual artist that he cannot paint this fibril flow trickling down the spine.

did you know that drinking lots of fluids is not really going to help you out one bit?

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01/26/2004

shine

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACCK A DULL BOY

ALL  WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DUL BOY
           ALL WORK AND NO PLAY
            MAKES JACK A DULL BOY

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY "REDRUM RED RUM" MAKES JACKILSON A DULL BOY "RED RED RED RUM UP UP THE HILL"

Another dull, bone chilling night at a stuffed Manhattan night club Noca (310 Spring St).  Using this space to write restaurant reviews is at least a public service, but using this space to delineate anyone's debauchery with alcohol is a sin.  People should go clubbing less than four times a year.  DVDs are so much more fun.

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01/20/2004

belie the the air of security

Updates: schedule for the spring term is now available in "academic stuff".  Also, the funny and interesting cyber adventure of Binary Memorizer 1.0 is now available in "brain puke".

Cold air seeps into my window.  where is the much needed two layered glass construct.  I thought global warming was in effect.  Another glacial era for the hairy mongoose.  Need to buy a pair of gloves.  Why doesn't it snow more.  There was a truck that got stuck in a blotch of ice on the road and it made this burning rubber smell.  Ruddy nose is a common occurrence.  Waking up at 6:00 and can no longer fall asleep, in dire need to analyze this possibility.  Is crime in the precinct going down?  upper eye lid is having a close contact with the lower eyelid while I moan.  Need to pay the credit card.

I appreciate my laptop computer.  It plays DVDs and keeps humming when it's too hot inside.  Oliver Stone is a genius, if only I had a chance to go to Sundance.  I bet the price of airplane tickets to Park City Utah is out of this world.  I am soliciting any and all ideas to meet the industry.  Even "networking" is ostensibly absent.  If there were a fireplace would make me happy about that.

P.S. Just updated Feedback.  The form should be working perfectly now.

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01/12/2004

I hate blogs because:

people don't use big words in blogs...it's often posted in strange artsy looking fonts: and really who wants to hear the picaresque tales of a common internet slouch?  and plus, "blog" is not a word in MSWord's spellchecker dictionary.  Does Times New Roman size 12 make me look like a square?  Thank you very much I have no grisly pictures of wrist laceration or extramarital animalistic yarn!  and, just because I'm already in my twenties and never taken one dose of prescription happy pill doesn't mean that some monkey looking addled teenager can make me feel...an aged, stale, ready to chew snowflake.  Yes, the days of youth and vigor sufficient for counting diffraction fringes are over--who invented the emoticons? who? I can't believe...it's already January and i haven't been to Mesopotamia.  A man was playing guitar at the Penn Station stop, and because the train was late everybody applauded.  One day a dog might be good.  He might take rat poison.  the first time it's literature, the second time it's kitsch-up  

Is j t still a boy? Changing computers is like changing emperor's new cloth.  To this day I still don't know how to register a web domain name.  Pull the cup close and zoom in, wait for ten seconds and then blow it up on the screen to catch your attention.  I am wondering how long it takes before i get bored with a single shot, 5, 10, then we need rapid cuts.  or a new tendentious diktat.  You know what i hated most that my father and all the English writing instructors said, but nonetheless realized to be absolutely appropriate: you must have a thesis to live in the United States.  Not a green card, not a rich husband.  A thesis god damn it.  Reading blogs makes me feel like a dying battery.  My feet went to sleep. is footnote longer necessary?

oh yeah and one last thing: instant comments should be outlawed.  When I write something, I expect you to READ it.  No editorializing, no sarcastic retaliations, no masturbatory critiques! Non! N-O!  nitric oxide!  Who do these bloggers think they are?  pinky Castros who want to start a revolution to topple the sacred relationship between an author and his audience?  Freedom fries them

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12/20/03

lords ands rings

Just saw Lord of the Rings the last episode.  I tend to agree with Roger Ebert's analysis that the movie's plot is a bit too silly to evoke any particularly strong psychological response.  But, the very fact of its existence is a tour de force for the common man. This movie is not meant to be "comprehended" by the elite.  It is meant to be enjoyed on the most visceral, sensationalistic, spectacular level with next to no need of any superficial, actual or wanna-be intellectual sentimentality.  To that end, I think Peter Jackson has done us a tremendous service by alleviating even the most self-righteous critic from the burden of seeking additional artistic merits.  The very prowess through which the movie draws out a popular crowd can fully fulfill its artistic capacity.  The Academy may not appreciate this almost completely escapist undertaking, but they can in no way disregard the ambition and talent of the director. 

