The Point of Divergence

Classes start on the 20th. I'm still not sure about a lot of things, like housing, classes, and books; I've left way too much for this late. Next summer, I think I'll work part-time. Still, I've spent so much time watching anime and hanging out on IRC...every way I turn, my own inadequacies in all these essential areas pop out at me. Organization, self-discipline, time management, household maintenance...it's even more obvious with my ever-so-competent older sister back here.

I named this post after some thinking I was doing. Fred Gallagher almost never seems to be able to get a Megatokyo page up on time; it's not uncommon for him to miss pages altogether. Indeed, he's somewhat infamous for it. Now, contrast him with, say, Howard Tayler of Schlock Mercenary, which is famous for several things, but maybe most of all the fact that it has probably the best track record in all webcomicdom with these things - it's run daily since June 6, 2000, and has never missed a single update. So what separates the two?

Some cynics would make a sneer along the lines of "Howard has a work ethic and Fred doesn't," but that still explains very little. Even if it were the reason, why would it be so? There's a big cause-and-effect chain here, and I'm trying to figure it out - at what point do the successful and the unsuccessful in a given endeavor begin to differ, and how does this end up leading to their fates? For instance, I've been told with something I was trying to do, or a habit I wanted to break that "clearly, I didn't really want it." But that makes no sense - why would I be trying at all if I didn't want it? And what's this "really wanting" mean anyhow? Sounds like saying "no true Scotsman" to me. Is it possible to not want something, but to want to want it?

For some reason, even when I know what I'm supposed to do and why, I can't seem to do it. That's what I've been puzzling over for months. What separates me from the...well, the non-losers? I've started to suspect that I'm thinking of myself in the third person too much, maybe that's it. One way or another, I'll have to conquer whatever this is before too long, or I'll bomb this semester too. To use the more romantic terminology, after the last year of my life, I have to redeem myself.

In fact, I actually changed my wallpaper to say "REDEMPTION" in white on black, as a reminder to myself. I got the idea when I was rereading the Sluggy Freelance arc "That Which Redeems." Yeah, I'm gonna be a great student...

And by the way, I've been buying one volume of the Negima! manga each week, because Border's had them sealed, no libraries here have them, an online acquaintance highly recommended them (but said not to bother with the anime adaptations), and I wanted to spend some of my work money. No, I'm not reading it for the panty shots...I'd actually prefer less of those, but Negima!? apparently has too much of a messed-up plot. I've also been watching Kanon (finished episode 15), Mai-Otome (episode 7), Chobits (4), and even some Love Hina. I must also admit to having torrented sixteen episodes (so far) of Avatar: The Last Airbender. In movies, I've seen Children of Men, The Fifth Element, and Office Space as of late. And that's all for tonight.

End of a Dream

I am no longer taking a drawing class.

Yesterday morning, I woke up to a phone call from a woman at the JCC. She was very apologetic, but it seems I am no longer welcome in the drawing class I was taking. I had a minor breakdown in last Tuesday's class, see, and apparently some of the other students complained. I don't know how it all happened exactly, but I'm not in the class anymore.

Here's hoping I can get half our money back. I took three of the six classes; the fourth would've been today. I dunno that the latter half of the course would've been that much use anyway; it seemed like the teacher was tending toward mostly still lifes. She said maybe we'd work on perspective by the last class, and never hinted at learning to draw people. One of the parental units said she's actually not a certified teacher, even. Well, I don't think still lifes are gonna be much help for getting me to the making-a-graphic-novel point; looks like I'm back to seeking help from WoK, spoony bard, and Hibiki. Least I have a sketchpad now.

I went to work a while after the rejection call and started working on this web site at work again. Some background: apparently, we were the last in a string of designers for this site, the previous of which was some guy from India who clearly had no clue how to write code, markup or otherwise, used a blob of Flash for the header that was on every single (static HTML) page, and worst of all, most or all of the links at the top of this header (which we don't have the source for) went to a link farm. Some of the pages on this site had dozens of links to completely irrelevant sites, and I couldn't just delete the pages because then the header would have broken links. I've been trying to write a new header in HTML and CSS, but it's slow going - I don't know much about color choices and such, or the "design" part at all, really.

It's amazing how much time this sucks up. I still have one episode left on my Babylon 5 disc which I've had for weeks (?), and I've got so much drawing and writing and figuring-out-whether-I-want-to-change-my-major-to-computer-science and whatnot to do. Still, I've finished Nanoha A's (14-year-old Nanoha has a WEIRD hairstyle) and I'm up to episode 36 of Monster and 6 of Deltora Quest. By the way, I was thrilled to find out about that series. I used to love the books, and if nothing else, it's entertaining to watch the writers try and figure out how to change English wordplay into something suitable for Japanese viewers. I've got Kanon and My/Mai-Otome on my iPod's hard drive, but no time to watch them.

