I don't think fictionalized stories or documentaries about 9/11 belong on TV or in movies just yet. Why? Because, except for the people who were there in person, we all watched it live on TV as it was happening, and we all remember it distinctly. We don't need images edited by someone else to manipulate our take on the issue because we all experienced it our own way through images. It's recent enough that we remember the events, the images, our reactions all clearly, so we don't need to sit down with some popcorn and watch someone else's version like it's a movie.
Research on the story behind 9/11, it's background and causes? Perfectly appropriate. Individual stories of victims and survivors? Perfecctly appropriate. Incorporating the fact of 9/11 into contemporary fiction? Perfectly appropriate. Just not in a visual medium, not yet. Give us a book or an article or a website, present the story in text, and let us fill in the blanks with our own images and memories. I don't know about everyone else, but I'm not yet ready to let my own memories of the biggest historical event in my life so far be tainted by a director's vision and actors' faces.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Grammar Nazi
Randy Milholland's comments on the phrase "grammar nazi" (Note: two content warnings for this link can be found at the bottom of this entry***) have me thinking about the phrase's origins. I'm wondering if people independently decided to stick the word nazi on various things, or if the phrase originated from Seinfeld's Soup Nazi. Personally, it never occurred to me before the Soup Nazi concept had entered popular culture, but I was 14 when Soup Nazi first aired so my verbal repertoire wasn't quite complete. The phrase's presence in Seinfeld gave me the impression that it wasn't entirely unacceptable, although I have always tried to use judgement about whether or not to use it in a specific context and I'm not going to be a dick and insist that it's unoffensive to someone who does find it offensive. But at any rate, when I do use it, I'm not referring directly to nazis, I'm making a sort of pop-culture reference to Seinfeld. I wonder if this is the same for everyone who uses the phrase, or if older people are actually referring to nazis?
***Warning 1: the kid's language can get offensive, although there's minimal (but not zero) offence in this strip. In the strip as a whole he is not intended to be a sympathetic character and his language is not presented as appropriate, although you can't glean this from this one strip. I don't much like this language, but he's the only character who's in school, so the author had to use him to make this point, and had to keep his character consistent.
Warning 2: This specific strip is clean and the ads I see right this moment are clean, but SP has been known to have ads that are borderline-NSFW. Not X-rated or anything, but not something I'd like my boss to walk by and see on my screen.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Another thought I wish I'd been able to articulate 10 years ago
There's no real point or interest or practical application to this post, I just thought of another one of those things that I wish I'd been able to articulate 10 years ago, so I'm writing it down before I forget.
I had a lot of pressure when I was a teenager to go to science or engineering or computers, because it was fashionable at the time to "encourage" women to go into those fields. However, at 16 I came to the realization that I am very well-suited to translation. This led to a redoubled effort on the part of certain parties to convince me that yes, I really could be an engineer. Their primary supporting argument was that I was good at math/science/computers.
The point is not whether or not I was good at math/science/computers. My marks were certainly respectable - with the exception of OAC chemistry (my lowest OAC mark (of 12) at like 76%) I got in the 80s without significant effort and in the 90s if I put some work into it.
No, the main point was that I was (and may still be) exceptionally good at languages.
In my maths and sciences, I was in the top 15 in the school (population 800ish over 5 grades), maybe in the top 10, and there was tight competition for the top spots. But in languages, I was consistently, every year, the top student. There was no jockeying for the position, no heated competition with my fellow langlings. I walked in, did my work, did the mandated amount of homework (but made no exceptional effort), and walked out at the top of my class.
I had this exceptional talent, I'd found something relevant to it that I wanted to study, and translation struck me as "Yes! I could do that!" as no other career path had before. (Every other career path I'd considered, I would have had to blindly trust that my education would make me able to do it. Translation I just knew I could do it, and it turned out that I was right.) I wasn't lacking any confidence in my abilities in male-dominated subjects, I had just pragmatically realized that I was better in other subjects, which happened to be female-dominated. I didn't need to be reassured that I was good enough at the male-dominated subjects, I already knew that I was good enough. But I also knew that I was far, far, far, better than "good enough" in languages.
Now that I've gloated enough about my nascent adolescent langling skills, so let's fast-forward a bit and see what happens to the top student in high school.
