Long time, no chat!

Man, it's been far too long since I posted here. I was reading a new book this morning (The Year of Living Biblically, by A.J. Jacobs), and realized that I haven't written on a daily basis in quite some time. Gotta get those ramblings out somewhere. I think it's pretty cathartic to do that, and keeps me from yammering in people's ears about topics they'd rather not hear about.

Anyhow, news...

Hope and I (mentioned below) have been dating for over a year now- it was a year as of April 23rd- and we've moved in together as of the start of March. We just moved into a condo (rental) at the beginning of August, and it's really nice, though we're still trying to slowly sort out our furniture situation. Watching endless design shows doesn't help- I now know what an accent wall is, and comprehend color palettes. God help me.

Hope and I, as of this morning, actually, started the South Beach diet thing- this is part of my reasoning for writing these entries- and so far it's not horrible. I just am not a huge fan of "diets", in general (I've done the Atkins thing for about two weeks, and even tried the hideous lemonade diet, once upon a time- not my favorite), but we'll have to see. I had some tuna salad (with mayonnaise, onion powder, and tomatoes) for lunch today, and a small handful of peanuts (whose second ingredient was sneaky sugar- you bastards!), but we'll see if that works. If nothing else, it'll keep me from eating out so much, get Hope and me more aware of what the hell we're eating, and save us enough for me to get some bitchin' kitchen equipment.

On the performance/improv front, Theatre Momentum is doing well. We're finishing up a run of shows this coming weekend, over at the Greenhouse Theater Center. We did a late-night run of a single show, prior to that, and it garnered pretty sparse houses. So, lesson learned, there. And this one took a little bit to get rolling, but once we did, we've been having better houses than not.

I'll admit, though- there are times when, throughout this process, I've thought, "man, this is a pain in the ass, all the work it takes to do this- I can't ever concentrate onstage." But then I have killer performances, and realize that I can sometimes really shut out the bullshit and focus on the show.

It's a lot of work. I sometimes wish I could just not want to perform, and just focus on the administrative side of things, but hell- I didn't get into this because I wanted to shuffle papers around and organize fundraisers. It's a troublesome dilemma. I love to perform, with the right people and the right show, but getting people into the door to watch those shows (which would be part of the point) is just as much (hell, more) work. I've got a slew of ideas for what we'll be doing in the next year, but I'm not going to post them all here, not right now, anyhow.

Suffice it to say, I've been reading books on marketing, pricing, and I've been generally sorting out how TM has to reinvent itself to get butts in seats (other than the usual friends and family), and I'm slowly coming up with some ideas that'll work for us. But hey, the details of the plans are reserved for company members, so off you go!

Oh, yes, we became an official company, by the way. I noticed that wasn't the case. Since last posting, we've put up Jigsaw and Mixtape, the Bailiwick Theater closed down, we moved Jigsaw to the Oracle Theater for a run and put up Eavesdrop and Poser, and we've put up two 15 Hour Projects since then, and mounted Significant Moment in the Life of... at the Greenhouse, and are running that and Status and The Steps at the same time. We ran an 8-week long improv and sketch competition and gave away a $400 prize, and we're finishing up a 5-week version of the same at the Greenhouse. We took over the studio space at the Cornelia Arts Building and tore down a couple walls and built some new ones, making it into two rehearsal studios (and we're slowly learning that soundproofing is a royal bitch), and we're still, of course, running WiP, with new directors every 4-6 weeks. And Don Hall came back as our coach for "The Woodshed" a bit of a beat-your-ass improv workshop.

Whew. Damn. That's a lot of stuff. I need to post here more often, hunh?

The 15 Hour Project, fundraiser, hooray!

I'm kind of a doof for not having posted this sooner. We're remounting The 15 Hour Project again on June 28th, and we're also holding an 80's Dance Night & Dance/Costume Contest fundraiser this Friday. What? Yeah, very busy 'round here. It's cool.

Check it out:

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Theatre Momentum
announces the return of

The 15 Hour Project

Theatre Momentum is remounting
our signature event, The 15 Hour Project. Join us for an entire day
of workshop, rehearsal, and performance, with some of Chicago's premier
directors. We've run this event twice before, and it's been a complete
blast. Check it out:

The 15 Hour Project consists of three parts:

A morning workshop (10 AM-2 PM), modeled after TM's Work(shop)-in-Progress, followed by an afternoon rehearsal period (3-6 PM) and an evening performance (9 PM).

The daytime sessions of The 15 Hour Project will take place at the Strawdog Theatre (3829 N. Broadway, 2nd floor) at 9:30 AM on Saturday, June 28th. Performances will be at Mullens at
9 PM.

Schedule is as follows:

9:30 AM — Check in

10 AM-2 PM — Work(shop)-in-Progress with Don Hall

Don Hall, WiP's director, will run a 4 hour workshop to generate three brand new show formats. The structure of this will be slightly different than the traditional WiP format, and will use input from all workshop participants to create some truly unique shows. These shows will be performed a few times, polished a bit, and prepped for rehearsal. At the end of the WiP session, the participants will break into three groups, to work on one singular format.

2-3 PM — Lunch break

3-6 PM — Rehearsal

After lunch, the three longforms are handed off to our three directors, Jamie Buell, Joe Janes, and Angie McMahon. Workshoppers will rehearse the formats they created that morning, tweaking, polishing, and preparing them for performance.

The shows being prepared will aim for a 30-35 minute show length

8 PM — Doors Open

Doors open at Mullens (upstairs lounge), which will be our stage for the night. Tickets will be sold at the door for $10. As a participant, you get in free, of course.

9 PM — First of The 15 Hour Project shows begins.

Performances will run about 30-35 minutes apiece, with one intermission.

Cost: Only $25!

That's right. This entire day of workshop, rehearsal, and performance will cost $25, to cover the expenses of the day. TM is not about making a huge profit- it's about providing opportunities.

And there's more...
Given that there is no better promotion than word-of-mouth, and given that Theatre Momentum would love to make this event as inexpensive as possible, Theatre Momentum will pay you. That's the word. When audience members purchase a ticket for the shows of The 15 Hour Project, we'll ask them how they heard about the show. For every audience member that mentions your name, you will receive $5 cash at the end of the night. Simple. We want you to have an audience, and we want to give back.

For more information, or to register for The 15 Hour Project, please send an email to info@TheatreMomentum.com.

The 15 Hour Project is open to anyone, though we ask that participants have a minimum of 6 months improv/acting experience. Due to the nature of this event, it's simply easier to work it this way. The weekly WiP sessions are always open to any experience level, of course.

That's the story on The 15 Hour Project. Many participants will pay the day of the workshop, but it is first-come, first-served, and we are capping it at 30 people.

Your space is not reserved until your payment is received.

If you choose to pay in advance, you may pay via PayPal to payment@TheatreMomentum.com,
and note The 15 Hour Project in the memos. Bring your PayPal receipt the day of the workshop, and you'll be all set! Or you may pay by check, made payable to Theatre Momentum, to 1031 W. George, Garden, Chicago, IL 60657.

Long time, no chat

News, n' stuff.
Wow, it's been a long time since I posted a blog. Remember when I said I'd post a blog like, every day. Yes. We both knew I was fibbing, so let's not dwell, eh?

Lots going on now, which would be, in part, why I've not posted in a while. Busy, busy, blah-blah.

New girlfriend.
I started dating this girl, Hope, about three weeks ago. First time in a long time I've really been into a girl. She's smart, funny, sarcastic, gorgeous, and very easy to be around. I found myself, Saturday, realizing I'd blocked off part of the day to clean the apartment (for no particular reason other than it needed to be done), which, in the light of day, seemed absurd. I called Hope, and we spent the day together, which we've only got to do a couple times, but which has been really great. Much better than doing the dishes, of course.

So, if you see me acting like a bit of a grinning idiot, that'd be why.

Contacts
I did it. Actually, the day before I met Hope. Finally got contact lenses, quickly learned that you can put them on inside out, apparently, and slowly got used to wearing them. I've still got glasses as a backup, but in truth, I don't see myself putting them on very much. It's nice to have a full field of vision. Huzzah, sight.

Auditions!
Oh, baby, this is finally getting off the ground. Theatre Momentum (the "board" of which is, at the moment, more or less me n' my shadow) is holding our auditions for the next round of shows. We did showcases last year that had three shows apiece, and frankly, that was a lot to work on.

This year, we're aiming at a new setup. We're auditioning two shows at a time- this round is Jigsaw and Mixtape, directed by Rob Kozlowski (author of The Art of Chicago Improv), and Amanda Rountree (from Seattle), respectively. I'm feeling optimistic about the prospects of these shows. Conceptually, they lend themselves very much to the smart, complex style of play that I want TM to be recognized for, and that's keen.

I've been in talks with the Bailiwick about their spaces- they have a loft space I'm hoping to rent in the long-term, so we have place to actually take shows after the 8-week runs of a showcase are over. After talking with Don about Fugue, it looks like we'll be remounting it later this year (holding auditions at the same time as the TM IV auditions, for which I've yet to choose shows or directors...!). But, here's my hope- we run Jigsaw and Mixtape for 8 weeks. A little bit into the run, we see that the shows have legs enough to continue in an extended run. If the casts need to be expanded to have enough players to continue (schedules sometimes suck for extending shows), we either invite people who auditioned in this round of auditions, or we keep a lookout in the upcoming round of auditions (TM V, at this point, auditioning about 4 weeks into the TM III run- I know!), and invite some of those folks to join the extended runs.

Jigsaw and Mixtape move to Thursday and Friday nights, 10:30. Fugue runs Saturdays, 10:30. TM IV drops into its slot in the Wednesday night showcase. Since we'll be renting the loft space, making it our own little home (it's only about a 40-seat theater, just about perfect for our needs) 4 nights a week, we'll have the same space for all our shows, which makes for a nice brand identity/home base sort of thing. If all goes well, who knows, maybe we move Jigsaw and Mixtape into other, more prime-time slots, and start renting at other theaters, too. Eventually, TM becomes mighty.

Something like that. But, it's all contingent upon me keeping my focus on the long-term goals, rather than getting caught up (as I have in the past) in instant-gratification and popularity. We shall see.

WiP
All of TM's shows get spawned in WiP. Thus has it always been, and I'm sure this will be how it'll go for the majority of our shows for quite a while. But the tenor of WiP has changed in the past handful of months, so we spend a good portion of the workshop with Don coaching the workshoppers about their individual improv skills. We end up going an hour and a half before we even get to a break, and it's sometimes almost 5 PM before we've begun performing a form at all.

It's tough. I know that Don's no-holds-barred, tough-love approach to improv coaching is something people value (myself included), but that's not WiP's purpose, technically. Its purpose is to generate cohesive, interesting, unique shows for TM to possibly produce, and, in the process, improve people's improv skills. It's sort of shifted the other way, so the show creation has become more secondary.

I don't want to force the evolution of the workshop, but I need it as a specific tool to TM's development, more so than I need it to be a cool classroom. I'll probably chat with Don about it, see what his thoughts are (I've actually considered asking him if he wants to work up a curriculum and teach a short, TM-backed workshop series that gives him a bit more of a free hand than WiP, but that's down the road, if it is to happen).

See, as a producer, I have to look at the shows WiP develops from a certain mindset. I have to look toward the end-product and say to myself, "will this be marketable?" "will it be recognizable to an audience that ____ show actually is ___?" "does this format serve the style of play TM wants to be known for?"

And that's a lot to worry about. I try to shut up that part of my brain, but we're still a young group, trying to make an identity. I don't want to fuck with the workshop too much, but I want auditioners and audiences to be able to look at "Jigsaw" and say, "oh, a puzzle! I get it!" and want to come to the audition or the show. If it's something that I have to explain at length, and the reason it's cool is only because the person I'm talking to is an improvisor who doesn't get to play anything but a Harold- then that's not much of a hook.

The other thing, though, which drives me nuts because it goes against the "marketability" mindset (which might be a good thing) is that specific forms lend themselves to intellectual, layer, complex, theatrical performance, where humor comes from much more than punchlines or funny voices. I need to pull away a bit from the marketing mindset, and find a manner in which to market those shows that happen to be structurally good for the TM aesthetic.

[Anecdotal whining moment]
A few weeks back, before WiP started, Don was chatting with Lisa about the upcoming auditions for the SKALD storytelling competition with WNEP. Lisa had mentioned that she really wanted to work on monologues, to prepare for this. Don, sensing opportunity, said he'd work it into whatever form we did today.

I sort of took issue with this, and said so- it seemed a little unfair to lump in the lesson of monologues in with a form that might not necessarily call for it. Seemed like the show formation would take a backseat to the lesson (like I mentioned above). Bugged me a little bit, but I figured it'd work out somehow.