By the way, disregard the paragraph about this web site I was working on. It was written last night, and I was reassigned today. This new site uses the blink tag. Ugh. Well, it could be worse.

We've had a lot of family over lately, some even from out of country. I found out that my cousin reads Megatokyo too, and he even loaned me his Full Metal Panic! manga to read over Shabbat. It's good stuff.

Lastly, I would like to credit the title of this post to the most excellent "Erico," who wrote a Mega Man X fanfic years ago with that name. Now if you'll pardon me, it's time for me to go be depressed for no readily apparent reason.

I has a wages

I'm employed. I have a job.

My first job interview was on Friday at 1:00. One phone call later, I got the job. I'm going to be paid $7 an hour, starting at 9:30 on Monday. This is a seriously big deal for me - it'll be the first time I've actually earned money by working.

The job interview went all over the place after he asked what my interests were. I tried to keep an open mind going in, but I definitely didn't expect a discussion about which incarnation of Superman was the truest. (He favors Earth-One, complaining that Supes was basically ruined after the Crisis.) Or the divorce rate.

He also talked about his daughter, claiming she got her master's in nine months because she wanted to get away from the place she was in ASAP. And saying she multiplied her reading speed like ten times in a speed-reading course. (Either 240 to 3000 or 300 to 2400 words per minute, I forget which.) For some reason, I get uncomfortable when people talk about speed-reading, or when StumbleUpon feeds me web pages about it. I'm not sure why...I think it may have something to do with the fact that I used to think I was a fast reader. Another example would be this random brag. Of course, Sparky irritates me anyway...has ever since I joined the MTF. There's just something about him - the way he posts, the bizarre theories he clings to, the impression of being very slightly "off" - that rubs me the wrong way.

Anyway, changing the subject, I missed out on a whole lot of Shabbat this week, because around 6:30 PM on Friday, my circadian rhythm strangely inverted. I slept until 11PM (meaning I missed dinner, and since my little sister's off at camp, it was just my parents), stayed up reading library books till maybe 8:00, then slept again until 6:30. Madness. And I have to be up in time to get ready to go and get through traffic on Monday.

Oh, and I've finished A's episode 9. Been waiting for that "awkward meeting" for a while. ^_^

Raging Heart, onegai!

I finally started watching Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha a week, maybe a week and a half ago, and I've already seen the whole first season plus the first six episodes of A's. Nineteen episodes total, and in all the months I've been watching Monster, my count is only at thirty. (By the way, Precia is reeeeeally easy to hate.) Maybe I'm just forcing myself to watch Monster, and I'm not really enjoying it after all.

Dad and I saw Spamalot on the 3rd. I liked the bit about the African swallow having "lovely plumage."

I've been writing a mirror for The Schoolkids Saga, since Philweasel was kind enough to give me some advice for my "Elseworlds" fork of the Megatokyo story, /megatokyo/cave. Sadly, that hasn't gotten much feedback. It's supposed to be a community effort, dammit. I can't write the next chapter until I get some decent discussion as to where it's supposed to go. Maybe I should ask Alpicola to move it to SD main. That Fanworks split has done no good whatsoever. You reading this, Cortana? NONE.

I've slain my thirteenth colossus. And I've had some more interaction with the guy from NetSlyder, who didn't get my resume the first time I sent it and TWICE sent an email with no content except a request for info about work experience. Like that wouldn't be in the resume to begin with. I uploaded a highly incomplete version of the code I'd written for the SKS mirror. The PHP's probably crap. I can't think of any way to write a navbar (next and previous chapters) that allows for side stories except to write a separate function using reset(), next(), and a while loop to set an array's internal pointer to an arbitrary entry. It's a lame hack, I know. I'm already using one-entry nested arrays to indicate the presence of case notes. It'll probably be an improvement if I can find out about a function that tells if a file exists.

And last Tuesday, I took my first drawing class at the JCC. I was somewhat surprised at my being the only male in the room. I produced three drawings: a blind contour drawing of my hand, a still life with some boxes, and a still life with some boxes and styrofoam. A couple of nights ago, at a restaurant, I also drew a pepper shaker. Now, a question: why have I not spent half my spare time since that lesson drawing? I know perfectly well that there are only three ways to improve: practice, practice, and practice. I have so far to go before I can produce anything worth showing the Wired. And I keep talking with people who are so much better at art than I am (by the way, Neo and I haven't spoken since the last time), and I wonder - did they go through this? Did they have to force themselves to draw, again and again, like a kid practicing piano? Or did they have to force themselves NOT to draw, and took drawing courses because that's where they felt comfortable? Has there always been a little artist in them struggling to get out, that they took years to help along that way, or have THEY had to extract IT kicking and screaming, or (maybe this metaphor is better) make it from scratch?

