For this summer semester I mixed up dates and missed early registration - the best time to ensure you get the classes you want. So I scrambled about, harassing instructors of classes I want and generally panicking about getting any classes that would be useful.
This morning was the opening of late registration. I was ready to go at 6:30, checking to make sure my list of CRNs was right and everything was ready. Mostly I was making sure that I was in the system and actively ensuring I didn't get timed out. I got into the add/drop page for this summer the moment it opened, pasted my CRNs and got into everything I was shooting for (one of which may get dropped if I get permission to enter a class I really want).
Just curious, I tried the login page at 7:04. The queue was at 654, up to 973 in the little less than a minute I watched. They set up the queue system because apparently the opening of early registration saw the system crash about twenty minutes after it opened. Interesting trivia - a little more than 80% of classes had been filled by the time it crashed.
I got the impression that the school is trying desperately to add summer classes, after communicating with several instructors. Five of the nine instructors I emailed shot back a form mentioning that they have received a lot of emails requesting entrance, two never responded and the other two responded only because they appreciated the concise and eloquent/formal wording of my emails. I was also talking to a couple of my instructors and have heard much the same thing - they are getting pounded with email requests for entrance.
I am really glad that I have the opportunity to manage all the issues of going to school with the technology available to streamline it all. When my dad (76) talks about what he had to do to register for classes in the very early fifties, I just cringe. I definitely don't feel all that compelled to whine about the trouble of fucking around online, lying in my bed, waiting for the moment I can swoop in and get my classes...
Showing posts with label School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label School. Show all posts
Friday, April 30, 2010
International Studies and Complications with classes...
It looks like I will be spending much of the rest of the day at school. Apparently there is something I need to deal with in regards to financial aid, though I am very confused as to what it is.
Then I am meeting with some folks about tacking international studies onto my program. It's really kind of cool, because I have taken some classes that count for it and will be taking many more. It is likely to help a lot when I actually get to transfer and will look particularly sexy on grad school apps.
Meanwhile, I still need to study for my communications final so I can take that before Sunday...Good times, good times...
Then I am meeting with some folks about tacking international studies onto my program. It's really kind of cool, because I have taken some classes that count for it and will be taking many more. It is likely to help a lot when I actually get to transfer and will look particularly sexy on grad school apps.
Meanwhile, I still need to study for my communications final so I can take that before Sunday...Good times, good times...
Monday, February 8, 2010
Dialectics, History and Cross Cultural Communications
Posted to my Com class message board. A dialectic perspective of history and it's impact on communications across cultures was the topic and we needed to include an example of something we learned that turned out to be wrong. Here is a concise explanation of the dialectic perspective of communications for context. Thanks to the University of Maryland for what is turning out to be a very handy reference for this class.
It is often important to understand other cultures, from the perspective of their history because it forces us to take a more objective view of their present. An excellent example given in the book is the role that history has played in black/white race relations in the U.S.
It is very easy to forget that our present and the present of others are ultimately the current culmination of what our ancestors passed down from generation to generation. This is both a progression of traditions and heritage, as well as the transmission of changes each generation made in the face of the perceived cultural failings.
Without the considering that this progression happens in every culture, it is all too easy to judge the cultural practices that we find distasteful in others from our own progression. While there is no question that regardless of the cultural context some cultural practices are absolutely repugnant, any attempt to foster change in those cultures must take into account the history that brought about those practices. When one can communicate from the context of this other culture and it's history, it creates a communication paradigm that this other culture will be far more receptive to.
I think a very good example of this, is the history of interactions between native Americans and the European settlers. Many of those of us who were educated in public schools were taught that the Europeans did really horrible things to the natives of this land. But what we were taught actually paints my ancestors in a much better light than they deserve. It is a lot like saying that Nazi Germany mistreated the Jews.
What actually happened was nothing less than a systematic attempt to entirely destroy the cultural heritage of all native Americans. From outright genocide, to removing children from their parents for re-education, often beating children who spoke their native languages or attempted to follow their spiritual heritage. Just 120 years ago, we still thought little of gunning down 200 natives. Just 37 years ago, intolerable conditions on a primarily Lakota reservation, led residents of that reservation to take over and occupy a small town, leading to a major standoff with federal officers.
And just 18 years ago, two native Americans lost their jobs and were denied unemployment benefits for having participated in a religious ceremony involving the ingestion of peyote. While many of us assume that the exploitation of native lands ended a long time ago, even today we refuse to allow the reservations the autonomy they were promised by treaties made and broken over the past two hundred and some odd years. Attempts to assuage our guilt by allowing native Americans to open casinos on their lands is ludicrously inadequate.
I learned the Disney version of the history of interactions between European immigrants and native Americans more than twenty years ago. I have learned the considerably more horrifying truth of it mostly over the past ten years. Yet this understanding is essential to understanding just why many native Americans are extremely angry. For nearly three hundred years they have been subjected to the whims of mostly European settlers and their antecedents. Entire native cultures have been irretrievably destroyed, all others threatened nigh to extinction.
As the conquerors who wrote the history, we learn something less shameful than the reality. Our ancestors (those who have roots extending back) committed horrible atrocities, atrocities that many wanted to forget. What was passed through our generational progression was slowly changed to something far less egregious that it was. Making it easier to ignore much of the suffering this nation was founded upon and to ignore our continued subjugation of native Americans.
