A Man Man Concert Review
Rumours of the possibility of a bar brawl involving me are greatly exaggerated*. Sure, I was swishing saliva for the next encounter. And, yes, my fists were pressed for combat. But that’s about as far as it gets.
A month ago, when Sealed With a Kiss Productions started posting up bills for the Man Man concert, Graeme had just informed me that he was planning on once again dropping the Bloc Party ball of paying me back for promising to take me to their sold out show**. I thought, ‘these guys would make for good live entertainment,’ and pressed for a “trade” of sorts. Graeme, down with that, finally got around to picking up tickets on Saturday.
Between my initial expression of wanting to go to Man Man, and actually getting to Man Man, I dropped my BCID card outside of the Shopper’s Drug Mart on Granville. I don’t go to bars or many concerts or clubs, but for some reason, everyone else has dragged me out for birthdays or concerts since I lost my ID. I’m old, but not quite haggard looking enough to pass for over 18, apparently, and only government issued photo ID is the only way to prove my age. My first hurdle at Richard’s was to get in using only three pieces of government issued ID (no photos), and a student ID with a photo—the names are all exact. Dramatic pauses involving what my night will look like are likely to drive me crazy—worse still is that it’ll be close to two months before it is ratified. Short story short, I eventually got in.
After some shuffling of locations, and a mediocre and boring opening set, Grae, Scott and myself settled up in front of the stage (on my left hand side). One of the first signs of stupidity was the girl (literally), to my left applying the reddest of rouges on her mouth. In front of the stage. With her compact mirror. In between sets. I actually proclaimed to my concert companions ‘what the fuck?!” Scott said that girls smelled nice, and that ended the dispute over whether or not her behavior was rational or called for. This girl is going to need a name, so it is probably best if I give her one now. Tiffani (with an “i”) will cause me grief tonight. She’ll be drinking red wine from the bar, which you know is going to be plonk. Only the finest plonk is served at bars. It is only when I see her vat of black piss that I realized her need to cosmetically enhance herself ‘omg! right now!’: She has to put lipstick marks on her wine glass to distinguish it from everyone else’s red wine glasses at Richard’s. The vinegar scent is still fresh in my nostrils as that would be the scent of Man Man’s concert for me this night.
Aside from smelling bad, and kind of looking bad, she was also representative of “what’s wrong with the world today”. An exaggeration, perhaps, but I’ll let you be the judge.
Enter: Man Man.
Within the first song***, she had touched my head from behind three times to take pictures on her $150 digital camera from the Superstore. Twice were full on collisions, the third was merely the brushing on the hair that creates that tingle in your head that is not comfortable. She apologizes for one clocking and the brushing. The brushing will continue throughout the next song, until I finally decide “I can’t spend a whole concert twitching because someone has to have 300 pictures of the same set, angle, singers, etc.” and I pivot on my left heel and face her directly and ask her nicely to stop touching my head. She pretends to not see me, and I turn around knowing I had made my point very clear.
She will now use her time at Man Man to talk loudly about how mean I am. How much of a bitch I am for not wanting my head to be used as a tripod. I am a horrible, horrible person. It was so awesome when her yelling actually overcame the quieter parts of some songs. I wish I was more like her.
Four songs and countless glasses of grape vomit later, Tiffani’s still insisting that my head is fun to touch and my annoyance with her is unfounded. I keep turning my head slightly to express “stop touching my head”, until finally she reaches over me entirely to take what was inevitably her bestest shot ever! And so, tired of her antics, I decide, ‘fuck, I can block her lens and ruin any chance she has at getting any further shots; ruin my night, I’ll ruin yours.’ Sure enough, not half a song later she’s back on my head, and my hands go up to block the lens. Irritated and drunk, she screams, and shift her camera to my right. I block it again. She has a hissy fit, and I turn around to address her. Her eyelids are shifting closed now, as the effects of alcoholic’s vitamin C are weighing in heavily on her. Her babbles involved “I hope I make you feel good just by being here” and other promises her dirty old uncle would whisper to her. Her good friend, had the mind to take the camera away from her and aim it at me. At first, I was like “why are you taking a picture of me?” and then I realized after the fact that I was mad enough to have my fists clenched and likely raised. I began screaming about how I wasn’t infringing on her ability to enjoy her night, why should she feel she has the right to do it to me and other such logic based arguments that are so hard to resist when you’re drunk. Graeme turned me away before the flash went off, and her friend moved Tiffani closer to centre stage. By this point I was seething and began to build up spit for any repeat encounter she may have wanted.
The music was awesome and I got two very awesome buttons for my shoulder bag.
*if only to the disappointment of myself.
** that he still went to. I hold grudges about promises, people.
*** holy crap, they play fast.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
As if Corinne Didn't Have Enough Reason to Hate Rap
I present to you (in linkage form, because embedding youtube videos is so lame) MC Karl Rove.