In university, I made great effort in the classes that deserved it, and slacked off in the classes that didn't. I ended up being second in my small (under 20 people) class of translation students. Perhaps, with more effort in the classes I slacked off in, I could have beaten out the guy who came in first, perhaps not, but I can't think of anyone I'd rather lose out to. At any rate, we both came out with the same job offer, but only the two of us got that specific job offer. As of graduation day, we were the only two in the class with jobs in the field. So the top student in high school becomes, from one perspective, the #2 student in university, but, from another perspective, the lowest-ranked student to still be recruited right out of university. Whoever was #3 was not offered a job.
Now, with that job and a few years' experience, I am generally holding my own among my co-workers, all of whom have more experience than me (their "more experience" ranging from a year more to a lifetime more). I am in no way exceptional, it's quite possible that I might be the worst in the office (which would only be fair, since I am the newest and the youngest), but I am generally competent, doing what's expected of me, producing adequate work. So #1 in high school is downgraded to "adequate and competent, but unexceptional, and with maybe one or two areas for improvement" in the workplace.
This makes me wonder what would have happened if I had gone into math/science/engineering, like I was being pressured to. Instead of being #1 going in, I was maybe #12. So how much footing would I have lost through university? How much additional work would I have had to put in to get by? Would my internships have resulted in an employer who wanted to hire me, or an employer who wanted to avoid me? Would I even have qualified for internships at all? Did the people, especially the teachers, who were pressuring me to choose a male-dominated career path even think of this?
I had a lot of pressure when I was a teenager to go to science or engineering or computers, because it was fashionable at the time to "encourage" women to go into those fields. However, at 16 I came to the realization that I am very well-suited to translation. This led to a redoubled effort on the part of certain parties to convince me that yes, I really could be an engineer. Their primary supporting argument was that I was good at math/science/computers.
The point is not whether or not I was good at math/science/computers. My marks were certainly respectable - with the exception of OAC chemistry (my lowest OAC mark (of 12) at like 76%) I got in the 80s without significant effort and in the 90s if I put some work into it.
No, the main point was that I was (and may still be) exceptionally good at languages.
In my maths and sciences, I was in the top 15 in the school (population 800ish over 5 grades), maybe in the top 10, and there was tight competition for the top spots. But in languages, I was consistently, every year, the top student. There was no jockeying for the position, no heated competition with my fellow langlings. I walked in, did my work, did the mandated amount of homework (but made no exceptional effort), and walked out at the top of my class.
I had this exceptional talent, I'd found something relevant to it that I wanted to study, and translation struck me as "Yes! I could do that!" as no other career path had before. (Every other career path I'd considered, I would have had to blindly trust that my education would make me able to do it. Translation I just knew I could do it, and it turned out that I was right.) I wasn't lacking any confidence in my abilities in male-dominated subjects, I had just pragmatically realized that I was better in other subjects, which happened to be female-dominated. I didn't need to be reassured that I was good enough at the male-dominated subjects, I already knew that I was good enough. But I also knew that I was far, far, far, better than "good enough" in languages.
Now that I've gloated enough about my nascent adolescent langling skills, so let's fast-forward a bit and see what happens to the top student in high school.
In university, I made great effort in the classes that deserved it, and slacked off in the classes that didn't. I ended up being second in my small (under 20 people) class of translation students. Perhaps, with more effort in the classes I slacked off in, I could have beaten out the guy who came in first, perhaps not, but I can't think of anyone I'd rather lose out to. At any rate, we both came out with the same job offer, but only the two of us got that specific job offer. As of graduation day, we were the only two in the class with jobs in the field. So the top student in high school becomes, from one perspective, the #2 student in university, but, from another perspective, the lowest-ranked student to still be recruited right out of university. Whoever was #3 was not offered a job.
Now, with that job and a few years' experience, I am generally holding my own among my co-workers, all of whom have more experience than me (their "more experience" ranging from a year more to a lifetime more). I am in no way exceptional, it's quite possible that I might be the worst in the office (which would only be fair, since I am the newest and the youngest), but I am generally competent, doing what's expected of me, producing adequate work. So #1 in high school is downgraded to "adequate and competent, but unexceptional, and with maybe one or two areas for improvement" in the workplace.
This makes me wonder what would have happened if I had gone into math/science/engineering, like I was being pressured to. Instead of being #1 going in, I was maybe #12. So how much footing would I have lost through university? How much additional work would I have had to put in to get by? Would my internships have resulted in an employer who wanted to hire me, or an employer who wanted to avoid me? Would I even have qualified for internships at all? Did the people, especially the teachers, who were pressuring me to choose a male-dominated career path even think of this?
