Thursday, January 15, 2009

Finale

Something tells me this final post should be important or... something.  I mean it's the last one, should go out with a bang and all that right?  But there's nothing special about this one, I'm still listening to some of my favorite things (this time it's The Office), and I'm still stumped on what I should write about.  First I suppose I should boot up citrix so I can record this in the Blog Log, and then send it to Kunkle when I'm done.  Done, and now the student e-mail, and Word for my two favorites.

It's nice, one of my favorite episodes is on, Conflict Resolution.  One of the better episodes from the second season, and I think I need two or three more comments so I'll do that before the night's over too.  So how should this end?  I suppose checking facebook won't get it done any faster.  Regular readers will recognize this as my "Artificially make my blog post longer by rambling" method.  It works, and it's fun.

Alright, I need to do actual work, and finish Caucasia but that's beside the point.  Let's talk about Caucasia, I've made it a habit to not address the things we do in class directly, except for my comments, well normally.

So, Caucasia, the story of a half-black/half-white who is going through puberty.  She doesn't know who she wants to be/should be and her mom thinks the FBI is on her tail.  200 pages later we find out that there's no danger and that Birdie has an inexplicable habit to spend the first day in a new school the same way every time.  Everyone in Caucasia apparantly loves using music instead of their own voice to express themselves, and hair is the most important thing in the world to Danzy Senna.  Damn I just made fun of three motifs in two sentences, I'm on a roll.  On a more serious note, how do you make a run from the FBI boring or a girls first day of school?  I was more entertained when I tried to read Twilight, the differences here are that I had to buy Caucasia and that I'm not allowed to not finish it.  There's something wrong with a book when you get three quarters through the book without getting excited.  

I dunno, some rising action maybe, a conflict here or there?  Yes, Birdie and the girls at school were at odds, but then three pages later their friends, that's not character development that's being eclectic.  Yes the author is trying to make the point about how we change ourselves to fit in, but it's a tired message.  It's a good message, but there's a much better way to tell it (read The Fountainhead, it's roughly 700 pages giving that message among others in a much more entertaining and cohesive way).  Yes I mean cohesive, most books suffer from this symptom actually; the book gives a message, then another 50 pages later it gives the same message in roughly the same form.  It just gets boring and makes me take the message less seriously, you could have the best message in the world but it seems less so if you can't think of more than two ways to say it.

Mmk, I'm done with all this praying for another cold day and it looks like we'll be getting it.  Channel3000 says we have some kind of warning until 12pm on Friday, and Weather.com says it'll be around -25 at 9am on Friday.  So it looks like we'll have an extra long weekend and I won't have to take my math quiz until Monday.




Well, goodbye blogs, and it's early but, I'll be hoping that I see about 12 of you in more of my classes next semester (I don't not like any of you, but I do like some of you).

Let's have a chat about destruction

I recently got myself a game off of eBay.  The entire point of this game is to crash cars, there's an entire part where you just smash your car into an intersection and watch everything explode.  I've gotta ask, why do I find this so appealing?  There's apparantly something about destruction that's just very appealing.  I think I know what it is and so does everyone who enjoys destruction, at least they do subconsciously.

To build anything takes creativity, and courage.  And to build cars that go upwards of 200 mph that look like the coolest thing since sliced bread takes more than the average amount of both.  It gives a great since of power to know that you can destroy something that took so much to make in a matter of seconds.  It makes you feel as though you've equaled their power, when you of course haven't.  You may have found the one spot that destroys the whole machine, but what does that prove?  Even if you keep destroying someone's achievements you still haven't equaled the person.  Creativity and courage are not measured by what you have made (though I'll admit it's not a bad thing to measure by), especially if the things you make are being destroyed.

Anyway, I've got to go crash some more nice cars, I'll be back later to finish off my last blog.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

X-ism

Show of hands, who's tired of being told over and over again that racism and sexism is bad? I think Mr. Vonnegut says it best in Slaughterhouse Five, "I know, I know, I know..." I could understand if we were taught this once and then brought it up when someone says or does something stupid. But to send it at us over and over again is just lunacy. It's gotten to the point where me and my friends are as racist as possible when we hang out together just to make fun of it all. I'm certain it's a larger issue in major cities and anywhere that isn't our safe little white suburbia, but for God's sake, "I know, I know, I know!"

What it comes down to is, I just don't care anymore, I never cared. I never thought race or gender made any difference in the first place, I couldn't see how anyone thought it did. I'm not going to digress into the arguments made by sociologists that it should be taken into account because of the disadvantages X race or gender faced in the past. I couldn't care less for what they consider fair or just. Exceptions don't prove rules and many people have risen beyond what sociologists said they should have by doing their best for themselves.

As for the issue we're talking about with our journals, how the media defines women and changes their minds. Congratulations, you're right, well done... But don't spout it as though it's some profound statement that you found out on your own. We've known that the media's been doing this for years, ever since radios were created we've had advertising and ever since we've had advertising we've known they don't show the majority or the normal. It gets just as tiring as the advertisements themselves, listening to people talk about issues like these.