"He can't be beat, he's so white from his head to his feet."
Truer words have never been spoken. You can't keep a good cracka down.
Via, the always fun poplicks.
"He can't be beat, he's so white from his head to his feet."
Truer words have never been spoken. You can't keep a good cracka down.
Via, the always fun poplicks.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
20 cups of select fluids a day will make you live forever.
You Are Also What You Drink: NYTimes Article (Subscription Required)
A run down of several studies based on beverage consumptions and their health effects.
First of all, if you're going to bitch about having to sign up with NY Times online, you're silly. I've been a member since 1999 (8 years) and have had zero problem with spam (unlike the Chicago Tribune membership, which thinks I should attend colleges in Illinois). Secondly, there are ways around registering, such as using a shared log-in or if the article is archived/retained elsewhere. But seriously, sign up and keep reading. I only wish I had $1,000 to spend on the annual paper subscription. MADNESS.
FIVE CUPS A DAY is key to your health.
According to the article, "Mice prone to an Alzheimer’s-like disease were protected by drinking water spiked with caffeine equivalent to what people get from five cups of coffee a day." It also mentions a human study that suggested that memory deficiencies can also be prevented with three cups. I can only hope that they mean the literal measurement of cup.
And if five cups to keep you from going senile isn't enough fluid, get five more cups of black tea to keep your arteries open! Bone density, kidneys and teeth are also eligible for benefits with black tea.
Hold on before you start reaching for you 5 cups of red wine, though. Red wine is no better than beer, vodka or rubbing alcohol when it comes to having perceived health benefits. Daily, one serving for women, two servings for men (how predictable that men get all the fun and luxuries!) have a whole grocery list of benefits (unless you're drinking for two, which at that point, you're cut off completely. bitches) regardless of what the original ingredient was before distillation. But those are all nulified if you're, surprise, a heavy drinker. Oh, moderation, what can't you be applied to?
Other beverages covered in the original article include sugar drinks, water and milk if you're curious how they all rank on the list of "you ought to be drinking to save your life".
Conclusion: Water is better than soda and kids are getting obese and gross because this lesson is lost on American consumers.
A run down of several studies based on beverage consumptions and their health effects.
First of all, if you're going to bitch about having to sign up with NY Times online, you're silly. I've been a member since 1999 (8 years) and have had zero problem with spam (unlike the Chicago Tribune membership, which thinks I should attend colleges in Illinois). Secondly, there are ways around registering, such as using a shared log-in or if the article is archived/retained elsewhere. But seriously, sign up and keep reading. I only wish I had $1,000 to spend on the annual paper subscription. MADNESS.
FIVE CUPS A DAY is key to your health.
According to the article, "Mice prone to an Alzheimer’s-like disease were protected by drinking water spiked with caffeine equivalent to what people get from five cups of coffee a day." It also mentions a human study that suggested that memory deficiencies can also be prevented with three cups. I can only hope that they mean the literal measurement of cup.
And if five cups to keep you from going senile isn't enough fluid, get five more cups of black tea to keep your arteries open! Bone density, kidneys and teeth are also eligible for benefits with black tea.
Hold on before you start reaching for you 5 cups of red wine, though. Red wine is no better than beer, vodka or rubbing alcohol when it comes to having perceived health benefits. Daily, one serving for women, two servings for men (how predictable that men get all the fun and luxuries!) have a whole grocery list of benefits (unless you're drinking for two, which at that point, you're cut off completely. bitches) regardless of what the original ingredient was before distillation. But those are all nulified if you're, surprise, a heavy drinker. Oh, moderation, what can't you be applied to?
Other beverages covered in the original article include sugar drinks, water and milk if you're curious how they all rank on the list of "you ought to be drinking to save your life".
Conclusion: Water is better than soda and kids are getting obese and gross because this lesson is lost on American consumers.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
I Am a Writer; A Writer of Fictions
Yesterday, I started writing a letter of resignation. I included all the flowery terms of gratitude, of professions of adoration for my peers, and expressions of future plans.
I had not planned on completing the letter. But today, I wrote the final two paragraphs and sent it off to the recepient; who, in turn, sent it to her mother. Her mother gave me glowing reviews and thus completed another adventure of "Corinne writes your employment documents for you".
It was in this moment, I reflected on all the times I have done such things (résumé advice, letter of intent/resignation writing, editing, etc.). It is high time I make use of some of my skills and apply for a proper business number and begin legitmizing my skills. It'll likely operate at a loss, as there are tons of non-profit organizations that help you polish up your résumé, but I'd like to have on MY résumé that I owned a business.
I had not planned on completing the letter. But today, I wrote the final two paragraphs and sent it off to the recepient; who, in turn, sent it to her mother. Her mother gave me glowing reviews and thus completed another adventure of "Corinne writes your employment documents for you".
