Autumn to me is a symphony.
I find it strange that some people don't see colors with sounds, or sounds with colors. I hate wearing red, orange, or yellow because it annoys my ears. Similarly, some music makes my eyes hurt.
Seeing the American flag makes me hear chaos. The red and white stripes alternate: screams and bombs, then silence, or a trill of noise that resembles a machine gun. The blue field is a soothing rustle like a brook or leaves in the forest, upon which
five-pointed grenades explode. Or again, white is sometimes silence, not good silence, but death silence, in which case those stars are dead breve rests. If I look at the flag quickly, particularly if it is hanging vertical, I hear a battle. I doubt the Founding Fathers took that into consideration.
Christmas red and green is both annoying and soothing. Much like the holiday, I suppose. It is a clattering battle, like mothers fighting one another over the last toy in a store, and green choir boys singing church hymns.
Through high school, I wore black because it was a droning sound, the closest to silence I could get. White was sometimes silent, sometimes the loudest, like an Ace in a deck of cards. I accented my dark ensemble with purple or blue, because it was soft enough to speak while not screaming.
Have you ever told someone they were wearing a "loud shirt"? That can be literal to me.
But the reverse can also be true. Sounds can evoke colors.
Music is a kaleidoscope of sound. When I was a child, I always wanted to play piccolo (long story why). When I learned flute and finally got my chance to be first-chair and thus the piccolo player, I couldn't stand the noisy stick. It was too bright! It was the brightest lemon yellow, sometimes a neon pink. Even the flute was becoming too bright. I switched to low brass. The music of the low instruments is made of shades of blue and purple. I prefer my world in those colors. I tried trumpet, and that was bright. French horn is the highest I can handle now. It's khaki, although it can range to green and into brown.
Not just the timbre of the instrument, but the notes themselves can affect the color. My trombone can be indigo, but it can also become lemon yellow, even cherry red if I'm playing particularly loud. Flutes can drift along in a greenish-blue sea, but rarely do they get to purple. Percussion are like white dots that brighten an otherwise monochrome tapestry. I have to be careful when playing in band because I can get lost in the visual aspect of the song.
It's a neurological condition called synesthesia. It's not pathological, I'm not crazy (really!) In fact, I love it this way. I hear music everywhere. I see colors when I hear sounds. Who needs drugs!
I don't literally "see" every single sound or "hear" every color, but... does it make sense to say I "feel" them? I know, I know, now I'm mixing three sensory experiences at once. "Impressions" might be a better word. I currently hear a bird singing out my window. It sings low, green, then goes into a high red and yellow trill, then warbles again in the green hues. Yet I don't see those colors on my computer screen as I type this. They're in my head, not in my eyes.
Perhaps because I can control it to some extent. I think being in the school band helped me to learn when to let my brain see the sounds, and when to keep it to just impressions. Some songs are still "orangish-red with white clashes" while others are "lavender with teal waves." Listening to ambient music is best for leaning back, closing my eyes, and allowing the colors to ripple on the canvas of my mind. In those moments, yes, I do see colors because I allow myself to. I have a hard time imagining the world any other way.
Now the trees are changing color. The gentle green melody is giving a triumphant fanfare, loud, boisterous, glorious, before the dirge of grayish-white winter sweeps in and murmurs like a crowd in a church. Taking a long walk, I think, "Who needs an iPod!" I hear plenty of songs around me. Each yellow, orange, and red leaf is a player in this symphony that makes up Nature.
Music adds color to my world. Colors sing to me.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Modern Fantasy: A Genre in Need of a Diet
In response to this blunt and brutal blog about my favorite genre:
http://www.spikemagazine.com/1002fantasydiet.php
As a fantasy writer, this has really been an eye-opening examination of the genre I love. It's true, I grew up thinking these pulp writers were gods of the genre, until I began reading the old tales. How could some court balladeer capture the imagination in a song that might have taken 2-3 hours to sing, when modern writers strive for the same thing, take 5-10 books to deliver their story, and never achieve the same goal?
Perhaps they feel the modern audience can't imagine "their world;" therefore, they must delve into the intricacies they've invented in their heads for true understanding to be gained. Tolkien wrote the Silmarilian as a project saga, then mentioned the deeds stated there throughout the Lord of the Rings. But a reader doesn't have to know Silmarilian to enjoy LOTR. Modern fantasy writers should take note.
I admit, I am just as guilty. I have my 12-book-long sci-fi that I'm still tweaking. But since that is a multi-generational story, I switch up main characters every two books, and sometimes shift planets so that the reader doesn't get bogged down (or so I hope). But particularly in high fantasy stories, I have caught myself on many occasions going on lengthy tangents about obscure religions of my fantasy world that are not in any way pertinent to the plot. It's simply a tidbit I invented and thought was interesting; therefore, I feel I have the right to drag the reader through a full page of useless invention, because it's my story and I think it's important, so nya!
Mr. Burns, my high school English teacher my Junior and Senior years, told me I wrote like Charles Dickens, in that I go on tangents all the time. 12 years later, I'm still uncertain if that was a compliment or a critique. A harsh professor in college lambasted my wandering ways. I try to keep on subject now. It's not easy. Being inundated by epic series, seeing full shelves of dragon lore and fairy tales and Wiccan rants, makes a writer want the same.
We want our own shelf in Barnes and Noble, dagnabbit!
In a world where quality-equals-quantity, writers are even encouraged to take their simple story and write sequels to death. I blame Hollywood for that, more than this blog's insistence that it was Tolkien's fault. Tolkien meant for LOTR to be one story, a single saga of epic size, a modern Song of Roland or Völsunga.
His publisher probably wanted more money.
http://www.spikemagazine.com/1002fantasydiet.php
As a fantasy writer, this has really been an eye-opening examination of the genre I love. It's true, I grew up thinking these pulp writers were gods of the genre, until I began reading the old tales. How could some court balladeer capture the imagination in a song that might have taken 2-3 hours to sing, when modern writers strive for the same thing, take 5-10 books to deliver their story, and never achieve the same goal?
Perhaps they feel the modern audience can't imagine "their world;" therefore, they must delve into the intricacies they've invented in their heads for true understanding to be gained. Tolkien wrote the Silmarilian as a project saga, then mentioned the deeds stated there throughout the Lord of the Rings. But a reader doesn't have to know Silmarilian to enjoy LOTR. Modern fantasy writers should take note.
I admit, I am just as guilty. I have my 12-book-long sci-fi that I'm still tweaking. But since that is a multi-generational story, I switch up main characters every two books, and sometimes shift planets so that the reader doesn't get bogged down (or so I hope). But particularly in high fantasy stories, I have caught myself on many occasions going on lengthy tangents about obscure religions of my fantasy world that are not in any way pertinent to the plot. It's simply a tidbit I invented and thought was interesting; therefore, I feel I have the right to drag the reader through a full page of useless invention, because it's my story and I think it's important, so nya!
Mr. Burns, my high school English teacher my Junior and Senior years, told me I wrote like Charles Dickens, in that I go on tangents all the time. 12 years later, I'm still uncertain if that was a compliment or a critique. A harsh professor in college lambasted my wandering ways. I try to keep on subject now. It's not easy. Being inundated by epic series, seeing full shelves of dragon lore and fairy tales and Wiccan rants, makes a writer want the same.
We want our own shelf in Barnes and Noble, dagnabbit!
In a world where quality-equals-quantity, writers are even encouraged to take their simple story and write sequels to death. I blame Hollywood for that, more than this blog's insistence that it was Tolkien's fault. Tolkien meant for LOTR to be one story, a single saga of epic size, a modern Song of Roland or Völsunga.
His publisher probably wanted more money.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Lair of Fair Hair
56 inches.
No, that's not how tall I am. That's how long my hair is.
My hair is not "long" (defined as a few inches past the shoulders) nor "very long" (defined as below the waist), but it is considered "extremely long," i.e. it is to my knees, maybe a little past that. My last serious haircut (because everyone asks) was the summer of 1995. Since then, it has only been trims whenever I feel the split ends have taken over my head.
Let's get this straight: kids may call me Rapunzel in the supermarket, but I do not have magical hair. It tangles, it splits, it tends to frizz, especially at the beach. I sit on it. I've stepped on it and did a not-so-graceful tumble. I've closed it in the car door (but not an elevator door yet; I get asked that too). It catches on doorknobs or in the door itself and yanks me backwards after I'm already two steps away, and yes, I've fallen on my keister because of that. Kids sneak up behind me and pull it, then run away giggling. My kitty has attached himself to my bum in his attempt to attack it. I once leaned over while vacuuming, had a bunch to fall and get sucked into the canister area, and instantly lost eight inches. Surprisingly, it did not pull at my scalp. It simply ripped.
Basic facts: my hair is brown. I was born blonde, went red when I was 9, and from there it's been getting darker.
History of Hair: It was the 80s. Yes, I did the perm thing. Yes, it looked hideous. That is why you will never see pictures of me from between the years 1987 and 1991. Trust me, it was bad. A few times, I used "Sun In" to lighten my hair, especially when I was transforming into a redhead. I wanted to be blonde again. It seriously killed the hair of both me and my little sister. Nasty stuff!
The only time I dyed my hair was 1997, my senior year of high school. My hair was going red again, so I wanted to try something darker. It was my mother's suggestion to go with "blue-black" hair. Hey, if Mom gives you permission, you go for it! That's all been cut out by now. My hair is "virgin hair," not treated, a nonsmoking environment (except when my upstairs neighbor throws his cigarettes into our planter), no dyed parts left, not permed or anything, I can't stand blow dryers, blah blah.
Why all this about my hair? I'm bored, sue me!
Actually, I had an intriguing interview regarding my hair recently, what inspired me to grow it, what I do with it, how I care for it, and a bunch of such questions, some which I'm asked every frickin' day.
And yes, I am sick of it, so why start your question with "I know you're probably sick of being asked this, but..." Other questions in the interview made me ponder why no one asks more intriguing questions besides "how long does it take to dry." Mein Gott! I am asked that constantly! It's to the point where someone says "Wow, you have lovely hair," and I reply with a snappy, "Three hours! Okay? It takes three hours to dry. No blow dryer. If I braid it wet, it won't dry. Ever! Otherwise, 3 hours!!!"
Honestly, I don't think about "hair care" too often. Lathe, wash, rinse, repeat, you know the drill. But I did some homework after that interview to see if I'm using something that will kill my hair in 20 years. Maybe because I had a time in middle school where my hair was falling out so bad, I actually developed a shiny bald spot the size of a silver dollar, so I'm a tad concerned if something is going to destroy my hair like that. Back then, the solution was simple: use baby shampoo and something that looked like bug tar. Yuck! Nowadays, I got into the habit of buying whatever is at the Dollar Tree. It's cheap, but who cares, right?
Turns out Dollar Tree stuff ain't half bad! White Rain conditioners are "cone free;" they do not use silicone which "glues" your split ends together only to destroy your entire hair shaft in the long run. I also buy VO5 Naturals, which is on the "good" list.
Bad news: the White Rain Naturals Lavender Vanilla Shampoo I use apparently sucks in too many ways to list. For one, it has Ammonium Lauryl Sulfate (not the dreaded carcinogenic Sodium Lauryl Sulfate, but possibly just as bad, it's on the "no-no" ingredients list) plus likely half a dozen other irritant chemicals that I didn't bother to research after seeing that one. That might explain why I sometimes break out in a short-lived rash after showering. It also leaves my hair a bit dry if I wash it too frequently (once or twice a week is usually all I do). Well, it's cheap and it gets my hair clean, but maybe I'll splurge just a little.
One website suggested Kenra Moisturizing Shampoo. That runs $10-18/10oz bottle, depending on where you get it. Another was Monoi Shampoo, which has the "gentler" Sodium Laureth Sulfate (as opposed to "lauryl"). Price: $7-9/7.8oz bottle. Last suggestion I saw was the sulfate-free Back to Basics Blue Lavender Color Protecting Shampoo. At $10/11.5oz bottle, with the 33oz bottle going for $18. That might be my best deal... and it's my favorite LAVENDER!!!
Who am I kidding! I'll still buy from Dollar Tree.
Hair care:
1) rosewood boar bristle brush for daily use;
2) a plastic "worst thing in the world for your hair" brush if I need my hair quickly spot brushed and I don't have to worry about snagging;
3) a very long handled comb, meant for people with arthritis but it's awesome for brushing all the way down to the tip of my hair;
4) a jumbo hair claw, it holds my hair a little too tight, and plastic is rough-edged, but it's durable enough not to "slip" and big enough to hold all of my hair up in a bun;
5) a mega-size metal barrette of a butterfly. I get so many compliments about it, and it's the only clamp of its size on the planet known to actually fit ALL my thick hair at the nape of my neck, but only if it's dry and not twisted in a design;
6) my wrapped no-damage hair holders and variety of scrunchies;
7) a few small rhinestone barrettes if I want to get gussied up;
8) and my new favorite: handmade wooden hair sticks by the wonderful "Style Stix by Jayne" in the Portland Saturday Market. Big plug for her, since she is virtually unknown yet so awesomely affordable. The sticks were a birthday gift from my mother-in-law, custom ordered EXTRA long because Jayne's usual sticks would not go through all my hair. She was so nice to make these custom to my hair thickness, including a handmade cloth carrying case in iridescent black.
Yep, that's about it. Oh, and itty bitty tangle-free elastic bands that I only use if I'm doing tiny braids. Yeah... I told you, I'm not big on "hair care" or fancy hair products. What I have usually works, so that's what I have. Why do I need more? Not that I wouldn't mind some pretties for my hair, but I'm not big on that stuff.
So the interview I mentioned earlier had a bunch of other questions.
Who inspired you to grow your hair? A bad haircut did, combined with a teacher who "complimented" me that I was such an average, unassuming person, with average height, average weight, average hair, etc. That's not what you tell a 16-year-old trying to discover some individuality. So since I couldn't change the rest of me without getting plump or stretching on Wonka's taffy puller, I opted for "different" hair.
How do you wear your hair to bed? Depends on how tired I am. Sometimes it's loose, sometimes it's in a braid, both bug me in different ways. Loose and my husband rolls on top of it, braided and it hurts my neck. My little splurge was getting satin pillow cases to stop morning tangles. [Edit] In response to the commenter below, sleeping with a ponytail is actually really bad for your hair. It can cause horrible knots and breaks.
How long do you want to grow your hair? It's at my knees. That's good for now. I'll keep it there until that 8 inches that I lost in the vacuum cleaner catches up. After that, I'm curious how long it will get.
Do people compliment you or ridicule you? Both. I get stopped every time I go out with my hair down, so if I'm in a rush, it pays to spend a little time to twist it into a fast bun and use my plastic claw from hell. Once in a blue moon, I get the meth freak screaming at me that I'm Jezebel and I'm denying cancer children their wigs. Okay meth lady, try actually reading Locks of Love's website. They don't give to cancer kids. They give to children who will NEVER grow back their hair. Other NPOs do (Pantene for one). If I like my hair long, that's my choice, just like it was your choice to buy that crystal meth this morning. The difference is, it's not a crime to have long hair, so get over it and put down the knife.
Only once has anyone actually pulled a knife out and threatened to chop my hair, and that was my uncle... and no, he wasn't joking about doing it. I have a weird family.
There were other interesting questions that I'm too tired to recall, or the answers would be too long.
Instead, here's some interesting sites about living (and surviving) with long hair.
http://longhair.org/ - long hair club... join the club
http://www.rapunzelsdelight.com/ - pictures of insanely long hair and the designs you can make with it (I am determined to master the "sock bun")
http://www.longhaircommunity.com/ - everything to know about caring for your hair
http://the-light.com/mens/longhair.html - long hair for the laddies
http://www.savvyskin.com/shampoo-ingredients-to-avoid - watch what you buy
http://www.longhaircareforum.com/forums/showthread.php?t=196051 - good cone-free conditioners (this sort of started my whole hair binge research thing)
http://www.tenderheaded.com/ - the combs here come highly recommended, I'll likely buy one soon
http://www.longlocks.com/ - great hair sticks... wish I could afford some of these
http://www.ficcare.com/ - fancy hair clamps, wish I could afford these too
http://beyondclassic.awardspace.us/choose.html - blog on hair, including commended products, an insane collection of hair goodies, and videos on designs good for knee-length hair. I still can't do a french twist with my hair, but she does.
Pantene Beautiful Lengths - If you are growing out your hair for donation, DO NOT use Locks of Love unless you are a child. They do not use adult hair at all, but sell it to other wig makers to cover administrative costs, or they simply toss it out if it has gray or damaged from color and heat treatments.
Do you want to know that those five years of diligent care and growth were used to pay some manager's Christmas bonus, or even THROWN OUT LIKE TRASH? They also charge the patient's family for the wigs. It's a sliding scale discount, but a good friend who's family dealt with Locks of Love said it still cost them hundreds of dollars just for one wig. Plus they don't give to cancer patients, nor do they claim to do so. Folks saw commercials of bald kids and assumed that they were chemo patients. Lock of Love never openly corrected the error, which I find despicable.
Okay, correction: they give wigs to a single form of cancer where basically chemo can never be stopped, therefore the child will never grow hair. That's the only one.
Yes, they do give to children with medical needs, but I would say 90% of the people donating to Locks of Love are doing so with the intent of helping cancer kids. I have met dozens of people who come up admiring my hair with stories of how they miss their long locks, but "It's all good, I donated them to Locks of Love after I lost my mother/sister/best friend/child to cancer. It'll go to a cancer kid." I cringe in pity, and I rarely tell them the truth because they look so happy about their good deed.
If you want your hair to go to ACTUAL CANCER PATIENTS, please consider using Pantene Beautiful Lengths.
