Un by Dennis Lee

It's hard to believe that this is the same man who gave us such childhood pleasures as Alligator Pie. At first glance, it seems like an almost computer-generated grouping of random words into somewhat syntactically correct poem-like arrangements - colourless green ideas sleeping furiously. But when you read it, you see that it has a plot, although it's like you're looking at the plot through a dirty window without your glasses on. And when you read it out loud, you discover an aural playground. There's a story being told and there are recurring themes as the poems reference each other, but it's all rather beyond me.

My optometrist recommends anti-reflective coating on my glasses to prevent glare when I'm working with a computer.

Problem: I don't know if I have glare problems, because I don't know what glare is for a computer monitor. I know what it is when driving, but I can't extrapolate that to a computer. Can anyone explain glare?

Every single person in my class resembles someone I've met previously. I can go around the room and say "He looks like my cousin, she looks like my parents' friends' daughter, she looks like this girl from my second year English class, she looks like the head of Student Advising from my alma mater."

Perhaps this means that I have already met my quota of people in this world, and we're now into reruns.

A lot of the time, when someone is convicted of rape/murder/general psychopathy, they interview his friends and neighbours on the news, and they say "I can't believe he's a rapist/murderer/psychopath! He was always so charming!"

It's also a characteristic of abusers. They're always very charming, and then become abusive in a domestic situation. And once people find out, they're always like "I had no idea! He was always so charming!"

Question: So why is "charming" still considered a positive personality trait?

I am a geek because:

- I special-ordered a dictionary from the UK because I wasn't happy with the selection available in Toronto.
- When the prof was going around the class asking people how old they were, I intentionally raised my hand because I'm the only one in the room whose age is declined in the genitive case, and I knew that she needed an opening to introduce that concept.
- I already knew how to decline my age because I had read ahead in the textbook.
- But I gave an incorrect, undeclined answer anyway so the prof would have a chance to correct me and write the right answer on the board.
- And then I proceeded to get bored because the rest of the hour was spent introducing the rest of the class to case theory.
- And I found myself thinking "What's wrong with these people? Didn't any of them study German?"
- And it was possibly the first time in as many as eight years that I'd been in an academic setting where no one had studied German.

Things that were not successfully taught to me in elementary and high school:

- The purpose of having multiple drafts of a text isn't just to correct spelling mistakes, it's also to perfect the wording of the text. (I figured this out in 3rd year uni)

- Literary analysis is a specific skill that people need to be taught. It doesn't just pop into people's minds naturally. (This occured to me well after I'd finished university)

- When writing an essay, you need to address or pre-emptively nullify possible objections to your arguments. (This was taught to me in 2nd year uni)

- Criticism of one's essay is not an ad hominem attack (This came to me when I became involved in Sugarquill. In my defence, I had a teacher who had a knack for making everything feel like an ad hominem attack)

- In language classes, it doesn't matter if what you say is true or not. The prof just wants to see if you've mastered the accusative case. (This occured to me today)

When I was a child, I was taught that you write out a rough draft with a pencil and paper, and then type it up when you're done.

Now, on those increasingly rare occasions where etiquette requires a hand-written letter, I type up a rough draft in Word, edit it until I'm satisfied, and then copy out the final version by hand.

In the interest of general public safety, OHIP should cover eye exams for all drivers who are required to wear corrective lenses as a condition of their licence.

For my own reference, the books whose reviews I lost in the whole mail-to-blog debacle:

The Pleasure of Eliza Lynch: Good concept, would have been much better if it had focused on Eliza Lynch instead of that doctor guy.

Muriella Pent: I'm not the target audience of this novel and am unfamiliar with the culture that it is satiring (can satire be used as a verb?)

The Lucky Ones: Excellent tying together of the various threads of the story, but I'm not the best audience for vast reflections on parenthood.

The Ultras: Meh.

The Collected Stories of Carol Shields: Some excellent short stories, but most are rather meh. Less humour or irony than I'm used to in short stories. The best one is Absence.

FYI: Eye exams are covered by OHIP until Nov. 1, not July 1 as originally planned.

I just had a really bizarre dream. It started at my Babcia's house, where some of my cousins and I were trying to get rid of an infestation of Creatures (these Creatures had a name that corresponded with the name of a real life animal that might infest a house, but I forget what the name was). Although all these Creatures were apparently of the same species, no two looked alike. Some were large white gelatinous blobs, and some where small insects in a ludicrious shade of purple. You got rid of them by sprinking confetti on them, which made them disappear.

Then I turned into Bucky Katt from Get Fuzzy. Because of something stupid Bucky/I had said (Bucky said it before I became him), I had to climb up on this huge arch made of scaffold (it resembled the arch on top of the Skyway Bridge, except the scaffolding went all the way down to the water below) and jump off into the water. So I climbed to the very top of the bridge, held on with my hands and hung down, then let go. I plunged straight down into the water. As I sank, I remembered that I should make the vertical "footprint" of my body wider, so as to slow the sinking, but I couldn't. I tried to swim upwards, but vaguely remembered that you might lose your sense of orientation when underwater and you should open your eyes and swim towards the light. Unfortunately, I've lost my ability to open my eyes underwater. I suddenly found myself having to breathe, but still underwater. Then I woke up.

When I woke up, I was filled with doubt about whether I can still swim at all. It has been year's since I've gone swimming, and even longer since I've swum properly instead of just splashing around in a pool. I have no idea if I'd drown or not if forced to jump into the water. I wonder if my building's pool is still open?

Sprechen Sie Deutschland?

At my previous job, I was once having a conversation in English with a francophone co-worker, and he mentioned something about "speaking Germany". I started laughing. Not at his mistake, but because I always do the same thing in French: I confuse the words "Allemand" (Germany) with "allemagne" (German). When I quickly reassured him that I wasn't laughing at him but at the apparent universality of this error, he just stared at me. "You mean there are two words?"

So the other day it occurred to me to Google the phrase "speak Germany" and see what came up. Turns out a lot of people seem to make that error. :)

If you arrived here at my blog trying to find a solution to this problem, Germany is the place, and German is the adjective and the language.

Pour les francophones, "Germany" est le pays, parce que l'on peut y aller.

If they put you under general anaesthetic, when you wake up do you feel like
you've slept?

A poll:

Suppose you were buying a new computer today. Would you get one with a floppy disk drive?

The problem
With the Bloor line platform
Of St. George station
Is that
There are no arrows
Pointing
In the direction
That the train is going.

Sometimes
One wants to know
Which way the train is going
So one can get on the front of the train
Or the back of the train
Or the second car in front of the DWA
Or whichever car is nearest
To the most convenient stairs
At one's destination station.

We cannot do this
Without arrows.

I think school is good for me. The whole "sitting through classes and doing homework" thing satisfies some Aspie need for order. Plus, forcibly delaying my arrival home for another two hours puts me at an optimal level of tiredness come bedtime.

Crazy poll of the moment:

How long has it been since you last vomited? I haven't vomited in 10
years. Can anyone beat that?

I had to make a personal phone call that I didn't want my co-workers to overhear. So before class, I went to the park part of Queen's Park, found an isolated bench, and made my call. Then I left Queen's Park promptly and went to class.

And my arms and legs are covered in bug bites! I was there for under 15 minutes! And, to add insult to injury, the party I called wasn't even there!

Attention prank phone call people: I don't know from personal experience, but I'm sure the people who are responsible for making arrangement for the delivery of porn don't refer to it as "porn" when talking to their customers. Especially when the supposed customer is male and the person who answers the phone is female. Get a plausible situation already!