It was in this moment, I reflected on all the times I have done such things (résumé advice, letter of intent/resignation writing, editing, etc.). It is high time I make use of some of my skills and apply for a proper business number and begin legitmizing my skills. It'll likely operate at a loss, as there are tons of non-profit organizations that help you polish up your résumé, but I'd like to have on MY résumé that I owned a business.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Digital Crack
My co-worker was introduced to the Wii-citement that I exuded in the later half of last November, and begged for one for Christmas. I think I have Nintendo-Luck (and only Nintendo-Luck), for everyone who has wished for a Wii upon hearing my glee has obtained one. Also, I rock at tipiing people off as to where to get.find these babies.
The Wii is backwards compatible, and she has now received/playing Animal Crossing (the original). All at once, the original excitement of the game came back to me: the surprises of 15,000 Bell fish, not knowing what a goldon shovel was, Sports Week! She told me about her boyfriend's desire to destroy her game because of how little she's seen daylight in playing AC.
It brought me back to... yesterday. I'll admit Yorkelet an Yorke have not had a whole lot of visitations from me (Yorke will get some action when I lend it out to the co-worker) for at least a month, but Puzzle Quest... Oh, Puzzle Quest.
I really don't know what to say that hasn't been said: if you like RPGs and you're hooked on PopCap, this game is digital crack. Puzzle Quest follows Trioncube in puzzle games that make my eyes go crossed for hours on end, but Puzzle Quest has at least three or four different styles of play (one is an solvable puzzle, one is combative puzzle, another is strategy, etc.) with the same pieces! Trioncube, while fun, had minimal things to unlock (50 sound effect, 10 backgrounds). Puzzle Quest is pure unlocking.
So, what's your addiction?
The Wii is backwards compatible, and she has now received/playing Animal Crossing (the original). All at once, the original excitement of the game came back to me: the surprises of 15,000 Bell fish, not knowing what a goldon shovel was, Sports Week! She told me about her boyfriend's desire to destroy her game because of how little she's seen daylight in playing AC.
It brought me back to... yesterday. I'll admit Yorkelet an Yorke have not had a whole lot of visitations from me (Yorke will get some action when I lend it out to the co-worker) for at least a month, but Puzzle Quest... Oh, Puzzle Quest.
I really don't know what to say that hasn't been said: if you like RPGs and you're hooked on PopCap, this game is digital crack. Puzzle Quest follows Trioncube in puzzle games that make my eyes go crossed for hours on end, but Puzzle Quest has at least three or four different styles of play (one is an solvable puzzle, one is combative puzzle, another is strategy, etc.) with the same pieces! Trioncube, while fun, had minimal things to unlock (50 sound effect, 10 backgrounds). Puzzle Quest is pure unlocking.
So, what's your addiction?
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Why Old People in Business Should Be Considered Obsolete
A question of whether or not consoles are obsolete.
I will agree that PCs are becoming cheaper and more likely to be in the home, but to have a graphically powerful computer that is capable of playing to top of the line games (or even anything new), you will constantly be upgrading the hardware. Considering the life span of a console (5-10 years), without any significant upgrades (microphones, dance pads and internet connectivity aside), programmers are given a set of stats they are to work with for an allotment of time. PC gaming, while allowing for independent programmers with low budget and even lower graphic resolutions to produce (which is starting to happen to console gaming as well), has a near-endless limit. Which, as awesome as infinity is, it's hard for a casual gamer (as the author of the above article mentions), to just say "I really want to play that new PC game" without having knowledge of their video card, RAM, O/S or hard disc space remaining. I think this kind of acknowledgement is important. Yes, our culture is geekier and more tech savvy, but ask the majority of those 35 to 55 year old women casual gamers what their processor speed is and they're likely to hit you with their purses.
I am not saying the casual gamer is incapable of knowing what their computer does while they are asleep (although this is also true), I am suggesting that these casual gamers are less likely to invest the large amounts (still) of capital required into casual gaming (computer + every damn upgrade when things aren't to the specs of a required game). If it comes preloaded on their Palm, BlackBerry or PopCap is emailed to them, they'll probably enjoy it and may seek out other online games. Ask them to pay $20, and some will. MacMommies will probably be livid that you need a PC, and PCGrannies will be upset that their grandson's old (and I mean old) computer doesn't have enough "sheeps or goats or rams" on her email box.
And here is where the console will thrive: no upgrades, no tech talk, plug it in (or sometimes, throw in a few batteries), put in cartridge, play.
Rather than software commanding the hardware market, consoles have established hardware that the software must conform to. If we look at Nintendo alone's journey into the software demanding hardware upgrades, we'll see the roadside littered with Super Nintendo's mouse & SuperScope, the 8-Bit's Power Glove, GameCube's microphone, GameBoy Advance's E-Card Reader and even the original light gun. But if we look at the DS & the Wii, we find two "gimmicky" ideas requiring software to adhere to the demands of the hardware; and two very large successes in casual gaming.