"But what I'm saying may help the girls change this time!"
That's what you want to say right? And sure, why not, maybe this time it'll be the thing they need to hear. Maybe this will be the trigger point making you change your consciousness. But changing your mind isn't something you do overnight, you don't get it from a goddamn seminar, and you certainly don't get it from reading a magazine article. It takes a conscious effort from the person to change their own mind, agreeing with an article doesn't do that. You have to think and consciously make the choice to not buy those designer jeans because that's what a model did.

Sure, it's the truth, and sure maybe people really do need that magazine article telling them to be themselves. But honestly, if something as inconsequential as a magazine article can change their mind one way what's to stop a different one from doing the same thing, changing them right back? If someone's mind is so willing to accept such a source without question then I'm not sure they're worth the message, truth or not.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

The odd duality of these things...

Let's talk about why I hate these blogs, and love them.

I'll start on the lighter note to appease Mr. Flaherty, I love these blogs because I can put down what I think for free. By right I should be paying for this, just as I would pay for paper or a pencil, but someone decided that the advertisers money is plenty; just as the advertisers decided that people who saw their add on a website would instantly want a free iPod so long as you sign up for five other sites! Anyway, that and the fact that it allows me a little closer look into the true nature of my classmates.

I get to see which ones think, and that's a lot to know. I know some of you just write our discussions down, you can't think of anything, well Hell, neither can I. That's pretty much it, I get to put my ideas down, and see which of us are cowards.

Now as to why I hate them, simply the time restraints. Sometimes I can't write about something one week because nothing interesting happens. When that happens I have to think, sit down and really take a look into my head. Yes class, even I hate it when I'm forced to think, I would much rather just take all of our collective words and write them down as mine. But I can't do that, it wouldn't be fair to myself.

"Wouldn't be fair to myself." Ha! I'm the worst offender of being unfair to myself, but that's another conversation for another time.


. . .


I love fighting, not with words, but taking the english departments swords and fighting with anyone is so much fun. There's no logic to it, it solves nothing, it increases violent tendencies, and you can get a little hurt, but it's so damn fun. I'm not fighting for an ideal, not fighting for someone or myself, but every once in awhile I just want to have a fight, who wants to fight?

Seriously, who wants to fight?






A fight ever now and then does make life more interesting, don't you think?

Monday, December 15, 2008

I'm really bored... (make up for when I was absent for some doctor appointment)

In honor of how bored I am I'm going to ramble a bit, once again. I've just finished my cool writing presentation (took me 40 minutes, but who's counting?) and now I realized that I need three more blogs. But I have nothing to write about, I have nothing I care to talk about. There's nothing to say to anyone.

I could take the direction I've seen a multitude of times in these blogs where we simply restate the discussion in class, but that doesn't take brain power and if I'm going to waste my time with this I'll be damned if I don't use my brain on it. My mind keeps straying to the game I want to design, but I figure I'll get this grade first. I'm anxious over how my audition went for our school drama "The Last Days of Judas Iscariot", the show is going to be amazing be sure to make it. I'm excited because I get to skip most of wednesday to sing for the Blue Notes Holiday Tour (that's right, I've got a gorgeous voice). But through all this I have nothing to write on.

Why are most the blog posts I see just rewritten versions of things we discussed in class. I realize that these are supposed to be based off our class periods, but when I peruse your writings and find four posts that say almost word-for-word what we said in class, along with some creative differences to make the words "yours". I have to ask, how much are people actually thinking when they do these blogs?
Then I'll see a one paragraph entry that says "censorship sucks" with about the same grace as a drunk stumbling down the street. The craziest part of all this is that you all chose to be in this class, and the blog assignment was announced before the drop-out deadline. So we were all aware of what we'd have to do, and this class is an elective in the first place.
I guess this is an appeal really, as much as I've tried I can't ignore it when I see potential wasted. I should be able to look at those blogs and move on, but to see the brilliant minds of this class wasted because you can't be bothered to put yourself out there, to show the world how smart you really are, is terrifying.
Maybe that's it, that's the core of the issue. Fear. Maybe you're all afraid of what we'd say if you put an original thought out there, and there are some of you for whom this post does not apply. And to you I'm thankful. But those of you who do this know who you are, or you're telling yourself you're not. Because for the few that do think and do put down those thoughts are agreeing with me. Because those of us that think know what it looks like, we know what it sounds like. It's the pure confidence that there's nothing you can be threatened with, nothing anyone can do to you. This post may draw fire, pure fire, but it won't mean anything. The one's that try to deny it are only trying to convince themselves, none of you have anything to say to me.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Ramblings of Daniel DeBoer

As much as it would be so simple to write off a blog with no meaning (but don't be fooled, I'll be damned if I couldn't make you think it was there), that's no fun and I seem to be incapable lately of writing something that means nothing to me.  That's a good thing, of course, if you write something that has no personal meaning to it there's no point for you to write it.  So as I peruse the lunch schedule, re-organize my iPod, and look up online forums I'll try to give you all something interesting to look at.  Of course, you wouldn't be reading this if you didn't find my work interesting, so that was really just a throwaway statement to get the blog even longer.