One of the forms I'd dropped in the bowl, "Placebo Effect", got pulled. When I'd come up with this idea, I thought it would be something rife with possibilities for TM show production- it's a recognizable idea to most people, has the potential for some sort of layered, intelligent play, and we could really muck around with style. In discussion, the idea that "perception + authority becomes reality" was thrown about, and I was prepared to do something cool.

But, as I'd worried, the form took a backseat to monologue-lessons. As Don began to describe the form, I said, half-jokingly, "oh, so you're just gonna stuff monologues onto my form? Sheesh!" (or some such). Don's response- "You don't have a form. You have an idea. I have the form."
Ouch.

The form worked out, but had considerably more to do with using monologues than it had to do with the Placebo Effect. It was a three-person scene, with people stepping out at intervals to monologue on a time when they'd experience a placebo effect, in some form or another. And that monologue's information was to feed the scene development. As I mentioned to Don, halfway through the process, the monologues could have been about any subject matter- this didn't really speak to the idea of "the placebo effect" at all.

Usually, Don will ask the person who originated the nugget of the form idea if the form we came up with speaks to thus-and-so concept. I didn't really feel I'd been afforded this courtesy, and it kinda stank. I didn't think my format got the full "Don Hall" treatment.

Boo-hoo.
[/Anecdotal whining moment]

I've moved on. It's not like we developed a shitty show, or like Don was intentionally trying to be disrespectful or anything. There's no point in wallowing in it. We've developed a ton of shows, and as Don has admitted to, sometimes the formats are just what he wants to watch that particular day. Given that I owe him for creating lots of terrific formats, I can't deny him a bit of free rein, now can I?

15HP
The 15 Hour Project looms. I'm still trying to get together the last little details of stuff, but it looks like we have a couple directors lined up already, and the tentative date is June 28th. Boom. Can't wait to see how this one plays out. It's been over a year since the last one, and people have constantly bugged me to put together another one.

Open Court
I went to Open Court at The Playground last week, and got pulled into coaching one of the three teams. I tossed out an idea that I thought would be pretty straightforward, and which would lend itself to some smart performances. I should have been a little more explicit, I guess, because it didn't turn out quite as I'd hoped.

The concept was "invisible man". It's something I pretty much stole from a Joe Bill workshop. One player begins a scene, solo, speaking to a second character. No actor is portraying that character, but the first player assumes responses from this "invisible" character, and the audience hears one half of the conversation, interpolating the rest of the dialogue in their minds, based on the reactions of the first player. Eventually (this is supposed to be like 30 seconds to a minute, but ended up as an average of about 5 seconds), a second player enters, assuming the character of the "invisible" character and continuing the scene.

Simple-ish. Didn't work out, and the scenes were rife with denials, cheesy reactions, and jokey dialogue. I felt bad for the two players from International Stinger, because they definitely got the concept, and tried to run with it, but not everyone was on the same page.

Alas. I guess I wouldn't have felt so lousy about it, but the other two teams that night did especially well, considerably well, given that it was Open Court. Ah, well, whatcha gonna do?

Obama
Hurry up and get those superdelegates together, so we can move on to the general election campaign. Sheesh.

I want a candidate people perceive as "elite". I'd like the leader of the free world to be amazingly mind-boggling more intelligent than I am. Be a better person than I am, think more in the long-term than I'm capable of fathoming. Don't ever change, Barack. Take it home.

Crossroads...(?)

The apartment I'm in right now is decent. Nice, sometimes. It's got its issues, sure, but it has a washer/dryer and a (albeit lame) dishwasher. It's a two-bedroom, which usually doesn't bug me at all, since my roommate and I get along fine, and hardly ever get in each other's way. It's near to my gym and theaters and such- all of which gives me the excuse to get the hell out of the house and go *do* stuff.

I got my decent raise from work, so I'm surviving alright. Making enough I can, again, have a place by myself. And frankly, I don't have that much stuff. I'd love to get more stuff, so I have a nice place to call home, and it's something I've not really invested in, for various reasons, for years. Time to grow up, buy a couch. Because, you know, that's the measure of an adult.

I've been talking with my roommate and my landlord, and the plan is to stay in this place till around July 1. So, for once in my life, I have some time to save up and buy some proper furniture and such when I move into my new place. I'm really considering trashing most of the furniture I currently have and replacing it with nicer stuff- like, a desk, bookshelf, and dresser that aren't made out of pressboard, and a brand-new, big comfy bed. Y'know, normal-person shit.

And in considering the move, I'm also struck by how much I really like having room to have people over. I enjoy throwing parties, even if it's just a small get-together to watch movies. I like dinner parties, dance parties, karaoke parties- just about any excuse to get together with a group of friends and have a good time in my home.

That will come to an abrupt halt if I move into an apartment in the neighborhood I'm currently in. The chances of finding something even moderately sized without blowing my entire budget... is pretty small.

For a couple years, I lived out in Logan Square. While the neighborhood isn't spectacular, the first apartment I lived in while I was there was pretty decent. Well, the first one. Second one was lame by comparison, but I was paying practically nothing for it.

Regardless, I was reminded of that nice apartment recently when I chatted with my friend Hector, who lives out somewhat far west (I'm not even certain how far west, to be honest). I recently helped him move a pool table into his apartment, and got to see how absolutely huge his place is. It's massive. It would swallow up my apartment and have room for dessert. And it's a one-bedroom. And he pays less than I pay for my half of my rent.

So, suffice it to say, I'm a bit at a loss about where I might want to consider moving. I guess it'll all depend on the apartment itself. A gym membership I can get just about anywhere (though I do like my gym right now), or, depending on the place, I could always buy some equipment (which sounds lame, but if it were in a dedicated room and not a Crossbow in my living room, it might work). Whole different experience.

So much to sort out. I like having space, but I also like living near to things. If I live further out, I could afford cabs, easily, but on those nights I don't feel like grabbing one, it's a long trip home. Closer to theaters, I couldn't afford them, but it wouldn't make a difference, either.

Chaos.

---

Food bad
Work has been quiet, but home has been lame. I've been forced to move everything out of my room due to a sudden odd smell (don't ask what I think it is), which means I've been sleeping on the couch the past couple nights, something that doesn't lend itself to a restful sleep. I'm considering setting up my bed in the living room for the few days it might take my bedroom to air out (my landlord's not keen on the idea of tearing open the walls/floorboards to find the source of the scent, and while I'm not, either, I'm not thrilled about sleeping in the living room for days on end).

I'm considering revamping my diet a bit. I've been finding myself edging toward more and more "comfort-food" eating, which is never good, and causes a spiral of laziness and bad eating that just feeds itself, giving me ample reason (aside from not sleeping a wink) to not go to the gym, a habit I must return to in earnest, because it always makes me feel better.

I've noticed that far too much of my diet, because of the ease and speed of cooking it, revolves around bread/pizza, pasta, and cheese. And while these are nice n' tasty, I'm positive they're affecting me adversely. I'm generally not a fan of cutting anything out of your diet; hell, I'm not a fan of dieting to begin with. But I know for a fact that I could eat better than I do, and that during those times that I've eaten less bread (usually pizza), pasta, and cheese, I don't get all fatigued and lazy. And besides, I could stand to expand my choices a bit. And I probably shouldn't nosh on the leftover candy from WiP.

So sleepy.

---

Halcyon nostalgia...?
I got a strange email the other day, from my ex-fiancee, Amber. We were engaged in December of 2000, and broke up in early 2001. Among a variety of reasons for the break-up, a big one for me was that her career (she's an actress) was the end-all, be-all, most important thing in her life, to the exclusion of everything else, including her fiance. I was not-quite second-place to a part in a musical. At least, that's how it feels through the lens of memory. She'd warned me about this when we first started dating, but I ignored it, thinking- hell, I have no idea what I was thinking. This was years ago, and I was nuts about her.

Anyhow, she's moved to Chicago. Not sure if it's a permanent-ish move, or one more stop on her grand American tour, but she spoke about being "settled in", and how she's in a show at the Bailiwick, not something you'd think could be done in a brief stopover.

I'm not sure if I want to see her or no. As with any of the small handful of women I've ever loved, it's hard to just turn that off. At the same time, the content of her email seemed to be mostly one of "come see my show!" which does little but remind me why we broke up. Plus, despite the fact that photos rarely do her justice, there's a handful on her Myspace that are making her not looks as spectacular as I remember her (of course, I look different, 7 years later, too).

Still, it's been years since I last saw her- I ran into her when I was still in Cincy, about 6 months before I moved here. Mike and I were looking for stuff for my birthday party, costume-wise (he decked himself out like Bach... long story), and went looking at the costume shop where we discovered she worked. Of course, 6 years later, all I can recall from that conversation is that she had little to say but to tell me about the shows she was currently in, and not once asked me, with any genuine interest, something along the lines of "and how are you doing?"

I'll probably end up seeing her at some point or another. A Venn diagram of our social circles would have a little more than a tangential touch. Just not sure if going to see her in "Down With Love", doing her one-woman take on the subject, is how I'd like to see her.

Que sera, sera.

---

In other news, I'm realizing I need to clean up/expand my music collection and learn what the fuck an RSS feed is, so I actually read the internet sites I think are so cute/cool/whatever, when I find 'em on StumbleUpon (fuck you, Don, now I waste time like no other). Plus, it'll give me some non-introspective blog fodder. Blodder. I need more blodder.

The sound of one hand clapping.

I've been chatting with Don about remounting Fugue. Seems like he and I are just about all that remains from the original group, anymore.

Of the original cast- me, Jess Jones (nee Schlobohm), Chris Biddle, Lisa Fairman, Scott Whitehair, Deanna Moffitt, Matt Devine, and Krissy Kavanagh, half have stepped back. For Jess and Lisa, it was personal, relationship-y reasons I won't go into. For Scott, it's the conundrum of keeping his writing muse happy. And for Chris, it's the necessity of letting the show evolve without being bogged down by half of an old cast. I still dunno about Deanna, Krissy, and Matt yet.

It begs the question- is it still a show, if the only people involved are the producer and the director? Is it still a remount? (probably yes)
It also begs the question, should I be cast already? If the remaining three drop out for whatever reasons, I'll be all that's left of the original cast. It'd be a cast of 9 new people, and me. Frankly, that's exciting to me, because it's fresh blood and a fresh perspective on a show I really cherish. I revel in the chance to do truly artistic and intelligent work, and I know there are unexplored levels to this show.

I'm hopeful that, even if their reasons for stepping back from Fugue persist, the cast members come back and audition for the new shows. Their style of play, intelligence, and integrity as performers is something spectacular to behold, and I really can't imagine things moving forward without their (for lack of a less hippy word) energy. Yes, I'm a hugger.

TM will survive. We're in a downswing right now (all but one of the board members has also stepped down/back), but that happens to all companies in their evolution. There's the possibility of us getting (close to) our own space to play in, something I'll finagle any way I can, because of what it means for the company. We have terrific shows waiting in the wings for directors/producers/cast. This is an odd, nervous time I've been through before, but never enjoy. I need to get my ass in gear and make use of the opportunities afforded me by some void that's present in the improv theatre world. I want us to do more shows like Fugue. Hopefully, when we get a new cast, they'll be able to step up and play to the level the original cast hit.

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Sickest Fucking Censorship.
Chris Biddle produces a show called The Sickest Fucking Stories I Ever Heard. I first saw this show produced about 5 1/2 years ago, at The Memphis Comedy Festival, before I even moved to Chicago. It was hilarious. It's a fun show, but it can get pretty fucking dirty. It's in the title, for crying out loud. People play poker and share dirty stories. Sick stories. Stories involving bodily fluids, functions, and contortions. The underbelly of existence. You know, the best kinds of stories.

Anyhow, Chris mounted a production of it in Chicago, late last year. Opening night was a free show, to gather crowds, and I did my part by posting it on Meetup.com, which seems to be a good source of people who want to see some new and sometimes bizarre shit in the city. Cool, they said, and came in droves. We packed the theater, and everyone had a great time. The show continues now, one Saturday a month, at the Playground Theater.

I'd told Chris I would re-post the event sometime in the future, to get him some more crowds. I've done this for other shows I like. So, I posted an event for his April show, and so far have gotten a good response.

Except for one individual.

See, I post it as "Sickest F*cking Stories" on the event, and when you post an event, it emails the whole group to let them know there's a new event. Well, I got a response from one person who basically told me, "Don't email me this kind of filth. If you're a patron, so be it, but I don't want to be a part of a community associated with such nonsense."

I wasn't sure how to respond. Surely, this person is an adult who's heard curse words before. Certainly, they must know that this wasn't an attempt for me to dump porn into their email box. I've gotten event notices that I'm not particularly interested in- some dude recently had posted something about a rave, which I found odd and almost inappropriate, but I left it alone. It is, after all, a "night life" meetup group. Takes all kinds, right?