I won't pretend my readership knows me, so I will tell you now, I have never turned anyone a gamer by using a PC or Mac. I'm sure I could set up a casual gamer, but I sure as hell do not want to deal with the call about why World of Warcraft won't install.
----------------------------------
This rant comes courtesy of my father who, when having difficulties with his computer (likely because it's heavily fragmented and he would've installed Bonzi Buddy if it were still around), decided that it was time to buy and install Windows Vista in the opening weeks. The only reason my father even has a computer was because he wanted a camcorder that he could edit home movies on my mother's Mac. He bought one that was only compatible with a PC (although the salesman said otherwise). It was a Sony camcorder, so his solution was to buy a Sony Vaio. I hate these people, but love my father. A real dichotomy here. The amount of tech crap he's bought and installed (thank god he stopped buying Sony only products and has moved onto the Kodak line of thinking--diversity is good) reminds me of a Threadless shirt...
Back to the Windows Vista saga, his video card won't support Vista. His motherboard won't support a newer video card, and his solution? Buy a new computer.
Ask him about his Wii and he'll tell you it's never given him any troubles. Which is good for a toy.
I will agree that PCs are becoming cheaper and more likely to be in the home, but to have a graphically powerful computer that is capable of playing to top of the line games (or even anything new), you will constantly be upgrading the hardware. Considering the life span of a console (5-10 years), without any significant upgrades (microphones, dance pads and internet connectivity aside), programmers are given a set of stats they are to work with for an allotment of time. PC gaming, while allowing for independent programmers with low budget and even lower graphic resolutions to produce (which is starting to happen to console gaming as well), has a near-endless limit. Which, as awesome as infinity is, it's hard for a casual gamer (as the author of the above article mentions), to just say "I really want to play that new PC game" without having knowledge of their video card, RAM, O/S or hard disc space remaining. I think this kind of acknowledgement is important. Yes, our culture is geekier and more tech savvy, but ask the majority of those 35 to 55 year old women casual gamers what their processor speed is and they're likely to hit you with their purses.
I am not saying the casual gamer is incapable of knowing what their computer does while they are asleep (although this is also true), I am suggesting that these casual gamers are less likely to invest the large amounts (still) of capital required into casual gaming (computer + every damn upgrade when things aren't to the specs of a required game). If it comes preloaded on their Palm, BlackBerry or PopCap is emailed to them, they'll probably enjoy it and may seek out other online games. Ask them to pay $20, and some will. MacMommies will probably be livid that you need a PC, and PCGrannies will be upset that their grandson's old (and I mean old) computer doesn't have enough "sheeps or goats or rams" on her email box.
And here is where the console will thrive: no upgrades, no tech talk, plug it in (or sometimes, throw in a few batteries), put in cartridge, play.
Rather than software commanding the hardware market, consoles have established hardware that the software must conform to. If we look at Nintendo alone's journey into the software demanding hardware upgrades, we'll see the roadside littered with Super Nintendo's mouse & SuperScope, the 8-Bit's Power Glove, GameCube's microphone, GameBoy Advance's E-Card Reader and even the original light gun. But if we look at the DS & the Wii, we find two "gimmicky" ideas requiring software to adhere to the demands of the hardware; and two very large successes in casual gaming.
I won't pretend my readership knows me, so I will tell you now, I have never turned anyone a gamer by using a PC or Mac. I'm sure I could set up a casual gamer, but I sure as hell do not want to deal with the call about why World of Warcraft won't install.
----------------------------------
This rant comes courtesy of my father who, when having difficulties with his computer (likely because it's heavily fragmented and he would've installed Bonzi Buddy if it were still around), decided that it was time to buy and install Windows Vista in the opening weeks. The only reason my father even has a computer was because he wanted a camcorder that he could edit home movies on my mother's Mac. He bought one that was only compatible with a PC (although the salesman said otherwise). It was a Sony camcorder, so his solution was to buy a Sony Vaio. I hate these people, but love my father. A real dichotomy here. The amount of tech crap he's bought and installed (thank god he stopped buying Sony only products and has moved onto the Kodak line of thinking--diversity is good) reminds me of a Threadless shirt...
Back to the Windows Vista saga, his video card won't support Vista. His motherboard won't support a newer video card, and his solution? Buy a new computer.
Ask him about his Wii and he'll tell you it's never given him any troubles. Which is good for a toy.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
My foray into The End
After spending just over an hour listening to the dulling hum of CBC Radio Two (which was markedly more vivid than CBC Radio One), I decided it was time to listen to something more upbeat. My office chum suggested The Beat, and seeing as how I had the entire world of internet & radio in front of me, I thought better of it. Besides, pint-size was off to do her afternoon run in 15 minutes.