No, that's not how tall I am. That's how long my hair is.
My hair is not "long" (defined as a few inches past the shoulders) nor "very long" (defined as below the waist), but it is considered "extremely long," i.e. it is to my knees, maybe a little past that. My last serious haircut (because everyone asks) was the summer of 1995. Since then, it has only been trims whenever I feel the split ends have taken over my head.
Let's get this straight: kids may call me Rapunzel in the supermarket, but I do not have magical hair. It tangles, it splits, it tends to frizz, especially at the beach. I sit on it. I've stepped on it and did a not-so-graceful tumble. I've closed it in the car door (but not an elevator door yet; I get asked that too). It catches on doorknobs or in the door itself and yanks me backwards after I'm already two steps away, and yes, I've fallen on my keister because of that. Kids sneak up behind me and pull it, then run away giggling. My kitty has attached himself to my bum in his attempt to attack it. I once leaned over while vacuuming, had a bunch to fall and get sucked into the canister area, and instantly lost eight inches. Surprisingly, it did not pull at my scalp. It simply ripped.
Basic facts: my hair is brown. I was born blonde, went red when I was 9, and from there it's been getting darker.
History of Hair: It was the 80s. Yes, I did the perm thing. Yes, it looked hideous. That is why you will never see pictures of me from between the years 1987 and 1991. Trust me, it was bad. A few times, I used "Sun In" to lighten my hair, especially when I was transforming into a redhead. I wanted to be blonde again. It seriously killed the hair of both me and my little sister. Nasty stuff!
The only time I dyed my hair was 1997, my senior year of high school. My hair was going red again, so I wanted to try something darker. It was my mother's suggestion to go with "blue-black" hair. Hey, if Mom gives you permission, you go for it! That's all been cut out by now. My hair is "virgin hair," not treated, a nonsmoking environment (except when my upstairs neighbor throws his cigarettes into our planter), no dyed parts left, not permed or anything, I can't stand blow dryers, blah blah.
Why all this about my hair? I'm bored, sue me!
Actually, I had an intriguing interview regarding my hair recently, what inspired me to grow it, what I do with it, how I care for it, and a bunch of such questions, some which I'm asked every frickin' day.
And yes, I am sick of it, so why start your question with "I know you're probably sick of being asked this, but..." Other questions in the interview made me ponder why no one asks more intriguing questions besides "how long does it take to dry." Mein Gott! I am asked that constantly! It's to the point where someone says "Wow, you have lovely hair," and I reply with a snappy, "Three hours! Okay? It takes three hours to dry. No blow dryer. If I braid it wet, it won't dry. Ever! Otherwise, 3 hours!!!"
Honestly, I don't think about "hair care" too often. Lathe, wash, rinse, repeat, you know the drill. But I did some homework after that interview to see if I'm using something that will kill my hair in 20 years. Maybe because I had a time in middle school where my hair was falling out so bad, I actually developed a shiny bald spot the size of a silver dollar, so I'm a tad concerned if something is going to destroy my hair like that. Back then, the solution was simple: use baby shampoo and something that looked like bug tar. Yuck! Nowadays, I got into the habit of buying whatever is at the Dollar Tree. It's cheap, but who cares, right?
Turns out Dollar Tree stuff ain't half bad! White Rain conditioners are "cone free;" they do not use silicone which "glues" your split ends together only to destroy your entire hair shaft in the long run. I also buy VO5 Naturals, which is on the "good" list.
Bad news: the White Rain Naturals Lavender Vanilla Shampoo I use apparently sucks in too many ways to list. For one, it has Ammonium Lauryl Sulfate (not the dreaded carcinogenic Sodium Lauryl Sulfate, but possibly just as bad, it's on the "no-no" ingredients list) plus likely half a dozen other irritant chemicals that I didn't bother to research after seeing that one. That might explain why I sometimes break out in a short-lived rash after showering. It also leaves my hair a bit dry if I wash it too frequently (once or twice a week is usually all I do). Well, it's cheap and it gets my hair clean, but maybe I'll splurge just a little.
One website suggested Kenra Moisturizing Shampoo. That runs $10-18/10oz bottle, depending on where you get it. Another was Monoi Shampoo, which has the "gentler" Sodium Laureth Sulfate (as opposed to "lauryl"). Price: $7-9/7.8oz bottle. Last suggestion I saw was the sulfate-free Back to Basics Blue Lavender Color Protecting Shampoo. At $10/11.5oz bottle, with the 33oz bottle going for $18. That might be my best deal... and it's my favorite LAVENDER!!!
Who am I kidding! I'll still buy from Dollar Tree.
Hair care:
1) rosewood boar bristle brush for daily use;
2) a plastic "worst thing in the world for your hair" brush if I need my hair quickly spot brushed and I don't have to worry about snagging;
3) a very long handled comb, meant for people with arthritis but it's awesome for brushing all the way down to the tip of my hair;
4) a jumbo hair claw, it holds my hair a little too tight, and plastic is rough-edged, but it's durable enough not to "slip" and big enough to hold all of my hair up in a bun;
5) a mega-size metal barrette of a butterfly. I get so many compliments about it, and it's the only clamp of its size on the planet known to actually fit ALL my thick hair at the nape of my neck, but only if it's dry and not twisted in a design;
6) my wrapped no-damage hair holders and variety of scrunchies;
7) a few small rhinestone barrettes if I want to get gussied up;
8) and my new favorite: handmade wooden hair sticks by the wonderful "Style Stix by Jayne" in the Portland Saturday Market. Big plug for her, since she is virtually unknown yet so awesomely affordable. The sticks were a birthday gift from my mother-in-law, custom ordered EXTRA long because Jayne's usual sticks would not go through all my hair. She was so nice to make these custom to my hair thickness, including a handmade cloth carrying case in iridescent black.
Yep, that's about it. Oh, and itty bitty tangle-free elastic bands that I only use if I'm doing tiny braids. Yeah... I told you, I'm not big on "hair care" or fancy hair products. What I have usually works, so that's what I have. Why do I need more? Not that I wouldn't mind some pretties for my hair, but I'm not big on that stuff.
So the interview I mentioned earlier had a bunch of other questions.
Who inspired you to grow your hair? A bad haircut did, combined with a teacher who "complimented" me that I was such an average, unassuming person, with average height, average weight, average hair, etc. That's not what you tell a 16-year-old trying to discover some individuality. So since I couldn't change the rest of me without getting plump or stretching on Wonka's taffy puller, I opted for "different" hair.
How do you wear your hair to bed? Depends on how tired I am. Sometimes it's loose, sometimes it's in a braid, both bug me in different ways. Loose and my husband rolls on top of it, braided and it hurts my neck. My little splurge was getting satin pillow cases to stop morning tangles. [Edit] In response to the commenter below, sleeping with a ponytail is actually really bad for your hair. It can cause horrible knots and breaks.
How long do you want to grow your hair? It's at my knees. That's good for now. I'll keep it there until that 8 inches that I lost in the vacuum cleaner catches up. After that, I'm curious how long it will get.
Do people compliment you or ridicule you? Both. I get stopped every time I go out with my hair down, so if I'm in a rush, it pays to spend a little time to twist it into a fast bun and use my plastic claw from hell. Once in a blue moon, I get the meth freak screaming at me that I'm Jezebel and I'm denying cancer children their wigs. Okay meth lady, try actually reading Locks of Love's website. They don't give to cancer kids. They give to children who will NEVER grow back their hair. Other NPOs do (Pantene for one). If I like my hair long, that's my choice, just like it was your choice to buy that crystal meth this morning. The difference is, it's not a crime to have long hair, so get over it and put down the knife.
Only once has anyone actually pulled a knife out and threatened to chop my hair, and that was my uncle... and no, he wasn't joking about doing it. I have a weird family.
There were other interesting questions that I'm too tired to recall, or the answers would be too long.
Instead, here's some interesting sites about living (and surviving) with long hair.
http://longhair.org/ - long hair club... join the club
http://www.rapunzelsdelight.com/ - pictures of insanely long hair and the designs you can make with it (I am determined to master the "sock bun")
http://www.longhaircommunity.com/ - everything to know about caring for your hair
http://the-light.com/mens/longhair.html - long hair for the laddies
http://www.savvyskin.com/shampoo-ingredients-to-avoid - watch what you buy
http://www.longhaircareforum.com/forums/showthread.php?t=196051 - good cone-free conditioners (this sort of started my whole hair binge research thing)
http://www.tenderheaded.com/ - the combs here come highly recommended, I'll likely buy one soon
http://www.longlocks.com/ - great hair sticks... wish I could afford some of these
http://www.ficcare.com/ - fancy hair clamps, wish I could afford these too
http://beyondclassic.awardspace.us/choose.html - blog on hair, including commended products, an insane collection of hair goodies, and videos on designs good for knee-length hair. I still can't do a french twist with my hair, but she does.
Pantene Beautiful Lengths - If you are growing out your hair for donation, DO NOT use Locks of Love unless you are a child. They do not use adult hair at all, but sell it to other wig makers to cover administrative costs, or they simply toss it out if it has gray or damaged from color and heat treatments.
Do you want to know that those five years of diligent care and growth were used to pay some manager's Christmas bonus, or even THROWN OUT LIKE TRASH? They also charge the patient's family for the wigs. It's a sliding scale discount, but a good friend who's family dealt with Locks of Love said it still cost them hundreds of dollars just for one wig. Plus they don't give to cancer patients, nor do they claim to do so. Folks saw commercials of bald kids and assumed that they were chemo patients. Lock of Love never openly corrected the error, which I find despicable.
Okay, correction: they give wigs to a single form of cancer where basically chemo can never be stopped, therefore the child will never grow hair. That's the only one.
Yes, they do give to children with medical needs, but I would say 90% of the people donating to Locks of Love are doing so with the intent of helping cancer kids. I have met dozens of people who come up admiring my hair with stories of how they miss their long locks, but "It's all good, I donated them to Locks of Love after I lost my mother/sister/best friend/child to cancer. It'll go to a cancer kid." I cringe in pity, and I rarely tell them the truth because they look so happy about their good deed.
If you want your hair to go to ACTUAL CANCER PATIENTS, please consider using Pantene Beautiful Lengths.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Masochistic Reading
When I'm feeling down and think I suck as a writer, I read some of the tripe on fanfiction.net and realize "at least I'm not like them."
For their credit, some of the short stories are amusing. Some are epic! Some would make amazing stories if only the writer had invented original characters instead of borrowing others (of course, then it wouldn't be "fan fiction"). And some really do get published. Have you seen how many shelves of Star Trek paperbacks are in Barnes and Noble?
Writing as a way to obsess over your favorite story can be a healthy way to experiment with styles without the pressure of deadlines. I've written fan fiction for Star Trek and Quantum Leap, usually as collaborations with my husband. It's not publish-quality, but it was fun.
Today was not a day to marvel at talented storytelling, but to convince myself "at least I'm not that bad." And I found my salvation. I will give the "writer" - and I use the term lightly - the grace of not linking to her story or mentioning her name. She is, sadly, one of many who post sordid excuses of fiction onto the internet every day. Her short story was so bad, I had to write about it so I would not obsess over it all day and let it ruin my own writing time.
Now, for truly wretched scrawling, no one can't get any worse than Tara Gilesbie's classic "My Immortal." Simply google "worst fanfiction" and you'll find it. It was deemed so bad that fanfiction.net, home of so much crap it makes dung beetles have aneurysms, finally pulled the story down from their server. Yet its utterly horrendous legacy lives on.
http://myimmortalrehost.webs.com/
[Warning: reading one paragraph will lower your IQ by ten points. You automatically forfeit your high school diploma and all university degrees if you finish all 40 chapters (and her definition of a "chapter" is one paragraph and a dozen lines of dialog). I once managed to read up to seven of those putrescent chapters before I got a huge headache and had to read some Dostoevsky to assure myself I was not in Purgatory. You have been warned.]
The story I read was not that bad. Still, it was quite awful. It was painfully apparent that this writer was maybe 13 with no understanding of even basic social skills. She must have received "inspiration" in what constitutes literature via text messaging her fellow 8th graders and by reading the aforementioned "My Immortal." She had a minimal grasp of the English language (I hope she was from another country... I really, really hope), and no sense of grammar at all, let alone spelling. I mean, seriously, spell-check exists even in this Note I'm writing. Use it!
It was also obvious that the writer used a thesaurus to sound intelligent while picking totally wrong words for the situation. "But dey is the loooongest words I find, so dey make me look more smart, so I dont care wat u says." I use thesauruses all the time when I just can't recall the word I need, but I at least have an idea of what I'm trying to say. Using unknown "heavy" words will likely make you sound less educated than keeping to one-to-two syllables.
To get your ideas across use small words, big ideas, and short sentences.
- John Henry Patterson
Let's not forget one of my favorite pet peeves: using twenty exclamation points does not mean the character screamed twenty times louder than a single exclamation point. Use up to three in emails and IM'ing if you think pounding Shift-1 helps to relieve stress, or use caps for shouting emphasis, but not in a story meant to be taken seriously.
Also, people do not literally say "LOL." They laugh. So type "She cackled viciously as she insulted him," and we all know what you mean, not "LOL... u is soooo stoopid." Honestly!
Language aside, the writer included a "flashback" repeating two lines of dialog that just occurred. I'm assuming she imagined that would be the commercial break, although it was in no way a climax or cliffhanger, nor a place where the studio would logically cut to show the writer's favorite Lucky Charms commercial.
One character wore a purple bikini, then suddenly had on a blue dress, then it was red in the next sentence, then she magically switched to tan pants. The male character also had polychromatic superpowers, as his eyes changed color too many times to decide which shade she intended.
Now, I've written stories where I accidentally changed a character's eyes from green to blue simply because I did not make a character profile, but this is "fan fiction." These are established characters. This particular story was about an anime, so it's drawn in color for the fan to observe and describe. Despite many magical things that happen in Japanese animation, this character does not have color-shifting eyes. They are blue. Not green, not brown, not purple, not golden. Blue.
My favorite lines:
1) Nothing pounds home a person's intent like emphasis, right? "She looked deeply into his deep green eyes that is as deep as the sea and so deeply intense it was like looking deep into a human soul's deepest heart." Now that's deep!
2) Just as confusing: "She blushed a deeper dimness of scarlet red." Dimness?
3) But nothing quite proves one is a talented writer as inventing unique ways of describing simple actions. "She vomited tears like crocodiles." That's certainly a revoltingly visual if I've ever read one.
The torment of reading this short fan fiction in no way inspired me out of my writer's block, but it did cheer me up. I now realize I am at least a fluent and well-trained writer. I can read the classics without resorting the Cliff Notes. I have assisted many other aspiring writers, using my grammar-nazi'ing obsession for good.
And I don't vomit tears!
For their credit, some of the short stories are amusing. Some are epic! Some would make amazing stories if only the writer had invented original characters instead of borrowing others (of course, then it wouldn't be "fan fiction"). And some really do get published. Have you seen how many shelves of Star Trek paperbacks are in Barnes and Noble?
Writing as a way to obsess over your favorite story can be a healthy way to experiment with styles without the pressure of deadlines. I've written fan fiction for Star Trek and Quantum Leap, usually as collaborations with my husband. It's not publish-quality, but it was fun.
Today was not a day to marvel at talented storytelling, but to convince myself "at least I'm not that bad." And I found my salvation. I will give the "writer" - and I use the term lightly - the grace of not linking to her story or mentioning her name. She is, sadly, one of many who post sordid excuses of fiction onto the internet every day. Her short story was so bad, I had to write about it so I would not obsess over it all day and let it ruin my own writing time.
Now, for truly wretched scrawling, no one can't get any worse than Tara Gilesbie's classic "My Immortal." Simply google "worst fanfiction" and you'll find it. It was deemed so bad that fanfiction.net, home of so much crap it makes dung beetles have aneurysms, finally pulled the story down from their server. Yet its utterly horrendous legacy lives on.
http://myimmortalrehost.webs.com/
[Warning: reading one paragraph will lower your IQ by ten points. You automatically forfeit your high school diploma and all university degrees if you finish all 40 chapters (and her definition of a "chapter" is one paragraph and a dozen lines of dialog). I once managed to read up to seven of those putrescent chapters before I got a huge headache and had to read some Dostoevsky to assure myself I was not in Purgatory. You have been warned.]
The story I read was not that bad. Still, it was quite awful. It was painfully apparent that this writer was maybe 13 with no understanding of even basic social skills. She must have received "inspiration" in what constitutes literature via text messaging her fellow 8th graders and by reading the aforementioned "My Immortal." She had a minimal grasp of the English language (I hope she was from another country... I really, really hope), and no sense of grammar at all, let alone spelling. I mean, seriously, spell-check exists even in this Note I'm writing. Use it!
It was also obvious that the writer used a thesaurus to sound intelligent while picking totally wrong words for the situation. "But dey is the loooongest words I find, so dey make me look more smart, so I dont care wat u says." I use thesauruses all the time when I just can't recall the word I need, but I at least have an idea of what I'm trying to say. Using unknown "heavy" words will likely make you sound less educated than keeping to one-to-two syllables.
To get your ideas across use small words, big ideas, and short sentences.
- John Henry Patterson
Let's not forget one of my favorite pet peeves: using twenty exclamation points does not mean the character screamed twenty times louder than a single exclamation point. Use up to three in emails and IM'ing if you think pounding Shift-1 helps to relieve stress, or use caps for shouting emphasis, but not in a story meant to be taken seriously.
Also, people do not literally say "LOL." They laugh. So type "She cackled viciously as she insulted him," and we all know what you mean, not "LOL... u is soooo stoopid." Honestly!