Bad telemarketing
We all know that voicemail spam is trying harder and harder to sound like a real message. Today I got one that started with "Oh, um, hi...I got your number from a friend of yours..." and went on to tell me about a dating service.
Now, if I had fallen for their little conceit and believed for a moment that this was a real phone call from someone who had gotten my number from a friend of mine, my friends would have hell to pay! After all, I would be unspeakably offended that one of my friends would presume to set me up with a dating service when they know full well that I'm in love with mi cielito!
So either the telemarketer distributed this message knowing full well that people wouldn't actually fall for the conceit, or they think people would fall for the conceit but don't care if people outside their target audience get pissed off at their friends for something the friends didn't actually do.
Now, if I had fallen for their little conceit and believed for a moment that this was a real phone call from someone who had gotten my number from a friend of mine, my friends would have hell to pay! After all, I would be unspeakably offended that one of my friends would presume to set me up with a dating service when they know full well that I'm in love with mi cielito!
So either the telemarketer distributed this message knowing full well that people wouldn't actually fall for the conceit, or they think people would fall for the conceit but don't care if people outside their target audience get pissed off at their friends for something the friends didn't actually do.
Here I sit in the land of plenty crying about my own virginity
Virginity is a weird concept. I find it utterly bizarre that the concept exists. Essentially, the state of not having gotten around to doing something gets its own word. Usually, a concept only gets its own word when it means deliberate abstention - and we already have a word for deliberately abstaining from sex: chastity. If you look at the range of meaning that is encompassed by "virginity" but outside the range "chastity," it is populated mostly by people who haven't had an appropriate opportunity yet - they haven't been able to get a suitable partner into a suitable situation.
I don't think there's any other concept like this in the English language. Whenever the absence of an action gets a label, it's because of a deliberate decision. I don't think there are any other labels that mean "I haven't had a chance yet."
If you don't drink as a matter of principle, you're a teetotaller. If you have nothing against drinking but it's just that no one has offered you any wine yet, there's no label for that.
If you don't eat meat, you're vegetarian. If you just don't have access to meat...well, you're probably poor or sheltered, but those concepts have nothing to do with meat per se.
If you deliberately choose to remain faithful to one partner, you're monogamous. If you have no particular loyalty to your lover but no other opportunities have come along, there's no word for that.
If you don't eat pork because you're Jewish, you're Kosher. If you don't have any pork, you don't have any pork.
If you've never ballroom danced or been to Venice or tried caviar, you don't get a special word for that. But if you've never had sex, you're a virgin. That's very odd.
I wonder how it would affect our society if virginity wasn't its own concept?
I don't think there's any other concept like this in the English language. Whenever the absence of an action gets a label, it's because of a deliberate decision. I don't think there are any other labels that mean "I haven't had a chance yet."
If you don't drink as a matter of principle, you're a teetotaller. If you have nothing against drinking but it's just that no one has offered you any wine yet, there's no label for that.
If you don't eat meat, you're vegetarian. If you just don't have access to meat...well, you're probably poor or sheltered, but those concepts have nothing to do with meat per se.
If you deliberately choose to remain faithful to one partner, you're monogamous. If you have no particular loyalty to your lover but no other opportunities have come along, there's no word for that.
If you don't eat pork because you're Jewish, you're Kosher. If you don't have any pork, you don't have any pork.
If you've never ballroom danced or been to Venice or tried caviar, you don't get a special word for that. But if you've never had sex, you're a virgin. That's very odd.
I wonder how it would affect our society if virginity wasn't its own concept?
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
On not going back
This is my fourth year of not going back to school, but it's the first time I've been actively glad that I'm not going back to school. Previous years I felt a bit lost at not having a new schedule and new books and a fresh start, but this year I'm just glad. I don't have to be nervous, I don't have to fret about whether I'll have any friends in my classes, I don't have to worry about what to wear. I just have to deal with the same co-workers (who are awesome, by the way), same clients, same work, same schedule. No presssure, just ordinary everyday life (which, conveniently, happens to be perfectly respectable and allow me to support myself.)
In other news, here's a yellow puppy with floppy ears.
In other news, here's a yellow puppy with floppy ears.
St00pid alarm clock
Last night, my first novel came to me in a dream. I've never before seriously considered writing a novel, but it all came to me last night. There were these two characters, based loosely on two people I once knew (not too well, but I shared a classroom with each of them at different times), and they had to make a life together due to extenuating circumstances. Sounds like your standard odd couple story, and maybe it is. But what was exceptional (for me) is that I knew everything about these characters. All the fussy little things that authors always know and I never do. I knew their histories and family backgrounds, what they ate for breakfast, their pet peeves, their respective feelings about the situation they were placed in and their respective (and sometimes incompatible) coping mechanisms. I knew everything about these characters! This has never happened before!