It's odd, normally I don't start things rambling this way but it's sure more fun and provides a way to artificially lengthen the blog, not that they need it.  I suppose right now it's hard to write because I have nothing to write against.  There's plenty of topics I could cover, the ideals of capitalism, the absurdity of religion, how people come to believe censorship is great, and why people think it's kinder to avoid talking than it is to just give me a straight answer.  Show of hands, who noticed the malice in that last example?  But at the end of the day (I love that expression), I don't care.  I don't think it's a conscious effort, like people's willingness to ignore what they know to be true.  But it's deeper than not caring too, or more shallow depending on your take.  I can't find a reason to care or to not care, I just don't think about it.

What I really want to do right now is get back to developing my storyline and aspects of gameplay for a game I'm designing, but I waste enough classtime doing that so I suppose I owe it to Kunkle to write something of note.  No, I don't owe him, at least that's not the reason I feel obligated to write this.  Maybe I'll examine that right now, it'll be an experiment alright?  You and me, let's figure out why I feel obligated to put something here.


It has to be something personal, I don't operate on any other level (no one does).  I'm not doing it for grades, not fully at least.  If I did it for grades this would refer back to class.  So I'm partially doing it just because my grade depends on it.  Hmm, do I feel a need for someone to know what I'm thinking besides myself?  That's not personal so I always discard it, but let's look at it.  Do I feel a need for others to recognize my existence?

A smart person once said "It takes two to make a very great career: The man who is great, and the man-- almost rarer-- who is great enough to see greatness and say so."  And I think he's right, so perhaps I do seek for you all to think I'm great, but then I shouldn't be so tenacious about myself.  Could that be part of it?  Do I want you to recognize me, but then accept me as is?  Then I'm creating some grand contradiction, or something of that nature.  I realize that for my own sake no one needs to recognize my ability, I know my ability better than all of you.  But if I seek that recognition I want to know why...

I think that's a topic for later, because I don't think that's the issue.  Perhaps it does just come down to what I always thought.  I do this so I can materialize my thoughts,  when they're materialized they seem rational and concrete.  Also it gives me greater satisfaction to know that I can materialize my thoughts and do it in such a verbose and eloquent manner.  Let's leave it at that, I'm doing this to see how much I can do with my thoughts.  Because when I give myself an assignment of this manner (to just write something) I think I'm really doing it to see what I do.  Then of course I'm curious to see how it's reacted too.  I must admit my last venture was less successful than I wanted, with Kunkle never responding.  But the one prior was much more fun, I wonder, did you all enjoy the show me and Sam gave you?  We knew what we were doing, but him playing the devil of the game made it more fun.  So I leave you with what I may use as my cool reading excerpt (I may do this from now on, I need an extra blog for the class I missed anyway, and giving you all a cool quote I like is certainly fun)--

"I never promised you a rose garden. I never promised you perfect justice, and I never promised you peace of happiness. My help is so that you can be free to fight for all of those things. The only reality I offer is challenge, and being well is being free to accept it or not at whatever level you are capable. I never promise lies, and the rose-garden world of perfection is a lie - and a bore too."

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Absurdism?

As my brain is still buzzing from the math test I doubt this will be nearly as coherent as my other posts, so I apologize for that. But it's clearing fast, and I'm realizing I don't care to write about anything. I could address the discussion Alyssa and I were having over absurdism, but that's much shorter than I want it to be. I do need a post however, so let's do that. Before we go into it I'll give you something to munch on. Why can these so-called absurdists only show the absurdity of the world by presenting their stories with an absurd premise? I thought logical people called that begging the question.


I'll assume you all noticed our discussion, Kunkle brought attention to it after all, and a few probably overheard us. For the benefit of those that didn't I will try to give a synopsis. It was something along the lines of, I was losing because I hadn't thought about the fight. I was asking what's the meaning of it and she recognized that it didn't matter if I knew the point if it meant something to them.

She's right, of course, it doesn't matter if I can understand the meaning or not. What does matter though, is the amount of effort put into the performance. Not just during it, but in preparation of it. Some may argue it took more effort to try and put emotions or feelings into animal sounds, and if you believe that I have no argument against you. There's no point, you believe it takes more effort to be animal than to be human. Were the gutteral animal cries the best their effort could produce? Couldn't they do better? Couldn't they do it human?

If you want to argue that animal sounds are better or equal to some glorious speech made so all can understand then I have nothing for you. By that fact, you believe that anything can be art. Drawing from that statement, then I propose that daily conversation is art as well. So why not talk to others in your animal language? It's no different, whether talking, discussing, singing, playing an instrument, or writing a novel you're attempting to deliver a message. And it's best if that message can be understood.

Maybe we're turning to an age where people don't care to have their messages understood. But then I propose that they've taken individualism to a dangerous level. Not an extreme, it's not very smart to deliver a message that won't be understood. People wouldn't buy it and you'd be forced to fend for yourself. Perhaps that's better, to teach people to think for themselves. Some people need to learn that skill, and maybe only those really needing to learn it are trying to turn art into this animalistic orgy of sounds. So perhaps I'll let you run your course, it's only you that will suffer from it. I don't intend to try and help you when you realize how much you've alienated yourselves from being human.