Sometimes, I just sort of hate myself. More accurately, it's like there's one part of my brain that hates all the other parts, plus itself, and the logic part can only SOMETIMES find anything to argue with. Maybe it's just Wellbutrin withdrawal.

Crash and burn

I didn't realize this was the two-month anniversary of the last time I updated this blog, but I had to come here anyway. After all that work with finals and everything, yesterday I finally discovered what my grades were, expressed most succinctly by my GPA:

1.91.

I'm seriously tired, and not just because I couldn't get to sleep until past 5:00 this morning and I had to get up at 8:30 for a dentist appointment. (Which, by the way, touches on two other things I'm currently failing at.) This semester, I may have lost both my scholarship and my position in the Honors College for good. I have an appointment with my Computer Engineering adviser in four hours (writing this at noon), and I don't know what I'm going to tell her. When I vented in #mt-talkers last night, I endured Sabyr's sneering as a consequence, and read a somewhat decent suggestion to take an exceedingly unpleasant, menial job for the summer, as an incentive. Great. If NetSlyder doesn't work out, I know what to do.

Just what does it take? Why can't I get my brain back on track? Why is it that even when I absolutely know what the right and wrong courses are, I still pick the wrong one? What's keeping me? Am I just lazy? What reason is there to feel like I've driven into the mud? My parents want to help - or to feel like they're helping - but all they know how to do is make me mad, or make me pray to God that their mouths will close. And neither of those help; if anything, I get more distracted. My older sister, when she was here, was worse; when she talked about how busy she was, she made a point of telling me "I don't have time to sit around and play on the computer." Seriously, that HURT. Outside the family? I don't really have any meatspace friends to ask, and the last person I talked to online about self-discipline apparently hates me now. I feel like a failure all-around.

I didn't get much anime watching done over the past two months (I'm on episode 25 of Monster; most of that advancement was since finals ended), although there was some other stuff. Most notably, the night before Passover, my older sisters were in town, and all six of us ('rents, two older sisters and one younger, plus me) went to see the one and only Wicked. We'd been keeping those tickets for over nine months, and we had BEEN planning to see it the FIRST time it came to Houston, over a year ago. (By the time we finally got around to going to buying tickets, they were sold out.) A week or so after we saw it, my dad even made it the center of a sermon.

For my nineteenth birthday, shortly after my last entry, I saw the movie "The Last Mimzy," and whatever people may tell you, I liked it. Around finals, I finally plugged in the first things moved out from my dorm, my game systems, for the first time since packing them up last summer/fall, and started playing The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. That, by the way, was spurred by a Broken MT fanart thread I ducked out of to avoid spoilers, and I realized I'd been putting off buying LoZ:TP for months, and it hadn't gotten any cheaper - so I went to GameStop and bought it with Shadow of the Colossus and Sonic Mega Collection. I haven't opened the latter, but I've slain five colossi and am searching for the final mirror shard.

I've also recently begun a new (for me) forum activity: role-playing. The link is here; I joined in after the Bar Brawl, which one might want to read first (even though I didn't really). It was succeeded by the less wacky, more structured "The Lord of the Book," which resembles Lord of the Rings with catgirls, forum trolls, and ravers. My character, described once as a "cute little human GPS," has quite accidentally gotten involved in a love tetrahedron, which should prove interesting. Physical description...nothing so far save "kinda cute."

Oh, and the other night, for the first time in my life, I saw "Raiders of the Lost Ark," and discovered that "badass" is defined as "Indiana Jones." I might see "Temple of Doom" eventually...after I learn JavaScript, and Perl, and C++, and PHP...and I guess that's enough for this entry. Lunchtime.

Redshirts in flannel

I saw the Lost season 1 finale Tuesday night; 1.x seasons to go. That's no hatch, that's a frelling rabbit hole. As if they weren't already going down one by the pilot's end.

I was kinda interested by Leslie Arzt. I am, of course, familiar with the redshirt effect; I've seen all of the first two episodes of Star Trek: TOS. But I haven't seen any other shows with the effect, so it's interesting to see how it has evolved since the sixties.

• ST redshirts were killed in the episodes they appeared in, usually early on. Arzt had nearly a whole episode before he died.


• ST redshirts had no backstory. Arzt was a 9th-grade English teacher before the crash, and even had a full name given.


• ST redshirts had no real plot relevance. In Arzt's first appearance, he urged the raft-makers that they had to sail as soon as possible to avoid the northern monsoon winds (and seemed to know what he was talking about). Later, he helped provide information on nitroglycerin the others (not Others) needed, though it didn't end the way he would've liked.