On the other hand, recently I have been trying to think of ways through which CGI could be used in "regular" movies.  I haven't been able to come up with anything definitive.  It seems like unless we do take a fantastical storyline, there is in essence no way of incorporating many of the glorious visuals--even in war movies, some of the visuals would be a bit too heavy handed and inappropriately freakish for the necessary solemnity of human death.  (While, such presumptuous un-reality is just about perfect for a group of make belief mobilizations)

It is also an almost odd thing, that the book is now considered a classic in English literature.  I have taken a bit of time to read the first book, Fellowship of the Ring.  First of all, it is quite unlike the movie, with very little actual depiction of the action.  It is more like a travel log, full of smaller, softer details.  It is also quite a slow read, particularly for someone who has a bit of a perhaps unjustified contemptuous attitude towards fantasy novels.  The book is often slackened and entangled by poems and songs and details that serve no other purpose than illustrating the ways in which the characters may live.  It reminds me of Tolstoy in some portions, but rather disappoints me in its lack of internal depth of the characters.  The Lord of the Rings is not really a modern novel--in fact, it is not even a Victorian novel, it is more like Beowulf than Walter Scott--despite its relatively modern origin.  The author is probably not aware, or deliberately discards the modernist movement.  I suppose for me both the movie and the book were a bit shy of true greatness, but I'm just another smarty pants know-it-all in any case.

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11/31/2003

monkey on sailboats

Newly updated artwork in Brain Puke

I'm writing more about my British trip. 

Check out craigslist of New York City

http://newyork.craigslist.org 

Check out this great ad

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Want to invite a monkey for a sail boat ride

Reply to: anon-16496900@craigslist.org
Date: Fri Sep 19 12:17:23 2003

I own a sailboat. I like monkeys. I don't have the time or schedule flexibility to care for a monkey of my own, and don't know anyone who does.

A friend who sails with me happened to mention that he used to sail on a boat in California with someone who had a monkey, and that the monkey apparently loved sailing on the boat. Given that I have a boat and like monkeys, I thought it might be fun to offer a boat ride to a friendly monkey owner & monkey. I get to spend some time with a monkey, monkey & monkey owner get to go for a sail.

I don't know if anyone in the NYC metro area owns a monkey, nor if anyone who does reads Craig's List, but leads appreciated.

This is serious, but seriously for fun. Genetic monkeys only, people in monkey suits need not apply. Boat is a substantial sailboat capable of crossing oceans, handled by a very experienced owner.

Please put "Monkey Sailboat" in subject so I don't accidentally delete your email.

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11/20/2003

gay waterfowl

I recently wrote a paragraph or two about Erich Ohser.  I posted some samples of his work on this site.  Of course, the pictures are all copyrighted material but in this spirit of sharing his art I think he would've approved in his grave.

The collection of random material would be posted on my "Brain Puke" page for my lack of ability to use Frontpage to create new pages.

I saw a nifty article on homosexual necrophilia of ducks:

http://www.nmr.nl/deins815.htm

a Drake mallard (Anas platyrhynchos) in full breeding plumage (left) next to the dead drake mallard (NMR 9997-00232) just after collision with the new wing of the Natuurmuseum Rotterdam; b the same couple during copulation, two minutes after photo a was taken. [photo: C.W. Moeliker]

The author, quite appropriately, won the Ig-Nobel award for his research that "cannot and should not be repeated"

"Academic Stuff" and "Photo Gallery" were updated with documents and pictures from the British trip.