Then my alarm went off and woke me up, and I found myself unable to remember my characters, only able to remember the real-life people on whom they were based.
St00pid mornings!
Then my alarm went off and woke me up, and I found myself unable to remember my characters, only able to remember the real-life people on whom they were based.
St00pid mornings!
Monday, September 04, 2006
Things They Should Invent: bra-length camisole
Currently, it is socially and sartorially acceptable to wear an exposed camisole under a low-necked top. (Future generations, or even I myself in five or ten years, may laugh at this, but it is what we have to work with at the moment.) If the top of the camisole shows, even if it is a wee bit lacy in an aesthetic allusion to lingerie, the area under the camisole is still considered to be "covered" for modesty purposes.
However, one disadvantage to camisoles is they are long - they cover the entire torso. This can be problematic if, due to environmental or aesthetic considerations, the wearer simply doesn't want two layers.
If you don't want two layers, you'd think a bra would serve the purpose of providing additional coverage, but for reasons that are inarticulable yet unanimously agreed-upon, exposed bra cups are trashy and/or slutty.
So what we need is a garment that looks like a camisole, perhaps by not having two distinct cups, but only goes as far down as the bra elastic. Perhaps it could even fulfill a support function, so the wearer doesn't have to wear a bra AND a demi-cami. I have seen the odd bra like that, but we really do need more that are designed in a way that is acceptable to expose
However, one disadvantage to camisoles is they are long - they cover the entire torso. This can be problematic if, due to environmental or aesthetic considerations, the wearer simply doesn't want two layers.
If you don't want two layers, you'd think a bra would serve the purpose of providing additional coverage, but for reasons that are inarticulable yet unanimously agreed-upon, exposed bra cups are trashy and/or slutty.
So what we need is a garment that looks like a camisole, perhaps by not having two distinct cups, but only goes as far down as the bra elastic. Perhaps it could even fulfill a support function, so the wearer doesn't have to wear a bra AND a demi-cami. I have seen the odd bra like that, but we really do need more that are designed in a way that is acceptable to expose
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Am I supposed to meddle with homeless people? If so, how?
Walking home from the grocery store today, I saw a (presumably) homeless guy lying on the sidewalk. This was unusual because it's raining, and he was lying in a completely unsheltered area, despite the fact that there's a great big overhang on the building across the street. He was moving enough that I could tell he was alive and didn't appear to have any physical injuries, but clearly something was wrong - if he'd been in his right mind, he'd at least be across the street under the overhang.
What I'm not clear on is what I'm supposed to do. I wasn't going to approach him directly myself, because I'm a weak young woman walking around by myself (and there were fewer people in the vincinity than usual because it's raining) and he's a big, strong-looking man who's clearly not in his right mind. If he had been a clean-cut man in an Armani suit exhibiting the same behaviour, I would not have approached him directly either (although, I'll admit, I might be more likely to call 911.)
But is there someone I should call? I don't think it was a 911 emergency because he was alive and conscious and uninjured, he was just lying on the sidewalk in the rain. I don't think it was a police issue, because he wasn't doing anything illegal or threatening anyone, he was just lying on the sidewalk in the rain. I know there's a number you're supposed to call when you find homeless people during a cold alert, but is there someone you're supposed to call when you find a homeless person behaving unusually by area homeless standards during a non-emergency situation?
If he had been lying under an overhang or in tunnel, I would have just left him to his nap. If he had been lying on the sidewalk out in the open during more pleasant weather, I would have thought "Huh, that's unusual," but left him to his own devices once it was clear that he did not require medical attention. If I had found him there at night, I might have assumed that he was just sleeping for the night. But flat on his back, midafternoon, raining and not under an overhang, all makes me think there was something wrong. Thing is, I have no idea what I was supposed to do about it...
What I'm not clear on is what I'm supposed to do. I wasn't going to approach him directly myself, because I'm a weak young woman walking around by myself (and there were fewer people in the vincinity than usual because it's raining) and he's a big, strong-looking man who's clearly not in his right mind. If he had been a clean-cut man in an Armani suit exhibiting the same behaviour, I would not have approached him directly either (although, I'll admit, I might be more likely to call 911.)