Language aside, the writer included a "flashback" repeating two lines of dialog that just occurred. I'm assuming she imagined that would be the commercial break, although it was in no way a climax or cliffhanger, nor a place where the studio would logically cut to show the writer's favorite Lucky Charms commercial.
One character wore a purple bikini, then suddenly had on a blue dress, then it was red in the next sentence, then she magically switched to tan pants. The male character also had polychromatic superpowers, as his eyes changed color too many times to decide which shade she intended.
Now, I've written stories where I accidentally changed a character's eyes from green to blue simply because I did not make a character profile, but this is "fan fiction." These are established characters. This particular story was about an anime, so it's drawn in color for the fan to observe and describe. Despite many magical things that happen in Japanese animation, this character does not have color-shifting eyes. They are blue. Not green, not brown, not purple, not golden. Blue.
My favorite lines:
1) Nothing pounds home a person's intent like emphasis, right? "She looked deeply into his deep green eyes that is as deep as the sea and so deeply intense it was like looking deep into a human soul's deepest heart." Now that's deep!
2) Just as confusing: "She blushed a deeper dimness of scarlet red." Dimness?
3) But nothing quite proves one is a talented writer as inventing unique ways of describing simple actions. "She vomited tears like crocodiles." That's certainly a revoltingly visual if I've ever read one.
The torment of reading this short fan fiction in no way inspired me out of my writer's block, but it did cheer me up. I now realize I am at least a fluent and well-trained writer. I can read the classics without resorting the Cliff Notes. I have assisted many other aspiring writers, using my grammar-nazi'ing obsession for good.
And I don't vomit tears!
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Busy Week
Well, I'm off to play a concert at Bridgeport Village tonight at 6pm. If you're in the Portland area, come on down and help stimulate the economy.
After the concert is over, Matt and I are scurrying over to Stub Stewart State Park for Field Day 2009. If you happen to be into amateur radio, listen in and try to find "W7OTV" out of the pure chaos as people around the world test out how to keep the lines of communication open during a state of emergency (solar power and generators, for our group). We like to take the night shift (except for the generator noise). So from 9pm to 11am, we'll be calling out "CQCQ" and talking to people around the world. I love bringing my camera and taking pictures right at sunrise, since the park is so amazingly picturesque. The radio operators are also funny to photograph at 5am.
Which means tomorrow we crash and sleep all day. I like that plan!
Monday is a special day. I'm fixing dinner for a lady in my band name Kristine who gave birth to a baby who will not survive long. In fact, she wasn't supposed to make it to birth, but by a pure miracle little Leah Grace has lived three months.
Please read her story here, but have the tissues ready:
http://www.tigardtimes.com/news/story.php?story_id=124408039674470200
It's a joy and agony to Kristine and her husband, holding their child and never knowing when her time will be up. Her church and our band joined forces to fix dinners and pitch in donations for house-cleaners to help the family. We have no money, but I sure can cook! I'm going to make my special parmesan-chicken-ranch-basil-pasta-casserole thing (I have not come up with a name for it yet). Matt has fallen in love with it, and it is super simple, so I can make enough for them and us.
Tuesday is band practice. I had a cold sore last week and couldn't play, so I'm looking forward to this week.
Then Thursday, July 2, is our "dating anniversary," eleven years as a couple. I have no idea what we're going to do, since money is tight. Olive Garden is our traditional dinner. yummmmmmm!
Then comes the Fourth of July. We have a parade in the morning, then we're playing for the Tigard Fireworks Show, the biggest fireworks display in the western suburbs. It always draws a massive crowd. Lots of Sousa and patriotic music for that day. And we get to watch the fireworks, so it's all good!!!
So, that's going to be my week, minus all the joyful surprises that pop up. Looks like this summer will be eventful.
After the concert is over, Matt and I are scurrying over to Stub Stewart State Park for Field Day 2009. If you happen to be into amateur radio, listen in and try to find "W7OTV" out of the pure chaos as people around the world test out how to keep the lines of communication open during a state of emergency (solar power and generators, for our group). We like to take the night shift (except for the generator noise). So from 9pm to 11am, we'll be calling out "CQCQ" and talking to people around the world. I love bringing my camera and taking pictures right at sunrise, since the park is so amazingly picturesque. The radio operators are also funny to photograph at 5am.
Which means tomorrow we crash and sleep all day. I like that plan!
Monday is a special day. I'm fixing dinner for a lady in my band name Kristine who gave birth to a baby who will not survive long. In fact, she wasn't supposed to make it to birth, but by a pure miracle little Leah Grace has lived three months.
Please read her story here, but have the tissues ready:
http://www.tigardtimes.com/news/story.php?story_id=124408039674470200
It's a joy and agony to Kristine and her husband, holding their child and never knowing when her time will be up. Her church and our band joined forces to fix dinners and pitch in donations for house-cleaners to help the family. We have no money, but I sure can cook! I'm going to make my special parmesan-chicken-ranch-basil-pasta-casserole thing (I have not come up with a name for it yet). Matt has fallen in love with it, and it is super simple, so I can make enough for them and us.
Tuesday is band practice. I had a cold sore last week and couldn't play, so I'm looking forward to this week.
Then Thursday, July 2, is our "dating anniversary," eleven years as a couple. I have no idea what we're going to do, since money is tight. Olive Garden is our traditional dinner. yummmmmmm!
Then comes the Fourth of July. We have a parade in the morning, then we're playing for the Tigard Fireworks Show, the biggest fireworks display in the western suburbs. It always draws a massive crowd. Lots of Sousa and patriotic music for that day. And we get to watch the fireworks, so it's all good!!!
So, that's going to be my week, minus all the joyful surprises that pop up. Looks like this summer will be eventful.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
History Repeats
My husband and I were discussing politics, mostly him complaining about the turn toward socialism our country is taking. He wryly asked "What happened when Rome fell?"
Never ask a history buff a question like that!
That led me to a huge research bonanza on the collapse of the Roman Empire. Of course, the theories as to what triggered the fall are varied, as there can be no single source for something so massive. Plague, drought, economics, wars, religion, all play some role in the massive stage of this tragedy.
Instead of boring you with my research, let me point out one issue that piqued my interest.
Most historians agree that the beginning of the end began in 234 CE, with the "Crisis of the Third Century," a time of economic meltdown that makes the Great Depression look like a bounced check. It led to a shift in military and civilian life, which led to political anarchy.
A quick summary: the Sassanids of Persia threatened the eastern edge of the Roman Empire. Rome sent 20-25% of its military to the Middle East to deal with it. To accomplish this, they expanded the military by 1/4. Roman citizens did not want to fight a war far from home, so Rome was forced to recruit from the Germanic tribes to the north. In order to pay these new soldiers, they changed their coinage. Instead of pure silver, coins were made with cheap fillers. This caused a hyperinflation. Money became worthless. Trade was carried out in bartering. The imperial network of trade and economy collapsed, since they could not purchase items with their worthless coins. This led to a shift in policy, as Rome became most socialistic. People were ordered where to work, no choice. To force them to remain, workers were organized and forced into guilds, while businesses were grouped into what was called collegia. Laws forbade citizens from moving out of cities into the country to find work. Farmers were also tied to the land. Taxation became so inflated, people fled this life, regardless of the laws, and came to rich landowners seeking refuge, becoming a half-free class of citizen of coloni, what we call today "serfs." This directly led into the de-evolution from the world of Antiquity to Medieval feudalism.
Got all that? I know, it's a lot to digest. Cliff Notes: Rome fights Persians with Germanic soldiers, taxes the hell out of citizens, pumps their money into "foreign investments" (aka mercenaries), and collapses the economy in the process.
Meanwhile, the Persians took over the area around the Black Sea, pushing the Huns out. The Huns invaded northern Europe, pushing the newly-enriched German tribes southward, leading to many conflicts between these Visigoths and the Roman Empire, which led to the Sack of Rome in 410.
So... Rome responds to a threat from the Middle East, focuses a vast majority of its military there. Persia pushes on the Huns, who push on Europe. Meanwhile, Rome has given the Germanic tribes money and weapons. Once the wars cause Rome's infrastructure to teeter (leading to a spike in taxes, a turn toward socialism, and resulting in anarchy), the Visigoths use those weapons against the ones who provided them and strike from the north while Roman troops are focused in the Middle East.
Hmmmm!!!
America responds to terrorist threats in the Middle East, focusing many of our soldiers there. The Middle East pushes against India. India increases its military, which then makes Korea feel threatened. Meanwhile, America gave Korea a nuclear reactor back in the 70s, which recently led to Korea stating it is going to start building nukes. One missile they launched hit Alaska. (Anyone remember that? I bet Sarah Palin does!) Once the "war on terror" causes America's infrastructure to teeter (leading to a spike in taxes, a turn toward socialism, and likely resulting in anarchy), Korea strikes us from the north while American troops are focused on the Middle East.
OMGZ, it's the Sake of Rome all over again, but with NUKES!!! Run to your bomb shelters!!! WAAAAH!
Okay, comedy aside, I do believe history will forever repeat itself, and if we don't watch out, we're going to see something bad happen to this country. Maybe not immediately. From the Crisis of the Third Century to the Sake of Rome, almost 180 years passed. But events happened slowly back then. One could say our critical error was giving nuclear power to Korea, and that was Carter's administration. 30 years later...
I told all this to my husband. He says I should put in an application to be Obama's Historical Adviser. I wouldn't be good at that, for the same reason I'd make a horrible teacher. I'm prone to whack information into someone... literally.
Can I get an avatar of Obama being whacked over the head with a history book? :D
Never ask a history buff a question like that!
That led me to a huge research bonanza on the collapse of the Roman Empire. Of course, the theories as to what triggered the fall are varied, as there can be no single source for something so massive. Plague, drought, economics, wars, religion, all play some role in the massive stage of this tragedy.
Instead of boring you with my research, let me point out one issue that piqued my interest.
Most historians agree that the beginning of the end began in 234 CE, with the "Crisis of the Third Century," a time of economic meltdown that makes the Great Depression look like a bounced check. It led to a shift in military and civilian life, which led to political anarchy.
A quick summary: the Sassanids of Persia threatened the eastern edge of the Roman Empire. Rome sent 20-25% of its military to the Middle East to deal with it. To accomplish this, they expanded the military by 1/4. Roman citizens did not want to fight a war far from home, so Rome was forced to recruit from the Germanic tribes to the north. In order to pay these new soldiers, they changed their coinage. Instead of pure silver, coins were made with cheap fillers. This caused a hyperinflation. Money became worthless. Trade was carried out in bartering. The imperial network of trade and economy collapsed, since they could not purchase items with their worthless coins. This led to a shift in policy, as Rome became most socialistic. People were ordered where to work, no choice. To force them to remain, workers were organized and forced into guilds, while businesses were grouped into what was called collegia. Laws forbade citizens from moving out of cities into the country to find work. Farmers were also tied to the land. Taxation became so inflated, people fled this life, regardless of the laws, and came to rich landowners seeking refuge, becoming a half-free class of citizen of coloni, what we call today "serfs." This directly led into the de-evolution from the world of Antiquity to Medieval feudalism.
Got all that? I know, it's a lot to digest. Cliff Notes: Rome fights Persians with Germanic soldiers, taxes the hell out of citizens, pumps their money into "foreign investments" (aka mercenaries), and collapses the economy in the process.
Meanwhile, the Persians took over the area around the Black Sea, pushing the Huns out. The Huns invaded northern Europe, pushing the newly-enriched German tribes southward, leading to many conflicts between these Visigoths and the Roman Empire, which led to the Sack of Rome in 410.
So... Rome responds to a threat from the Middle East, focuses a vast majority of its military there. Persia pushes on the Huns, who push on Europe. Meanwhile, Rome has given the Germanic tribes money and weapons. Once the wars cause Rome's infrastructure to teeter (leading to a spike in taxes, a turn toward socialism, and resulting in anarchy), the Visigoths use those weapons against the ones who provided them and strike from the north while Roman troops are focused in the Middle East.
Hmmmm!!!
America responds to terrorist threats in the Middle East, focusing many of our soldiers there. The Middle East pushes against India. India increases its military, which then makes Korea feel threatened. Meanwhile, America gave Korea a nuclear reactor back in the 70s, which recently led to Korea stating it is going to start building nukes. One missile they launched hit Alaska. (Anyone remember that? I bet Sarah Palin does!) Once the "war on terror" causes America's infrastructure to teeter (leading to a spike in taxes, a turn toward socialism, and likely resulting in anarchy), Korea strikes us from the north while American troops are focused on the Middle East.
OMGZ, it's the Sake of Rome all over again, but with NUKES!!! Run to your bomb shelters!!! WAAAAH!
Okay, comedy aside, I do believe history will forever repeat itself, and if we don't watch out, we're going to see something bad happen to this country. Maybe not immediately. From the Crisis of the Third Century to the Sake of Rome, almost 180 years passed. But events happened slowly back then. One could say our critical error was giving nuclear power to Korea, and that was Carter's administration. 30 years later...
I told all this to my husband. He says I should put in an application to be Obama's Historical Adviser. I wouldn't be good at that, for the same reason I'd make a horrible teacher. I'm prone to whack information into someone... literally.
Can I get an avatar of Obama being whacked over the head with a history book? :D
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Indiginous People Around the World
As some of you know, I've been intrigued with Native American culture since hearing that my ancestor was George Guess, aka Sequoyah, claimed to be the inventor of the Cherokee writing system, and yes, the redwood was named after him. This dubious ancestry has since been proven false.
"Sequoyah," really a portrait of Thomas Maw. Sequoyah was branded on
the forehead and had his ears cut off by White Men.
By the way, the story you may have heard in elementary school of Sequoyah is totally made up by White Men. Please read the true and gruesomely tragic real story of Sogwili, also known as Tahlontisoge, Sequoyah, George Guess, and other names. It is a good view into how White Men made up stories to cover up their barbaric deeds.
http://www.ani-kutani.com/nativeamericanfacts/tahlontisoge.htm
I do have Cherokee ancestry on my mother's side, which I uncovered in my genealogical research. My great-grandmother was Cherokee and had possession of Native lands in Oklahoma. At least, that was HER story, as told by my grandfather. Other members of her family stodgily deny any Cherokee heritage and insist she was descended from a famous British captain. Considering many people during that time period tried to hide any indigenous roots, I doubt Great-grandma Sada was lying.
Despite all this confusion, my interest in indigenous cultures continues. I studied Native American Anthropology in college and fell in love with lithology. Studying the various styles of arrowheads and the way they were formed is my favorite, and my professor was extremely impressed with my collection. She even allowed me to borrow her special collection of stone utensils for photography records. Prof. Bogdan was awesome like that!
This interest is slowly expanding. First, due to a book I was writing, I became intrigued with Australian Aborigines and their concept of Dreamtime. Then I fell in love with Tuvan throat-singing and began studying them and the Inuits, with their unique katajjaq.
Tuvan throat-singer
From there, I read about the Ainu people of Japan and their sadly lost musical art form known as rekuhkara. This technique was lost over thirty years ago. It's a case of a dominate society forcing a minority to "integrate" by forbidding their heritage. This is a common theme amongst many indigenous groups.
Ainu have lighter skin and wavy hair. Their thick beards are a sign of beauty,
so that women tattooed mustaches on their lips.
I'm also looking into indigenous groups of Europe. That gets to be a little harder, as tribes wandered all over and conquests occurred frequently. For instance, the British Isles were cleared of inhabitants by the Ice Ages, but after the glaciers pulled back, the first inhabitants to enter the land were of the Aurignacian culture (yes, I am a British history buff). Gaelic culture is also intriguing, especially since my grandmother was Irish. According to Wikipedia (I had to make sure I was right in this), the Britons are considered the indigenous group of southern Great Britain, and even they replaced others.
Conquests and dominance, that is the history of our world.
The Basques especially intrigue me ever since I read Shibumi (a novel which influenced much of my writing, even though I'm not into spy novels really). I've also found myself reading many articles on the Sami people of Scandinavia. It's ironic that these "white natives" are discriminated against even by other indigenous people... until you hear them sing a joik. Google it, it is so beautiful!!!
Sami family, circa 1900
I'm not sure what I'm rambling about now. I suppose my point in all this is to expose people to other indigenous cultures. Perhaps when you hear "native" you think Cherokee, Lakota, Apache, and Sioux. Many Americans do. They ignore the fact that most Mexicans come from Aztec and Mayans people, making them as "Native American" as the Gabrielino (the Natives of the area that is now Orange County, my hometown), and the Clackamas (the Natives of the area I now live in Oregon).
No matter where you go in the world, these old traditions have been persecuted, the dominant race eager to stamp them out or "integrate" them. Be it Aborigines, Tuvan, the Ainu, Basques, or the Sami, these ancient cultures are being threatened, and many are lost to us. This is a sad cycle, repeated over and over, one tribe defeating another, one race pushing out another, one country dominating another. In the struggle for power, the small are lost, but I hope they are not completely forgotten.
"Sequoyah," really a portrait of Thomas Maw. Sequoyah was branded onthe forehead and had his ears cut off by White Men.
By the way, the story you may have heard in elementary school of Sequoyah is totally made up by White Men. Please read the true and gruesomely tragic real story of Sogwili, also known as Tahlontisoge, Sequoyah, George Guess, and other names. It is a good view into how White Men made up stories to cover up their barbaric deeds.
http://www.ani-kutani.com/nativeamericanfacts/tahlontisoge.htm
I do have Cherokee ancestry on my mother's side, which I uncovered in my genealogical research. My great-grandmother was Cherokee and had possession of Native lands in Oklahoma. At least, that was HER story, as told by my grandfather. Other members of her family stodgily deny any Cherokee heritage and insist she was descended from a famous British captain. Considering many people during that time period tried to hide any indigenous roots, I doubt Great-grandma Sada was lying.
