There's not a whole lot of plot to discuss here: if you're interested in this movie you already know what happens and can guess how it ends. It's a movie with simple messages, ostensibly for children. That said, it's also the most crushingly depressing cartoon with themes of overconsumption/pollution/rule by megacorporations and the futility of individual existence that I have ever seen.
My two cousins and their friends won a movie contest!
My cousins are the lead star (pony tailed steven seagal look alike)and the mohawked sniper in this film:
They won a playstation 3. Contest entries and review is here.
The judges verdict:
"Overall entertainment in video-50%"
So this is the deciding factor I guess. Both are highly entertaining and arguably better moviemaking than Seagal's Submerged or Ticker. I'm very proud of these guys. It was a toss-up, but I decided to go with Killing Time. There are so many funny little jokes but not at the expense of seeming almost like a real action movie. Lots of good guns, a mohawked sniper, and most of all a monster truck. Maybe they faked me out, but I get the impression these crazy fuckers actually crushed an old pickup truck for this contest. That is not somebody you want on the streets, that is somebody you want indoors playing Playstation 3. So with all due respect to the excellent Impossible To Kill, I gave first prize to Killing Time.
System Administration is a profession filled with long pauses. Computers really aren't fast. At least not as fast as human thought. Sure things move at the speed of near light (electrons on circuits), but CPUs still are not as fast as the speed of thought. They just seem that way because they have the benefit of living in a closed system world of relatively small size. The job itself swings from oh shit moments of pure terror (system down! code brown!) to moments of boredom (meetings, paperwork, inventory). System maintenance is a bit of a mix. You have minutes of intense activity and worry (i.e. hope this survives the reboot test) and looooong stretches of boredom (hundreds of patches being applied one at a time).
During these long stretches of waiting; but you can't walk away type of waiting you have to sit and watch. The mind wanders. I found myself listening to my 'Gallifrey Public Radio' playlist. Its a playlist of non-DRM mp3s from either CDs I've ripped at home,or acquired via legal methods (i.e. artists websites offering free downloads). Its a hodge-podge of genres and sounds. In me sounds, like smells evoke strong memories. Time, places, feelings, like a wayback machine. So I've been flopping around time and space for the last three hours while this system patches.
Its better than cable.
I also joined twitter. Not sure if I'll continue using it. I get where its coming from, and the demographic its meant to server, but I'm not sure I like it. Twitter seems like a service for those people who feel the need to talk...constantly. When I'm doing it feels stupid as my life isn't that interesting. Reading others and I feel like a perverted voyeur. But its 'hip' and 'it' so I'll give this twit shit a try.
My first twit was 'taking a mental twit' because that is what it feels like when you tweet. Like you're sitting on the edge of the cesspool that is the Internet and excreting the mental equivalent of a bowel movement.
Much like blogging actually, but for the attention deficit.
And at that YouTube videos.
Its not that my creative juices have been low, in fact they have been flowing. Just I've been spread in a lot of different directions. A lot of my energy has been dumped into my Guild. We've picked up a lot of new, wonderful people lately. Nerdwife has also broke sixty and well into Outlands, so I've been spending time with her there.
As I've stated before, WoW is what most people have as TV time. I do this for a few hours in the evening, usually after chores (though sometimes not), and if I don't have work. I think its far more interesting and definitely more interactive than what has been on TV for the last few years. The only exception is the of course our one TV addiction. I've started a new alt for farming and possibly raiding. He's a druid. I plan for him to be feral/restoration and plan to swap as needed. Our guild has a bit of a tank shortage at the moment, as we still have a number of tanks leveling (as well as new healers). I plan to have a character that can fulfill a tank or healer role as needed in raids. But he's only level 13 so I have a while to decide. I have numerous alts that I've started for various professions; my shaman the leatherworker; my hunter the jewelcrafter; my warlock the tailor and enchanter; my druid the herbalist and skinner; my mage the pyro-maniac engineer; my warrior the blacksmith. But none of these are as much fun or have a special place in my heart that Pernox occupies. My energy in game has been spent being a liaison between IoD and another guild 'Total Recall' which is the reincarnation of the original guild I first joined when I started WoW. We've merged our resources to help us progress in 25 man end game content. So far its worked well. We're moving beyond Gruul's Lair and into Tempest Keep and Serpentshrine Caverns. We've even stuck our toes into Mount Hyjal.
So yes WoW has been a big chunk of my free and creative time. But its not all that I've been doing.