But is there someone I should call? I don't think it was a 911 emergency because he was alive and conscious and uninjured, he was just lying on the sidewalk in the rain. I don't think it was a police issue, because he wasn't doing anything illegal or threatening anyone, he was just lying on the sidewalk in the rain. I know there's a number you're supposed to call when you find homeless people during a cold alert, but is there someone you're supposed to call when you find a homeless person behaving unusually by area homeless standards during a non-emergency situation?
If he had been lying under an overhang or in tunnel, I would have just left him to his nap. If he had been lying on the sidewalk out in the open during more pleasant weather, I would have thought "Huh, that's unusual," but left him to his own devices once it was clear that he did not require medical attention. If I had found him there at night, I might have assumed that he was just sleeping for the night. But flat on his back, midafternoon, raining and not under an overhang, all makes me think there was something wrong. Thing is, I have no idea what I was supposed to do about it...
Being a grownup
I found this story while googling for something unrelated.
The first part (until it gets into knitting) is presented by the author as a story of why she hates being a grownup. However, for me, that story epitomizes why I love being a grownup. To wit:
- I never have to go camping! At all! Ever!
- I don't have to go on long ridiculous bike rides! I can take a train or a cab or stay home instead!
- If I do decide to go on a long ridiculous bike ride, I can stop the moment I get tired rather than having to stick to someone else's schedule.
- If my plans suddenly become too unpleasant due to rain or scary cobweb-like phenomena, I can call a cab and tell them to take me to the nearest hotel rather than being completely dependent on someone else who has all the money and therefore gets to make all the decisions.
- My parents are no longer operating under the assumption that I'm living in luxury or comfort just because I'm not doing the more difficult or unpleasant chores of everyday life that I couldn't do anyway because I'm just a kid. Or if they are thinking this way, they have the good sense to keep it to themselves in light of the fact that I am working and paying all my own bills and maintaining my own household.
Today it is raining, so I slept a ridiculously long time this morning and enjoyed quite a few sexy dreams. The I woke up, had a nice long shower in which I shampooed and conditioned and soaped and moisturized and exfoliated using the army of bottles that I get to keep around the edge of the bathtub at all times, and put on my bathrobe and made a cup of coffee, which I'm sipping on now as I type this.
If I were a kid today, I would have had to get up early to be dragged along on my parents' shopping expedition. I would have spent the morning fighting off carsickness and my sister, then standing around bored in stores that don't sell anything interesting and I wouldn't get to buy anything even if they did. Then when I got home I'd have time to do my chores and homework, but not to relax or enjoy a computer game or a TV show (or, if I did have time, someone else would more than likely be using the computer or the TV.)
Essentially, the joy of being a grownup is that your life doesn't just get arbitrarily hijacked whenever your parents get the idea of doing something.
The first part (until it gets into knitting) is presented by the author as a story of why she hates being a grownup. However, for me, that story epitomizes why I love being a grownup. To wit:
- I never have to go camping! At all! Ever!
- I don't have to go on long ridiculous bike rides! I can take a train or a cab or stay home instead!
- If I do decide to go on a long ridiculous bike ride, I can stop the moment I get tired rather than having to stick to someone else's schedule.
- If my plans suddenly become too unpleasant due to rain or scary cobweb-like phenomena, I can call a cab and tell them to take me to the nearest hotel rather than being completely dependent on someone else who has all the money and therefore gets to make all the decisions.
- My parents are no longer operating under the assumption that I'm living in luxury or comfort just because I'm not doing the more difficult or unpleasant chores of everyday life that I couldn't do anyway because I'm just a kid. Or if they are thinking this way, they have the good sense to keep it to themselves in light of the fact that I am working and paying all my own bills and maintaining my own household.
Today it is raining, so I slept a ridiculously long time this morning and enjoyed quite a few sexy dreams. The I woke up, had a nice long shower in which I shampooed and conditioned and soaped and moisturized and exfoliated using the army of bottles that I get to keep around the edge of the bathtub at all times, and put on my bathrobe and made a cup of coffee, which I'm sipping on now as I type this.
If I were a kid today, I would have had to get up early to be dragged along on my parents' shopping expedition. I would have spent the morning fighting off carsickness and my sister, then standing around bored in stores that don't sell anything interesting and I wouldn't get to buy anything even if they did. Then when I got home I'd have time to do my chores and homework, but not to relax or enjoy a computer game or a TV show (or, if I did have time, someone else would more than likely be using the computer or the TV.)
Essentially, the joy of being a grownup is that your life doesn't just get arbitrarily hijacked whenever your parents get the idea of doing something.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Spamalot!