Despite all this confusion, my interest in indigenous cultures continues. I studied Native American Anthropology in college and fell in love with lithology. Studying the various styles of arrowheads and the way they were formed is my favorite, and my professor was extremely impressed with my collection. She even allowed me to borrow her special collection of stone utensils for photography records. Prof. Bogdan was awesome like that!
This interest is slowly expanding. First, due to a book I was writing, I became intrigued with Australian Aborigines and their concept of Dreamtime. Then I fell in love with Tuvan throat-singing and began studying them and the Inuits, with their unique katajjaq.
Tuvan throat-singerFrom there, I read about the Ainu people of Japan and their sadly lost musical art form known as rekuhkara. This technique was lost over thirty years ago. It's a case of a dominate society forcing a minority to "integrate" by forbidding their heritage. This is a common theme amongst many indigenous groups.
Ainu have lighter skin and wavy hair. Their thick beards are a sign of beauty,so that women tattooed mustaches on their lips.
I'm also looking into indigenous groups of Europe. That gets to be a little harder, as tribes wandered all over and conquests occurred frequently. For instance, the British Isles were cleared of inhabitants by the Ice Ages, but after the glaciers pulled back, the first inhabitants to enter the land were of the Aurignacian culture (yes, I am a British history buff). Gaelic culture is also intriguing, especially since my grandmother was Irish. According to Wikipedia (I had to make sure I was right in this), the Britons are considered the indigenous group of southern Great Britain, and even they replaced others.
Conquests and dominance, that is the history of our world.
The Basques especially intrigue me ever since I read Shibumi (a novel which influenced much of my writing, even though I'm not into spy novels really). I've also found myself reading many articles on the Sami people of Scandinavia. It's ironic that these "white natives" are discriminated against even by other indigenous people... until you hear them sing a joik. Google it, it is so beautiful!!!
Sami family, circa 1900I'm not sure what I'm rambling about now. I suppose my point in all this is to expose people to other indigenous cultures. Perhaps when you hear "native" you think Cherokee, Lakota, Apache, and Sioux. Many Americans do. They ignore the fact that most Mexicans come from Aztec and Mayans people, making them as "Native American" as the Gabrielino (the Natives of the area that is now Orange County, my hometown), and the Clackamas (the Natives of the area I now live in Oregon).
No matter where you go in the world, these old traditions have been persecuted, the dominant race eager to stamp them out or "integrate" them. Be it Aborigines, Tuvan, the Ainu, Basques, or the Sami, these ancient cultures are being threatened, and many are lost to us. This is a sad cycle, repeated over and over, one tribe defeating another, one race pushing out another, one country dominating another. In the struggle for power, the small are lost, but I hope they are not completely forgotten.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Star Trek (both a Non-Spoiler and a Spoiler review)
My husband and I went to see the new Star Trek movie last night. No, we did not go as Vulcans. Yes, we did wear a few things to make us geeks. He had on his communicator pin, I wore my Bajoran earring, sans the nose ridges, enough to still be "cool" (aka geeky) without getting raised eyebrows. Cosplaying really only works on opening night, anyway. We tried going in full regalia the day after opening night during "Insurrection" and only got crowds staring at us.
First, my non-spoiler review.
The movie itself was great, far exceeding my expectations. I went into this trying to avoid spoilers and reviews, hoping to formulate my own opinion, yet still unable to sidestep the fan complaints (mostly from Matt) about the design of the new (old) ship and the look of the bridge. So I really didn't know what to expect, but still had rather low expectations. The first few minutes were enough to make me go "wow, this is going to be awesome."
Every actor took these well-loved, well-established characters and did them justice, holding onto certain mannerisms while still doing their own take on the characters. It was enough for people who grew up with Star Trek to nod and smile, while newer audiences could come to love these characters without... any... odd speech... patterns. Yes, I was VERY relieved Chris Pine did not assume Shatner's unique way of speaking. He gave the part the pure essence of "Kirk" without imitation. I felt this was true for many of the characters.
The plot is not completely unique. Time travel has been far overused in the sci-fi genre, in my opinion. Some of the technical aspects are totally not canon. I'm not talking special effects. How they portray transporters is up to the SFX team. I'm talking transporting while at warp. I'm not that "into" such details, but Matt pointed out that even in TNG, they had to drop out of warp, then beam someone.
What made me shake my head were some of the more specific scenes. Let me put it in Star Wars terms. Let's say they made a Star Wars prequel (yes, I know, they did three, and they were mediocre). Only, in the prequel, they kill off Captain Antilles (a minor character who still affects the plot), they blow up Endor (massacring all those cute Ewoks before they have a chance to save the Rebels), and Padme falls for Mace Windu (you know, Samuel L Jackson's awesome character). Yeah, that about does the "what the hell" aspect of this movie justice without spoiling any details.
For an explanation of what I mean, read the spoilers below.
================
================
SPOILER WARNING
================
================
(The following contains spoilers from the Star Trek movie, including plot and character development)
================
================
YOU HAVE BEEN DULY WARNED
================
================
Is that enough of a warning? :P
Okay, within the first ten minutes, I was shaking my head going "Wait a minute there! Kirk's father didn't die like that... did he? Um...." So see, the average Star Trek enthusiast is probably not going to realize anything is wrong. Someone like Matt will be chomping at the bit already. And that's the first scene!!!
Things seem to get better. We meet young Kirk and Spock, find Uhura in a bar, meet McCoy, and are even graced by Captain Pike, all beautiful faces, all holding true to their characters while putting in their own take. We see Kirk in academy, but it quickly jumps back to where Star Trek belongs... in space! Our beloved characters (Chekov and Sulu included, still no Scotty) all meet together on the bridge of the Enterprise.
That's where the fun begins. Biggest spoiler yet... ready for it?... They blow up Vulcan!
That's right, the planet goes byebye. 6 billion Vulcans plus Spock's mother die in the destruction.
Okay, right there I'm going "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot!!!" Even your casual TV watcher will know planet Vulcan is still around, and Vulcans are not suddenly made into an endangered species.
The next eyebrow raising moment comes minutes after the destruction.
Uhuru + Spock
That's right, take the sexy black girl in a mini skirt and the stoic half-Vulcan with the bowl cut, put them in a tumbolift, and have a make-out scene. Not only that, but in hindsight, they appear to have a relationship while at the academy... and Spock is totally whipped!!! Uhura puts on a little pouty "but I wanted to be on the Enterprise with you" act and Spock cows to her wishes despite the roster already being set, certainly breaking a few regulations while he's at it. Spock ends up with more smooch time than Kirk... now that's just WRONG! Watching Spock kiss anyone is enough to raise your Vulcan eyebrows. "Fascinating" hardly covers it.
Everything is explained nicely, though. See, the bad guy is from the future, and he's screwing up the past. He's the one who killed Kirk's father, destroyed Vulcan, and by the end of the movie, creates a massive black hole near Saturn (which may or may not have collapsed on itself, Matt and I are still arguing that). So see, it's all a parallel universe.
I was seriously expecting a Voyager-special (aka, big "reset button" at the end, fix the timeline and everything reverts to what we expect). In a way, I'm glad they didn't do that. It works for a one-hour weekly series (once or twice, not a dozen times, Voyager!) but if you pull that stunt in a big movie, there will be rioting in the aisles as audiences complain "why did I spend $9 on a movie when none of it really happened in the end?"
This leads to one of two scenarios.
1) This is really gonna go where no one has gone before as the franchise embraces this "alternative" Star Trek universe (bad idea for the fan base).
2) They'll fix the whole thing in the sequel. Which means a reset button for TWO movies.
I'm betting on #2. These guys aren't dumb. They've hook the new audiences with big names, big fight scenes, and SFX which audiences have come to expect (Trekkers might complain that it's too much, but anything less would have been a disappointment to moviegoers and critics). Now you need to reel the fan base back in with a sequel that promises to fix the timeline.
This means Spock will be faced with the emotional dilemma of fixing time and restoring his planet, but at the expense of losing Uhura, since Spock Prime will inform him that they were never meant to hook up (Did I mention young Spock meets old Spock? That's a whole other story, but it worked so no complaints here.) Kirk will of course want this route, since it means his father will not have been killed by Nero. Audiences will be torn between "I want my daddy" from Kirk and "but I love her" from Spock. Confrontation ensues, probably with more Kirk/Spock fistfights. Fans will want the timeline to right itself, yet pity Spock.
Sounds like another blockbuster in the making!
So that's my two cents.
Live long and prosper!
First, my non-spoiler review.
The movie itself was great, far exceeding my expectations. I went into this trying to avoid spoilers and reviews, hoping to formulate my own opinion, yet still unable to sidestep the fan complaints (mostly from Matt) about the design of the new (old) ship and the look of the bridge. So I really didn't know what to expect, but still had rather low expectations. The first few minutes were enough to make me go "wow, this is going to be awesome."
Every actor took these well-loved, well-established characters and did them justice, holding onto certain mannerisms while still doing their own take on the characters. It was enough for people who grew up with Star Trek to nod and smile, while newer audiences could come to love these characters without... any... odd speech... patterns. Yes, I was VERY relieved Chris Pine did not assume Shatner's unique way of speaking. He gave the part the pure essence of "Kirk" without imitation. I felt this was true for many of the characters.
The plot is not completely unique. Time travel has been far overused in the sci-fi genre, in my opinion. Some of the technical aspects are totally not canon. I'm not talking special effects. How they portray transporters is up to the SFX team. I'm talking transporting while at warp. I'm not that "into" such details, but Matt pointed out that even in TNG, they had to drop out of warp, then beam someone.
What made me shake my head were some of the more specific scenes. Let me put it in Star Wars terms. Let's say they made a Star Wars prequel (yes, I know, they did three, and they were mediocre). Only, in the prequel, they kill off Captain Antilles (a minor character who still affects the plot), they blow up Endor (massacring all those cute Ewoks before they have a chance to save the Rebels), and Padme falls for Mace Windu (you know, Samuel L Jackson's awesome character). Yeah, that about does the "what the hell" aspect of this movie justice without spoiling any details.
For an explanation of what I mean, read the spoilers below.
================
================
SPOILER WARNING
================
================
(The following contains spoilers from the Star Trek movie, including plot and character development)
================
================
YOU HAVE BEEN DULY WARNED
================
================
Is that enough of a warning? :P
Okay, within the first ten minutes, I was shaking my head going "Wait a minute there! Kirk's father didn't die like that... did he? Um...." So see, the average Star Trek enthusiast is probably not going to realize anything is wrong. Someone like Matt will be chomping at the bit already. And that's the first scene!!!
Things seem to get better. We meet young Kirk and Spock, find Uhura in a bar, meet McCoy, and are even graced by Captain Pike, all beautiful faces, all holding true to their characters while putting in their own take. We see Kirk in academy, but it quickly jumps back to where Star Trek belongs... in space! Our beloved characters (Chekov and Sulu included, still no Scotty) all meet together on the bridge of the Enterprise.
That's where the fun begins. Biggest spoiler yet... ready for it?... They blow up Vulcan!
That's right, the planet goes byebye. 6 billion Vulcans plus Spock's mother die in the destruction.
Okay, right there I'm going "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot!!!" Even your casual TV watcher will know planet Vulcan is still around, and Vulcans are not suddenly made into an endangered species.
The next eyebrow raising moment comes minutes after the destruction.
Uhuru + Spock
That's right, take the sexy black girl in a mini skirt and the stoic half-Vulcan with the bowl cut, put them in a tumbolift, and have a make-out scene. Not only that, but in hindsight, they appear to have a relationship while at the academy... and Spock is totally whipped!!! Uhura puts on a little pouty "but I wanted to be on the Enterprise with you" act and Spock cows to her wishes despite the roster already being set, certainly breaking a few regulations while he's at it. Spock ends up with more smooch time than Kirk... now that's just WRONG! Watching Spock kiss anyone is enough to raise your Vulcan eyebrows. "Fascinating" hardly covers it.
Everything is explained nicely, though. See, the bad guy is from the future, and he's screwing up the past. He's the one who killed Kirk's father, destroyed Vulcan, and by the end of the movie, creates a massive black hole near Saturn (which may or may not have collapsed on itself, Matt and I are still arguing that). So see, it's all a parallel universe.
I was seriously expecting a Voyager-special (aka, big "reset button" at the end, fix the timeline and everything reverts to what we expect). In a way, I'm glad they didn't do that. It works for a one-hour weekly series (once or twice, not a dozen times, Voyager!) but if you pull that stunt in a big movie, there will be rioting in the aisles as audiences complain "why did I spend $9 on a movie when none of it really happened in the end?"
This leads to one of two scenarios.
1) This is really gonna go where no one has gone before as the franchise embraces this "alternative" Star Trek universe (bad idea for the fan base).
2) They'll fix the whole thing in the sequel. Which means a reset button for TWO movies.
I'm betting on #2. These guys aren't dumb. They've hook the new audiences with big names, big fight scenes, and SFX which audiences have come to expect (Trekkers might complain that it's too much, but anything less would have been a disappointment to moviegoers and critics). Now you need to reel the fan base back in with a sequel that promises to fix the timeline.
This means Spock will be faced with the emotional dilemma of fixing time and restoring his planet, but at the expense of losing Uhura, since Spock Prime will inform him that they were never meant to hook up (Did I mention young Spock meets old Spock? That's a whole other story, but it worked so no complaints here.) Kirk will of course want this route, since it means his father will not have been killed by Nero. Audiences will be torn between "I want my daddy" from Kirk and "but I love her" from Spock. Confrontation ensues, probably with more Kirk/Spock fistfights. Fans will want the timeline to right itself, yet pity Spock.
Sounds like another blockbuster in the making!
So that's my two cents.
Live long and prosper!
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Old Email, Old Rant
I got this email today. I'm sure you've seen it a thousand times, so you can skip it if you want. I am not responsible for spelling error and grammatical debacles.
THOSE BORN 1920-1979
TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the 1930's, 40's,
50's, 60's and 70's!!
First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or
drank while they were pregnant.
They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.
Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our
tummies in baby cribs
covered with bright colored lead-based paints.
We had no child proof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and
when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention,
the risks we took hitchhiking.
As infants & children, we would ride in cars with no car seats,
booster seats, seat belts or air bags.
Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a
special treat.
We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.
We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and
NO ONE actually died from this.
We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and
drank Kool-aid made with sugar, but we weren't
overweight because,
WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!
We would leave home in the morning and play all day,
as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.
No one was able to rea ch us all day.And we were OK.
We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and
then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes
After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the
problem.
We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no
video games at all, no 150 channels on cable,
no video movies or DVD's, no surround-sound or CD's, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or chatrooms........
WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!
We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth
and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.
We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the
worms did not live in us forever.
We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games
with sticks and tennis balls and although we were told it would
happen, we did not poke out very many eyes.
We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and
knocked on the door or rang
the bell, or just walked in and talked to them!
Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those
who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!
The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law
was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!
These generations have produced some of the best
risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!
The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation
and new ideas.
We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we
learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!
If YOU are one of them CONGRATULATIONS!
You might want to share this with others who have had the
luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government
regulated so much of our lives for our own good.
While you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave (and lucky) their parents were.
Kind of makes you want to run through the house with
scissors, doesn't it?!
---
Very true, but...
SIDS (sudden infant death syndrome) was common due to sleeping on the stomach. Many children did not live past the age of 2. Mothers had 10 kids, but that's because 3 would die before reaching adulthood. Many drank Drano, swallow bottles of medication, or like my uncle, stuck knifes in light sockets because there was no such thing as child protection on these items. Some went out to play alone and were never seen again.
Those smoking mothers gave their children lung cancer.
Those kids who ate cupcakes and drank Kool-aid... those are the same people who now have severe cases of diabetes, right? And skin cancer from being outside all day.
My friends and I used to make mud pies... until one friend stepped on a muddy nail that went completely through her foot. She had to be rushed to the hospital for a tetanus shot and stitches. Her family did not sue mine, but she was not allowed to play with me anymore.
Our neighbor's kid received a BB gun, shot our cat in the head, my friends' pigeons, and nearly shot our neighbor's face.
I used to share my food and sodas with friends, until I caught scarlet fever and nearly died.
My friends and I used to build go-carts. Until one was hit by a car because he forgot brakes.
That was also the generation that started teen gangs, invented acid and crack, gave us the right to an abortion, and set the precedence to sue everyone we please. That was the generation that produced Charles Manson, Jeffery Dahmer, Timothy McVeigh (Oklahoma City bomber), Ted Kaczynski (Unibomber), David Koresh (Waco wakko), Lee Harvey Oswald, OJ Simpson, plus people like Norma McCorvey ("Roe" of Roe vs Wade), Stella Liebeck (the "hot coffee" sue-happy lady), and our corrupt politicians (too many to list).
Maybe our country is this way BECAUSE of those kids in the lead paint baby cribs.
Not that life wasn't simple back then. Laws these days make no sense. Little boys getting arrested of sexual harassment for kissing little girls on the cheek, or expelled for having old-fashion razor pencil sharpeners. My mom knows a neighbor who is 18, about to graduate, and cannot read nor even knows how to sign his own name. It's almost required for Pre-schoolers to have cellphones.