So I shot back an email to the tune of "I'm sorry you were offended by the notice. It's simply the title of the show, and not an attempt to fill your email with 'filth'. I can't remove one specific person from the email bulletins; Meetup isn't structured that way. You can shut off emails yourself..." -blah, blah, blah.
I figured they were misreading it as some spam I'd sent out under the guise of an event. Like putting "make your dick bigger!" as an event on a singles group.

Not so. This individual is "a Christian", and thus considers this sort of event "offensive". They went on to tell me that I could have posted a "neutral event" (whatever the fuck that is), "BUT YOU CHOOSE NOT TO" (their caps). And further went on to say that I should ask myself before posting, "is this event appropriate for the group?" and that they, themselves, withhold from posting events about "Sunday Morning Prayer" events, or "Christian Fun Night" and the like.

Really?

No. Fucking REALLY?

I had to vent to a friend about it, but eventually decided it would be pointless to reply, and deleted all the emails associated with it, to fight the temptation; it'd be pointless to attempt to hold a conversation with someone so uptight and closed-minded.

I just can't imagine that someone would go to the trouble to be so offended about that. Please, feel free to post a Christian Fun Night, or a Muslim Fun Night, or a trip to the Gay Pride Parade, or a Seance, or a Rave, or a NRA member's Boys Night Out at the gun range. Guess what? I'll ignore it if it's not for me. It's an open group; anyone (who is an Organizer) can post anything they want. I don't belong to a gay singles group, a Christian prayer group, or an American Idol groupie group. Because they don't apply to me. It's not as though there aren't a million things that I see every day online, in the news, in the paper, that should offend me. I decided to completely ignore the existence of the Red Eye, because every single time I've ever opened it, I'm annoyed by the utter tripe it spews. Because I don't care about Britney's blah-blah or Bradgelinaffer's baby dramarama. Who fucking cares? Not me, so I move on. I ignore it. And I'm better off.

Guess what? You don't have the right to not be offended, at every goddamn turn. Sure, there are blatantly offensive things that are said, every day. And yes, some of them are things you should point out and say something about. Words do hurt, and language can have power in how we use that tool. Geraldine Ferraro said some things that were pretty offensive about Barack Obama. And his camp was offended. And she was let go. That's something to be offended about.

But this? This is pretty fucking tame. You don't dig it? Move the fuck on. Shut the fuck up. Stop being so thin-skinned and realize, for just a moment, that you live in a world composed of billions of people, most of whom have nothing in common with you. Get over yourself. If you find what's on television offensive to your tender sensibilities- change the channel. If the newspaper is filled with things that bother you- don't read it. If there are movies filled with violence and sex and cursing, don't see them. Guess what- your specific bubble offends ME. And guess what? I don't fucking go there.

See ya at the show, bitches.


Postscript:
In an odd coincidence, the same day I received the emails above, I was removed as an organizer from completely different Meetup (where I'd posted this event, and where I'd also posted it, months ago). I'm sure the two have nothing to do with one another; I've been glitch-ily removed as an organizer before, without warning or reason. This is likely more of the same. I just couldn't help but connect the two in my mind, even though I know correlation simply doesn't equal causation. Ah, good ol' Sociology 101- I knew you'd come in handy someday.

Carrots.

Wow, looks like it's been a couple weeks since I updated this blog. I'd say that it's because I've been busy, but it's really not true. Sheer laziness.

I had my party a few weeks ago, and recovered from it. Myrna, one of the newest Meetup folks, dropped me a line and let me know she was interested in throwing a party of the same ilk. Excellent, thought I, and promptly set to helping her with all the little details thereof. Of course, I did as I always do and went overboard on details, as did she, but it made for a really nice party. We made eggrolls, drank, and watched movies. About 60 people crammed into her parents' place, and a good time was had by all.

---

I've been having a hard time sleeping lately. Usually, I like to get my lazy ass up early and hit the gym, so I feel better throughout the day, and so I have no end-of-day excuse to not work out. I've been missing it the past week or so, because I sleep later than I intend, and haven't gotten to sleep nearly as quickly as I'd like. Stress? I'm not sure.

Maybe it's because I've been staring at a computer screen all day long (work has been incredibly slow this week, and while I like my job, it's a pain in the ass when it's slow. I'd rather be insane-busy with near-mandatory overtime than have absolutely nothing to do.), and when I get home I plunk down in front of the computer and watch episodes of whatever TV show I'm catching up on (finished season 1 of Dark Angel, and working my way through season 2 of Alias- oh, what, oh what will that Rambaldi have done next?). I'm sure that's not helping.

Maybe it's the mouse I saw in the house. Not kidding. The furnace crapped out a couple weeks ago, and our landlord (promptly, I will say, which is a point in his favor) got a repairman out to fix and then completely replace the furnace. What he neglected to tell me was that they saw a mouse (attracted, no doubt, by the remains of the party I'd yet to completely clean up) around, and that they'd likely had the front door to the apartment open all day. So I'm sitting on the couch one night watching some show or other, and what should my eyes appear but a little skittering rodent making its way across my living room floor, bathed in the Dirty Jobs light.

I, of course, manly man I am, decided it needed to be stomped to death, and promptly smashed it with my first, waving it triumphantly in the air and smearing its blood on my cheeks, as a warning to other rodents.

Like hell. I screamed, "what the fuck?!?!" and jumped on top of the couch like a housewife in a Tom & Jerry cartoon. It skittered back under the coffeetable, then under the couch. As I sought around for something to hit it with or cover it with or... whatever, it ran into the kitchen.

Suffice it to say, I spent the rest of the night not quite enjoying my television, and listening for skittering mice. When I did finally see it again (actually, it took a few times of seeing it before I figured it out), I had a pot in hand, cornered it in the bathroom, and when it came darting out, I tried to drop the pot onto it, and hit it. A screeching mouse is not a pleasant sound. It dove into a hole in the wall behind our washer, and was gone.

After I informed our landlord of the problem, he put down some traps and poison, and yesterday I found our little friend with his neck neatly snapped. But for the whole week before, every sound I heard, every rustle of a leaf outside my bedroom window... sounded like some rodent coming to get me. Stupid, I know, but hey, that's how my brain works at 3 in the morning.

Why do I share this? Because if I have to wake up in the night to every little sound, so do you, dear reader.

---

My Carrot
I was heading to pick up my final paycheck from my temp agency a couple weeks back, and I noticed a sign for CareerBuilder at a bus stop. It said, "Dangle Your Own Carrot". It struck me as intriguing, for whatever reason. Were I of a Facebook-tool-making mind, I'd be inclined to turn that into something interesting for others to use.

But, seeing as how I'm not, I've considered getting myself a corkboard and mounting a carrot (for some reason, it's a shiny painted steel carrot, in my head) on it. Maybe hanging it somewhere prominent in my room, so I see it when I wake up in the morning.

On this corkboard, I'd mount images of things I want. Carrots. If I had the architectural sketch my friend Mike made for me, years ago, of the ideal improv theater space, I'd hang that on there. I'd hang a photo of me, built like a bronze statue. A stainless steel fridge. A new TV. Contact lenses. Nice clothes. Stuff I'm aiming for.

On the flip side of the corkboard would be (I guess, since it completes the dichotomy) my sticks. A real photo of me, to get my ass to the gym. (though I was given the unsolicited compliment by two different women at Myrna's party that I "look much better than" my photos reveal. Nice ego-boost, but y'know, you still want to get in better shape). Photos of real things in my life that need fixing.

I dunno, the second part sounds a little less inspiring.

---

Punishment Gluttony
Having helped Myrna with her party, I embarked upon the next set of planning, for more parties. I must have a screw loose, or I simply need to get all the Theatre Momentum ducks in a row, because I've got some sort of party-planning itch I've been scratching lately.

I, cheap bastard I can be, started a new meetup called "Free & Cheap Culture & Night Life". While admittedly, this is a not-so-transparent excuse for me to post stuff about WiP and TM and the like, it's also a good place to post other events, and to keep myself from spending an arm and a leg to go out. As one of the Assistant Organizers put it, "It's expensive to go out in Chicago!"

Already, though, I posted a "Gloriously Bad Movie Night", which will likely become a more regular thing (and for which I need go buy a new [used] bigger TV), and a two-parter party comprising a "Finger Food Potluck" and a "Mixer Party"- the latter being a party in which I teach people how to mix drinks.

I swear, I must be off my bolt.

---

TM...
I love Theatre Momentum. It's just the sort of company I've always wanted to be in charge of. I write about it constantly, so I'm sure ya already know that.

Well, we've been on a bit of a break the past few months, and we're finally looking to get things going. No, for serious. I put out feelers to the original cast of Fugue to see who wanted to remount the show, and so far 5 out of the 8 have said yes, with one being unreachable so far, and two stepping out (two who I will dearly miss, since I had a great chemistry with them- the best scenes I did during the run were with them). But, it's in motion.

I had a meeting at the Bailiwick to see about renting their space for the showcases and a remount of Fugue, and for generally just making their space our new home. Though there will, of course, be obstacles, the opportunity arose to more or less take over their loft space, which will be a nice break in rent from what we paid last year, and which will give us quite a chance to make a space our own. Still talking right now, though- nothing is set in stone. Hell, aside from Fugue, we still don't even know what shows we're going to mount yet.

When I was talking with the Bailiwick rep about the space, it sounded lie we'd need to put in some basic lights to light the space. Kismet! I met someone the week before who told me he was looking to get rid of some old instruments he had from when he worked lights. Maybe the gods of theatre are shining down on us, for once.

Meeting with Don this week to talk about show forms we've come up with, and gotta get things in motion with directors, auditions, rehearsals, etc. So much to do, but I apparently need that production-y fix. As much as I absolutely love performing and directing, I think there's something innate in me that just loves so very much when a plan comes together. The more complicated the plan, the bigger the fix. And more and more, the shows we're developing in WiP are just begging to be produced. Don put it well the other day when he told me that he'd stack up most of the WiP regulars against just about anyone, performance-wise. It's a good group. They need an outlet. Gotta get the ball rolling.

---

Gotta get back to work now. Gotta make a carrot cake tonight (for serious, not being ironic), buy some new pillows (for comfy sleeping), and hit the gym in the morning.

Hippo V-D Two Ewes

Yeah, okay, that doesn't work.

Anyone else tired of Valentine's Day already? I've been at work half a day so far, and there's been two women here who've received flowers. M'kay. Walking through the pedway, I saw about two dozen messengers wandering with floral arrangements and obvious V-Day deliveries.

This is a holiday men get screwed on, 9 times out of 10.

I guess the typical male ignores his girlfriend most of the time, spends more time watching football than with her, and doesn't have the word "romantic" in his vocabulary. So, on those occasions (tally these up, gents): Valentine's Day, Sweetest Day, birthday, Christmas, anniversary, and (depending) Mother's Day- he's got to be Extra Special Uber-Romance Man.

Because he's a fucking dolt the rest of the year.
Women, it's expected, are to get their guy something for birthday and Christmas. Okay, that's equitable. Let's add anniversary to that, because that should be important. And I'll even drop Father's Day into that.

But Valentine's Day? Sweetest Day? Please. You see no commercials about what to get your guy for V-Day. Not a one.

This holiday is such a waste of energy. When I'm in a relationship, if I see something I know my girlfriend would enjoy, I get it for her. Just because. It has nothing to do with a holiday (though I do give pretty sweet-ass birthday/Christmas presents). The last time I actually traded Valentine's Day gifts with someone, it was (ironically enough) a week after she'd broken up with me (for asking her to be my "official" girlfriend, no less). The gifts? From me, Gremlins 1 and 2 (she absolutely loves those movies, and despised V-Day). And for me, a graphic novel by Neil Gaiman (who we both enjoyed).

Maybe it's that I rarely have a girlfriend on Valentine's Day. The last time was about three years ago, and last Valentine's Day, I'd only recently broken up with my girlfriend at the time.

Who knows. I still think men get screwed on this holiday, but it might be because, by and large, we're idiots to women.

Be nice to the women in your lives, gentlemen! Make it easier on the rest of us, so we can end this destructive conflict and bring order... wait.

So when we say V-Day, all future generations will think of is WWII.

---

Edited to add:

I take it back!
I received a mini-Twizzlers Pull n' Peel from a coworker. A woman. It all balances out.
That's all we ask for. A simple Pull n' Peel:



Thank you.

I love it when a plan comes together...

This weekend, I had a day-long party at my apartment. No one got shot, no one puked on the couch, and a good time was had by all. Big mess to clean up afterwards, but that's to be expected.

I'd been planning this party for a few weeks, and was almost worried that the nearly 200 people who were planning to show up would actually show. I think we had 60 people in the place, at the height of the party. Just right. In the early afternoon, I hosted a CD/DVD swap, in which I managed to get a few cool DVDs, and from which I have several leftover CDs that people just left (neat). Then, it was a pizza party, for which I'd spent hours earlier in the week prepping dough and ingredients, and from which about 20 excellent pizzas were born. Then it was a karaoke party, for which I'd also spent hours, culling through a few thousand songs for worthwhile stuff, and for which my voice was already completely gone by the time I busted out my scratchy version of Robbie Williams' "Let Me Entertain You".