I was expecting it to be fair to middling, to be perfectly honest. I didn't see how something as indie as Holy Grail (I know it's mainstream now, but it was indie when they first made it!) could translate into a major musical. I figured it would hit all the plot points and in-jokes, throw in a few musical numbers, and we'd have a perfectly adequate night's entertainment and some nice royalties for the Python chaps. I was indifferent myself, but some of my friends wanted to go, and I am the resident Torontoise Python fan, so off we went.
Turns out I was way wrong - it was hilarious! It's very tightly packed, with something laugh-out-loud funny happening on stage like every 10 seconds or so. My friend who had never seen Holy Grail (!) was laughing constantly throughout! The delivery and timing were flawless, but not so flawless that it sounded like Python fans quoting the whole thing. The actors alluded to the voices of the original Pythons in their delivery, but again it didn't sound like fan imitation. Plus there were frequently little things thrown in - a gesture or a sound effect or a prop (HAY!) that added an extra layer of humour to the scene without breaking stride, and often took us two beats to realize it was there.
The stagecraft was also very good. Stagecraft was something they could quite easily have phoned in, but in several places we found ourselves remarking "Ooh, that's clever!", and in a few others we found ourselves wondering how exactly they did what they just did. (Hint: the Black Knight scene is there, intact. I could guess at how it was done, but I could well be wrong.)
There were only two things I didn't like. One was the inclusion of Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, which doesn't belong in Holy Grail, it belongs in Life of Brian! The other is the fact that the female cast members never got to do anything funny! Their roles were decorative or functional, but never humourous. I realize the original is essentially an all-male cast, but in a big complex musical number with lots of things going on, you'd think that at least once or twice one of the girls could have gotten to do something funny.
It certainly isn't Holy Grail. It's missing some key scenes, namely the witch and the bridge, and it's about half Holy Grail and half parody of musical theatre. However, it is also the most I have laughed in a two-hour period in recent memory, and I would see it again tomorrow if someone gave me a ticket, especially if the seat number ended in 101.
Turns out I was way wrong - it was hilarious! It's very tightly packed, with something laugh-out-loud funny happening on stage like every 10 seconds or so. My friend who had never seen Holy Grail (!) was laughing constantly throughout! The delivery and timing were flawless, but not so flawless that it sounded like Python fans quoting the whole thing. The actors alluded to the voices of the original Pythons in their delivery, but again it didn't sound like fan imitation. Plus there were frequently little things thrown in - a gesture or a sound effect or a prop (HAY!) that added an extra layer of humour to the scene without breaking stride, and often took us two beats to realize it was there.
The stagecraft was also very good. Stagecraft was something they could quite easily have phoned in, but in several places we found ourselves remarking "Ooh, that's clever!", and in a few others we found ourselves wondering how exactly they did what they just did. (Hint: the Black Knight scene is there, intact. I could guess at how it was done, but I could well be wrong.)
There were only two things I didn't like. One was the inclusion of Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, which doesn't belong in Holy Grail, it belongs in Life of Brian! The other is the fact that the female cast members never got to do anything funny! Their roles were decorative or functional, but never humourous. I realize the original is essentially an all-male cast, but in a big complex musical number with lots of things going on, you'd think that at least once or twice one of the girls could have gotten to do something funny.
It certainly isn't Holy Grail. It's missing some key scenes, namely the witch and the bridge, and it's about half Holy Grail and half parody of musical theatre. However, it is also the most I have laughed in a two-hour period in recent memory, and I would see it again tomorrow if someone gave me a ticket, especially if the seat number ended in 101.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Overtime
The problem with overtime is that you have to work regular time too. Twelve straight hours of work on any given day isn't that big a deal, but it's a much bigger deal when you still are expected to come into the office early the next morning. I could do a 17 hour day if I could add one more additional day off to my long weekend in exchange, but I can't. (Yes, my employer does allow me to be compensated for my overtime in leave, but all leave is subject to operational requirements and the project requiring overtime is only one of the many things I'm working on so I can't just take a day off right now.)
Monday, August 28, 2006
What do I do now?
Telephone: RING RING RING
Receptionist: Doctor's office
Me: Hi, I'm interested in getting the cervical cancer vaccine. I was wondering if you're doing that yet?
R: The what?
Me: The cervical cancer vaccine?
R: ...
Me: HPV vaccine?
R: ...
Me: Gardasil? It was approved by Health Canada several weeks ago and it was all over the news, and they said it would be available near the end of August and you should ask your doctor?