Still, this email makes me a little mad in presenting the idea of ignorance as better than general, sane precaution. Do you really want an alcoholic mother who doesn't care if her children die in the middle of the night or get cancer before they're 30, nor cares where their children go, who they visit, whether they break their arms, eat toxin-laced mud, or catches swine flu due to sharing sodas? The people of this "idealistic" generation should actually care enough to raise their own children instead of ignoring them and leaving the Playstation as a babysitter, too busy with work and their own selfishness to care what happens to their "pride and joy." Stop flaunting your own childhood and take a look at what you're presenting to your children. Gee, it's the exact same thing you're bitching about. "Children these days" aren't a consequence of technology and teachers. It's the fault of the PARENTS who could not care less because they're too busy sending email.
Okay, my little rant is over.
THOSE BORN 1920-1979
TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the 1930's, 40's,
50's, 60's and 70's!!
First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or
drank while they were pregnant.
They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.
Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our
tummies in baby cribs
covered with bright colored lead-based paints.
We had no child proof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and
when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention,
the risks we took hitchhiking.
As infants & children, we would ride in cars with no car seats,
booster seats, seat belts or air bags.
Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a
special treat.
We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.
We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and
NO ONE actually died from this.
We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and
drank Kool-aid made with sugar, but we weren't
overweight because,
WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!
We would leave home in the morning and play all day,
as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.
No one was able to rea ch us all day.And we were OK.
We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and
then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes
After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the
problem.
We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no
video games at all, no 150 channels on cable,
no video movies or DVD's, no surround-sound or CD's, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or chatrooms........
WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!
We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth
and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.
We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the
worms did not live in us forever.
We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games
with sticks and tennis balls and although we were told it would
happen, we did not poke out very many eyes.
We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and
knocked on the door or rang
the bell, or just walked in and talked to them!
Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those
who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!
The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law
was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!
These generations have produced some of the best
risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!
The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation
and new ideas.
We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we
learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!
If YOU are one of them CONGRATULATIONS!
You might want to share this with others who have had the
luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government
regulated so much of our lives for our own good.
While you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave (and lucky) their parents were.
Kind of makes you want to run through the house with
scissors, doesn't it?!
---
Very true, but...
SIDS (sudden infant death syndrome) was common due to sleeping on the stomach. Many children did not live past the age of 2. Mothers had 10 kids, but that's because 3 would die before reaching adulthood. Many drank Drano, swallow bottles of medication, or like my uncle, stuck knifes in light sockets because there was no such thing as child protection on these items. Some went out to play alone and were never seen again.
Those smoking mothers gave their children lung cancer.
Those kids who ate cupcakes and drank Kool-aid... those are the same people who now have severe cases of diabetes, right? And skin cancer from being outside all day.
My friends and I used to make mud pies... until one friend stepped on a muddy nail that went completely through her foot. She had to be rushed to the hospital for a tetanus shot and stitches. Her family did not sue mine, but she was not allowed to play with me anymore.
Our neighbor's kid received a BB gun, shot our cat in the head, my friends' pigeons, and nearly shot our neighbor's face.
I used to share my food and sodas with friends, until I caught scarlet fever and nearly died.
My friends and I used to build go-carts. Until one was hit by a car because he forgot brakes.
That was also the generation that started teen gangs, invented acid and crack, gave us the right to an abortion, and set the precedence to sue everyone we please. That was the generation that produced Charles Manson, Jeffery Dahmer, Timothy McVeigh (Oklahoma City bomber), Ted Kaczynski (Unibomber), David Koresh (Waco wakko), Lee Harvey Oswald, OJ Simpson, plus people like Norma McCorvey ("Roe" of Roe vs Wade), Stella Liebeck (the "hot coffee" sue-happy lady), and our corrupt politicians (too many to list).
Maybe our country is this way BECAUSE of those kids in the lead paint baby cribs.
Not that life wasn't simple back then. Laws these days make no sense. Little boys getting arrested of sexual harassment for kissing little girls on the cheek, or expelled for having old-fashion razor pencil sharpeners. My mom knows a neighbor who is 18, about to graduate, and cannot read nor even knows how to sign his own name. It's almost required for Pre-schoolers to have cellphones.
Still, this email makes me a little mad in presenting the idea of ignorance as better than general, sane precaution. Do you really want an alcoholic mother who doesn't care if her children die in the middle of the night or get cancer before they're 30, nor cares where their children go, who they visit, whether they break their arms, eat toxin-laced mud, or catches swine flu due to sharing sodas? The people of this "idealistic" generation should actually care enough to raise their own children instead of ignoring them and leaving the Playstation as a babysitter, too busy with work and their own selfishness to care what happens to their "pride and joy." Stop flaunting your own childhood and take a look at what you're presenting to your children. Gee, it's the exact same thing you're bitching about. "Children these days" aren't a consequence of technology and teachers. It's the fault of the PARENTS who could not care less because they're too busy sending email.
Okay, my little rant is over.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
A Peek Into My OCD World
Here is a classic example of why I have not published Book One of the Shadowstrider series (I know many of you are waiting for it, but be patient with me a little longer).
Okay, as you may (or likely may not) know, Shadowstrider is a multi-generational tale about a Native American family facing adventures only possible in the realm of science fiction (aliens, space pirates, psychic genocidal maniacs, and all that jazz). Many of the family members are religious, following the beliefs of Thekoni, the Great Eagle, and praying in their native language, Rovesia. I invented Rovesia to fill in the need for more "authentic" Native American scenes. Rather than simply say the character prayed to Thekoni, I actually write out the prayer in the native language followed by a translation. When a character gets highly emotions, they may curse in Rovesia (which are usually longwinded hexes). It is a language still in development, although I have a fairly good dictionary in the making.
For the most part, Rovesia was created on an "as needed" basis. In other words, if I want a character to say "The sky is blue" but I don't yet have a word for "sky," I create one based upon root terms (by the way, the phrase would be "Hidumoni udan ama"). This tactic has obvious flaws.
One, I only have so many root terms, so words can get complicated. I even have two characters jokingly compete for the longest Rovesia term they can think of; my favorite is a tie between aawethea'mojadu, or "wolf," literally "silver claw," and Hidumonifawawe, which is their name for the constellation Aquarius, literally "Sky-Jar."
Two, I sometimes use words not realizing the intent behind it. For example, I'll use an existing term for "cold" without double-checking if the root terms imply callousness or climate. I finally corrected this error by putting literal translations in my dictionary... such a hassle.
Three, I often create a new word although I already have a similar existing term, especially when I'm thinking too much in English. For instance, as you'll see below, I came up with a word for "correct" and a word for "true" separately, with totally different root meanings, although they mean the same in English.
What can I say, I'm not JRR Tolkien!
Alrighty, so I'm working on Book 12--that's the last book in the series, honestly--and as I write what is the most common Rovesia invocation, the morning prayer, I realize a glaring error. One of the lines goes "Fill my life with discernment and true answers." I sort of did a "head tilt" at the term "true answers." I always hated that phrase but could not come up with a better translation. The original term was duko koye, which has a literal translation of "bottom-answer (true)" and "answers." Obviously, some distasteful repetition going on there. So I considered it for a moment and thought "'true answers' means truth. I don't have a word for 'truth' yet because I always used duko koye. Truth is when all answers are correct. So why not one word, dukoye?" Directly translating dukoye would be impossible, and "true" and "correct" are adjectives and therefore incapable of being pluralized (-ye is a pluralization suffix). So the closest meaning would be "truth," changing the adjective into a noun.
A minor issue? Maybe, but I'm rather fond of my invented language and I want it to be perfect, or at least comprehensive. As I said, this is the most commonly-said prayer, so I want it to make sense.
So I looked in my handy-dandy Rovesia-English dictionary (a cumbersome text file at the moment) and realized another error. I have duko which means "true" and udsi which means "correct." But those have the same meaning. Crap! So I decided that, whereas duko is more in reference to an answer, udsi carries the implication of living one's live in wisdom (udsi literally means "to be wise"). Which means all references, in all twelve books, to both udsi and duko have to be examined to determine which intent I had in mind.
Luckily, I keep a list of all Rovesia phrases I use, which is a pain in the neck to document but so handy in mass corrections like this. Thankfully, udsi is not used too often. Duko is another matter, as the morning prayer with its duko koye phrase occurs at least once in every book. Due to sheer size and my computer whining about loading anything over 200 pages, I have my novels broken into three parts. Which means 36 files to search and adjust. When you add in my many files with notes for the series, that means over 40 pages to check. This might take half the day.
And this is why I have not published Book One. If I had, then the term duko koye would be in print and unable to change without making a new edition. Such is my OCD approach to writing. When I am satisfied with the whole series, including the languages I invented to give the tale a level of authenticity, then I will publish it. Until then... patience, grasshoppers, patience!
Okay, as you may (or likely may not) know, Shadowstrider is a multi-generational tale about a Native American family facing adventures only possible in the realm of science fiction (aliens, space pirates, psychic genocidal maniacs, and all that jazz). Many of the family members are religious, following the beliefs of Thekoni, the Great Eagle, and praying in their native language, Rovesia. I invented Rovesia to fill in the need for more "authentic" Native American scenes. Rather than simply say the character prayed to Thekoni, I actually write out the prayer in the native language followed by a translation. When a character gets highly emotions, they may curse in Rovesia (which are usually longwinded hexes). It is a language still in development, although I have a fairly good dictionary in the making.
For the most part, Rovesia was created on an "as needed" basis. In other words, if I want a character to say "The sky is blue" but I don't yet have a word for "sky," I create one based upon root terms (by the way, the phrase would be "Hidumoni udan ama"). This tactic has obvious flaws.
One, I only have so many root terms, so words can get complicated. I even have two characters jokingly compete for the longest Rovesia term they can think of; my favorite is a tie between aawethea'mojadu, or "wolf," literally "silver claw," and Hidumonifawawe, which is their name for the constellation Aquarius, literally "Sky-Jar."
Two, I sometimes use words not realizing the intent behind it. For example, I'll use an existing term for "cold" without double-checking if the root terms imply callousness or climate. I finally corrected this error by putting literal translations in my dictionary... such a hassle.
Three, I often create a new word although I already have a similar existing term, especially when I'm thinking too much in English. For instance, as you'll see below, I came up with a word for "correct" and a word for "true" separately, with totally different root meanings, although they mean the same in English.
What can I say, I'm not JRR Tolkien!
Alrighty, so I'm working on Book 12--that's the last book in the series, honestly--and as I write what is the most common Rovesia invocation, the morning prayer, I realize a glaring error. One of the lines goes "Fill my life with discernment and true answers." I sort of did a "head tilt" at the term "true answers." I always hated that phrase but could not come up with a better translation. The original term was duko koye, which has a literal translation of "bottom-answer (true)" and "answers." Obviously, some distasteful repetition going on there. So I considered it for a moment and thought "'true answers' means truth. I don't have a word for 'truth' yet because I always used duko koye. Truth is when all answers are correct. So why not one word, dukoye?" Directly translating dukoye would be impossible, and "true" and "correct" are adjectives and therefore incapable of being pluralized (-ye is a pluralization suffix). So the closest meaning would be "truth," changing the adjective into a noun.
A minor issue? Maybe, but I'm rather fond of my invented language and I want it to be perfect, or at least comprehensive. As I said, this is the most commonly-said prayer, so I want it to make sense.
So I looked in my handy-dandy Rovesia-English dictionary (a cumbersome text file at the moment) and realized another error. I have duko which means "true" and udsi which means "correct." But those have the same meaning. Crap! So I decided that, whereas duko is more in reference to an answer, udsi carries the implication of living one's live in wisdom (udsi literally means "to be wise"). Which means all references, in all twelve books, to both udsi and duko have to be examined to determine which intent I had in mind.
Luckily, I keep a list of all Rovesia phrases I use, which is a pain in the neck to document but so handy in mass corrections like this. Thankfully, udsi is not used too often. Duko is another matter, as the morning prayer with its duko koye phrase occurs at least once in every book. Due to sheer size and my computer whining about loading anything over 200 pages, I have my novels broken into three parts. Which means 36 files to search and adjust. When you add in my many files with notes for the series, that means over 40 pages to check. This might take half the day.
And this is why I have not published Book One. If I had, then the term duko koye would be in print and unable to change without making a new edition. Such is my OCD approach to writing. When I am satisfied with the whole series, including the languages I invented to give the tale a level of authenticity, then I will publish it. Until then... patience, grasshoppers, patience!
Monday, April 27, 2009
A New Definition of "Low Brass"
Now here are some low sounds.
Subcontrabass Flute - more plumbing than your average kitchen!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9Nz0UGuQyc
Contrabass Ocarina - mystical and calming
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfL9BJ5Ve60
Subcontrabass recorder - gorgeous 400-year-old instrument, you need a stepladder just to put it together!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5VcoV37kRFc
Contrabass Clarinet - short and sweet. I've played along with this instrument, and it is amazing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6HteNRMU5U
E-flat contrabass sax - playing one of my favorite jazz songs. If Ella Fitzgerald had sung this low, her voice would have gone out much sooner.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x1t_vu_uQoQ
Contrabassoon - Bach would have applauded
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GEvY5q_DG2c
Contrabass Sarrusophone - a rare instrument, most popular in Frank Zappa songs.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51lcyVGorYQ
Tubax and Soprillo - little shaky on the video, but great music and one talented guy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNyb3FzXZrs
Contrabass French Horn - Matt, welcome to the low brass section :P
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bC3UvJpxXO8
Contrabass trombone - I've played on one of these suckers. So much fun!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXitAt16meo
"World's largest drum" - or at least largest "practical and played" drum, over 10 feet tall. Those drummers must get dizzy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xej7JDJ4lLs
And finally, just to show that women CAN play trombone (grrrrrl power):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2t19NeJjrDI
Subcontrabass Flute - more plumbing than your average kitchen!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9Nz0UGuQyc
Contrabass Ocarina - mystical and calming
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfL9BJ5Ve60
Subcontrabass recorder - gorgeous 400-year-old instrument, you need a stepladder just to put it together!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5VcoV37kRFc
Contrabass Clarinet - short and sweet. I've played along with this instrument, and it is amazing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6HteNRMU5U
E-flat contrabass sax - playing one of my favorite jazz songs. If Ella Fitzgerald had sung this low, her voice would have gone out much sooner.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x1t_vu_uQoQ
Contrabassoon - Bach would have applauded
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GEvY5q_DG2c
Contrabass Sarrusophone - a rare instrument, most popular in Frank Zappa songs.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51lcyVGorYQ
Tubax and Soprillo - little shaky on the video, but great music and one talented guy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNyb3FzXZrs
Contrabass French Horn - Matt, welcome to the low brass section :P
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bC3UvJpxXO8
Contrabass trombone - I've played on one of these suckers. So much fun!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXitAt16meo
"World's largest drum" - or at least largest "practical and played" drum, over 10 feet tall. Those drummers must get dizzy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xej7JDJ4lLs
And finally, just to show that women CAN play trombone (grrrrrl power):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2t19NeJjrDI
Sunday, April 26, 2009
No One Loves Dragons
I was talking to my mother the other day, and things drifted into my work in writing. I was feeling excited about my progress when she burst my bubble. "Your father just mentioned the other day that you never publish ANYTHING." That's not completely true, but no novels yet. That comment left me feeling insulted. I mean, here I've got an awesome 12-novel series, but I swore not to publish the first book until I was done with the entire arc, since I keep changing things. If I publish Book One, I'm locked into that world setting. I want the freedom to be able to completely change a character's background.
It's not that I'm NOT WORKING. Many writers say that for a long novel--not a 150 page teen novel, but a 600 page behemoth--finishing it in three years is pretty darn good. Many take five or more years. Well, I started work on Book 3 in 2003 (the first two books were written in the 90s). I'm now in the process of writing Book 12. That means, in six years, I've written nine 600+ page books. Plus add in Blue Fire Dragon, which I finished last year. So that makes ten books in six years. TEN! Around 6,000 pages in 6 years.
Honestly, I have no life.
However, Mom was right. All this writing does no good if it's sitting within my laptop and not on the shelves of Barnes and Noble. So far, only myself and Matt have read my stories. He loves them, but he's biased.
I react to criticism with stubbornness, so I spent all morning searching literary agents, determined that, at the very least, I could thrust Blue Fire Dragon out there and see if they want the rest of the trilogy. In this business, publishers are closing their doors to unrepresented writers, so an agent has become as necessary as a Bachelor degree. Besides, I do NOT want to deal with legal crap. I would gladly fork over 15% to keep out of that mess.
The problem is, no one wants dragon stories. I've searched so many agencies, and many either hint that they are not looking for high fantasy, or flat out state "no swords-and-dragons." This post in the New Literary Agents Blog points out that the dragon genre has become saturated, so that even if you write an outstanding book, no publishers want it. Unless, of course, it's a children's fantasy, which Blue Fire Dragon most certainly is not. One of the main characters is a harlot, there are themes of racism, incest, animal cruelty, communism, and a touch of mysticism, plus a couple of the characters in the second book are lesbians. Honestly, it's not the type of book I'd want my mother to read, but I'm proud of how I handled these issues.
No love for dragons!
So who do I turn to now?
I decided to research Dragonriders of Pern. I've never read the series, worried that people might say I copied some other author. I now think maybe I SHOULD read a few dragon novels to ensure that I didn't inadvertently steal ideas. That's besides the point! Donald Maass Literary Agency represented Todd McCaffrey (son of Anne McCaffrey and currently continuing the Pern series), so I'm looking into them. Maybe they too have had their fill of dragons. Maybe they've been waiting for a fantasy/romance with a love triangle that involves a racial minority, a landless princess, and a professional harlot.
Man, that makes the novel sound really lame.
Still, I'm nervous about committing a novel for publication. My parents would hate most of what I write, since I like to tackle controversial issues. I fear public events, so things like book signings would be nerve-wracking. I know a dozen rejections is normal, but I fear such dismissal. What if they want to completely rework my lovely plot? What if it's published and flops? What if I'm scammed? Would the economy affect sales? Probably all typical fears of first-time authors, but it's definitely holding me back from simply submitting.