Suffice it to say, I'm beat. Aside from a couple hours I'd managed to snag in naps, I was up for about 26 hours Saturday, a good portion of it running about playing host. While I hate that I didn't get to mingle as much as I'd've liked, I do love it when something I've put together goes off well. The party was successful, I managed to make some new friends, and it made for a nice weekend. I found a few people mentioning, "I hear you're in theatre," and I realized I'd not talked about that to anyone most of the night (this is a good thing; usually it's, "Say, stranger, tell me about yourself. Interesting... [question] [answer][question]. Oh, me? I do theatre, and [ramble, ramble, ramble]...") This time, I barely mentioned it all night, and whenever I did, it felt like a welcome burst of something new, not the obligatory party dialogue. I even got a few people interested in WiP and TM, so that makes me happy, too.

Funny thing, most people told me how "brave" it was of me to have so many people over. I didn't really think that was the word for it. I like company and making new friends.

I think a big part of what I love about producing theatre is the same feeling I get when a party has gone well. That sense that all the pieces were put in place just right, and now I can just watch things fall into place. I want more of that. Feels good. Feels real good.

---

TM is finally prepping some new things. We're cleaning up some things from last year, and trying to choose what shows we'll work on this year. Henri and I had a short chat about TM stuff on Sunday (I had to skip WiP altogether- I was pretty much dead on my feet. Still am, really), and we got to talking about a sci-fi show I'd wanted to work on forever ago, but had no company to work with. It was too complex and involved to run in WiP, but upon further discussion, it seemed like he and I were on the same page. TM has to evolve, just like WiP has evolved, and if that means that some shows that are in the TM aesthetic get produced outside the WiP—>Showcase—>TM regular show process, then so be it. Henri mentioned wanting to work on some Commedia pieces with Cult of the Stage Monkey (his company), and how he'd been in touch with R. Kevin Doyle from Loose Screws in Hawaii (one of my favorite shows ever will always be their "Screwbuki". Artfully executed and damned fun.) about some elements they use in their shows. These are things I've wanted to incorporate into TM works, but haven't figured out how to make work. It's much more involved to work on Commedia than WiP has the scope to handle (right now, anyhow).

Things are evolving. I dropped my tech gigs, and now have time and freedom enough to get involved elsewhere. Yay, that.

This post has rambled. My eyes are blurry, and it's the middle of the day. I think I need to crash out when I get home, and not wake up again till Thursday.

Sunny disposition.

I saw a guy this morning with Ash Wednesday ash on his forehead. All I can ever think when I see that is that Ash Wednesday = an advertising coup for the early Catholic Church. Akin to flair on your TGI Fridays waitress: "Ask me about our jalepeno poppers!"

Random thought:
Escalators are to escalate your movement up the stairs. It's even in the name. What's needed is a homeless person, hired by the CTA, whose entire job it is to stand behind people at the bottom of the unmoving escalator queue and say, "if you don't start moving forward soon, I can't be held responsible for my actions. Pass it on." If/when it gets to the top of the line, it'll be so far removed from a threat of physical violence, but by then, the line is moving.

Control, control, you must learn control! Bah.
I recently was watching an episode of "The Universe" on the History Channel, and it showed some graphic renderings of what would happen should the Earth be hit by a gamma ray burst from a star going supernova (something that happens with apparent frequency, though given the vastness of the galaxy, the chances are pretty slim we'll get hit anytime soon). The intensity of the burst would instantly vaporize those in its path, and burn off the entire ozone layer. Within minutes, millions would be dead; with days, the entire planet. And there is no defense (unlike comet or asteroid collisions, apparently, though how they're watching the entire sky to see them coming, given NASA's limited budget, is beyond me). We'd be dead. Period. It's a touch more intense than the "a car could hit you in the crosswalk, so live for today" mentality.

There are things in the world we can't control. I can't control when the train is late. Or if it's freezing outside. Or if the store is out of my favorite cheese. So why get bent out of shape about it? I have control over a limited number of things in my life. If I focus my energy on those, and don't let the stuff I can't control get to me, won't life be sweeter?

Lately, I've been going back to the gym. Starting to see some results, feeling pretty good. Maybe that coupled with the new situation at work has been a bit of a catalyst for me to generally have a better outlook on things (simple things like being allowed to wear jeans any day of the week does wonders for morale, let me tell ya. And being useful and needed in the workplace is pretty damned sweet, too).

But I've found myself... I dunno, smiling more. It sounds ridiculous, and it almost sounds like I grabbed a page from "The Secret"- which premise I find completely bunk; you don't simply get good things by putting good out there- you have to *do* something as well. But the attitude is helpful. Just generally having a more positive outlook has made it a lot easier to deal with people, to get that kind smile from the pretty girl on the subway, strike up conversations with people, get along with my boss (which has oddly become considerably smoother, now that I'm a regular employee and she has to rely on me a lot more). I've read reports here and there that claim, if you're feeling down, fake feeling happy, and your mind won't know the difference. I think that's a load of crap, but I do know I've felt better the past few days, overall. Genuinely, not just faking it.

Maybe it's just taking my vitamins every day (or the placebo effect thereof). Who knows.


If it rains, I shall be wet. If the sun shines, I will dry. And all the while, a great wind blows. — paraphrase of a quote from someone whose name I can't recall.


Oh, by the by, I updated a ton of my links. I'm sure I'll post something or other about them when I have more time to do so. Check 'em out; enjoy.

An odd week.

FINALLY.
I got the offer this week, at work. Took 'em long enough. I went into the meeting Monday thinking that, while I'd not likely get it, I'd start the salary negotiation high (about 20% more than I currently make), and work down to what I'm comfortable with. I had an arsenal of things to say to prove my worth:

• I was making more money [although not much more, enough to qualify as "more"] at my previous job, in which I did considerably less than I do here.
• Cost of living has gone up since my last job was phased out.
• I do more at this job than anyone else who's previously worked it.
• My job has expanded, even in the short time I've been here, and there's talk of it expanding more.

I tossed out the salary number, and my boss didn't even blink. It struck her as perfectly reasonable. Hot dog, thought I.

Then she tells me:
"I should tell you, though S___ might be resigning. She got an offer that yada-yada's her blah-blah (can't go into specifics, dear reader), and I thought you should know that."

S___ is my supervisor. Now, I like her, and we have a certain rapport I haven't had with previous supervisors, and we work well together. But, like I told my boss, "well, that can happen to anyone at any time, so..."
And besides, I gotta eat.

Anyhow, S___ did end up resigning. The next day, in fact. And, given the nature of her job, she had to leave that same day. Very awkward, all around. I was talking with out-of-the-loop folks in the office, and they were saying S___ was going to work on thus-and-so for this project, and how they'd sent her an email about -blah-. So, that was interesting. I helped her to her car with a bunch of boxes and bags and such and gave her a hug, and joked with her about how I'd peeked in the boss's office that morning, after her resignation and told her, "yeah, I'm gonna need more money." She inquired how much I'd settled on, salary-wise, and when I told her, she scoffed and said, "Oh, you could've gotten X [35% more than I'd been making]. Don't you stay at Y for too long."
And then I got a nice little bonus, on top of that, which I understand is pretty much par for the course.

Color me happy. Yes, it really sucks that my supervisor no longer works at my office. But, I got a nice raise, a bonus, and a promising future of more of the same. Plus, every day is jeans day, and I'm the DJ for DJ Friday today. :)

---

Other than that, I've been plotting and planning for the party next weekend. I don't know why I do it to myself, but I have a hard time throwing small parties. I've got a CD-swap thing going, then a pizza party, then a karaoke party. Insanity? Sure. Did I give myself plenty of time to clean up and prepare? Sure. Have I? Fuck no.

---

Also in the works is me dropping a ton of tech work. I stopped doing tech, pretty much across the board. Tonight is my last night doing tech for Improvised Shakespeare. I did it for about a year, and I found that Blaine was ignoring my email because he was "heartbroken". I almost wish last weekend had been my last, because it was nice to get the comment from Rachael Mason that I "pulled sweetness" on the lights last Friday. And it was a good night, lighting-wise. I'll miss doing the lights, but it'll mean I can take my Fridays and actually get out to *see* some shows, rather than just running the boards for them.

---

I haven't talked with the entire gang from Fugue in a while. I wanna clean up some financial nonsense and see if they're interested in remounting. I miss playing with them all. It was a special time, a special show, a special group, and even if we can capture the smallest iota of what we had, it's worth it to me.

A fine line between smart and smart-ass

I was at WiP last week (shameless plug, check), and had one of those "Tony goes off on a rant because his brain is too full of new and useless knowledge" scenes. I whipped off a rant about Monk being an anarthrous noun (look it up), something I only recently learned the definition of- thank you, Language Log (another "strong" noun), in the midst of a diatribe about extrasolar planets. Too much Discovery Channel. Now I fear our ozone being burnt off by errant gamma ray bursts. Not really, but you see where I'm comin' from.

Anyhow, this prompted another WiP'er to comment, "he's smart..." to someone there. Now, being the precise brand of prick I am, I'll never turn down a compliment on my intelligence. But my first thought was, "that's no measure of my intelligence- I only just barely know what it means." The fact that I'd only recently learned it made me think that it was somehow "lesser" intelligence than other aspects of my brainpower.

But it got me to thinking about intelligence, talent, creativity, and memory.

---

I recently read a story about a man who could remember very nearly every moment in his life.

I can't imagine what that's like. The closest I can think of to feeling like that is that I have (or rather, had- seems to have slipped away, the less textbooks I read) a near-photographic memory. It's not an eidetic memory, but when I was in school, I'd read pages of text, and could picture, on recall, where specific paragraphs of text were located on the page. It was especially easy when there were photos on the page, for some reason. It was odd, is all. Now, closest I have to that skill is an uncanny ability to recall faces (though names... sheesh, horrible).

Now, is Brad Williams smart than me because he can remember more?

---

I used to bandy about the idea that we use only 10% of our brain capacity, a concept that none other than Stephen Jay Gould personally disabused me of (I once wrote, but never sent, a long letter to him, detailing how I thought aliens of the Communion variety looked oddly like they could be our ancestors. Glad I never sent it. What a moron you were, Younger Me.). This was something explored in the good-on-the-cover/lame-on-the-inside tome Neanderthal as an interesting (but poorly written) manner in which Neanderthals could have developed telepathy. And I've seen more than one sci-fi movie/tv show use it as the basis for some forced-evolution nonsense in which a principle character suddenly gains either massive intellect or ESP or telepathy or telekinesis, or what have you. I believe it was the premise behind The 4400 (one of my favorites), and John Doe (one I desperately wanted to be awesome).

Regardless, that percentage is bunk, like so many well-known "facts", like Eskimo language, and women speaking 20 times more than men, or brain size differences in men and women (men do, on average, have larger brains, by the by- but as a ratio of brain::body mass, it's almost identical). Al Gore never said he invented the internet. I'm sure I can think of some more, but I'd digress (which can be seen as a serious lack of my intellect).

---

How do you quantify intelligence? Neurons firing? Capacity for language? Immense vocabulary? Memory recall?

Hell, chimpss can beat us in memory recall. If you haven't seen the video by now...

But that's eidetic memory. We get language. We traded off instant recall for the ability to say stuff to each other, build roads, and Taco Bell.

Of course, Koko can say stuff as fluently as Helen Keller could. Who's smarter?

---

And then there's the "intelligence" of computers. They have perfect recall, and AI's are getting better and better. So... will they ever be smarter than humans?

Is the Turing test even an accurate gauge?

Moore 's law shows that we'll probably get increasingly complex computer in an increasingly short period of time- and this applies to most technology. In my lifetime, we went from tape to disc to MP3, from Beta to VHS to DVD to BlueRay. I'm not even 32. Things that were science fiction in my parent's generation are science fact in mine. Will there be androids roaming the streets of Chicago in 20 years? Would I even know?

God, when did this blog become a techno-geek link-fest?

---

Since we are the arbiters of what constitutes intellect, we can make our own definitions.

I know plenty of "smart" people. Not someone who could hold their own against Big Blue, or converse with Stephen Hawking about quarks... but people I respect, who have certain abilities, often ones I do not.

I consider them intelligent. Or intellectuals (which, to me, is little more than what we brainy-types like to call ourselves to locate more of our ilk or spotlight the fact that we're so much smarter than you- we're very insecure. I blame home school).

