So consider it updated, with this picture:
Jul 29, 2008
Jan 31, 2008
Placeholder
I don't have anything terribly interesting to blog about, but it's been a little while. So here's some pictures for your consideration:
Jan 24, 2008
Addendum to Your Inner Teenager
A quick update regarding nostalgia and its effects on quality:
One thing that I'm amazed by is the fact that Disney cartoons are amazingly consistent in this regard. Say what you want about Disney's efforts during certain eras of cartoonery, but each of their full-length cartoons is as good now as it ever was, with very little degradation resulting from adult hindsight. This is amazing when you consider how many films are in the Disney animated stable.
Of course the same holds true for the studio's more mediocre efforts -- Pocahontas, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and Oliver and Company will always be the weak sisters of Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin. And the live action Disney films are all over the place; they don't seem to carry whatever Disney magic provides immunity to the animated fare.
Of course some adults may not want to let others know that they still watch Treasure Planet a few times a year. But social embarrassment is obviously not the same thing as personal opinions of quality. And, you know, that's just one more great thing about having kids. Chances are favorite movies from your own childhood will pop up pretty regularly, without you having to suggest it.
One more thing to note -- so far, Disney's genius offspring, Pixar, has yet to make a single misstep. Sure, Cars and A Bug's Life may not be the same caliber as Finding Nemo or Toy Story, but they're all damn good movies. Pixar studios started with Disney, then split, and now have come back under the umbrella, but all that moving around hasn't changed the high quality of their story-telling or animation. So far it looks like the magic's rubbed off on them, too.
One thing that I'm amazed by is the fact that Disney cartoons are amazingly consistent in this regard. Say what you want about Disney's efforts during certain eras of cartoonery, but each of their full-length cartoons is as good now as it ever was, with very little degradation resulting from adult hindsight. This is amazing when you consider how many films are in the Disney animated stable.
Of course the same holds true for the studio's more mediocre efforts -- Pocahontas, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and Oliver and Company will always be the weak sisters of Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin. And the live action Disney films are all over the place; they don't seem to carry whatever Disney magic provides immunity to the animated fare.
Of course some adults may not want to let others know that they still watch Treasure Planet a few times a year. But social embarrassment is obviously not the same thing as personal opinions of quality. And, you know, that's just one more great thing about having kids. Chances are favorite movies from your own childhood will pop up pretty regularly, without you having to suggest it.
One more thing to note -- so far, Disney's genius offspring, Pixar, has yet to make a single misstep. Sure, Cars and A Bug's Life may not be the same caliber as Finding Nemo or Toy Story, but they're all damn good movies. Pixar studios started with Disney, then split, and now have come back under the umbrella, but all that moving around hasn't changed the high quality of their story-telling or animation. So far it looks like the magic's rubbed off on them, too.
Jan 22, 2008
Someone in the Editing Department Wasn't Paying Attention
You know those catalogs you get in the mail around the holidays? They have names like "Collections and Such", and "What the Heck?" and "All Things Cheap and Resin". They offer homey knickknacks, personalized T-shirts with cliche slogans, specially-themed Monopoly games and Christmas ornaments, and just about anything else you can think of that can be made in China for less than $0.15 and sold to middle-aged women trying to find "good gifts" for their daughters-in-law.
We get these catalogs in our mailbox pretty regularly, and to be fair, there's occasionally a good deal or two on something worth having. But this is not one of those things:
I don't know what they called it, but I call it "Bad Indians". And I bet it got someone in trouble.
We get these catalogs in our mailbox pretty regularly, and to be fair, there's occasionally a good deal or two on something worth having. But this is not one of those things:
I don't know what they called it, but I call it "Bad Indians". And I bet it got someone in trouble.
Jan 21, 2008
Your Inner Teenager
Sometimes people talk about getting in touch with their "inner child". The rest of us scorn those people, and for good reason.