Are there any writers out there with suggestions on how I should proceed? I've read all the "what to look out for" forums and have a book on how to pick a literary agent, but I'm lacking in the confidence department right now. Hints on writing query letters? Advice? Encouragement? Cookies?
It's not that I'm NOT WORKING. Many writers say that for a long novel--not a 150 page teen novel, but a 600 page behemoth--finishing it in three years is pretty darn good. Many take five or more years. Well, I started work on Book 3 in 2003 (the first two books were written in the 90s). I'm now in the process of writing Book 12. That means, in six years, I've written nine 600+ page books. Plus add in Blue Fire Dragon, which I finished last year. So that makes ten books in six years. TEN! Around 6,000 pages in 6 years.
Honestly, I have no life.
However, Mom was right. All this writing does no good if it's sitting within my laptop and not on the shelves of Barnes and Noble. So far, only myself and Matt have read my stories. He loves them, but he's biased.
I react to criticism with stubbornness, so I spent all morning searching literary agents, determined that, at the very least, I could thrust Blue Fire Dragon out there and see if they want the rest of the trilogy. In this business, publishers are closing their doors to unrepresented writers, so an agent has become as necessary as a Bachelor degree. Besides, I do NOT want to deal with legal crap. I would gladly fork over 15% to keep out of that mess.
The problem is, no one wants dragon stories. I've searched so many agencies, and many either hint that they are not looking for high fantasy, or flat out state "no swords-and-dragons." This post in the New Literary Agents Blog points out that the dragon genre has become saturated, so that even if you write an outstanding book, no publishers want it. Unless, of course, it's a children's fantasy, which Blue Fire Dragon most certainly is not. One of the main characters is a harlot, there are themes of racism, incest, animal cruelty, communism, and a touch of mysticism, plus a couple of the characters in the second book are lesbians. Honestly, it's not the type of book I'd want my mother to read, but I'm proud of how I handled these issues.
No love for dragons!
So who do I turn to now?
I decided to research Dragonriders of Pern. I've never read the series, worried that people might say I copied some other author. I now think maybe I SHOULD read a few dragon novels to ensure that I didn't inadvertently steal ideas. That's besides the point! Donald Maass Literary Agency represented Todd McCaffrey (son of Anne McCaffrey and currently continuing the Pern series), so I'm looking into them. Maybe they too have had their fill of dragons. Maybe they've been waiting for a fantasy/romance with a love triangle that involves a racial minority, a landless princess, and a professional harlot.
Man, that makes the novel sound really lame.
Still, I'm nervous about committing a novel for publication. My parents would hate most of what I write, since I like to tackle controversial issues. I fear public events, so things like book signings would be nerve-wracking. I know a dozen rejections is normal, but I fear such dismissal. What if they want to completely rework my lovely plot? What if it's published and flops? What if I'm scammed? Would the economy affect sales? Probably all typical fears of first-time authors, but it's definitely holding me back from simply submitting.
Are there any writers out there with suggestions on how I should proceed? I've read all the "what to look out for" forums and have a book on how to pick a literary agent, but I'm lacking in the confidence department right now. Hints on writing query letters? Advice? Encouragement? Cookies?
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Not In Vain!
Some people argue that there is no point to human existence. In the scope of the universe, we are nothing more than a heartbeat, a blink of the eye, thus in the grand scope of Time and Existence, we are nothing, inconsequential, with no real purpose. What we do makes no difference, since who will have remembered such troubling circumstances in ten years, let alone ten generations, ten millennia, ten epochs.
Good and evil, right and wrong, they are all arbitrary distinctions society devised to restrict what it deemed to be taboo behaviors, each depending upon environment, history, religious constructs, whimsies of the elite. They do not improve human nature, but restrict freedoms, a form of slavery society accepts since we are told that the alternative is anarchy, chaos, death, or damnation. Therefore, there is no such thing as "morality" and "virtue." Our decisions hold no other meaning that that which we give them. There is no true or false, since all are relative and subjective to the rules of society. No objective truth exists! Pontus Pilate famously questioned "What is truth?" Jesus never answered. Why? Because there is no answer to such subjective questions.
This is a crappy paraphrasing of postmodern nihilism, but hopefully I make my point. We exist in the moment between moments as eternity blinks out another century. No one knows how long we have to fulfill all the dreams we wish to make into reality. We rush Time in a race we know we cannot win. We follow rules because it is expected. We react in a scripted manner, predestined by rulers Eternity has forgotten.
When faced with the pressure to react to the decisions that must be made, however vital or mundane, we can either reject such responsibility, since, in the end, what does it matter... or we can rise to the challenge, cast aside the chains of conformity, and press on without thought to whether it matters or not.
Perhaps no one will ever know the deeds we perform. Perhaps they will be written down and recalled for a brief heartbeat in time. Lauded as a Robin Hood hero. Despised as the next Hitler. We take a chance in the choices we make, especially when we chose to go against conformity. The price of such freedom is too great for many.
Maybe the Borg are right and resistance is futile; we are merely avoiding the inevitable. Often, we will strive, fight, and race our hardest only to find failure or incompletion. However, the alternative is to give up, give in, and prove those nihilists right, that we really don't mean anything in the scope of Time. The best we can do is continue, to keep dreaming, and to work for our dreams.
If the actions I take bring me one step closer to reaching my goal, one more day to spend time with those I love, one fleeting moment in eternity to smile at friends and hug family, then it will be worth the struggle. It will not be in vain!
Good and evil, right and wrong, they are all arbitrary distinctions society devised to restrict what it deemed to be taboo behaviors, each depending upon environment, history, religious constructs, whimsies of the elite. They do not improve human nature, but restrict freedoms, a form of slavery society accepts since we are told that the alternative is anarchy, chaos, death, or damnation. Therefore, there is no such thing as "morality" and "virtue." Our decisions hold no other meaning that that which we give them. There is no true or false, since all are relative and subjective to the rules of society. No objective truth exists! Pontus Pilate famously questioned "What is truth?" Jesus never answered. Why? Because there is no answer to such subjective questions.
This is a crappy paraphrasing of postmodern nihilism, but hopefully I make my point. We exist in the moment between moments as eternity blinks out another century. No one knows how long we have to fulfill all the dreams we wish to make into reality. We rush Time in a race we know we cannot win. We follow rules because it is expected. We react in a scripted manner, predestined by rulers Eternity has forgotten.
When faced with the pressure to react to the decisions that must be made, however vital or mundane, we can either reject such responsibility, since, in the end, what does it matter... or we can rise to the challenge, cast aside the chains of conformity, and press on without thought to whether it matters or not.
Perhaps no one will ever know the deeds we perform. Perhaps they will be written down and recalled for a brief heartbeat in time. Lauded as a Robin Hood hero. Despised as the next Hitler. We take a chance in the choices we make, especially when we chose to go against conformity. The price of such freedom is too great for many.
Maybe the Borg are right and resistance is futile; we are merely avoiding the inevitable. Often, we will strive, fight, and race our hardest only to find failure or incompletion. However, the alternative is to give up, give in, and prove those nihilists right, that we really don't mean anything in the scope of Time. The best we can do is continue, to keep dreaming, and to work for our dreams.
If the actions I take bring me one step closer to reaching my goal, one more day to spend time with those I love, one fleeting moment in eternity to smile at friends and hug family, then it will be worth the struggle. It will not be in vain!
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Caffeine Rush... Can you take it?
I was looking up for caffeine content in drinks, trying to find the name of the tea that has really super high caffeine. Instead, I found some drinks that would literally knock your socks off, if not cause a stroke.
Coca-Cola: 2.88 mg caffeine per ounce (good baseline)
Pepsi: 3.17mg/oz... yet another reason why Pepsi is better than Coke.
Mountain Dew: 4.58mg/oz... weak!
Red Bull: 9.64mg/oz... meh...
Monster: 10mg/oz... boring
Rockstar: 10mg/oz... yawn
Jolt: 11.91mg/oz... actually weaker than coffee
Regular brewed coffee: 13.44mg/oz
Starbucks Doubleshot: 20mg/oz
Wired: 21.5mg/oz
Spike Shooter: 35.71mg/oz
Espresso: 55.44mg/oz
Here are the fun ones:
Boo-Koo - 15mg/oz, but one of the highest caffeine amounts per can (it's a big can, 360mg for the whole thing... weeee)
Fuel Cell - 90mg/oz, pure caffeine... with Splenda!
Mana Energy Potion - 118.52mg/oz, plus you'll have Zelda's theme song in your head all day.
Redline Power Rush- 140mg/oz, must be over 18... nice when your energy drink is like an R-rated movie.
Ammo - 171mg/oz... "We do not support or recommend you being an idiot and drinking this straight"... so why sell it that way?
Fixx Extreme 5ml - 400mg of weeeee (I loved reading this review, too. I think the writer was still on a buzz).
The energy drink version of this is now discontinued. I wonder why!!!
I read a review that 2 drinks can kill a 15-year-old kid, and it also tastes like crap. No duh! Concentrate liquid caffeine isn't meant to taste like Hawaiian Punch.
And here's the one that left my jaw dropped:
Fixx - 2352.94mg/oz... omg!!!
This comes in a small package. 0.17 oz, 400mg of caffeine in the package... it'll give you wings, alright!
It's like... a gel... thing... stuff. Apparently doesn't taste half bad. One reviewer suggested, if you're used to "only" Red Bull, Rockstar, and Monster, take only half a package.
Coca-Cola: 2.88 mg caffeine per ounce (good baseline)
Pepsi: 3.17mg/oz... yet another reason why Pepsi is better than Coke.
Mountain Dew: 4.58mg/oz... weak!
Red Bull: 9.64mg/oz... meh...
Monster: 10mg/oz... boring
Rockstar: 10mg/oz... yawn
Jolt: 11.91mg/oz... actually weaker than coffee
Regular brewed coffee: 13.44mg/oz
Starbucks Doubleshot: 20mg/oz
Wired: 21.5mg/oz
Spike Shooter: 35.71mg/oz
Espresso: 55.44mg/oz
Here are the fun ones:
Boo-Koo - 15mg/oz, but one of the highest caffeine amounts per can (it's a big can, 360mg for the whole thing... weeee)
Fuel Cell - 90mg/oz, pure caffeine... with Splenda!
Mana Energy Potion - 118.52mg/oz, plus you'll have Zelda's theme song in your head all day.
Redline Power Rush- 140mg/oz, must be over 18... nice when your energy drink is like an R-rated movie.
Ammo - 171mg/oz... "We do not support or recommend you being an idiot and drinking this straight"... so why sell it that way?
Fixx Extreme 5ml - 400mg of weeeee (I loved reading this review, too. I think the writer was still on a buzz).
The energy drink version of this is now discontinued. I wonder why!!!
I read a review that 2 drinks can kill a 15-year-old kid, and it also tastes like crap. No duh! Concentrate liquid caffeine isn't meant to taste like Hawaiian Punch.
And here's the one that left my jaw dropped:
Fixx - 2352.94mg/oz... omg!!!
This comes in a small package. 0.17 oz, 400mg of caffeine in the package... it'll give you wings, alright!
It's like... a gel... thing... stuff. Apparently doesn't taste half bad. One reviewer suggested, if you're used to "only" Red Bull, Rockstar, and Monster, take only half a package.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Eye Color
I was looking up on eye color. Whenever I fill out official forms and they ask for "eye color," I usually put either blue or hazel, depending on my mood. Once, someone looked and said, "You don't have any brown in your eyes, so they can't be hazel." My reply: "Today I don't. Tomorrow I might."
My eyes are just weird. Many people with hazel eyes claim they change color, whereas really it's just certain colors are "brought out" by other factors: clothing color, sunlight, etc. Hazel eyes have green, gray, and brown, so different colors can be highlighted.
I've compared photos of my eyes. They really do change color. Not just a little. I mean A LOT.
The first time anyone really notice my "chameleon eyes" was on my sister's wedding. I was a bridesmaid, and the dress was bright emerald green. As we were getting ready, my mom stopped me, stared at my face, and went, "Robyn, you're eyes are GREEN." I looked in the mirror. My eyes were totally emerald, no blue at all. This wasn't "bringing out" some specks of green already present. My eyes were never that color before in my life.
Another day, I was wearing a red dress. The friends I was with didn't really know me well enough to notice anything, but they kept staring. I finally had to ask (fearing I had something stuck in my teeth). They said my eyes were purple. I laughed. Was I suddenly some weird anime character? Then I went to the bathroom, and sure enough, my eyes had turned a brownish shade of lavender. It was actually a little disturbing. I wish I could find the picture of that day.
Lately, my eyes have turned steely gray, nearly silver, and even some amber flecks pop up once in a while. One picture I have of me wearing a burgundy dress, my eyes honestly look brown.
I'm not the only one in my family with odd eyes. I have an aunt whose eyes change color depending on her mood. If they go green... watch out!
Perhaps I can blame genetics. My father has blue eyes. My mother has dark brown. Her father had blue eyes, her mother brown. Of my siblings, three have dark brown eyes, one has hazel which are usually more greenish, and I have the freaky blue eyes that will change at a moment's notice. Blue, gray, emerald, lavender, amber, you name it.
In the research I've done, eyes are not supposed to do that, not suddenly, at least. Eye color can change around puberty, like from blue to hazel, but not after wearing something for a few hours.
Maybe I should wear a rainbow tie-dye and see what happens.
My eyes are just weird. Many people with hazel eyes claim they change color, whereas really it's just certain colors are "brought out" by other factors: clothing color, sunlight, etc. Hazel eyes have green, gray, and brown, so different colors can be highlighted.
I've compared photos of my eyes. They really do change color. Not just a little. I mean A LOT.
The first time anyone really notice my "chameleon eyes" was on my sister's wedding. I was a bridesmaid, and the dress was bright emerald green. As we were getting ready, my mom stopped me, stared at my face, and went, "Robyn, you're eyes are GREEN." I looked in the mirror. My eyes were totally emerald, no blue at all. This wasn't "bringing out" some specks of green already present. My eyes were never that color before in my life.
Another day, I was wearing a red dress. The friends I was with didn't really know me well enough to notice anything, but they kept staring. I finally had to ask (fearing I had something stuck in my teeth). They said my eyes were purple. I laughed. Was I suddenly some weird anime character? Then I went to the bathroom, and sure enough, my eyes had turned a brownish shade of lavender. It was actually a little disturbing. I wish I could find the picture of that day.
Lately, my eyes have turned steely gray, nearly silver, and even some amber flecks pop up once in a while. One picture I have of me wearing a burgundy dress, my eyes honestly look brown.
I'm not the only one in my family with odd eyes. I have an aunt whose eyes change color depending on her mood. If they go green... watch out!
Perhaps I can blame genetics. My father has blue eyes. My mother has dark brown. Her father had blue eyes, her mother brown. Of my siblings, three have dark brown eyes, one has hazel which are usually more greenish, and I have the freaky blue eyes that will change at a moment's notice. Blue, gray, emerald, lavender, amber, you name it.
In the research I've done, eyes are not supposed to do that, not suddenly, at least. Eye color can change around puberty, like from blue to hazel, but not after wearing something for a few hours.
Maybe I should wear a rainbow tie-dye and see what happens.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Turning Japanese
A friend asked me, with all the Japanese anime I watch, have I ever actually picked up any Japanese?
My answer, totally tongue-in-cheek, was "Hai!"
A politely sarcastic laugh, then "No, really, do you know any, like, totally cool Japanese phrases?"
Totally deadpan, I replied, "Urusai, baka yaro. Korosu-zo. Nametonka?"
They were impressed.
I was ready to laugh.
I refused to translate.
Yes, it means what you probably think it means.
My answer, totally tongue-in-cheek, was "Hai!"
A politely sarcastic laugh, then "No, really, do you know any, like, totally cool Japanese phrases?"
Totally deadpan, I replied, "Urusai, baka yaro. Korosu-zo. Nametonka?"
They were impressed.
I was ready to laugh.
I refused to translate.
Yes, it means what you probably think it means.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Epilepsy = Brilliance? Awesome!
Note: this was totally ripped off of this author but only because I'm recovering from a seizure and can't think to write my own entry. Maybe after this spell, I will have a burst of creativity, eh? One can hope...
===
Did you know that the earliest references to epilepsy date back to the fifth millennium B.C. in Mesopotamia? That's a few years before Sarah Palin believes that the earth was even created. Sorry, I couldn't resist. Priests unsuccessfully tried to cure people with epilepsy by exercising the "demons" out of them. Atreya of India and later Hippocrates, both of whom recognized a seizure as a dysfunction of the brain, challenged this absurdity of superstitious thought surrounding epilepsy. But the superstitions surrounding epilepsy continued for hundreds of years.
I actually feel a bit honored to be amongst a rather commendable group of other epileptics. You see, epileptic seizures historically, have suggested a relationship with creativity or unusual leadership abilities. Scholars have long studied evidence that prominent prophets and other holy men, political leaders, philosophers, artists and scientists, suffered from epilepsy.
According to Epilepsy.com, Aristotle was apparently the first to connect epilepsy and genius.
His catalog of "great epileptics" (which included Socrates) was added to during the Renaissance. Only people from Western culture were included, however. So strong was this tradition that even in the nineteenth century, when new names of "great epileptics" were added, they were rarely chosen from among people in other parts of the world. Working from this biased historical legacy, the famous people with epilepsy that we know about are primarily white males.