R: I'm sorry, I haven't heard of anything like that
Me: Ummm...okay...so do you have any idea when would be a reasonable timeframe for me to call back again and see if you have it yet?
R: I have no idea, sorry
SO WHAT DO I DO NOW???? I was totally unprepared for this! I was all prepared to be all proactive, and ask whether there's any testing required before you get the vaccine, and if so whether an internal examination is involved so I can schedule it around my period, and to find out before hand if I need to get the vaccine from the pharmacy myself so I could be a good patient and walk in there all prepared, but what do I do when the receptionist has never heard of it? Does this mean the receptionist is exceptionally ignorant, or does this mean the doctor has never heard of it either? How can I trust these people to manage my health care when they haven't heard of something that is all over the news and I need to get on a somewhat time-sensitive basis? And how can I manage my own health care when any attempt to be proactive gets derailed at the first moment of ignorance?
I have been told that I should call back and insist that she either let me speak with the doctor or speak with the doctor herself and find out for me, but how on earth do I do that politely? I did give my name the first time I called because I thought that was the correct thing to do (it isn't in my little script because I don't want to put it in my blog). So how do I call back and say "Hi, it's me again! I'm right, you're wrong, and I want to go over your head until someone agrees with me!"
Receptionist: Doctor's office
Me: Hi, I'm interested in getting the cervical cancer vaccine. I was wondering if you're doing that yet?
R: The what?
Me: The cervical cancer vaccine?
R: ...
Me: HPV vaccine?
R: ...
Me: Gardasil? It was approved by Health Canada several weeks ago and it was all over the news, and they said it would be available near the end of August and you should ask your doctor?
R: I'm sorry, I haven't heard of anything like that
Me: Ummm...okay...so do you have any idea when would be a reasonable timeframe for me to call back again and see if you have it yet?
R: I have no idea, sorry
SO WHAT DO I DO NOW???? I was totally unprepared for this! I was all prepared to be all proactive, and ask whether there's any testing required before you get the vaccine, and if so whether an internal examination is involved so I can schedule it around my period, and to find out before hand if I need to get the vaccine from the pharmacy myself so I could be a good patient and walk in there all prepared, but what do I do when the receptionist has never heard of it? Does this mean the receptionist is exceptionally ignorant, or does this mean the doctor has never heard of it either? How can I trust these people to manage my health care when they haven't heard of something that is all over the news and I need to get on a somewhat time-sensitive basis? And how can I manage my own health care when any attempt to be proactive gets derailed at the first moment of ignorance?
I have been told that I should call back and insist that she either let me speak with the doctor or speak with the doctor herself and find out for me, but how on earth do I do that politely? I did give my name the first time I called because I thought that was the correct thing to do (it isn't in my little script because I don't want to put it in my blog). So how do I call back and say "Hi, it's me again! I'm right, you're wrong, and I want to go over your head until someone agrees with me!"
I am afraid of bugs, I am afraid of bugs, I am I am I am!
Somewhere out there, the great arachnoid conspiracy found my comments about Shelob and felt the need to reassert itself as a force for terror. So today when I got to work, there was a dead you-know-what on my mousepad. Unfortunately, I don't inspect my mousepad every morning (I will from now on!), and I TOUCHED IT WITH MY HAND! My boss found me whimpering with a giant handful of paper towels, trying to summon up the courage to dispose of the corpse, and was kind enough to do it for me. So I've been jumpy and edgy all day now.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Big Questions arising from a repeat viewing of Attack of the Clones
Why would little Anakin Skywalker program a droid for etiquette of all things?
I think I just saw Shelob
I saw an ad for a LOTR disc set, and I think I had a brief glimpse of Shelob. I've been deliberately avoiding even a glance because even the scene in the book freaked me out to the extent that I had to skip to the end of the chapter. But in this brief on-screen glance wasn't as bad as I expected. I certainly could not watch the whole scene, but I saw it for a second - enough to tell me that I had to look away - without any panic symptoms (this is coming from a 100% panic-free state) and only the slightest twinge of nausea. I think it's because it looked very computer-generated. Apart from the shape, something that looked like that would never be crawling across my ceiling in miniature. It was like those arachoid robot thingies in Star Wars - not pleasant, but a glance isn't going to give me extensive nightmares. Good to know. (Of course, the possibility exists that I'm a touch more placid than usual because I've had two glasses of wine today.)