But even those fruit loops never talk about getting in touch with your inner teenager. I never really thought about it before, but you have to wonder why not. Is it because, as adults, some of us still act or think like we did at that age? Are so many of us still alternately naive and too knowing, arrogant and extremely insecure, selfish and generous? Maybe.
And its true that many people do want to return to what they imagined their teenage years to be. But those people are delusional.
The rest of us, upon reflection, remember thinking things were cool when they so obviously aren't, and weren't. Of doing things that were not just incredibly stupid, but unfulfilling and unrewarding even at the time. Of liking things that, upon coming back to them in our adult years, are not anywhere near as likable as we remember. It's something I call the "False Nostalgia Effect", as opposed to the regular "Nostalgia Effect".
I think we are all familiar with both these conditions: the latter is where we continue to fondly remember things that are basically good, but for which there's no reason other than nostalgia to like them now as much as we do. Whereas the former is when we look forward to revisiting something we were fond of, only to experience it again and wonder what the hell we were thinking.
Many things I go back to years later obviously fit in one category or the other. I find new good in a thing I didn't see before, and while I may not enjoy it in the same way, I enjoy it just as much. Or I clearly see through the false veneer of whatever attracted me to a thing in the first place, and cast it off, perhaps dejectedly, as something no longer to be admired or enjoyed. This can't be done without leaving at least a little hole in the heart, but the sheer obnoxious wrongness of the thing helps you to cope.
Sometimes though, things fall into a weird middle category. There's at least a glimmer left of what attracted you in the first place, but your "good taste" vision has become sharper over the years, and the rough edges of the thing have come into sharp focus. No longer can the thing be simply enjoyed, even in private. Something inside won't let you make the convenient excuses people typically make at this point: "just lighten up," or "it's a part of your childhood", or "stop being so serious and just enjoy it". It's almost bad enough that you want to wash your hands of the thing completely.
But it's not that easy. Somehow, despite all the embarrassment the mere memory of liking this thing has caused you, total repudiation is out of reach. It's not quite bad enough, not quite wrong enough, to toss out that small part of you that was still innocent in your teenage years. The part of you left over from that vaunted childhood outlook, trying hard not to die out completely in the brutal world of the American teenager. The part of you that could like a thing for itself, regardless of its objective qualities.
As an adult that part of you, if it survived, is still valuable. Maybe even more than it used to be. You realize that anything attached to it strongly enough will always live in your heart, no matter how cringe-inducing, no matter how lackluster, or how truly awful. You accept that you are forever chained to bad taste, because you used to be a long time ago, and at least a small part of you is still the same. And you will always be stuck with it, and everything attached to it.
Damn you, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie. Damn you.
But even those fruit loops never talk about getting in touch with your inner teenager. I never really thought about it before, but you have to wonder why not. Is it because, as adults, some of us still act or think like we did at that age? Are so many of us still alternately naive and too knowing, arrogant and extremely insecure, selfish and generous? Maybe.
And its true that many people do want to return to what they imagined their teenage years to be. But those people are delusional.
The rest of us, upon reflection, remember thinking things were cool when they so obviously aren't, and weren't. Of doing things that were not just incredibly stupid, but unfulfilling and unrewarding even at the time. Of liking things that, upon coming back to them in our adult years, are not anywhere near as likable as we remember. It's something I call the "False Nostalgia Effect", as opposed to the regular "Nostalgia Effect".
I think we are all familiar with both these conditions: the latter is where we continue to fondly remember things that are basically good, but for which there's no reason other than nostalgia to like them now as much as we do. Whereas the former is when we look forward to revisiting something we were fond of, only to experience it again and wonder what the hell we were thinking.
Many things I go back to years later obviously fit in one category or the other. I find new good in a thing I didn't see before, and while I may not enjoy it in the same way, I enjoy it just as much. Or I clearly see through the false veneer of whatever attracted me to a thing in the first place, and cast it off, perhaps dejectedly, as something no longer to be admired or enjoyed. This can't be done without leaving at least a little hole in the heart, but the sheer obnoxious wrongness of the thing helps you to cope.