Eve LaPlante in her book Seized writes that the abnormal brain activity found in temporal lobe (complex partial) epilepsy plays a role in creative thinking and the making of art. Neuropsychologist Dr. Paul Spiers says:
"Sometimes the same things that cause epilepsy result in giftedness. If you damage an area [of the brain] early enough in life, the corresponding area on the other side has a chance to overdevelop."
We know that epilepsy involves temporary bursts of excessive electrical activity in different locations in the brain, locations which house our bodily sensations and functions as well as our memories and emotions. Psychiatrist Dr. David Bear states that the abnormal brain activity found in temporal lobe epilepsy can play a role in creative thinking and the making of art by uniting sensitivity, insight and sustained, critical attention. According to Dr. Bear:
"A temporal lobe focus in the superior individual may spark an extraordinary search for that entity we alternately call truth or beauty."
What is also clear in the discussion of genius and epilepsy is that some of the most famous people in history had seizures. People with epilepsy have excelled in every area.
The list of famous authors and playwrights whom historians believe had epilepsy is a bit overwhelming. It includes: Dante, the author of The Divine Comedy, who is not only Italy's pre-eminent poet but one of the towering figures of Western literature; Moliere, the master comic dramatist of the eighteenth century whose plays Tartuffe, The Imaginary Invalid and The Misanthrope are still being regularly performed today; Sir Walter Scott, one of the foremost literary figures of the romantic period whose books like Ivanhoe and Waverley remain widely read classics; the 18th century English satirist Jonathan Swift, author of Gulliver's Travels; the nineteenth century American author Edgar Allan Poe; as well as three of the greatest English Romantic poets, Lord Byron, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and Alfred Lord Tennyson.
Charles Dickens, the Victorian author of such classic books as A Christmas Carol and Oliver Twist had epilepsy, as did several of the characters in his books. The medical accuracy of Dickens's descriptions of epilepsy has amazed the doctors who read him today.
Lewis Carroll, in his famous stories Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, was probably writing about his own temporal lobe seizures. The very sensation initiating Alice' adventures- that of falling down a hole- is a familiar one to many people with seizures. Alice often feels that her own body (or the objects around her) is shrinking or growing before her eyes, another seizure symptom. Carroll recorded his seizures, which were followed by prolonged headaches and feeling not his usual self, in his journal.
From his writings we know a lot about the epilepsy of the great Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky, author of such classics as Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov, who is considered by many to have brought the Western novel to the peak of its possibilities.
Dostoevsky had his first seizure at age nine. After a remission which lasted up to age 25, he had seizures every few days or months, fluctuating between good and bad periods. His ecstatic auras occurring seconds before his bigger seizures were moments of transcendent happiness, which then changed to an anguished feeling of dread. He saw a blinding flash of light, then would cry out and lose consciousness for a second or two. Sometimes the epileptic discharge generalized across his brain, producing a secondary tonic-clonic (grand mal) seizure. Afterward he could not recall events and conversations that had occurred during the seizure, and he often felt depressed, guilty and irritable for days. Epilepsy is a central source of themes, personalities, and events in his books; he gave epilepsy to about 30 of his characters.
The other great nineteenth century Russian author, Count Leo Tolstoy, author of Anna Karenina and War and Peace, also had epilepsy.
Alexander the Great, King of Macedonia about 2,300 years ago and one of the greatest generals in history, had epilepsy. At the time epilepsy was known as "the sacred disease" because of the belief that those who had seizures were possessed by evil spirits or touched by the gods and should be treated by invoking mystical powers.
Julius Caesar, another brilliant general and formidable politician, had seizures in the last two years of his life, possibly caused by a brain tumour. Caesar was known to have fallen convulsing into the River Tiber. By this time, epilepsy had become known as "the falling sickness" because the kind of seizures that made a person lose consciousness and fall down were the only kind then recognized as epilepsy. (Complex partial seizures were not recognized until the middle of the nineteenth century.) Human blood was widely regarded by the Romans as having curative powers, and people with epilepsy in Caesar's time were commonly seen sucking blood from fallen gladiators.
Napoleon Bonaparte was probably the most brilliant military figure in history. He too is known to have had epilepsy.
Another extraordinary leader of a very different time and place was Harriet Tubman, the black woman with epilepsy who led hundreds of her fellow slaves from the American South to freedom in Canada on the Underground Railroad. Tubman developed her seizure disorder through sustaining a head injury: her slave master hit her in the head with a rock.
Saint Paul's seizure-like experiences are the best documented of the major religious figures. On the road to Damascus he saw a bright light flashing around him, fell to the ground and was left temporarily blinded by his vision and unable to eat or drink. Paul is thought by some physicians to have had facial motor and sensitive disturbances coming after ecstatic seizures; they have diagnosed him with temporal lobe epilepsy which occasionally developed into secondary tonic-clonic attacks.
Joan of Arc was an uneducated farmer's daughter in a remote village of medieval France who altered the course of history through her amazing military victories. From age thirteen Joan reported ecstatic moments in which she saw flashes of light coming from the side, heard voices of saints and saw visions of angels.
In the opinion of the neurologist Dr. Lydia Bayne, Joan's blissful experiences "in which she felt that the secrets of the universe were about to be revealed to her"- were seizures, and they were triggered by the ringing of church bells. Joan displayed symptoms of a temporal lobe focus epilepsy: specifically, a musicogenic form of reflex epilepsy with an ecstatic aura. Musicogenic epilepsy is generally triggered by particular music which has an emotional significance to the individual. Joan's voices and visions propelled her to become an heroic soldier in the effort to save France from English domination and led to her martyrdom in 1431, burned at the stake as a heretic when she was 19 years old.
Soren Kierkegaard, the brilliant Danish philosopher and religious thinker considered to be the father of existentialism, worked hard at keeping his epilepsy secret.
In the fine arts, Vincent van Gogh is today probably the most widely known and appreciated artist with epilepsy. "The storm within" was how van Gogh described his typical seizure, which consisted of hallucinations, unprovoked feelings of anger, confusion and fear, and floods of early memories that disturbed him because they were outside his control.
Van Gogh also had convulsive seizures; a hospital worker witnessed Vincent having one while painting outside. He was prescribed potassium bromide as an anticonvulsant and ordered to spend countless hours bathing in tubs at the asylum in Saint-Remy. His most troubling seizures peaked with his greatest art in the south of France, where he painted A Starry Night, the extraordinary Self-Portrait, and the famous Crows in the Wheatfields.
There have been a number of prominent composers and musicians with epilepsy. George Frederick Handel, the famous baroque composer of the Messiah, is one. Niccolo Paganini is another. Paganini was an Italian violinist and composer considered by many to be the greatest violinist of all time. The eminent Russian composer of the ballets Sleeping Beauty and The Nutcracker, Peter Tchaikovsky, is believed to have had epilepsy. Ludwig van Beethoven, one of the greatest masters of music, may have had epilepsy as well.
Modern writers who had epilepsy include: Dame Agatha Christie, the leading British writer of mystery novels, and Truman Capote, American author of In Cold Blood and Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Modern actors with epilepsy include Richard Burton, Michael Wilding, Margaux Hemingway and Danny Glover.
On second thought, boy oh boy, that sure puts the pressure on me to be brilliant. Oh well, I can be one of the not so fabulous epileptics that achieved mediocrity in full force.
===
May I also add to this list:
* Hugo Weaving, one of my favorite actors of all time
* Hector Berlioz, super awesome composers, one of my favs
* Robert Schumann, another fav
* Vladamir Lenin
* George Gershwin
* Neil Young
* Leonardo di Vinci
* Michelangelo
* Pythagoras (remember him from Trig?)
* Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
*Jean Clemens, daughter of Mark Twain
* Hikari Oe, musician and son of one of my favorite Japanese authors, Kenzaburo Oe
===
Did you know that the earliest references to epilepsy date back to the fifth millennium B.C. in Mesopotamia? That's a few years before Sarah Palin believes that the earth was even created. Sorry, I couldn't resist. Priests unsuccessfully tried to cure people with epilepsy by exercising the "demons" out of them. Atreya of India and later Hippocrates, both of whom recognized a seizure as a dysfunction of the brain, challenged this absurdity of superstitious thought surrounding epilepsy. But the superstitions surrounding epilepsy continued for hundreds of years.
I actually feel a bit honored to be amongst a rather commendable group of other epileptics. You see, epileptic seizures historically, have suggested a relationship with creativity or unusual leadership abilities. Scholars have long studied evidence that prominent prophets and other holy men, political leaders, philosophers, artists and scientists, suffered from epilepsy.
According to Epilepsy.com, Aristotle was apparently the first to connect epilepsy and genius.
His catalog of "great epileptics" (which included Socrates) was added to during the Renaissance. Only people from Western culture were included, however. So strong was this tradition that even in the nineteenth century, when new names of "great epileptics" were added, they were rarely chosen from among people in other parts of the world. Working from this biased historical legacy, the famous people with epilepsy that we know about are primarily white males.
Eve LaPlante in her book Seized writes that the abnormal brain activity found in temporal lobe (complex partial) epilepsy plays a role in creative thinking and the making of art. Neuropsychologist Dr. Paul Spiers says:
"Sometimes the same things that cause epilepsy result in giftedness. If you damage an area [of the brain] early enough in life, the corresponding area on the other side has a chance to overdevelop."
We know that epilepsy involves temporary bursts of excessive electrical activity in different locations in the brain, locations which house our bodily sensations and functions as well as our memories and emotions. Psychiatrist Dr. David Bear states that the abnormal brain activity found in temporal lobe epilepsy can play a role in creative thinking and the making of art by uniting sensitivity, insight and sustained, critical attention. According to Dr. Bear:
"A temporal lobe focus in the superior individual may spark an extraordinary search for that entity we alternately call truth or beauty."
What is also clear in the discussion of genius and epilepsy is that some of the most famous people in history had seizures. People with epilepsy have excelled in every area.
The list of famous authors and playwrights whom historians believe had epilepsy is a bit overwhelming. It includes: Dante, the author of The Divine Comedy, who is not only Italy's pre-eminent poet but one of the towering figures of Western literature; Moliere, the master comic dramatist of the eighteenth century whose plays Tartuffe, The Imaginary Invalid and The Misanthrope are still being regularly performed today; Sir Walter Scott, one of the foremost literary figures of the romantic period whose books like Ivanhoe and Waverley remain widely read classics; the 18th century English satirist Jonathan Swift, author of Gulliver's Travels; the nineteenth century American author Edgar Allan Poe; as well as three of the greatest English Romantic poets, Lord Byron, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and Alfred Lord Tennyson.
Charles Dickens, the Victorian author of such classic books as A Christmas Carol and Oliver Twist had epilepsy, as did several of the characters in his books. The medical accuracy of Dickens's descriptions of epilepsy has amazed the doctors who read him today.
Lewis Carroll, in his famous stories Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, was probably writing about his own temporal lobe seizures. The very sensation initiating Alice' adventures- that of falling down a hole- is a familiar one to many people with seizures. Alice often feels that her own body (or the objects around her) is shrinking or growing before her eyes, another seizure symptom. Carroll recorded his seizures, which were followed by prolonged headaches and feeling not his usual self, in his journal.
From his writings we know a lot about the epilepsy of the great Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky, author of such classics as Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov, who is considered by many to have brought the Western novel to the peak of its possibilities.
Dostoevsky had his first seizure at age nine. After a remission which lasted up to age 25, he had seizures every few days or months, fluctuating between good and bad periods. His ecstatic auras occurring seconds before his bigger seizures were moments of transcendent happiness, which then changed to an anguished feeling of dread. He saw a blinding flash of light, then would cry out and lose consciousness for a second or two. Sometimes the epileptic discharge generalized across his brain, producing a secondary tonic-clonic (grand mal) seizure. Afterward he could not recall events and conversations that had occurred during the seizure, and he often felt depressed, guilty and irritable for days. Epilepsy is a central source of themes, personalities, and events in his books; he gave epilepsy to about 30 of his characters.
The other great nineteenth century Russian author, Count Leo Tolstoy, author of Anna Karenina and War and Peace, also had epilepsy.
Alexander the Great, King of Macedonia about 2,300 years ago and one of the greatest generals in history, had epilepsy. At the time epilepsy was known as "the sacred disease" because of the belief that those who had seizures were possessed by evil spirits or touched by the gods and should be treated by invoking mystical powers.
Julius Caesar, another brilliant general and formidable politician, had seizures in the last two years of his life, possibly caused by a brain tumour. Caesar was known to have fallen convulsing into the River Tiber. By this time, epilepsy had become known as "the falling sickness" because the kind of seizures that made a person lose consciousness and fall down were the only kind then recognized as epilepsy. (Complex partial seizures were not recognized until the middle of the nineteenth century.) Human blood was widely regarded by the Romans as having curative powers, and people with epilepsy in Caesar's time were commonly seen sucking blood from fallen gladiators.
Napoleon Bonaparte was probably the most brilliant military figure in history. He too is known to have had epilepsy.
Another extraordinary leader of a very different time and place was Harriet Tubman, the black woman with epilepsy who led hundreds of her fellow slaves from the American South to freedom in Canada on the Underground Railroad. Tubman developed her seizure disorder through sustaining a head injury: her slave master hit her in the head with a rock.
Saint Paul's seizure-like experiences are the best documented of the major religious figures. On the road to Damascus he saw a bright light flashing around him, fell to the ground and was left temporarily blinded by his vision and unable to eat or drink. Paul is thought by some physicians to have had facial motor and sensitive disturbances coming after ecstatic seizures; they have diagnosed him with temporal lobe epilepsy which occasionally developed into secondary tonic-clonic attacks.
Joan of Arc was an uneducated farmer's daughter in a remote village of medieval France who altered the course of history through her amazing military victories. From age thirteen Joan reported ecstatic moments in which she saw flashes of light coming from the side, heard voices of saints and saw visions of angels.
In the opinion of the neurologist Dr. Lydia Bayne, Joan's blissful experiences "in which she felt that the secrets of the universe were about to be revealed to her"- were seizures, and they were triggered by the ringing of church bells. Joan displayed symptoms of a temporal lobe focus epilepsy: specifically, a musicogenic form of reflex epilepsy with an ecstatic aura. Musicogenic epilepsy is generally triggered by particular music which has an emotional significance to the individual. Joan's voices and visions propelled her to become an heroic soldier in the effort to save France from English domination and led to her martyrdom in 1431, burned at the stake as a heretic when she was 19 years old.
Soren Kierkegaard, the brilliant Danish philosopher and religious thinker considered to be the father of existentialism, worked hard at keeping his epilepsy secret.
In the fine arts, Vincent van Gogh is today probably the most widely known and appreciated artist with epilepsy. "The storm within" was how van Gogh described his typical seizure, which consisted of hallucinations, unprovoked feelings of anger, confusion and fear, and floods of early memories that disturbed him because they were outside his control.
Van Gogh also had convulsive seizures; a hospital worker witnessed Vincent having one while painting outside. He was prescribed potassium bromide as an anticonvulsant and ordered to spend countless hours bathing in tubs at the asylum in Saint-Remy. His most troubling seizures peaked with his greatest art in the south of France, where he painted A Starry Night, the extraordinary Self-Portrait, and the famous Crows in the Wheatfields.
There have been a number of prominent composers and musicians with epilepsy. George Frederick Handel, the famous baroque composer of the Messiah, is one. Niccolo Paganini is another. Paganini was an Italian violinist and composer considered by many to be the greatest violinist of all time. The eminent Russian composer of the ballets Sleeping Beauty and The Nutcracker, Peter Tchaikovsky, is believed to have had epilepsy. Ludwig van Beethoven, one of the greatest masters of music, may have had epilepsy as well.
Modern writers who had epilepsy include: Dame Agatha Christie, the leading British writer of mystery novels, and Truman Capote, American author of In Cold Blood and Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Modern actors with epilepsy include Richard Burton, Michael Wilding, Margaux Hemingway and Danny Glover.
On second thought, boy oh boy, that sure puts the pressure on me to be brilliant. Oh well, I can be one of the not so fabulous epileptics that achieved mediocrity in full force.
===
May I also add to this list:
* Hugo Weaving, one of my favorite actors of all time
* Hector Berlioz, super awesome composers, one of my favs
* Robert Schumann, another fav
* Vladamir Lenin
* George Gershwin
* Neil Young
* Leonardo di Vinci
* Michelangelo
* Pythagoras (remember him from Trig?)
* Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
*Jean Clemens, daughter of Mark Twain
* Hikari Oe, musician and son of one of my favorite Japanese authors, Kenzaburo Oe
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Would You Buy My Hair?
Times are tough, Matt's been trying for two months to find a job with no luck, and we're looking into ways to make money.
Matt's been growing his hair for Locks Of Love, and it's at 11 inches, long enough to cut. So I looked up about SELLING hair instead.
Turns out, selling one's hair is big business. 11 inches can fetch an easy $100-200. So I measured my hair (haven't done that in a while) plus the thickness. I compared it to what the going price is for hair my length.
From the nape of the neck to the ends, it's a little over 40 inches. Thickness is 4 1/2 inches. My hair is what's called "virgin hair," in other words, not colored, not permed or treated in any way, and I despise blow dryers. I don't smoke or do drugs (besides my regular meds) or drink heavily. So that's top dollar hair! Plus it's a "natural color," a shade of brown I always hated because it's sort of plain. Some of you may recall when I dyed my hair blue-black in high school It has a limp curl that kinks up if it's short (why I keep it long). That natural waviness is desirable. You should see Matt's hair! He gets the cutest ringlets
According to sites I looked at, I could fetch $2500-3000 for my hair. WOW! Of course, if I cut it, it will not be that short. I look terrible with short hair. Still, 30 inches will fetch $1000 easy.