I once dated a woman who, in addition to being extraordinarily intelligent, she had this intelligence/skill/ability to make everyone around her perfectly at ease. Everyone absolutely loved her (though it was sometimes mistaken for flirting; c'est la vie). It wasn't that she was always sunshine and roses- that gets obnoxious quick- but she just fit in well under lots of circumstances, and made friends easily. To me, that's a type of intelligence.

Don Hall, who coaches WiP, has a specific outlook/skill set/knack for taking in the rambling discussions we go through in a workshop, and turning them into a workable longform. Even on my best days, I don't yet have that skill, try as I might. And it's particular to him and a handful of others. Is that intelligence? Is it creativity? Is it merely experience, and I, too, will, with cynical aplomb, hold the same ability, ten years down the line?

My best friend from Cincy was one of those people who, were he not such a nice guy, you'd absolutely hate. He taught himself piano, and composes his own beautiful new age music. He picked up a camera one day and decided he wanted to learn, and 6 months later was working for a prominent wedding photographer. He has an excellent voice, an eye for graphic design, taught himself how to draft architectural drawings (he's finally going to school for it), and can build models so well that he worked in LA for about two years, making quite a good buck at it. Suffice it to say, he's talented, and his brain works in ways that most people's don't. So... is he smart? Smarter than me, or Don, or my ex?

I read Lolita a few years ago, and though the language wasn't lost on me (yet again, another arbitrary measure of intellect: vocabulary. Sheesh.), a decent number of the literary references were. Since I wanted to enjoy the book rather than constantly put it down to search for some obscure reference, I took what I could and gleaned what I could from the context (much as I used to gain new vocabulary, a practice that's not always so successful). While I'd not argue that Nabokov is considerably smarter than me, what makes it so? Language? Reference? Experience? These are all things I can pick up, given the desire. Talent? Not so much something you can pick up, though something you can hone.

---

I have no idea. Alls I know is I know nothing. I think Socrates said that. :)

And getting into a complicated discussion of it is certainly beyond the scope of this blog (I'm no scientist, and this is already overlong). But it does make me realize that, like playing with people who are better at billiards than you strengthens your own game, it's always a good idea to surround yourself with people who are smarter than you. Be that in person, on TV, in books, in movies, on the radio. Surround yourself with brilliance, stand on the shoulders of giants, keep your feet on the ground but keep reaching for the stars.

Random SCIENCE!

In the future, video game plays you!

Er, something like that.
Creepy circuit-board contact lenses...

I'm more of the mind to use it to remember facts about people/places/cheat on tests than for anything "useful". What? Either way, it goes into the category of "I want one". I've already decided I'm getting contacts later this year. Maybe these are the way to go. Think they come in air-permeable?

---

FAME! I'm gonna live forever.
Remind me about these things when I get old, because I'm sure I'll forget:

This is simultaneously inspiring and frightening. It's brilliant to keep the architecture of the heart and replace the DNA itself. I have no idea how the process works, but from the looks of it, it's akin to opening every window in your house and flooding the place till every single thing but the walls is gone. Then the new folks move in.

Something like that. Remind me to get one when my heart gives out, 30, 40 years from now. I'm pretty sure there's some heart disease in my family tree (adopted, see. Vague recollection of a paper detailing my family tree's genealogical disease patterns is about all I've got to go on). I just find it amazing that the heart started beating on its own.




That, some serious nanotech (which isn't nearly so sci-fi as it was 20 years ago), the laser that can kill yer viruses, and a water bottle that can make drinkable water from sewage- these things give me hope.

---

Naps = Good

Told you fuckers.

Leave me alone. I need my 15 minutes today.

I take at least one nap every day, usually around lunchtime (we have a telephone closet here at work that is my nap-spot of choice), and sometimes right after I get home. Charges me up for the rest of the day/night/whatever. It's odd how we forget something we learned in kindergarten, just because we're a bit older. I'd think you'd want *more* naptime, the older you got- you're doing more every day. I know I do a lot more now than I ever did when I was 6. Don't I deserve a break?

---

This:
Artificial life likely in 3 to 10 Years
and this:








...make me hopeful for the future of space exploration. It's the sci-fi geek in me.

I want it, so bad. What I think is interesting is that, if we were (or when we are) capable of near-light-speed travel (yes, yes, huge amounts of energy, energy requirements growing at an exponential rate...), we'd at least have a clue where to point the ship. We can garner, to some extent, and idea what a planet's composition is. And if we can do it, that means other intelligent life in the universe may be capable of it, as well, if they're out there (I'm hopeful). Yeah, the universe is a big place, and who knows how unique our circumstances are. But there's a few things that make me hopeful.

Life thrives. Anaerobic bacteria can exist without oxygen. Plants survive on CO2. Gills make it possible for billions of creatures to exist in our vast oceans. So, given how diverse life is on our planet, who's to say that life didn't evolve somewhere else in the galaxy life could have developed that survives on anything, and in any form we can imagine. And the universe is pretty damned old. If circumstances had been slightly different at various stages of Earth's development as a planet, maybe we'd be reaching this level of development a million years ago- a mere moment in the cosmic scheme of things.

And no, I have no idea, outside of watching too much Discovery Channel or flipping through too many fascinating websites, why I'm pondering on these things so much lately. I haven't the scientific knowledge or education to properly comprehend them fully, nor have I a scientific bent as an individual. I just dig it. So there.

---

Of course, while it's interesting, this has me scared in a "computers rising up to kill their masters" sort of way...

Brain in a dish flies an flight simulator...
I think the fascination for me is that the human brain is so complex that using human brains, we may never fully be able to comprehend it. Damned if that'll stop us from trying, though, eh?

---

Money can't buy everything, it's true...
What it don't buy, I can't use...
Hah. I've been getting calls from my temp agency. Sounds like my company is finally going to make me an offer. That sounds better, somehow, than "add you to the payroll". The former sounds like I can make a counter-offer, maybe get a nice little bump in pay, generally end up better, salary-wise, than now. Y'know, good stuff. I worked a job a few years ago as a temp, and they really wanted to hire me on, but for quite a decrease in pay, citing "really great benefits package" as what would balance it out. Yeah, benefits are nice and all, but I certainly don't want to make *less* than I make as a temp. Of course, they were a non-profit with limited finances. This company does just fine. We mailed out Dom Perignon for Christmas, for cryin' out loud. I think they can give me a nice raise.

The latter sounds like "nothing will change but who signs your paycheck."

My boss asked me if I was comfortable with the temp agency knowing what my salary would be, saying they'd probably use it for "bragging purposes", she said, "like, 'Tony got hired, and made 25% more salary..." I know that number is significantly ridiculous, but even the fact that she'd drop 25% off the top of her head makes me optimistic. I like my workplace, most of the time, which is not something I can say of most of my past jobs. It'd be sweet to have a decent paycheck to attach to that.

And I recently quit a handful of tech gigs, so I can have my freakin' weekends back.

In other news, I don't think I'll ever be able to figure out how to format this damned blog. Sheesh!

---

Food good. Eat food.

I was doing the StumbleUpon thing the other day, partly so I could search for networking sites on which to promote WiP (yes, I'm a shameless promotional whore. Welcome to my world), and I came across a fun little website, 5Min, a "videopedia", as it calls itself.

Now, I've always said, everyone's an "expert" at *something*. I've never sorted out how you could do it, but I've thought of setting up a network of skill bartering- I teach you how to make the perfect cheesecake, you teach me some yoga. Or I teach Bob how to do accents, he teaches Jen how to winterize her doors and windows, and she teaches me how to make risotto. Not sure how that'd work. Maybe it's a "group class" sort of thing. No idea, and someone's already probably thought it up.

This is a bit along those lines, but in video form, and in 5 minutes. Cute concept, and I'm sure I'll be back to the site. One of the videos I looked at was "how to make sage butter". I thought, m'kay, I've made garlic and cinnamon butters, how is this any different? Melt butter, add stuff, heat, and go. Not complicated. But this was how to make it from scratch- essentially how to churn butter in a tupperware container. Neat, simple, and something I might one day try, just to say I've done it (like gambling- done it once, lost my $10 after having won $5, and that was the end of that).

Anyhow, what amused/perplexed me about it was the comment that came just after:

"Is there any way to make a reduced fat version? Not all of us can stand to put
on more pounds from butter!"

Now, I get that it's a good idea to keep your cholesterol and fat intake down, and that eating mounds of butter isn't always the best thing. I get that for some, their diet is seriously restricted out of medical necessity. But I've tried the method of "replace everything bad in my fridge with something good for me". It stinks. It sucks all the joy out of food. I don't want to eat a pizza that's "good for me". If I'm eating pizza, I want it to have all the richest ingredients I can muster. I'm not interested in eating lowfat ice cream, or soy turkey. Yech.

I say this as my muscles ache from a morning workout, a bowl recently full of oatmeal lies in the trash, and I check up on the RSVP's for my pizza party. It's a fine balance, I think. I will cop to having overindulged more than my fair share, in both the food and the drinky-drink. And I've felt like ass afterwards, certainly. That's not a lifestyle that's healthy. But going overboard the other way just can't be healthy, and I don't mean in cholesterol/body mass index/LDL sort of way.

If I were to stress out over every calorie I eat, I'd never enjoy food again. But if I eat like a normal person, and every now and again get myself a Chipotle burrito, or nosh on some candy- not only am I more likely to *really* enjoy it, but I'm more likely to buy stuff that's a little higher quality than your standard fast food fare. I'm not depriving myself and gorging. I'm eating normally, and treating myself. Maybe it's all perspective.

I will never bake you a cheesecake that's made with lowfat cheese, margarine, Splenda, or egg substitute. If I ever claim I will... it's not me. Shoot me and look for the microchip.

If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine...

My best friend from back home, when we worked out together, used to posit that the human body is the only thing [that he could think of] that, the more you try to break it down, the stronger it becomes. While I'm not going to argue that logic- the philosophies you espouse under the barbell of a Smith Machine are seldom those that would hold up under close scrutiny. He's also the purveyor of the winsome "must punish the body for being small!" outlook which I've taken on (paraphrased, as "weak" or "doughy" is the crime for which I mete out auto-corporal punishment).

But I can't help but be reminded, whenever I work out (which I've done more and more in the past couple weeks- aiming for [but seldom hitting the mark of] 6 days a week of workouts has been a good endeavor for me, so far. Soon, hopefully, the punishment shift to the crime of smallness.) of how much building muscle is a process of destruction. Stretch and rip the muscle fibers, so they can, like scar tissue building up over the place I scraped my elbow after that bicycle accident, cover the break. It's an amazing process, really. I guess that's why I only feel like I've done a real workout if I hurt a little the next day (major hurting just makes me realize it's been too many days since I last hit the gym, or I've pulled something the wrong way- which happens less and less, now that I'm a more frequent visitor of the Smith Machine and know what I'm doing).

Anyhow, last night I was at home, and stepped out of my room for a second. The door was open partway, and I'd bent down to pick something up off the floor, and when I stood back up, banged my left bicep into the doorknob. I believe the noise I let out was something akin to what a cow would make if you were to chloroform it, mid-moo. Hurt like a bitch. And stupid me, it was my cluttered room shoving the door back on me. It's a clue, people. Messy bedroom strikes back. Maybe time to clean?

While it hurt, I wasn't hurt too badly. But I woke up this morning hurting almost exactly as I hurt when I've worked out hard. And the bicep is swollen just like it'd be after a workout- pumped up, not a bruised-and-swollen sort of thing.

Just weird, is all. Had to share. Can't help but mentally follow the logical course- that a good workout just equals beating up the individual muscles. Rather than doing squats, just bang your quads into the counter 10 times- 3 sets of ten. And to work the trapezius, slam your shoulders into the doorframe, sets of 12, 10, and 8. Remember to exhale as you slam. Punch yourself in the stomach everyday, though. The abdominal muscles need to be worked out more often than most muscles.
*slug* (oof.)

Back to the gym tomorrow (today I hurt too bad, so I must make up for it by doing a full-body workout tomorrow).

The working out has been good, though. I've been noticing small changes in the way things are put together, and have been asked by more than one person if I've lost weight, or was told I'm looking more in-shape.

If I go back and look at my older blogs, I find that this is a trend I've seen before. Sheer laziness has caused me to drift away from a proper routine. Stupid lazy bum. Maybe keeping better track of stuff will keep me more on track. Who knows.

Movies.

I posted earlier about the awesome solar-power tech that's grown in recent years. It reminded me about a movie trailer I saw for "Sunshine", directed by Danny Boyle, who did "28 Days Later", which I dug.
But I'm disinclined, having seen the trailers for it, to rent or see Sunshine.



I'm sorry... "reignite the sun"? Okay, two things. One, it's not going to burn out anytime soon. Not for at least a billion years, probably more, at which point, if we've not died out already or moved to other planets, we'll have evolved a lot. M'kay?