Having not listened to a radio station of my choosing in close to a decade, nostalgia beckoned me to the radio dial’s logical conclusion: 107.7 The End.
First up, AOL Word Search, or its modern equivalent: Google! In a moment of judgement relapse or just plain laziness, only numbers and decimal made its way to the search bar. To my fortune, Seattle’s 107.7 was the top search item and I didn’t have to scroll at all. This is where the ease of internet radio and 107.7 end.
The website is black and red with white font all over; and, like a bad joke, it’s ugly. After deep searching for any information about listening online through the various sidebars, I returned to the front page mess. And finally a link was found! Hooray! So click, wait, wait… and… “please register to listen to streaming audio”. For a moment I consider the possibility of not listening to any music ever again, before going through the painless process that doesn’t even involve email verification!
Some more clicking and waiting, and finally, it arrives—with a video ad to greet me. And then:
As if the cosmos aligned to let me know my entertainment had arrived: Elvis Costello is in the midst of his rendition of Radio, Radio.
In the past 90 minutes, they have played two Violent Femmes songs (one was a cover by Gnarls Barkley), Weezer, Nine Inch Nails and Heart Shaped Box.I wonder how long it will take them to be called a “classic alternative” station…
Having not listened to a radio station of my choosing in close to a decade, nostalgia beckoned me to the radio dial’s logical conclusion: 107.7 The End.
First up, AOL Word Search, or its modern equivalent: Google! In a moment of judgement relapse or just plain laziness, only numbers and decimal made its way to the search bar. To my fortune, Seattle’s 107.7 was the top search item and I didn’t have to scroll at all. This is where the ease of internet radio and 107.7 end.
The website is black and red with white font all over; and, like a bad joke, it’s ugly. After deep searching for any information about listening online through the various sidebars, I returned to the front page mess. And finally a link was found! Hooray! So click, wait, wait… and… “please register to listen to streaming audio”. For a moment I consider the possibility of not listening to any music ever again, before going through the painless process that doesn’t even involve email verification!
Some more clicking and waiting, and finally, it arrives—with a video ad to greet me. And then:
As if the cosmos aligned to let me know my entertainment had arrived: Elvis Costello is in the midst of his rendition of Radio, Radio.
In the past 90 minutes, they have played two Violent Femmes songs (one was a cover by Gnarls Barkley), Weezer, Nine Inch Nails and Heart Shaped Box.I wonder how long it will take them to be called a “classic alternative” station…
The Glory that is Prince
Wow. Just Wow.
It's been awhile but Prince's performance at the superbowl seems to have touched a nerve in the american heartland. (See said performance here and here.)
As this blogpost on Poplicks shows, using the official FCC complaints (from the smoking gun) we can definetly see that prince has created a horrible mess.
Apparently he turns males with potential to be QBs into HIV infected Queers. He also inspired impotency from jealousy derived from the implied size of his manhood.
More reasons to love the jolly old JoHo.
It's been awhile but Prince's performance at the superbowl seems to have touched a nerve in the american heartland. (See said performance here and here.)
As this blogpost on Poplicks shows, using the official FCC complaints (from the smoking gun) we can definetly see that prince has created a horrible mess.
Apparently he turns males with potential to be QBs into HIV infected Queers. He also inspired impotency from jealousy derived from the implied size of his manhood.
More reasons to love the jolly old JoHo.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Seven Months Later...
So, I've drank more Coca-Cola products than PepsiCo. brand, but I blame cherry flavouring for that. But PepsiCo. is the better company.
I have yet to be asked if I wanted to be on a test circuit for PD-1 suppressants, but I have learned that foreskin increases men's chances of HIV infection, and may lower a woman's odds. There's another argument for male genital mutilation for mysogynists to use. That, my friends, is called "irony".
Special juvenille bonus: The director of the World Health Organization's AIDS department is named Dr. Kevin De Cock.
The Crane Wife rose to the top of my favourite albums of 2006, but in doing so also put Decemberists fans at the bottom of my favourite list of 2006. How did they manage to get into the high schools? We must ban mixed tapes, CDs and iPods immediately to prevent good music from falling into immature hands! [/curmudgeon]
Another argument against the glass ceiling was released at some point in the past month: Boys are just as good at quitting as women. Take that Human Resources Departments! Equality in job hating! We have to start somewhere.
I have yet to be asked if I wanted to be on a test circuit for PD-1 suppressants, but I have learned that foreskin increases men's chances of HIV infection, and may lower a woman's odds. There's another argument for male genital mutilation for mysogynists to use. That, my friends, is called "irony".
Special juvenille bonus: The director of the World Health Organization's AIDS department is named Dr. Kevin De Cock.