So, there is one way of making quick money if we really hit bottom. Right now, things aren't that desperate. Matt's folks are helping a lot. Matt is doing everything possible to find a job, even non-tech jobs, like retail or taxi driver, or even a car salesman! Now he's applying to the police academy, anything to get a steady paycheck. Nothing has worked out yet. I'm trying hard to get well enough to reenter the workforce. My seizures are down, which is making my memory issues less of a problem (seriously, waking up and not knowing who you are is very frightening), and my phobias are getting better, probably because the seizures aren't as bad so I'm not as terrified to go out in public. Man, I really hate agoraphobia!
So, I don't have to be Fantine just yet.
(I wonder how many know that reference?)
Matt's been growing his hair for Locks Of Love, and it's at 11 inches, long enough to cut. So I looked up about SELLING hair instead.
Turns out, selling one's hair is big business. 11 inches can fetch an easy $100-200. So I measured my hair (haven't done that in a while) plus the thickness. I compared it to what the going price is for hair my length.
From the nape of the neck to the ends, it's a little over 40 inches. Thickness is 4 1/2 inches. My hair is what's called "virgin hair," in other words, not colored, not permed or treated in any way, and I despise blow dryers. I don't smoke or do drugs (besides my regular meds) or drink heavily. So that's top dollar hair! Plus it's a "natural color," a shade of brown I always hated because it's sort of plain. Some of you may recall when I dyed my hair blue-black in high school It has a limp curl that kinks up if it's short (why I keep it long). That natural waviness is desirable. You should see Matt's hair! He gets the cutest ringlets
According to sites I looked at, I could fetch $2500-3000 for my hair. WOW! Of course, if I cut it, it will not be that short. I look terrible with short hair. Still, 30 inches will fetch $1000 easy.
So, there is one way of making quick money if we really hit bottom. Right now, things aren't that desperate. Matt's folks are helping a lot. Matt is doing everything possible to find a job, even non-tech jobs, like retail or taxi driver, or even a car salesman! Now he's applying to the police academy, anything to get a steady paycheck. Nothing has worked out yet. I'm trying hard to get well enough to reenter the workforce. My seizures are down, which is making my memory issues less of a problem (seriously, waking up and not knowing who you are is very frightening), and my phobias are getting better, probably because the seizures aren't as bad so I'm not as terrified to go out in public. Man, I really hate agoraphobia!
So, I don't have to be Fantine just yet.
(I wonder how many know that reference?)
Monday, January 19, 2009
Can I Restart This Week?
Okay, this had been my week:
Sunday - started getting sick, not a way to start the week.
Monday - flu/cold/something nasty hit me pretty hard.
Tuesday - slept all day... literally! Missed band, rather pissed about it.
Wednesday - sick, blowing my nose, coughing, moaning and groaning, slept through all the crap meds. I don't really recall Mon-Wed.
Thursday - I spent over an hour playing psychologist for my poor stressed out mother (they're about to lose their house and lots of other issues I can't discuss)
Friday - Matt got laid off... again! The day pretty much went downhill from there.
Saturday - My symptoms mutated from snuffly cold to achy flu, I now have no clue what I've caught and it's not getting better. Then to top it off, Capone got diarrhea all over the carpet... joy!
Sunday - I got a call that my brother-in-law's family were in a serious accident; a chunk of metal went through their windshield while driving down the freeway, hit my uncle-in-law in the face, busted his jaw and eye socket, missed piercing his brain by half an inch, then it went through the back of the car and missed his son's head by two inches. The impact knocked him out, and by a miracle his wife managed to grab the wheel and keep them from crashing or flipping. He's in the hospital awaiting massive reconstructive surgery; my sister's family is in shock.
Monday - A new week, I'm just beginning to feel better, then I'm woken up at 2am with a bloody nose. Once that's stopped, my stomach began to seriously cramp up and I realized I started my period. I have a feeling today is not going to turn out good at all.
Then tomorrow.... the most liberal President since FDR will be sworn in. Although he's African American and I'm glad the color barrier that has plagued politics in this country has been broken at last, and he seems very charismatic and surrounding himself with people who know what they're doing, I severely disagree with Obama's views and worry what might become of this country.
(psst, FYI-- Franklin D. Roosevelt used the New Deal to give people jobs, but he prolonged the Depression in the process, and our country could not recover until we were thrust into WWII... so a Socialist President coming into power during a time of financial meltdown with world events looking like a bad Hollywood rendition of Armageddon... yeah, it concerns me. We're praying... a lot!)
I am afraid to wonder what ELSE could happen. If I say it aloud, I might jinx something.
Can I just have a do-over? Where is the reset button on life?
Sunday - started getting sick, not a way to start the week.
Monday - flu/cold/something nasty hit me pretty hard.
Tuesday - slept all day... literally! Missed band, rather pissed about it.
Wednesday - sick, blowing my nose, coughing, moaning and groaning, slept through all the crap meds. I don't really recall Mon-Wed.
Thursday - I spent over an hour playing psychologist for my poor stressed out mother (they're about to lose their house and lots of other issues I can't discuss)
Friday - Matt got laid off... again! The day pretty much went downhill from there.
Saturday - My symptoms mutated from snuffly cold to achy flu, I now have no clue what I've caught and it's not getting better. Then to top it off, Capone got diarrhea all over the carpet... joy!
Sunday - I got a call that my brother-in-law's family were in a serious accident; a chunk of metal went through their windshield while driving down the freeway, hit my uncle-in-law in the face, busted his jaw and eye socket, missed piercing his brain by half an inch, then it went through the back of the car and missed his son's head by two inches. The impact knocked him out, and by a miracle his wife managed to grab the wheel and keep them from crashing or flipping. He's in the hospital awaiting massive reconstructive surgery; my sister's family is in shock.
Monday - A new week, I'm just beginning to feel better, then I'm woken up at 2am with a bloody nose. Once that's stopped, my stomach began to seriously cramp up and I realized I started my period. I have a feeling today is not going to turn out good at all.
Then tomorrow.... the most liberal President since FDR will be sworn in. Although he's African American and I'm glad the color barrier that has plagued politics in this country has been broken at last, and he seems very charismatic and surrounding himself with people who know what they're doing, I severely disagree with Obama's views and worry what might become of this country.
(psst, FYI-- Franklin D. Roosevelt used the New Deal to give people jobs, but he prolonged the Depression in the process, and our country could not recover until we were thrust into WWII... so a Socialist President coming into power during a time of financial meltdown with world events looking like a bad Hollywood rendition of Armageddon... yeah, it concerns me. We're praying... a lot!)
I am afraid to wonder what ELSE could happen. If I say it aloud, I might jinx something.
Can I just have a do-over? Where is the reset button on life?
Sunday, January 11, 2009
The Plot Less Traveled
Matt gave a warm reception to my latest chapter. It involved him running into the living room, grabbing me up, jumping up and down, shouting "Gimme more, gimme more! Want next chapter! More! More!" I think that's the most encouraging reception I've ever received.
Any writer knows, no matter how you plot your novel, no matter how detailed the outline or extensive the notes, sometimes an event happens that you just don't expect. In my case, Matt has been watching Charmed reruns for months, going through the entire series, and is now going back through for episodes he particularly liked. He has ideas he wants to see done in Shadowstrider. Some things I think are intriguing, some I just raise an eyebrow and tell him firmly "No!"
I have a character with psionic abilities. Matt's idea was to have this character able to, for lack of a better word, teleport. It's a lot cooler explained than simply she can go from one place to another instantaneously, but I'm trying to keep things vague so I won't spoil any plotiness.
This concept of teleportation was solely Matt's idea, having watched a dozen ways the demons, witches, and white-lighters do this on the television show. A cheap plot device, hero has to get ten miles away to save helpless dame from evil demon, but jumping into your car and driving that far, especially in San Francisco where the show takes place, will take such a long time, our hapless dame would be worse than dead by then. How do we shorten the episode time and make things more fast-paced and exciting? Oh wow, look, they can teleport anywhere, and lookie, simple computer graphics make it all so pretty!
Matt basically wants to turn my character into a white-lighters, "orbing" from one place to another, with the body dissolving into white glowing orbs of energy that float away. The concept of turning into energy was one I established back in Book 3, and this is Book 8, so it's not something new. In Book 7, it is a major issue in almost a third of the story. Other characters have turned into energy, but energy has to travel. Going from point A to point B can be done super quick, but teleporting? I dunno...
So we've been haggling how to handle this. Charmed is all about magic. Shadowstrider makes fun of the possibilities that exist in the realm of science being passed off as impossible and therefore shoved into the catch-all phrase of "magic." So whatever it is I'm doing, it has to be within the laws of physics. E=mc^2
Of course, all of Books 7 & 8 are Matt's idea. If I stray from the usual pattern, I can blame him. The two of us, over dinner at Shari's, came up with an outline for these two books, but it was generalized for the most part. I have strayed from so many key issues. Just a few days ago, I went through and changed the names of three characters, including one who is mentioned in all ten books. About to wrap this story up, and I'm making massive changes like that!
Then again, the fun things about plot outlines is deviating away from them and seeing what strange areas we end up in.
At least the reception he gave me after reading the finish chapter was good.
Any writer knows, no matter how you plot your novel, no matter how detailed the outline or extensive the notes, sometimes an event happens that you just don't expect. In my case, Matt has been watching Charmed reruns for months, going through the entire series, and is now going back through for episodes he particularly liked. He has ideas he wants to see done in Shadowstrider. Some things I think are intriguing, some I just raise an eyebrow and tell him firmly "No!"
I have a character with psionic abilities. Matt's idea was to have this character able to, for lack of a better word, teleport. It's a lot cooler explained than simply she can go from one place to another instantaneously, but I'm trying to keep things vague so I won't spoil any plotiness.
This concept of teleportation was solely Matt's idea, having watched a dozen ways the demons, witches, and white-lighters do this on the television show. A cheap plot device, hero has to get ten miles away to save helpless dame from evil demon, but jumping into your car and driving that far, especially in San Francisco where the show takes place, will take such a long time, our hapless dame would be worse than dead by then. How do we shorten the episode time and make things more fast-paced and exciting? Oh wow, look, they can teleport anywhere, and lookie, simple computer graphics make it all so pretty!
Matt basically wants to turn my character into a white-lighters, "orbing" from one place to another, with the body dissolving into white glowing orbs of energy that float away. The concept of turning into energy was one I established back in Book 3, and this is Book 8, so it's not something new. In Book 7, it is a major issue in almost a third of the story. Other characters have turned into energy, but energy has to travel. Going from point A to point B can be done super quick, but teleporting? I dunno...
So we've been haggling how to handle this. Charmed is all about magic. Shadowstrider makes fun of the possibilities that exist in the realm of science being passed off as impossible and therefore shoved into the catch-all phrase of "magic." So whatever it is I'm doing, it has to be within the laws of physics. E=mc^2
Of course, all of Books 7 & 8 are Matt's idea. If I stray from the usual pattern, I can blame him. The two of us, over dinner at Shari's, came up with an outline for these two books, but it was generalized for the most part. I have strayed from so many key issues. Just a few days ago, I went through and changed the names of three characters, including one who is mentioned in all ten books. About to wrap this story up, and I'm making massive changes like that!
Then again, the fun things about plot outlines is deviating away from them and seeing what strange areas we end up in.
At least the reception he gave me after reading the finish chapter was good.
Friday, January 09, 2009
The Sex Scene
A writer friend and I were discussing sex scenes in novels. These tend to go three ways:
1) PG-13 fluff, man and woman kiss, maybe go so far as to collapse together in a bed, cut scene before anyone gets naked;
2) trashy romance novels, rippling muscles, heaving breasts;
3) smut-books, oh-baby-god-yes with screaming profanity.
In her endearingly blatant way, my friend brought up that people either fear any form of romantic involvement between characters (oh dear, high schools can't force their apathetic students to analyze your novel), they read Fanny Hill as a teen and think anything vaguely erotic has to contain enough nearly-archaic words to make the reader forget what is going on as they research a dictionary (example: "lo, a turgid passion did throb in the weapon of his manhood as, through the revealing casement, he beheld the swathes of virescent and rufous chenille tumble off the junoesque ingénue, disclosing her swart opulence, as her limpid orbs gazed wistfully into the hesperian blush of the gloaming welkin"), or they are oversexed (or even more likely, undersexed) slash wannabes who believe every moan of the porno business, that sex really can't be good unless it involves oral, vaginal, and anal sex with a cum shot and lots of vulgarities. Androgynous boys and lesbian twins help, too. And fetishes. Lots of fetishes.
Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but the last thing I want to hear as I experience utter physical bliss is a guy yelling "oh f***, yeah, you b****, I f***ing love how you f*** my c*ck." Just ... no!
In the book I'm currently working on, more than in any other serious project, I'm faced with many explicit scenes as my young main character discovers love in its many forms, from cute teen love with fears of loss of virginity, to endearing romance and walks along the beach, to the persistent jerk who only wants a wife, to total WTF oddities only possible in the realm of science fiction. Therefore, I've been experimenting with how many ways to present the trouble of a love scene.
I've already had my husband tell me to tone down one scene, and for my own defense, I knew it was over the top, reaching into Category 3: the smut novel. It was an experiment in writing, done mostly because I wanted to see if I could write that graphically. I got it out of my system, yay me, time to get serious again and at least tame it to rated R. After all, I want Barnes and Noble to be able to sell this book, not Fanny Hill's Bordello of Books.
I've also gone so far as to write a whole love scene in which I say very little about what the two characters are doing, but by describing what is going on around them (sex on the beach is very nature-filled) I show the reader precisely what is going on in my own roundabout way. And yes, there are many cutaway scenes, nothing more than pulling toward the bedroom, then cut to the next morning. After all, a reader doesn't have to be told the gory details every time a couple copulates or the intensity of the scene vanishes into blasé acceptance. Ho hum, she's at it again.
One thing I aim for in any lovemaking scene is the "love" part, an element too often missing in novels these days. Even if it's with a total stranger or friend-with-benefits, there has got to be a reason, emotions the character feels. I don't want to be Lady Chatterley's Lover and spend ten pages delving into his/her emotional mindset, not when it'll probably take the reader longer to read all that emo-tripe than it would take them to have the ride of their life, but I think a reader deserves to know just why Johnny and Susy are playing hanky-panky in the backseat of a Buick.
Crude? Verbose? Coy? The nice thing about this current project is I have 800+ pages already (yeah, major editing needed) to experiment a little with it all, from the adorable to the abnormal. And if it's too much, that's what editors are for. I'm sure, like my husband, someone's going to tell me to take it down a few notches.
1) PG-13 fluff, man and woman kiss, maybe go so far as to collapse together in a bed, cut scene before anyone gets naked;
2) trashy romance novels, rippling muscles, heaving breasts;
3) smut-books, oh-baby-god-yes with screaming profanity.
In her endearingly blatant way, my friend brought up that people either fear any form of romantic involvement between characters (oh dear, high schools can't force their apathetic students to analyze your novel), they read Fanny Hill as a teen and think anything vaguely erotic has to contain enough nearly-archaic words to make the reader forget what is going on as they research a dictionary (example: "lo, a turgid passion did throb in the weapon of his manhood as, through the revealing casement, he beheld the swathes of virescent and rufous chenille tumble off the junoesque ingénue, disclosing her swart opulence, as her limpid orbs gazed wistfully into the hesperian blush of the gloaming welkin"), or they are oversexed (or even more likely, undersexed) slash wannabes who believe every moan of the porno business, that sex really can't be good unless it involves oral, vaginal, and anal sex with a cum shot and lots of vulgarities. Androgynous boys and lesbian twins help, too. And fetishes. Lots of fetishes.
Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but the last thing I want to hear as I experience utter physical bliss is a guy yelling "oh f***, yeah, you b****, I f***ing love how you f*** my c*ck." Just ... no!
In the book I'm currently working on, more than in any other serious project, I'm faced with many explicit scenes as my young main character discovers love in its many forms, from cute teen love with fears of loss of virginity, to endearing romance and walks along the beach, to the persistent jerk who only wants a wife, to total WTF oddities only possible in the realm of science fiction. Therefore, I've been experimenting with how many ways to present the trouble of a love scene.
I've already had my husband tell me to tone down one scene, and for my own defense, I knew it was over the top, reaching into Category 3: the smut novel. It was an experiment in writing, done mostly because I wanted to see if I could write that graphically. I got it out of my system, yay me, time to get serious again and at least tame it to rated R. After all, I want Barnes and Noble to be able to sell this book, not Fanny Hill's Bordello of Books.
I've also gone so far as to write a whole love scene in which I say very little about what the two characters are doing, but by describing what is going on around them (sex on the beach is very nature-filled) I show the reader precisely what is going on in my own roundabout way. And yes, there are many cutaway scenes, nothing more than pulling toward the bedroom, then cut to the next morning. After all, a reader doesn't have to be told the gory details every time a couple copulates or the intensity of the scene vanishes into blasé acceptance. Ho hum, she's at it again.
One thing I aim for in any lovemaking scene is the "love" part, an element too often missing in novels these days. Even if it's with a total stranger or friend-with-benefits, there has got to be a reason, emotions the character feels. I don't want to be Lady Chatterley's Lover and spend ten pages delving into his/her emotional mindset, not when it'll probably take the reader longer to read all that emo-tripe than it would take them to have the ride of their life, but I think a reader deserves to know just why Johnny and Susy are playing hanky-panky in the backseat of a Buick.
Crude? Verbose? Coy? The nice thing about this current project is I have 800+ pages already (yeah, major editing needed) to experiment a little with it all, from the adorable to the abnormal. And if it's too much, that's what editors are for. I'm sure, like my husband, someone's going to tell me to take it down a few notches.
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