Two, it's a nuclear fusion reactor. Not your fucking barbeque. You don't "reignite" a nuclear fusion reactor. You just... don't. It's not a ball of flame. It's a ball of plasma. You just... I... I don't get it. Maybe they're thinking of dropping a nuke into it? Um... what?

I think I might have to watch it to see if it's one of those few movies that's bad enough that it laps itself and becomes good. But, it doesn't quite look Hudson Hawk -esque enough for my tastes.



These are the movies I love. So bad they're good. Can't think of any more off the top o' my head, but I'm sure I'll post them later.

---

Here, have some nice videos:


I blame Dennis for this:



and this:



And Don for this:



I have no one but myself to blame for these, though.





Good times.

Geeking out.

I get my geek on about science. It's true. I've watched a few episodes of "The Universe" on the Discovery Channel, and got all giddy when I learned about how scientists discovered that there are other planets out there (incredibly fast and gigantic ones, from what they've discovered, though those might just be the easiest to spot). I knew all about the "wobble" effect, but to see it explained (by some cute tattooed hipster fire dancing astronomer chick, no less) in so many words got me really riled up. I have no idea why- it's not like this was fresh news to me.

But I thought it was pretty fucking sweet to see how much science has advanced in the past 20 years. Astronomers used to laugh at people who figured there were planets beyond our solar system (really, seriously.). And I geek out on How It's Made, Modern Marvels, Mythbusters, Man vs. Wild (Bear is a fucking beast, and I always feel bad for his camaraman), and Good Eats.

Anyhow, I've done more than my fair share of putzing about on StumbleUpon, and it's come across some seriously cool techno-goodies that get my giddy up. But prominent among those goodies seems to be a plethora of environmentally-friendly items that get working that part of my brain that once fancied itself a sci-fi novelist. Seems we're closer and closer to such a place, though I can't fathom how we'll get there from here, with the current geopolitical climate.

N.B. - I am in no way an environmentalist. These are just things I find extremely cool.

---

I've seen a number of postings online about "plug-in hybrids", and frankly, these worry me. Yes, the advent of the hybrid car is a boon to the ecology of the planet. And the electric car becoming a reality- that's spectacular. But… the energy has to come from someplace. Just because we're not spewing the carbon monoxide directly from the tailpipe doesn't mean that some coal factory isn't spewing tons of it into the air miles down the road, just to generate more energy for those shiny new cars.

What is a little cooler is the hydrogen cell cars that I've been seeing ads for...



Now, yeah, people've cried "what about the Hindenburg???" which is a load of bunk. Move on. The Hindenburg was practically covered in fuel, with the coating it had. It was bound to ignite. If it'd been just the hydrogen, it'd have burnt up differently (Thank you, Mythbusters, once again). Gasoline is a fire hazard, too. If the internal combustion engine is the way to go, fix the fuel.

But, where the hell will all the hydrogen come from? Again, it'll be more burning coal to rip apart the covalent bonds to get some tasty hydrogen for our guzzly (or huffy) cars. Damn your eyes, keen new technology!!

Enter… the Windhunter.

Who's your daddy?

Look at the video, read the FAQs. Gimme a fleet of these bad boys. They generate hydrogen from seawater, by using windpower to electrolyze the water molecules. Boo-ya. How freakin' simple and awesome is that? I gotta say, I can dig it. Cars that pollute nothing, and a shit-ton of ships out in the middle of the ocean, making good use of the wind what good Mama Earth done gave us. And look, I get it- the oil companies make a ton of money right now, drilling for oil and blah-blah-blah. If they could get switched over to this, that's a crap-ton of money to be made. Seriously. Figure it out.

My only concern would be... when we start seriously utilizing stuff like this (and given the growth of energy consumption in the world since Industrial Revolution, it's likely to trend ever upward), aren't we going to lower the sea level by a bit? Maybe not massive amounts (though ironically enough, to lower it by a few feet worldwide would be a mathematical balance to the rising tides caused by melting polar ice caps. Hunh.), but somewhat. I'm sure it'd have an effect on sea life, and if we're adding salt to the oceans (by removing the water and dumping the salt back into the ocean- where'd you think it would go?), it's bound to have ecological effects somewhere down the line. And given that less than 2% of the world's water is freshwater, it's likely that saltwater is what we'd be electrolyzing.

And what about oxygen toxicity? Oxygen, in high concentrations, is toxic. I doubt we'd be electrolyzing quite so much to seriously effect the overall percentages of oxygen in the atmosphere, but you never know. If you've put massive quantities of hydrogen from saltwater into tanks, and aren't yet burning it, won't the oxygen
you've released be floating in the atmosphere?

Of course... there are worse things that a slightly lower ocean and a slightly higher percentage of oxygen in the atmosphere. It's arguable that the oceans are already rising and the oxygen in the atmosphere is already lower than it's been in centuries past. Would switching gears reverse that trend? How weird and amazing would it be if we could actually undo some of the damage to the planet, and continue to live basically as we do now?

Speaking of wind energy... It's really growing into an interesting field.

MagLev Wind Turbine Technologies

This is a a giantic, skyscraper-sized windmill. It's also a vertical windmill, which is a design that captures wind energy much more efficiently than traditional windmills, which in and of itself is good. What pushes it over the top is the fact that it's maglev.

Fucking fascinating. It's a far from perfect technology, and I'm sure no one wants one of these in their backyard (though where do you think coal and nuclear power plants go?).

So, yeah, these are huge 2001 monolith-style wind turbines. Not easy to convince people is worthwhile.

---

These, however, are beauteous, quiet, and feasible.

Quiet Revolution



This is a wind turbine that doesn't have to rotate to find the wind. Seems like a small thing, but it means it can operate pretty much anywhere, and you can mount these bad-boys on roofs in the middle of the city, and they'll get enough power to do some damage to your electric bill, without being an eyesore, making rock concert decibels, or taking up a ton of space. Pretty keen.

I'm partial to the idea of placing these all along the interstate. We're flying by at 65 MPH- why not grab a little of that wind there, eh? And I'm sitting in the nasty Chicago el station, waiting on that train, and the wind is blowing like a sonofabitch. (Yeah, Chicago was called "the windy city" because of it's hot-air politicians, but if you live here, you know that it's pretty incredibly windy, weather-wise, too.) Let's get some of those mounted atop the train stations. Do it to it.

---

Ditto on solar panels. Forever, they've been incredibly expensive, thick, heavy, and not very efficient. Nanosolar, who I talked about before, has developed their printing-press technique for printing paper-thin solar panels for about the same coast per kilowatt hour as coal.

*blink*

*blink*

Let me say that again. Solar cheap as coal. And solar never runs out. You install it... and it's free fucking energy forever. Well, that, or the several billion years till the sun supernovas. Can anyone else dig it? Oh, yeah, that's right. The uber-rich oil companies probably aren't keen on free energy forever. Fine. Tax the solar power. License use of the panels. Something. I don't care. Someone'll wanna make some money from it somewhere, and thousands of people will lose their jobs if/when oil is toppled.

---

Anyone ever wonder what we could be doing with those massive deserts out West? Pilot program. Cover a couple thousand acres of the desert with solar panels and giant maglev wind turbines (or smaller ones- the big one requires something like 100 acres to be built, though they produce the same energy as 1,000 windmills, which would take up 64,000 acres). Learn what the issues of that sort of energy production are, how feasible it is, what sort of maintenance it requires, the whole nine yards. Give it a year or so. If it works, and generates enough energy to make it worthwhile, terrific.

Hell, it looks like it's already happening, to some extent.

Say, hows about we start talking with the governments of the world. Talk to Russia about Siberia, where it's gotta get awful windy, and where there's some serious desert. Strike a deal with them- we help them build a shit-ton of these wind turbines, they cut us a serious deal on power costs.

Talk to Africa about their massive deserts. Largest continent on earth, least habitable overall. If they could export energy to the rest of the world, think what it would do for their economy (and how fucking awesome the US would look for doing a good deed- and how much we'd end up saving, money-wise, in the future. Boost the economy, anyone? I'm more interested in saving 50% off my energy bill, than on getting Bush's bullshit tax rebate check).

And don't use traditional, expensive-as-hell panels. Use Nanosolar, so you get more bang for your buck.

Talk to them about building these awesome buildings throughout Africa, to supply food for their hungry. Again, maybe hook up an agreement of some sort, to get us a serious deal, and build them some Vertical Farms.

Food for power. Something like that. I'm no politician. I don't get to make those decisions. I just think it's pretty fucking sweet. I want one.

Okay, upon further research, it appears I'm a douche and didn't read enough. Check out how much further ahead of us Europe is...

Kinetic power also seems to be a big deal. I've seen watches powered by it, and now
cell phones.

Seems like relatively simple technology, but hey, it should be made use of, don'tcha think? Put some of those suckers to use inside trains, along highways, under sidewalks, under my gym's treadmills.

Not to mention lightning. It's right there. Are we idiots?

Shouldn't we be collecting some of these massive amounts of energy we're spending,
and recycle it wherever we can?

---

So...
There's a lot of energy out there that the Earth provides for us. Let's make use of it. I'd love to see, in ten years, roads covered with zero-emissions hydrogen cell vehicles, which are covered with some solar panels (in nice designs, mind you, or in thin filaments within the glass, if possible) to add to their power intake. Hell, even electric cars, since in this utopia, their power isn't generated from coal, but from...

Windmills. Big ones, small ones. On top of skyscrapers (which would also have a ton of solar panels), atop the roof of your house, in the desert, off on acres of land being used now by nuclear reactors and coal-fueled power plants. Lining the corridors of our nation's highways, to pick up on all that wasted energy we expend in the everyday to-and-from.

Solar panels littering the landscapes of otherwise barren countries. The economies of Africa and Russia boosted to the point that they can stand up alongside the US, economically and socially.

Lightning rods gathering massive electricity bursts every and anywhere possible.

Hydrogen-cell powered cars getting their from offshore electrolysis rigs. Not to mention hydrogen replacing propane for home heating, wherever possible.

Kinetic power being collected along the highways, city streets, airports, anywhere there's a good day-to-day bustle.

Solar-powered hydroponic farms in Africa, feeding the populace.

The US being responsible for kick-starting much more of this than we currently do.

Ending our dependence on foreign oil in a manner other than switching gears to some liquid-coal fuel.

Yeah. Dare to dream, right?

Music

I'm just posting this to update some cool new music I found that I like. I have no idea what category to put some people in...

Matthew Dear (Listen to "Neighborhoods")
Ringside ("Struggle", "Dreamboat 730")
Erlend Oye ("Every Party") and Kings of Convenience ("Cayman Islands") -they're related
Under the influence of Giants ("In the Clouds", "Aha")
The Dandy Warhols (not that you haven't heard of them, but I really dug "The Last High")
Grand National ("Talk Amongst Yourselves", "Drink to Moving On")


Ian Brown



Oh, and I do believe I'm going commission Timo Maas, Crystal Method, and VNV Nation to write music for my workouts. Not deep music, but certainly gets the blood pumping.

Funny.

We had another WiP this weekend, as per usual. I posted it up on Meetup, and got 10 people to go with the 9 regulars (counting me) who showed up. It was interesting and fun, and some of the folks were really cool. Neat. And, on top of that, there were people who weren't able to make it who also expressed an interest in showing up. One lady even dropped by, though she was sick, to let me know she wouldn't be coming, because "you know how nuts Meetup gets when you don't show up". Whatever.

---

I've been attempting the personals thing, again. Though I wrote up a cute (or lame, depending on how you wanna look at it) little ad, I'm not really thrilled about the prospects. It's been quite a few years since I went that route, and frankly, I'm not sure I have the mental muscles to do the online flirting thing anymore. I like meeting women in person, and slowly getting to know them, because we have an indefinable chemistry, rather than meeting them online, scrolling through checkboxes, and hoping for the best. I'm sure there's a handful of really terrific women I've ignored because they've got checkboxes filled in for things that I'm not too keen on.

Bah. I've met too many women who fall into far too many different checkboxes. It's hard to close people out. And everyone says the same thing! Christ. Yes, you're spectacular because you're soooo into sports. Whoopie-do. Actually, I couldn't give two shits about any sports team playing any game anywhere, ever. If I'm on the team, that's a little bit of a difference, but 90% of the time, "I love sports!" means "I love to sit around and drink beer and talk about other people playing sports." Meh. Boring. Let's go do something.

And everyone loves traveling. Don't get me wrong. On the few occasions in my adult life when I've really been able to travel, I've loved it. But I see tons of photos of women who I'd otherwise find interesting, doing nothing more than showing off how much time they've spent abroad. I don't care where in the world you've been. I'm more interested in what you have to contribute to it.

Oh, just a photo note- I find it hard to be attracted to any woman whose every single photo is serious. Maybe that's just me. But I find nothing more attractive than the woman who's got a photo of herself in some cocktail dress looking all snazzy, followed by her cross-eyed, surrounded by Tickle-me-Elmos, holding a fifth of Jack.
...What?