The Crane Wife rose to the top of my favourite albums of 2006, but in doing so also put Decemberists fans at the bottom of my favourite list of 2006. How did they manage to get into the high schools? We must ban mixed tapes, CDs and iPods immediately to prevent good music from falling into immature hands! [/curmudgeon]
Another argument against the glass ceiling was released at some point in the past month: Boys are just as good at quitting as women. Take that Human Resources Departments! Equality in job hating! We have to start somewhere.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
If you didn't think you were gonna get cancer before...
You probably should now.
I don't find the pictures as esthetically pleasing as I do REALLY KIND OF SCARY. So much radiation.
I don't find the pictures as esthetically pleasing as I do REALLY KIND OF SCARY. So much radiation.
This link argues, or at least gives the argument that Babyboomers really suck.
The argument has two distinct parts:
1) They are largely responsible for the excessive consumption of our current culture, and thus the destruction of the environment.
2) The free-sex and experimentation that they practiced broke down the sense of respect and social norms, causing the degeneration of society.
It's odd to see one paper arguing both from the left and right for the same point. I largely agree with the first argument, but the second one reeks of fear and social conservatism. It was just funny to see in the same plave. I guess noone likes the poor bastards.
The argument has two distinct parts:
1) They are largely responsible for the excessive consumption of our current culture, and thus the destruction of the environment.
2) The free-sex and experimentation that they practiced broke down the sense of respect and social norms, causing the degeneration of society.
It's odd to see one paper arguing both from the left and right for the same point. I largely agree with the first argument, but the second one reeks of fear and social conservatism. It was just funny to see in the same plave. I guess noone likes the poor bastards.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
PD-1 and Me!
CBC's article on HIV advancement has piqued my interest in its other applications.
First of all, the article is simplified, but I'm going to run under the premise that it can be taken literally and logically. Second, if you're too lazy to read the really short article: Harvard, the US National Institute of Health and the University of Montreal (I had no idea they had such a facility!) have all found that a protein called PD-1 is over-produced in HIV patients. The more PD-1 in the system, the less active the white T cells are (those are essentially your immune system).
That aside, now to get to the "me" aspect. For absolutely anyone who knows anything about my health record and nothing about my sexual record, I probably have the HIV (I don't). When I get knocked down, I go down hard. Frighteningly so (remember the CDC incident?). I don't just get sick, I go to the hospital (although I loathe almost all doctors and hospitals; no offense to all the MDs in the house!). The idea of a PD-1 suppressant sounds as delicious as candy. If I could get my T cells to do their job more often I'd have half as many medical mysteries as I do now (probably wouldn't assist in the cerebral or hormonal inflictions, though). I think my T cells are just slow swimmers, so to speak. They are the couch potatoes of my system.
If PD-1 is the cause of lazy immune systems, I want mine suppressed.
First of all, the article is simplified, but I'm going to run under the premise that it can be taken literally and logically. Second, if you're too lazy to read the really short article: Harvard, the US National Institute of Health and the University of Montreal (I had no idea they had such a facility!) have all found that a protein called PD-1 is over-produced in HIV patients. The more PD-1 in the system, the less active the white T cells are (those are essentially your immune system).
That aside, now to get to the "me" aspect. For absolutely anyone who knows anything about my health record and nothing about my sexual record, I probably have the HIV (I don't). When I get knocked down, I go down hard. Frighteningly so (remember the CDC incident?). I don't just get sick, I go to the hospital (although I loathe almost all doctors and hospitals; no offense to all the MDs in the house!). The idea of a PD-1 suppressant sounds as delicious as candy. If I could get my T cells to do their job more often I'd have half as many medical mysteries as I do now (probably wouldn't assist in the cerebral or hormonal inflictions, though). I think my T cells are just slow swimmers, so to speak. They are the couch potatoes of my system.
If PD-1 is the cause of lazy immune systems, I want mine suppressed.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Making "men" technophobic?
Wired's Sex blog has posted a comment about robots that I found to have an interesting observation.
To suggest that men would fear being replaced by robotic counterparts seems rather unusual. Why would women not harbour the same "fears"? We've lived in a world dominated by sexvertising that has generally sold out the female form to everything from car parts to the very common toilettries market. Not to say that men have not been, but let's face it, men have done way more to "replace" women sexaully than women have of men. I don't imagine the first robots off the line for sexual purposes will be robots with phalluses. Call me crazy, but I have vivid, hauting images of men with too much money purchasing RealDolls (that link is not safe for work, even though I just clicked on it at work--thank god I'm a woman, I can probably get away with it).