• ST redshirts had no significant dialogue. In addition to the "monsoon season" scene, Arzt had a funny conversation with Hurley about his name, a lecture on dynamite, and - impressively - a rant on the nature of cliques, and how the majority of the survivors aren't members of the "in-crowd," i.e. the dozen or so protagonists.


• ST redshirts had no personalities. Arzt was decidedly grumpy.

Funny to think how even the lameness has improved over the years. Steven Johnson's right.

Internet maturity

I don't know why I keep using Digg. Most of my "bookmarking" is with StumbleUpon anyway. And the fact that I occasionally read the comments on articles is surely evidence for masochistic tendencies. It doesn't help that I'm fairly religious either.
Scientology
In any case, I saw something on Digg's front page yesterday that pointed to what I consider the problem with Internet culture today. In a discussion on an article on ZDNet, it seems one jerryleecooper displayed a lack of understanding of the nature of operating systems. He was clearly misinformed, of course. But that's not so much a problem; ignorance can be fixed. The problem is what came next.
Scientology
If you read the replies to his post, the majority are...well, rude. Extremely. With apologies to Bill Nye, consider the following:

Are you kidding me? I... can't... My brain hurts! Please pull your brain out of the box beside your desk and insert in skull before opening your mouth again. I cannot believe that anyone that has an internet connection can be this out of touch with reality. Please, tell me your kidding.

Have you been living under a rock for the last ten years?

HAHAHAHA,
your kidding right?
have you ever used 'the google'?

Wow this is the funniest thing I've read in literally days.... I mean.. you were able to form complete sentences and avoid most spelling errors so I'd imagine you're not mentally handicapped, but GOD DAMN you missed the mark on that one....
WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG....... WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG....... WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG..... WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG.... YOUR WRONG.... YOUR WRONG.... YOUR WRONG.... YOUR WRONG... etc...

For the love of God Jerry! For all our sakes - Open the window when you paint the trailer! Are you trolling or seriously this stupid? I think I've actually gotten stupider having read this.
It's a separate OS you twit. Have a little sense of embarassment and go study before you posts. I'm embarassed FOR you.

I think the re-examination
SHOULD BE ON YOUR HEAD. WHAT KIND OF MORON ARE YOU?
Ahem.
That is all.

Now tell me, why would anybody be so rude? What good does it do to type "WRONG" all those times? Consider laughing. In face-to-face communication, I can understand it. If something's really funny, you can't stop laughing even if you want to. Over the Internet? Nuh uh. Even if you laughed for twenty seconds straight upon reading what someone said, they don't have to know that. You can review what you say before submitting it. You have to actively insert the laughter, meaning rudeness requires effort. These people are actively exerting effort to be as scornful, contemptuous, mocking, and insulting as they possibly can.
Scientology
Actions have consequences. All mature people know this, and choose their actions accordingly. It's practically the definition of maturity. What is the purpose of this behavior? What are the intended consequences? Not to educate Cooper, because that can clearly be done more politely. And the "WHAT KIND OF MORON ARE YOU" post, just to name one, contained no "education" at all. Why consciously choose rudeness? For personal amusement? To "punish" him for making the reader observe his ignorance?
Scientology
And then there's the fact everyone seems to forget: there's somebody on the other end. Just because he can't reach you to hit you doesn't mean he doesn't exist. A certain scene from Megatokyo comes to mind - the one where Kimiko's on the radio show. For the uninitiated (yeah, like anyone's gonna read this), the host, Mumu, was starting to tell an anecdote about a certain obsessive fan ("fanboy," to use the exact term) she encountered one day, presumably to make fun of him. The discussion had just turned to fanboys in general, and this anecdote was mainly intended as an instance of the behavior of the subculture as a whole. But it didn't get very far, because Kimiko interrupted Mumu with something almost unheard of: she demanded to know how Mumu could make fun of this guy on the air, given that he was quite likely listening that very moment (AND that he was one of her bigger fans).
Scientology
It's not even Internet-exclusive. Consider the new show "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?". My little sister is very quick to call contestants stupid when they don't know the answers to questions they haven't been asked for twenty years. But these are people who did very well in high school and college - clearly NOT stupid people. She'd never call them stupid if they were in the same room together, but on TV, they're fair game.
Scientology
Why? Is it the sense of anonymity? I don't think so, because a certain individual I know does this in a relatively tight-knit community where everyone knows who he is. Is it the absence of the possibility of physical retaliation? Is it the temporal disconnect? Are our tendencies toward rudeness that close to the surface, that this is all it takes? Has EVERYBODY forgotten their kindergarten?
Scientology
There's something seriously screwed up with us if over two thousand Diggers get their kicks, guilt-free, by mocking a guy who was misinformed and doesn't know any better.