Sometimes though, things fall into a weird middle category. There's at least a glimmer left of what attracted you in the first place, but your "good taste" vision has become sharper over the years, and the rough edges of the thing have come into sharp focus. No longer can the thing be simply enjoyed, even in private. Something inside won't let you make the convenient excuses people typically make at this point: "just lighten up," or "it's a part of your childhood", or "stop being so serious and just enjoy it". It's almost bad enough that you want to wash your hands of the thing completely.
But it's not that easy. Somehow, despite all the embarrassment the mere memory of liking this thing has caused you, total repudiation is out of reach. It's not quite bad enough, not quite wrong enough, to toss out that small part of you that was still innocent in your teenage years. The part of you left over from that vaunted childhood outlook, trying hard not to die out completely in the brutal world of the American teenager. The part of you that could like a thing for itself, regardless of its objective qualities.
As an adult that part of you, if it survived, is still valuable. Maybe even more than it used to be. You realize that anything attached to it strongly enough will always live in your heart, no matter how cringe-inducing, no matter how lackluster, or how truly awful. You accept that you are forever chained to bad taste, because you used to be a long time ago, and at least a small part of you is still the same. And you will always be stuck with it, and everything attached to it.
Damn you, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie. Damn you.
Jan 19, 2008
Book Keeping
Is that right? Or is it supposed to be one word, like "bookkeeping"? Or "bookeeping", with only one L? I could look it up, but lately I've noticed that the ability to look up anything at any time has effected (or is it "affected"?) my memory in much the same way a calculator dampens the math skills of a 6th grader. Meaning, since I don't use my brain for it, I've slowly become dependent on the machine.
As a result, my ability to recall facts without electronic help is dwindling. It's not bad yet, but noticeable enough to make me consider deleting my bookmarks for wikipedia and dictionary.com
And once they're erased from my computer, I won't remember them.
Anyway, to business -- some of the links have been updated. I may add more later, but for now everything should take you where it says it will.
As a result, my ability to recall facts without electronic help is dwindling. It's not bad yet, but noticeable enough to make me consider deleting my bookmarks for wikipedia and dictionary.com
And once they're erased from my computer, I won't remember them.
Anyway, to business -- some of the links have been updated. I may add more later, but for now everything should take you where it says it will.
Jan 18, 2008
Conquer Club
Unbelievably, I'm back on the very same day as a previous post, this time to bring to your attention a new link in the aptly named "Other Stuff" category. It's to a site called Conquer Club, and for the strategy-minded, it's an exceptionally great way to waste a few minutes at a time without having to make a major commitment.
The idea is, take the classic board game RISK, change the rules ever so slightly, add a bazillion different maps, each with their own rules variations, and let people around the globe go at it. Up to four games at once is free, and for a mere $20 a year, you can play in as many games as you like and even start your own, publicly or in private. There's a well-moderated feedback system, the requisite forum, tournaments, and lots of other options. Win/loss ratios are tracked fairly, and you only have to take your turn once a day (but if you're not a complete jerk, you'll try for twice a day just to keep things moving).
If you make your way over there, look for Chief Beef and drop a line in my club inbox.
The idea is, take the classic board game RISK, change the rules ever so slightly, add a bazillion different maps, each with their own rules variations, and let people around the globe go at it. Up to four games at once is free, and for a mere $20 a year, you can play in as many games as you like and even start your own, publicly or in private. There's a well-moderated feedback system, the requisite forum, tournaments, and lots of other options. Win/loss ratios are tracked fairly, and you only have to take your turn once a day (but if you're not a complete jerk, you'll try for twice a day just to keep things moving).
If you make your way over there, look for Chief Beef and drop a line in my club inbox.
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