Sure, a robot will do more household chores than the average man and be way more of a subservient (literally) slave, but do most people endure relationships for their use-purpose? I highly doubt that. I think the primary reason I, personally, stick to a relationship (without many of the robotic enhancements) is the companionship. An andrioid will represent a fiction; the human, non-fiction. Just as we can do some serious tweeking to fiction to fit our needs and ideals, an android's negative behavior can be reprogrammed. Human lives, on the the other hand, are required to live in a linear line and while some behavior can be modified, the majority will be met with comprimise and endurance (or disaster and heartbreak).
So, fear not the robots, men. Embrace them, as I imagine some will do.
To suggest that men would fear being replaced by robotic counterparts seems rather unusual. Why would women not harbour the same "fears"? We've lived in a world dominated by sexvertising that has generally sold out the female form to everything from car parts to the very common toilettries market. Not to say that men have not been, but let's face it, men have done way more to "replace" women sexaully than women have of men. I don't imagine the first robots off the line for sexual purposes will be robots with phalluses. Call me crazy, but I have vivid, hauting images of men with too much money purchasing RealDolls (that link is not safe for work, even though I just clicked on it at work--thank god I'm a woman, I can probably get away with it).
Sure, a robot will do more household chores than the average man and be way more of a subservient (literally) slave, but do most people endure relationships for their use-purpose? I highly doubt that. I think the primary reason I, personally, stick to a relationship (without many of the robotic enhancements) is the companionship. An andrioid will represent a fiction; the human, non-fiction. Just as we can do some serious tweeking to fiction to fit our needs and ideals, an android's negative behavior can be reprogrammed. Human lives, on the the other hand, are required to live in a linear line and while some behavior can be modified, the majority will be met with comprimise and endurance (or disaster and heartbreak).
So, fear not the robots, men. Embrace them, as I imagine some will do.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
I'm a sick puppy
For years (like just under 10), I have managed to ignore that freakish looking gremlin on tabloids. I've managed to not be curious about "another child murder" and all the media cicus crap that ensued. I thought the whole thing was just another example of people being super creepy over a super creepy kid.
I wasn't wrong; the kid and the media attention is creepy, but hot damn, this confessor business has got me interested.
It's actually quite strange that I have not been interested in the case prior to... oh, a week ago. It's got all the elements of something Bill Kurtis would tell me about while I kill time at my parents' place. You've got a botched investigation, a dead kid and no solid suspects (other than the creepy kid's family). I've now spent my Sunday morning going over the case files and I have got to say, it's quite the stumper. (You can skip to the next paragraph if you know all this crap, but this is all fascinating news to me). First, there are all the elements about the murder that family members would be privvy to (or someone who had lived there before, spent extensive time there or had access to floor plans): the dollar figure of the father's xmas bonus, the location of the rooms (including the most obscure back closet in a basement), who/how she was found (the whole bit where the police sent the father in to search, rather than themselves), the ability to write a 3 page letter inside the house, no real signs of forced entry (a broken window that only some wirey dude could get through; and left that way, too?), the location of the kid in the first place. It kind of adds up against one or more of the parents (the police even went for the 9 year old brother; really! I said: this is all news to me). But then you have the DNA under her nails not tied to family members, and the sheer gruesome exit she took doesn't look like something that a parent would actually do (but, what do I know? My expertise comes from American over-dramatised television crimes shows).
Anyway, I know this is pure tabloid fodder and that my mind would be better served with more valuable information, but it's bizzare--like a car accident and the cliché that follows.
I wasn't wrong; the kid and the media attention is creepy, but hot damn, this confessor business has got me interested.
It's actually quite strange that I have not been interested in the case prior to... oh, a week ago. It's got all the elements of something Bill Kurtis would tell me about while I kill time at my parents' place. You've got a botched investigation, a dead kid and no solid suspects (other than the creepy kid's family). I've now spent my Sunday morning going over the case files and I have got to say, it's quite the stumper. (You can skip to the next paragraph if you know all this crap, but this is all fascinating news to me). First, there are all the elements about the murder that family members would be privvy to (or someone who had lived there before, spent extensive time there or had access to floor plans): the dollar figure of the father's xmas bonus, the location of the rooms (including the most obscure back closet in a basement), who/how she was found (the whole bit where the police sent the father in to search, rather than themselves), the ability to write a 3 page letter inside the house, no real signs of forced entry (a broken window that only some wirey dude could get through; and left that way, too?), the location of the kid in the first place. It kind of adds up against one or more of the parents (the police even went for the 9 year old brother; really! I said: this is all news to me). But then you have the DNA under her nails not tied to family members, and the sheer gruesome exit she took doesn't look like something that a parent would actually do (but, what do I know? My expertise comes from American over-dramatised television crimes shows).
Anyway, I know this is pure tabloid fodder and that my mind would be better served with more valuable information, but it's bizzare--like a car accident and the cliché that follows.
Friday, August 18, 2006
The Crane Wife and other tales
After obtaining a pre-release of The Crane Wife through no illegal activities of my own doing, I can start to actually make initial observations (by request).