I won't ramble about it. I am thinking, though, of throwing a "singles only" party (yeah, fuck you) at my place, beginning of next month. Doing a "pizza dinner party"- because everyone can make a pizza. Supplying ingredients and the kitchen, and hanging out for a few hours... then overlapping that into a karaoke party in the evening. Sound like fun? Yeah, thought so. Whatever the case, I like meeting women in person, but it seems like just about every woman I've been attracted to in the past 6 months or so has been involved with someone. It'd be nice to have at least that portion of the equation taken care of.

---

Punishing the body...
I've been hitting the workouts a bit more frequently, these past two weeks. I think I'll start taking photos now. I know I've not been eating quite well enough, just yet, but the workouts are feeling good. It's very strange, though, the things that stick with you, muscle-wise.

I've noticed that the muscles of the face, neck, and forearms get a workout, regardless of whatever else you're working out. Seems like, post-workout, those are the parts that get the most strained. Go fig.
And the muscles that have always been bigger... may always be so. Unless you're dedicated enough to balance them out, or something, but who does that but bodybuilders and the insanely muscle-obsessed?

When I was in junior high and high school, I didn't ever leave any of my books in my locker, because I figured I'd need them for homework. Yes, I was a nerd. So... I carried them around all the time. I'm fairly certain I left most of them in my locker during the day, and picked 'em up at lunch, but I know that I carried home 20-40 lbs of books every day, in two bookbags. One bag would be a traditional backpack, spreading the weight over my shoulders. The other would be a gym bag style bag, which I'd carry in my left hand... so much so that the muscles of my left shoulder are still markedly larger than those of my right.

And, when I was in 11th grade, working out in the gym (badly), some girl challenged me to the leg press machine. I really can't recall the circumstances behind it- it was half a lifetime ago- but she basically challenged me to keep up with her, to see who could leg press more. And we had a big, free-weight leg press machine that looked like it was designed by the same folks who built the machine from Aliens.

Anyhow, she and got going on this thing, and she crapped out before we hit 450 lbs. I kept going, and I believe I crapped out at about 490 or so. Ridiculous, true, but it got me playing on that machine (almost to the exclusion of all others) constantly, using it as a calf-workout as well as my full leg-workout. So, to this day, I have overlarge, Popeye-esque calves, and can leg-press considerable weights. I barely workout my legs anymore, because I gotta find some kind of balance, see. I barely touched anything else but that machine, like a complete dolt.

---

In the interest of following my "posting about cool things" endeavor, I bring you one of my favorite toys on the internet:


Ah, what a sweet piece of ass. I mean, technologically-speaking. Seems like exactly half the people I mention it to have either never heard of it, or use it every single day.

See, Pandora works with the Music Genome project, a huge music-categorization project that endeavors to take just about ever song written (okay, not everything, but millions of songs, anyhow) and categorize it by a shit-ton of factors. Style of music (not rock/R&B/jazz/country, but more by use of instruments, rhythms, vocals), influences, lyrics- just a ton of factors I haven't even fully explore. Regardless, it classifies the music, and if you were to enter a song into its radio-station query, you'd get a station that plays songs similar to that one. And you can give it a thumbs up/down if you like/dislike the song, and it takes that into account when choosing new songs. So, it's a really interesting way to find potential new music that is somehow similar to your current tastes. I've broadened my tastes a bit and discovered new artists this way, since I started using it about a year ago.

Actually, the chocolate in my peanut butter of this little dandy is Replay Music, a program that will record anything that comes from your sound card, and hunt it down on a database to somehow or other and name it according to artist, album, and song title. It's a pretty sweet program, and in conjunction with Pandora, you can add some great new MP3s to your music collection. You gotta get it going first, then load up Internet Explorer and the website. Settings vary, I'm sure, but I crank up the volume on my computer, on the Pandora volume bar, and on Replay Music's gain. Otherwise, it records the volume much lower than anything else in my computer. Weird, that.

I look at it as a step removed from recording Casey Kasem's Top 40 onto audio tapes when I was a kid. The technology is better, but it's still just me recording the radio. So, neener-neener, free sweet new music. Huzzah.

I just set it to record while I'm away at work, and review the spoils when I get home. If you leave it be, Pandora will stop playing music after 3 hours or so.

Little trick, though- If you move your cursor over the album cover art and leave it there, Pandora seems to think you're still actively viewing the music, and continues to play till you stop it. And since it keeps a running tally of all the music it's played, you can edit the tracks Replay can't find in its shiny little database. I've already found a handful of albums I have to go out and buy (and yeah, I'll go buy the CD, even if people keep saying how CDs are going the way of audio tapes. I still own some VHS, so piss off, world)

Bitchin'? You betcha.

Next post: Science fiction-y view of the universe and how cool it'd be if we could get some environmental tech going full-force. And recipes, or somethin'. (I realized I didn't even cover what I promised, last post. I'm a liar!!!)

Still fucking... resolutions

In the interest of not berating myself for, thus far, mucking up the endeavor of writing everyday, I'm going to dedicate this post to continuing to fuck the "resolution" idea.

I spent last night at home (been home a lot the past few weeks, savin' money, chilling out), and decided to spend some time making myself a nice dinner. Threw together a bacon-ranch cheeseburger that was so good I could kiss myself. I'd forgotten that, even when I'm just cooking for me, it's okay to cook something well (putting onion powder and a bit of soy sauce was such a good idea- juicy, flavorful burger. Oh, baby.) And it was cheap, because I made it myself. And I felt good afterwards.

I'm going to spend more time this year focusing on stuff that I know will make me happier, in the long-run. I've done plenty that makes me happy in the short-term. Eat that Domino's pizza. Get drunk and make a fool of myself. Sleep in an extra hour. Don't clean the house. Waste money on DVDs. Watch porn (yeah, like you don't fucking do it).

That's all well and good. And yeah, I am certain I'll still do my fair share of stupid crap this year. But there are things I know I could be better spending my time, energy, and money on- all of which are finite resources- things that will make me, ultimately, much much happier. Like spending the extra 20 minutes to make dinner (rather than tossing some pasta in a bowl with a ton of cheese, onion powder, basil, and salt, and calling it dinner). I was so much happier, and re-learned how to fry a burger (I honestly hardly ever make 'em, truth be told).

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For instance. Working out. I feel better, sleep better, and look better, when I work out regularly. I buy myself new clothes, because I like how things are looking. I'm more confident, smile more, and generally just feel fucking terrific. Why don't I work out? Laziness. Want more sleep. It's too hot at the gym. I'll work out tomorrow. Even though I know I'll slide into the funk of not-working out, and continue being a lazy lump o' crap.

So, shooting for more of that.

Cooking more often. See above. Hell, see below. I already posted about this a bit.

Buying stuff that will make my overall life better. I bought new cookware recently, and it was terrific. I cook more, already. I'd been surviving (only just) with the shit I had before, and now I like my knives and my pots and my cutting board. Hell, I haven't even bought lunch out once in the past two weeks, because I made so much good yummy food.

So, to the end of "life better" stuff- gonna save up and buy a nice bed. I'm a grown man; I deserve it. It's pitiful that I've been sleeping on a double-mattressed futon for the past couple years. Lame, lazy, dumb. I only sleep so well on it, and my bedroom lacks under-bed storage because of it. What gives? When I moved to Chicago, I spent about 9 months sleeping on an air mattress, because that's what I'd hauled up here in the back of a pickup truck, with the rest of my belongings. Time to move on.

A new bike, when the season rolls around. I've survived with the one I have, and it's actually been not half bad, for a free bike (Erin from ComedySportz gave it to me when my last one was stolen, well over a year ago), but I'd be much happer with a newer one, with a cool rack on the back, maybe a hitch for one of those long trailers (dream big, right?), reflectors all over, and a big lamp on the front. And baseball cards in the spokes.

Contact lenses. I've had glasses for about 20 years. They're constantly getting scratched and messed up, rust when you sweat on 'em (yeah, yuck is right), and generally are a pain in the ass. Yeah, they cover up the fact that I have extraordinarily dark circles under my eyes (another goodie to work on this year, and not related to the aforementioned poor slumber), but they also get in the way of those baby blues (which I get compliments on, for whatever reason. It's like, "um... okay, thanks. I grew them myself.")

New, nice clothes. A fucking suit. I've never owned a suit in my life. A tuxedo, once upon a time, but never a suit. I barely own dress shirts and nice shoes.

Nice shoes. Like, really incredibly nice shoes. I destroy my shoes, because they're cheapie junk.

Regular haircuts. I look like a slob and feel like one, when I don't keep my hair cut. I got a cut yesterday, and I feel like a million bucks. So there, college-days hair. Once, when I was in college, I let my hair grow reeeeeally long. Like, three times longer than I've ever let it get in the past 10 years. And I grew out my beard to a full beard, then to a goatee large enough you could grip it in your fist and it'd come out past your hand. Someone told me "dude, you look like Jesus". Cool, I can dig it. Days later, someone else: "Dude, you kind of look like Colonel Sanders".

Shave and a haircut: Two bits.

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So, yeah, those are all part of the grand scheme to make my look, health, and home a bit nicer. They'll also be helped by saving more money- actively going to the trouble to set aside some of that "rainy day" money I've heard so much about. When I need money, I generally can find it, but I'd rather not have to find it. And it makes it easier to get yourself nice stuff when you're actually stowing away money for it.

This part is a little more along the lines of "get the fuck out of the house", which I know is something that'll help me be happier, in the long run.

I need to see more shows. I do, once in a blue moon, go see something I'm not personally involved in, but those are far too few and far between. I know there's a ton of absolutely crappy theatre out there, so I need to make an effort to find something that is both cheap (see above) and interesting. And while I should go see more improv specifically, it should be tempered with equal amounts of traditional theatre and live music and standup shows and the like. I know it'll help my tastes evolve, to be exposed to more than just WiP and the Improvised Shakespeare Company on a weekly basis.

And speaking of Work(shop)-in-Progress (see what I did there?), I need to focus more effort on getting people there, writing about it, and generally making it better. I know I get more out of having a handful of new people join WiP than wasting time putzing through the personals ads for some whiff of a human female with personality, passion, and a nice ass (what?). Last weekend, we had some fresh blood, and we hit the ground running with our first workshop of the New Year. I took the opportunity to try out some Augusto Boal exercises/warmups that I'd sat on for years (what the fuck is wrong with me? Are my directorial gears that rusty that I've fucking forgotten stuff I used to teach? Idiot. Read a goddamn book.). They were pretty sweet to play with. Don told me it was nice to see some new, more advanced stuff being tried out in that arena. And the rest of WiP turned out pretty cool, too. We developed a form based on the idea of a "tracking shot", a single-shot technique in film (watch the opening minutes of Altman's Short Cuts for an idea- they're actually discussing the concept of a tracking shot... while in a tracking shot! Ha! [yes, I'm a fucking geek.]). We played about with it, and while yeah, there were a couple stumbles, the technique made for some really great scenework. It'll probably end up in the rolodex of "shows to be produced by Theatre Momentum" at some point (see what I did there?).

So, I did some playing about on Meetup (where I go to get away from the "improv theatre folk"), and posted an event for WiP. Seems there's some people there who hadn't heard of it, and who'll probably show up. Excellent! That makes me happy. See? I win. And if I keep up that momentum (boo!) with promotions, it'll get me in gear to post more stuff and generally get more people involved.

Going to jams. This is where I really need to do something about my nose. See, in the past year or two, I've gotten to get involved with some truly excellent performers. People who bring up my level of play, make me realize what it is I got into theatre for in the first place, and are incredibly inspiring. So, my nose is alternately out-of-joint and in-the-air. It's fucking ridiculous. I still have a ton to learn, rarely play consistently well, and am more and more out of touch with the rest of the improv community. Which is likely a byproduct of trying to get out and about and away from that community... so as to be a more well-rounded performer/director/person.

What a douchebag.

So, I'm going to try to get out, at the very least, to the Open Court jam at the Playground. While it's not always the best environment, I know I could learn something, and I've sometimes been nicely surprised at the caliber of people involved. Gotta stretch those legs outside my home turf sometime. How else can I spread the word about WiP, or learn which shows are worth seeing, or just connect with some old friends/make new friends- if I just sit in my own little world all the time?

Posting shit I think is cool, rather than just not writing anything whatsoever. There's a ton of great stuff I've found on StumbleUpon (thanks for giving me the ultimate time-waster, D-Ray) and elsewhere, lots to share with the universe at large (or, you can just consider this masturbatory, which is perfectly valid). Any way you cut it, I'm going to start writing a bit more, and I shall endeavor to do so more often, so most of my posts aren't ten pages long (sorry!).

Next time: Cool tech goodies and crap I see on TV and in the movies that I geek out about.

Fuck resolutions.