The definitive Python
Everyone knows about singing lumberjacks and dead parrots and knights who say NI and spam. In fact, all these things have gotten so tired and cliche cliche that people who aren't familiar with Monty Python are likely to think it's not that funny, that it's just a bunch of people shouting NI and SPAM and EX-PARROT at each other.
So here, thanks to the magic of YouTube, is a small collection of representative Python sketches for those who aren't very familiar with Python, but think that SPAM SPAM SPAM just isn't that funny any more.
Ministry of Silly Walks
Spanish Inquisition
Four Yorkshiremen
Nudge Nudge (note: this one actually has a punchline)
Self-Defence against Fresh Fruit
Penguin on the Television
Buying a Bed
Dirty Fork
Every Sperm is Sacred
Romans Go Home!
Election Night
Argument Clinic
And, because it was voted their all-time favourite by the Pythons themselves, the Fish-Slapping Dance!
Have I missed any? Feel free to add your own in the comments!
So here, thanks to the magic of YouTube, is a small collection of representative Python sketches for those who aren't very familiar with Python, but think that SPAM SPAM SPAM just isn't that funny any more.
Ministry of Silly Walks
Spanish Inquisition
Four Yorkshiremen
Nudge Nudge (note: this one actually has a punchline)
Self-Defence against Fresh Fruit
Penguin on the Television
Buying a Bed
Dirty Fork
Every Sperm is Sacred
Romans Go Home!
Election Night
Argument Clinic
And, because it was voted their all-time favourite by the Pythons themselves, the Fish-Slapping Dance!
Have I missed any? Feel free to add your own in the comments!
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Things They Should Invent: more precise TV content warnings
When I'm watching TV, I sometimes get these warnings: "The following program contains mature subject matter. Viewer discretion is advised."
But they refer to the whole program. When it's on commercial television, the program is divided up into segments by commercial breaks. So why not give warnings just if the next segment contains mature subject matter? (Oh yeah, and also standardize segment length.) The movie I'm watching right now (which is such a bad movie that I don't want to admit what it is) contains mature subject matter in places, but also contains some very decent comic scenes that I would have no problem with showing to any school-aged child*. If they gave me warning for specific segments, (and I were in charge of children), I could turn off the TV just for X minutes for the inappropriate segments, and still let these children I'm mysteriously in charge of watch the funny bits.
*Note: the possibility exists that these aren't, in fact, appropriate for children and this is all just another sign of why I shouldn't be in charge of children
But they refer to the whole program. When it's on commercial television, the program is divided up into segments by commercial breaks. So why not give warnings just if the next segment contains mature subject matter? (Oh yeah, and also standardize segment length.) The movie I'm watching right now (which is such a bad movie that I don't want to admit what it is) contains mature subject matter in places, but also contains some very decent comic scenes that I would have no problem with showing to any school-aged child*. If they gave me warning for specific segments, (and I were in charge of children), I could turn off the TV just for X minutes for the inappropriate segments, and still let these children I'm mysteriously in charge of watch the funny bits.
*Note: the possibility exists that these aren't, in fact, appropriate for children and this is all just another sign of why I shouldn't be in charge of children
Weird science
There was recently a story all over the news that couples who are more attractive are more likely to have daughters than sons, because it is evolutionarily more beneficial for women to be attractive, and therefore women are getting more beautiful over time.
There's a flaw in that theory:
With the exception of some esoteric cloning science that isn't yet being used on humans, every woman who is born has a mother and a father. Women, and therefore mothers, are getting more beautiful, but the study says nothing about men, so we must assume that they stay the same.
The conception process does nothing to ensure that the baby will receive the most attractive of its parents' genes. The baby receives a random sampling. There is nothing to make the baby receive the best of the available genes. (I'm proof of that! Except for my eye colour, I'm the worst of both worlds.) So even if the parents are attractive, the babies are just as likely to inherit unattractive characteristics from their fathers (who are not growing more attractive) or their less-attractive ancestors.
There's a flaw in that theory:
With the exception of some esoteric cloning science that isn't yet being used on humans, every woman who is born has a mother and a father. Women, and therefore mothers, are getting more beautiful, but the study says nothing about men, so we must assume that they stay the same.
The conception process does nothing to ensure that the baby will receive the most attractive of its parents' genes. The baby receives a random sampling. There is nothing to make the baby receive the best of the available genes. (I'm proof of that! Except for my eye colour, I'm the worst of both worlds.) So even if the parents are attractive, the babies are just as likely to inherit unattractive characteristics from their fathers (who are not growing more attractive) or their less-attractive ancestors.
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