I keep two journals now. One is my day to day that I've been keeping for years now. Its up to volume 2. It contains my thoughts and feelings and interpretations on my journey through life. My other journal is a creative writing project. I'm trying to develop my skills as a writer. I've always wanted to be able to tell stories. My first project I assigned to myself is something I know well, Pernox. I'm trying to write a journal from the perspective of my character. Its written in first person and is intended to be a journal of travels and advice for future Deathstalkers (Forsaken rogues). Its pretty bland. But other writers who have either training in writing or are professional writers tell me that the first step is to start writing. Keep writing stuff until you've refined your basic technical skills and develop your own style.
The other project I've been working on is my 10+ year quest to learn the bass guitar. Its really hard for me. I have a book 'Bass Guitar for Dummies' and I've been spending time just learning the strings and getting my hands, used to a lifetime at the keyboard, to learn how to move on the strings. The bass I have is a hand me down, and it has some imperfections. I'm getting used enough to the sounds and how things should sound that I think for my birthday this year I will buy myself a new learner bass. I've also found some videos on YouTube that I've been watching.
Work has been more of a grind than WoW. I've moved beyond soul sucking. I've checked out. I have a couple of projects that are high impact and somewhat interesting. But this place has finally broke me. I don't have the energy or the will to continue to try and change things for the better. I'm just passing time and collecting a paycheck and trying not to get fired until Nerdwife and I are ready to move away from Rochester. Training budget has been frozen since 2006 so I've not been able to add anything to my skillset, which means its time to get out of here before my skills degrade anymore. I've also not felt that I can stand behind my work that I've done here. Which hurts. I've always taken pride in my work. Even if it hasn't been the greatest, I would stand by it and use my failures as learning experiences. Here it doesn't matter. It takes so much effort and energy and time to get anything changed here I'm just gonna take the path of least resistance. Do what I can. And polish my resume and tap into my network of contacts as to how the job prospects are for my profession.
Nerdwife and I haven't decided where we're gonna go yet. We have some ideas. One this is for sure. Once we leave Rochester, we will never look back, nor will we probably ever come back. I won't say the last four years of our lives have been wasted here, but it was amazing how fast four years of progress and advancement can be taken away on pure fabrication, hearsay, jealousy, and pettiness.
Last weekend we spent the 4th at a BBQ with our friends in the Cities, many of whom I've not seen for months. I miss those people. Genuine, real friends. People who weren't just pretending to be nice. People who we could let our guard down and with whom we could be ourselves. Something we don't get to do in Rochester, save in the remaining sanctuary of our home. I went to Nerdnight the following day and played a guest appearance. It felt good rolling the dice again with the Nerds. Even though I was in Rochester, I used to religiously go to Nerdnight twice a month. However I had to take a break due to the events of last April. I'm on extended leave, but it felt good to know I will have a place at the table.
Much good news with some of the Nerds. Goran, who in my opinion has had one of the most interesting life paths of anyone I know, has in the last year found his birth certificate (was lost in a fire). Picked up a passport (so he and John can travel, especially to Sweden and Finland). Found his family and extended family. And now will be able to marry John, legally in California. I wept with joy and happiness for my friends.
I've been drained a lot lately. I don't think its anything to worry about other than anxiety over how things have been unfolding the last few months. I've not slept well. I keep having feelings of helplessness and hopelessness randomly.
I think I'm still losing weight, but my eating patterns have been up and down. I still need to lose a lot of weight. I need to ride my bike more. I stopped going to the gym when the badness started since many of the people who are central to it went there at the same times we did.
I'll never forgive those people, ever. People who I called friend, shared food with, let into my house and my life. Its not my nature to wish ill on people. But with these people, I would not feel bad if I heard something tragic happened to them. These duplicitous bastards deserve whatever bad things in life happen to them for what they've done.
One day at a time. One problem at a time.
PV Hifana
Five of the shittiest books I've forced myself to finish because I started them:
(in no particular order)
*The Lost Fleet: Courageous by Jack Campell; derivative of about every other type of desperate fleet action book in this genre.
*World of Warcraft: Rise of the Horde by Christie Golden; bland, shallow, not terribly well written in my opinion.
*Zodiac: The Eco-Thriller by Neal Stephenson; I think the mistake I made with this book was I read his other works first, Cryptonomicon, Snow Crash, and the first book of the Quicksilver trilogy before attempting this one. I didn't like it at all.
*About half the Star Wars paperback novels ever written by various authors and I'm being generous.
*Moby Dick by Herman Mellville; I've read the first chapter about a dozen times and that is all the farther I can get. Maybe I'm being to harsh on this as its a classic. Or maybe it suffers from what Mark Twain said about classics "A classic is something that everybody wants to have read and nobody wants to read." And I read War and Peace, cover to cover.
Wow. For the first time since June 11, 2002 I missed the date.
June 11 2002 was the day I was diagnosed with AML m4 inv16 with EOS. A date that has changed my life forever.