For the past several years, right around this time, I find myself in the inevitable spiral of "making resolutions". Things I fall into for a few weeks, and soon fall out of. Habits I know would make my life easier, better, more fruitful, but that ultimately prove not quite in line with how I am, as a person (read: lazier than I should be). So, rather than create resolutions this year, I've decided to list things I will endeavor to do. Da Vinci did it. He endeavored to do tons of things, and only succeeded in a handful (but oh, what a handful, eh?). So, though I'm sure my intellect is a miniscule fraction of his, I shall endeavor, above all else, to be happy.

That is the top endeavor for me. All else is pointless, if I forget this. All the endeavors I’ve scrabbled together for myself for this year are things that, if I follow through with them, will make me happier than I am, or at least keep me happy. A nice caveat of endeavors (as opposed to "resolutions") is that guilt is not a factor. I refuse to feel guilty for not keeping an endeavor. It's something to strive for, and hopefully revisiting this blog and seeing promises I've made to myself will force me to continue to endeavor to...

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Endeavor the First: Get in better shape.

I know this is a resolution that’s bandied about by millions every year, so much so that I’m made sick to my stomach every time I open a paper or read the news (Yahoo’s front page informed me this morn of “6 steps to a slimmer 2008” -drink more water, walk -really, Yahoo? Thank god you told me!), which, in and of itself might be an effective diet, eh?

I've attempted, in the past, to... live off lemonade, eat nothing but meat, or otherwise generally starve myself, to trim back down to a reasonable weight (which is, of course, relative- I've been considerably more fit in the past, and want to get back to that). Frankly, the best way I've ever gotten in shape was when I was eating normally (imagine!), not pigging out on pizzas, and working out like a demon. And that was about 7 years ago, and my metabolism, I'm sure, has slowed down since. So, while I may not get buff enough to lift a car, I know it's possible to get considerably smaller/tighter/stronger/faster/better (cue music). And I know that I always feel infinitely better after I've been on a steady workout regimen than when I haven't. And when I haven't gorged myself on pasta, candy, and pizza. I generally eat pretty healthy, but when I do splurge, it seems I go off the deep end. Bah.

It was easier to regularly work out when I had a constant nagging keeping me going to the gym, when the mantra of "must punish the body for being small!" was bellowed at me by my best friend from back home, who had built his body up to an enviable standard. So, to that end- making myself accountable to someone (i.e.- me) -I'm going to start making use of my pretty shiny camera (bought a few years back in the interest of taking performance/promotional shots), and take weekly photos of myself. These won't be anything I'll post on a website or anything (though, if a year from now I'm in much better shape, I might), but for my own personal use. While I can subjectively look in the mirror after a week of working out and say, "oh, yeah, look at that, much better!" it'll be much more a boost to see results in a tangible, objective form.

And in the interest of not pigging out on nasty pizza and cheap disgusting pasta, here comes-

Endeavor the Second: Cook more.

I love to cook. I've hosted dinner parties, purchased cookware, and have riffled through recipe books aplenty. Generally I find myself looking for some sort excuse to cook, other than the obvious- "to eat". When I cook for myself, I often find that I toss together some frozen pizza or some mac n' cheese or a can of soup. Which is absurd.

In the past couple weeks, I decided to get myself some proper cookware and such. I bought a new cutting board (mine was so small!), some new knives (oh, baby), a new crockpot (5.5 quarts), a new skillet (deep sides are my friend), a colander (I didn't freakin' have one), and a couple other minor things. And last weekend I got myself oodles of groceries and fresh produce (fuckin' Stanley's is awesome- go there), some cookbooks from the library, and set to work.

As of this moment, I have about 15 servings each of lasagna and scalloped potatoes in my freezer, and two different kinds of soup (waiting to be frozen) in my fridge. And even factoring in the cost of the new cookware, it's a hell of a lot less expensive than it'd be for me to otherwise go out to eat for lunch or dinner. And chopping fresh broccoli with my bitchin' new cleaver was cathartic as hell.

And what's more- this stuff, even if it's scalloped potatoes (cheese and milk and butter and potatoes and flour and garlic), the unhealthiest thing on the menu (thus far)- it's still better for me than gulping down four slices of Domino's. Getting something actually done on a lazy Saturday afternoon felt pretty damn good, too. Yeah, I watched a bunch of movies while food cooked. But I've got enough soup to feed an army.

Those are two big ones. Another is to write every day, but not write gigantic blogs (the two may, in fact, go hand-in-hand). So, I'll save the rest for later, and just plan my workout and menu for the rest of the week. :)

Theatre of MAGIC!

When I was a kid, I was really into magic tricks. I had a mildewy suitcase in which I'd collected a variety of cheesy tricks, foam balls and rabbits, trick cups, cards, boxes, strings, and rubberbands, and for a few years, when I was still single-digitedly aged, I tried my hand at quite a number of tricks. I was okay, but never more than fair-to-middlin'.


I read books about magic, had a few birthdays populated by magic trick boxes plucked from Toys r' Us aisles, and pissed off a kid's party magician when I shouted out how he was able to push the pin through the inflated balloon without breaking it (a trick I intellectually understood, but physically had never mastered)


I reveled, while on a long car trip rattling around in the back of the old red rusted-out Ford van, in the biography of Harry Houdini. I wanted to be a showman of that ilk. Names like Robert Houdin and Harry Blackstone and Max Maven were always in my head. To this day, I have a certain fascination with stage magic- the mechanics, aesthetic, history- all of it.

Well, last night, I met Mr. Max Maven, and it wasn't quite the experience I'd hoped. Not to say Max isn't a charming individual, but the circumstances were certainly not those I'd dreamt up as a child.

I signed on with the gentlemen of Barnes Magic to tech a couple shows for them this week. Max Maven is their performer, and last night was our tech rehearsal, late at night.


I figured I'd get in, set some washes, prep the lights, and run a cue-to-cue. Standard stuff, over within in about two hours, max.
I was in for a surprise.


Turns out, the theater (City Lit) is set up for another show, so their lights are hung specifically for that. Not a situation I've had issue with in the past, but here it became increasingly difficult as the night wore on.


While the gentlemen tried to prep an element of the show that has to drop in a just-so manner, I tried to sit with Max and walk through the lighting cues of the show. While he had some specifics he wanted, I was fairly certain we'd have to make do with the lights we had, and told him so. I had suggestions, but really just wanted to hash out the broad strokes, so I could get into the booth and program the whole show.


Max, who strikes me as a gentleman who has spent several decades refining the craft of his voice, wafted through every singular moment of the show in great detail. While yes, it was an interesting bit of character study for me to listen to him speak (there is a certain practiced charm and ego-centrism that I think is almost necessary for the magician to practice his craft- after all, the show is him, as much as the effects. The difference between a good magician and a great one can be merely the delivery. Houdini, for instance, was lame when it came to anything other than his escape tricks, even if the tricks themselves were amazingly executed. Just not his bag. I digress.) -despite this, it became a bit tiresome to listen to minute details that were only keeping me from plugging pretty little cues into the big clunky board.


Max has lots to say. He knows every element of his show inside-out, and if I'm on his lights, he has to put a certain amount of trust in my abilities. I get that. I heard "but they need to see my face" more times last night than I care to recall. I get that it's an important element of the show. I guess I'm just used to working with more loosey-goosey sketch/improv -types, who aren't so concerned about how they are lit, so much as if they are lit. Not Max's fault. I should've guessed that I'd need to work extra hard on the lights, and should've jumped on them sooner. I should've treated Max like I'd treat any other performer- essental to the show, but still, well, my bitch, when it comes to tech. Cut to the bottom of XYZ scene, find your mark, don't dilly-dally. I let him ramble, and while I do have a respect for him, I got work to do. There's a middle road there.


Anyhow, when 1 AM hit and we'd not worked out a single lighting cue, I was a bit burnt out. I came embarrasingly close to just walking out, declaring that my time was worth more than this, and that it was exceedingly late (the thought did occur to me to just leave and ignore phone calls and emails from them forevermore, but I just had this inkling that following that line of thought would karmically bite me in the ass someday).


When I started talking with Max about the specific cues, he basically intimated that we'd have to hang some new lights, add some gels, to get just the visual he was looking for. We found out that we were allowed to do so, so I reluctantly found some lights and got 'em up, focused, gelled, and ready to go. Not my job, or anything I technically even know how to do. I always get nervous when I'm learning on the job, and under the gun like that.


That was about the closest I ever came to walking out on a tech rehearsal. And I think the guys running the show realized it, too, because they thanked me repeatedly, shoved three times my alotted fee into my hands, drove me home, and apologized for the chaos.


I'm going back tonight as early as I can, to set the cues (at least I figured out how to program the board- that'll make my life easier), run a cue-to-cue (go where I'm tellin' you!), and tech the show.


Magic. It's a lot o' work.

I want one.

I geek out on the craziest stuff. I see new technological advancements that give me faith in mankind, and it garners the same response from me as I get when I see things like the Wonderwheel from the Richard Pryor movie "The Toy":





I WANT ONE.




I'll admit, the Wonderwheel is a much more visceral desire than some of the other things I geek out about. It's pretty sweet-looking, especially for 1983 (or whenever the hell it was), when I first saw it.

Odd side note- I realized, upon watching several episodes of "I Love the 80's", several years back, that I came into full cultural awareness pretty much exactly 1983. That's the year I discovered He-Man toys, Legos, and cried at the end of Return of the Jedi.

Anyhow, I recently heard about Nanosolar, which is this excellent flexible, uber-thin solar panel. It's 99% cheaper than solar panels ever were before – that's a big part of the reason solar panels haven't become as ubiquitous as you'd think, in a day and age when our reliance on oil and coal is proving to be unsustainable (I've heard numbers bandied about that show us tapping the well dry in about 2030, but it's 7 AM, and I haven't the time to hunt down the research).

Not only is it super-cheap, but it's super-thin. Current solar panels are so thick and heavy and expensive that no one wants to use 'em. You drop these suckers on top of some buildings in downtown Chicago, and suddenly power costs go down big-time. It's pretty cool stuff. That's why they've been winning awards, getting all kinds of grants, and hopefully will go far.

Now, I'm not an environmentalist, by any stretch of the imagination. I do bike places, but it's more because it's cheap and fast (compared to the train or a cab). I take the train because it's a damned sight cheaper than anything else. But I still think it's damned cool.

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Anyhow, beyond that, I've recently heard of a Forced Resonance Ultra-Short Pulse Laser... that can kill viruses.

Well, okay, it's not there just yet, but it's on its way. They've only tested it in a lab setting, but it'll eventually get to human testing. Works like a voice shattering a glass, or like Nikolai Tesla shaking bridges in two. Everything (well, at least solid or crystalline structures) has its own resonance frequency, a frequency at which it will begin to vibrate. Turn up the volume, and it can shatter.

Mythbusters did a whole thing on it. It was neato-frito-burrito.



So, see, it's possible. Now, apply that bad-boy logic to a viral sheath, and the virus can be shattered to bits, leaving harmless protein detritus in its wake. They did the same thing, but with a laser instead of sound. It's fuckin' awesome, and I want one.

I'm inspired, and bet that by the time I'm old enough to need it, science will have all the goods to keep me alive forever. Stem cells, plastic surgery, implants from my cloned body, and the ability to rebuild the brain itself, or at least download me into a giant robot capable of destroying planets.

or whatever.

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Here, science, have a cheesy/crappy idea I came up with when I was ten, and was told would never work:
Take a crystal radio and hook that fucker up to a sound-to-electricity thingamabob that came with my electronics playset. :)

Hook that doohicky up to a capacitor or something (I was ten, what'd you expect?). Let it build a charge up till it's big enough to power something, then let it charge a buzzer and a radio transmitter (doesn't have to be powerful- it'll be real close by- think Mister Microphone), and send that buzzer noise through the transmitter, to the radio (or two radios, or three, or a million!), and start collecting the power. Anything in excess of what it takes to power the buzzer/transmitter, hey, free energy forever and ever.

Of course, it'd be just as good to turn it to static, but hey, I was ten. I was lucky to get the buzzer to work.

Finite

Well.

Er, welcome. First posting, long-time... nothin'. I threw this together to find other ways to ramble online, get rid of all the detritus of my brain, find a place for those little pieces of information that gotta get spewed somewheres. Enjoy. You'll find overlong rambling posts here, cool links, interesting nostalgia et cetera ad infinitum. (that's about all I recall of four years of Latin. That and Britannia non est parva insulad. Britannia est magna insula. – "Britain is not a small island. Britain is a large island.")

The post and blog title come from a Tony-ism I toss at people who've given me a bit of odd information I really don't want to hear, because it's a waste of brainspace [usually this is some bit of pop-nonsense or celeb gossip]:
Thanks. That little tidbit just shoved out the last quote from Ghostbusters from my brain.

Another Tony-ism:
No story that begins this way ends well.