My very first impressions based on a two track experience is that I really like 80s maritime can-con ballads, so this is so far up my alleyway. That being said, I am certainly finding less story more redundance. With all new soon-to-be-friends (even ones you know that are automatic bed-dudes-4-ever), The Crane Wife and I are just kind of bopping our heads trying to find out what we have in common in order to build relations with. She's definately toying with my desire to dance when cleaning with The Perfect Crime. I do like the less-pussy-more-pitbull rock
attitude that is in on this album, which is the biggest distinction that I have found.
Will think more once I master the names and track sounds. As a whole, so far, I am enjoying it and know that I will enjoy this for years to come. Just how many remains to be seen.
My very first impressions based on a two track experience is that I really like 80s maritime can-con ballads, so this is so far up my alleyway. That being said, I am certainly finding less story more redundance. With all new soon-to-be-friends (even ones you know that are automatic bed-dudes-4-ever), The Crane Wife and I are just kind of bopping our heads trying to find out what we have in common in order to build relations with. She's definately toying with my desire to dance when cleaning with The Perfect Crime. I do like the less-pussy-more-pitbull rock
attitude that is in on this album, which is the biggest distinction that I have found.
Will think more once I master the names and track sounds. As a whole, so far, I am enjoying it and know that I will enjoy this for years to come. Just how many remains to be seen.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
For Corinne
Looks the libertarian revolution is dead.
Corinne and I have had an ongoing discussion over the year about a mutually hated political foe, that of libertarianism. It seems to me that every person I have come across (with one exception, and since he's someone I have only talked to online he doesn't count as real) that argues for libertarian governance is either bat-shit crazy or intellectually lazy. So while it's nice to see it go, I'm not clear that it's heir apparent, big-government conservatism which sometimes pretends to be libertarian is philosophy, is a good replacement.
Corinne and I have had an ongoing discussion over the year about a mutually hated political foe, that of libertarianism. It seems to me that every person I have come across (with one exception, and since he's someone I have only talked to online he doesn't count as real) that argues for libertarian governance is either bat-shit crazy or intellectually lazy. So while it's nice to see it go, I'm not clear that it's heir apparent, big-government conservatism which sometimes pretends to be libertarian is philosophy, is a good replacement.
New Decemberists Album Leaked
Currently just over halfway through. So far not too impressed. Very proggy. Seems to really take from the same set of influences the Tain ep was big on. Haven't listened too deeply to the lyrics yet however. Will update on in-depth listen.
Available where all good music stolen.
Available where all good music stolen.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
The Battle for Cola Supremecy Has Been Won
After decades of battling it out for my loyalty, PepsiCo. Inc. has won my alliegence (as best as any soft-drink manufacturer can), by simply making itself a minority. With Ms. Nooyi coming in as the eleventh (that's a one preceded by another one) female CEO of a Fortune 500 company, it's no wonder women are feeling the sting of the idea of an imaginary glass ceiling.
Those who know me, know that I know that there are external forces that keep the glass ceiling in place that don't involve the oppressive man, but I'm finding startling (but not surprising) that women only account for just over 16% of corporate officers. Sure, lots of women opt to take a year off to make a baby or two and that makes our whole gender economically unreliable in the grand scheme of things (especially if they fall in love with pukeypookie and opt to stay home foreva!), but is there not a viable solution for investing in women in the workplace to allow for the possibility of trusting career-minded women? I'm seriously doubting that the mere admission that a woman does not want to pass a baby through her loins is ever taken seriously (speaking from my own experience: very few people on this planet take me seriously).
Back on topic about how I'll drink PepsiCo. Inc. products:
I realize that this is not exactly a difficult choice as I prefer Aquafina over salted Dasani and the rest of the sugary water all tastes the same to me, but now I'm going to make a concerted effort to support PepsiCo. Inc and their choice to appoint a woman in the seas of men.
Those who know me, know that I know that there are external forces that keep the glass ceiling in place that don't involve the oppressive man, but I'm finding startling (but not surprising) that women only account for just over 16% of corporate officers. Sure, lots of women opt to take a year off to make a baby or two and that makes our whole gender economically unreliable in the grand scheme of things (especially if they fall in love with pukeypookie and opt to stay home foreva!), but is there not a viable solution for investing in women in the workplace to allow for the possibility of trusting career-minded women? I'm seriously doubting that the mere admission that a woman does not want to pass a baby through her loins is ever taken seriously (speaking from my own experience: very few people on this planet take me seriously).
Back on topic about how I'll drink PepsiCo. Inc. products:
I realize that this is not exactly a difficult choice as I prefer Aquafina over salted Dasani and the rest of the sugary water all tastes the same to me, but now I'm going to make a concerted effort to support PepsiCo. Inc and their choice to appoint a woman in the seas of men.
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