But I forgot it this year.
Progress?
I grasp at some writings like a toddler with a blanket, clutching worn-thin and stained volumes with greasy hands and hiding my face in them for comfort. To my surprise, two that I read today speak to one's role as witness and historian: a topic on my mind lately, and one I'll post on again later.
I Go Back to May 1937
I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges,
I see my father strolling out
under the ochre sandstone arch, the
red tiles glinting like bent
plates of blood behind his head, I
see my mother with a few light books at her hip
standing at the pillar made of tiny bricks with the
wrought-iron gate still open behind her, its
sword-tips black in the May air,
they are about to graduate, they are about to get married,
they are kids, they are dumb, all they know is they are
innocent, they would never hurt anybody.
I want to go to them and say Stop,
don't do it- she's the wrong woman,
he's the wrong man, you are going to do things
you cannot imagine you would ever do,
you are going to do bad things to children,
you are going to suffer in ways you never heard of,
you are going to want to die. I want to go
up to them in the late May sunlight and say it,
her hungry pretty blank face turning to me,
her pitiful beautiful untouched body,
his arrogant handsome blind face turning to me,
his pitiful beautiful untouched body,
but I don't do it. I want to live. I
take them up like the male and female
paper dolls and bang them together
at the hips like chips of flint as if to
strike sparks from them, I say
Do what you are going to do, and I will tell about it.
-from The Gold Cell, by Sharon Olds
The Gift of Tongues
Everything I steal, I give away.
Once, in pines almost as tall as these,
same crescent moon sliding gently by,
I sat curled on my knees, smoking with a friend,
sipping tea, swapping coyote tales and lies.
He said something to me
about words, that each is a name,
and that every name is God's. I who have
no god sat in the vast emptiness silent
as I could be. A way that can be named
is not the way. Each word reflects
the Spirit which can't be named. Each word
a gift, its value in exact proportion
to the spirit in which it is given.
Thus spoken, these words I give
by way of Lao Tzu's old Chinese, stolen
by a humble thief twenty-five centuries later.
The Word is the only evidence of the real:
in the Hopi tongue, there is no whale;
and, in American English, no Fourth World.
-From Destination Zero by Sam Hamill
My efforts at real musical talent (learning bass guitar) pale in relation to my natural ability to match colors like a trained chimp on a plastic faux-axe. Perhaps I should plumb the depths of my soul and see if I have the 'airness' required to truly rock out with my...um...nevermind, with an imaginary instrument. My song would probably be 'Rock You Like Hurricane' by the Scorpions. No, that is my special love ballad for Nerdwife only. I think my backup would be 'Killing in the Name of' by Rage Against the Machine. I can do angry-angst fueled alterno-politico-rock. Guerilla memes in the membrane.
...of Warcraft.
Over the last few weeks I helped Erewhon (aka Nerdwife) craft a now rare warlock cloth pattern. The Robe of the Void.
Running up and down the sidewalk yelling 'I'm gonna fuck you in the eye hole!'
Neighbor across the street has his two little (~4 year old) grandkids visiting again for the summer. I think they may have been watching movies with the big kids (college age/high school).
Made my morning.
Just realized I haven't done a list like this in a while.
What I'm reading
Ok I'm done with Rochester. I've deluded myself for four years that I like my job and I like this town. I don't. Time for something new, but what? Between our kindness and generosity being repaid 10 fold with vitriol, jealousy, contempt and malciciousness to the inability to find a good, free trade, cup of joe from a locally owned shop. This town has lost its luster and has started to blow.
Sure its not been all bad. I have met new friends, made some contacts that I'll carry with me. I've learned how to find and make your own fun. I've tasted what its like to not have to drive to work. I bought a new bike that I love. But the overall experience has been a negative one. The first year wasn't so bad, but its been a steady decline. The politics of this area, the MN nice racism and bigotry, the if you don't have a family you don't have nothing mentality have started to grate me and my emotional balance raw. This place is not utopia, its a suburban hell that glosses over and covers up its problems well (Stepford?). The people, while overall generally nice have perfected MN nice. I have to watch my back or feel like I have to now. Something I never felt in the 12 years I lived in the Cities. At work people over inflate their position and their power and jealously, and viciously guard what little they, even if it means destroying you and yours for even a little gain. This place is a like an adolescent. It doesn't know what the real world is like and its been sheltered for too long.
Its felt like Rochester has never wanted me or Nerdwife and now the feeling is mutual.
I miss the nerdpod. I miss my favorite coffeehouse. I miss actual liberals. I miss diversity of arts and culture. I miss good theater. I miss my nerdstore.
Sorry, just had to rant a little bit.