Native Americans have a generational progression as well. One that carries the scars of cuts hundreds of years old, given stark clarity by the wounds suffered by each generation since. Without understanding both our own history and the history if native Americans - a history that stretches for thousands of years before the arrival of Europeans, it is very difficult to understand the anger, the sensitivities of natives taking offense to things that most of us would otherwise consider trivial.
It is often important to understand other cultures, from the perspective of their history because it forces us to take a more objective view of their present. An excellent example given in the book is the role that history has played in black/white race relations in the U.S.
It is very easy to forget that our present and the present of others are ultimately the current culmination of what our ancestors passed down from generation to generation. This is both a progression of traditions and heritage, as well as the transmission of changes each generation made in the face of the perceived cultural failings.
Without the considering that this progression happens in every culture, it is all too easy to judge the cultural practices that we find distasteful in others from our own progression. While there is no question that regardless of the cultural context some cultural practices are absolutely repugnant, any attempt to foster change in those cultures must take into account the history that brought about those practices. When one can communicate from the context of this other culture and it's history, it creates a communication paradigm that this other culture will be far more receptive to.
I think a very good example of this, is the history of interactions between native Americans and the European settlers. Many of those of us who were educated in public schools were taught that the Europeans did really horrible things to the natives of this land. But what we were taught actually paints my ancestors in a much better light than they deserve. It is a lot like saying that Nazi Germany mistreated the Jews.
What actually happened was nothing less than a systematic attempt to entirely destroy the cultural heritage of all native Americans. From outright genocide, to removing children from their parents for re-education, often beating children who spoke their native languages or attempted to follow their spiritual heritage. Just 120 years ago, we still thought little of gunning down 200 natives. Just 37 years ago, intolerable conditions on a primarily Lakota reservation, led residents of that reservation to take over and occupy a small town, leading to a major standoff with federal officers.
And just 18 years ago, two native Americans lost their jobs and were denied unemployment benefits for having participated in a religious ceremony involving the ingestion of peyote. While many of us assume that the exploitation of native lands ended a long time ago, even today we refuse to allow the reservations the autonomy they were promised by treaties made and broken over the past two hundred and some odd years. Attempts to assuage our guilt by allowing native Americans to open casinos on their lands is ludicrously inadequate.
I learned the Disney version of the history of interactions between European immigrants and native Americans more than twenty years ago. I have learned the considerably more horrifying truth of it mostly over the past ten years. Yet this understanding is essential to understanding just why many native Americans are extremely angry. For nearly three hundred years they have been subjected to the whims of mostly European settlers and their antecedents. Entire native cultures have been irretrievably destroyed, all others threatened nigh to extinction.
As the conquerors who wrote the history, we learn something less shameful than the reality. Our ancestors (those who have roots extending back) committed horrible atrocities, atrocities that many wanted to forget. What was passed through our generational progression was slowly changed to something far less egregious that it was. Making it easier to ignore much of the suffering this nation was founded upon and to ignore our continued subjugation of native Americans.
Native Americans have a generational progression as well. One that carries the scars of cuts hundreds of years old, given stark clarity by the wounds suffered by each generation since. Without understanding both our own history and the history if native Americans - a history that stretches for thousands of years before the arrival of Europeans, it is very difficult to understand the anger, the sensitivities of natives taking offense to things that most of us would otherwise consider trivial.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
The problem of puppies...
Updated...
I am here for my first day of the new semester, a semester that is seeing more than a fifteen percent increase in enrollment over last year. It shows...
There a fucking puppies everywhere and a great many of them are complete fucking morons, absorbed so thoroughly in their own little bullshit that they simply can't be bothered by a semblance of common courtesy. I am looking forward to the next couple of weeks, wherein a substantial percentage of them will be getting the hell out of here and out of everyone elses way.
There are simply to many of them, for one thing. They are milling about, bewildered and confused - talking on cell phones while trying to find their next class - stopping abruptly midstream when they realize that their classroom was five doors or so back. And having the gall to be grumpy when the hapless victim of their stupidity right behind them walks into their dumbass.
Speaking of cell phones - bad enough are the fucking assholes who didn't turn their ringer off before class. We actually had a fucking jackass in my intro philosophy who answered the damned thing. Seriously... It is irritating enough that people feel the need to whisper to each other in class (though that was thankfully not much of an issue this morning) - is it too much to ask that you turn the fucking phone off? Is it unreasonable to consider yanking the fucking phone out of the moron's hand and throw it out a window?
Is it unreasonable to just walk right through the next fucking moron on their phone who stops abruptly in front of me, because they can't be bothered to, you know - pay fucking attention to where they are going?
Other than that, good day so far...
Update: And then, when I am leaving...
There is a HUGE stream of traffic and because of the way that things are laid out, it is not easy to move that much traffic out of there. Going towards the main entrance is extremely slow going. That and the fact that the back entrance is actually on the street I take home, is why I don't use it. So I was trying to get out of my aisle and go the opposite direction to everyone else - unfortunately, this means taking a left turn out of the aisle.
The people who were already on the strip heading out, were mostly being very reasonable. With few exceptions, everyone was letting one person out before they passed. Then I got to the end myself - with my left turn signal on, making sure they all know that I am not even trying to get in the same stream they are in. The person who was next on the strip got seriously pissed off when I cut in front of her to make my turn. Mind you, the traffic on that strip is going very slowly. The only place she could actually go, was in front of me, blocking me from getting out. And she would be sitting there for several moments before the line edged up again.
But I am a horrible fucking driver, because I insisted on making my left turn BEFORE she blocked the fucking aisle.
I am here for my first day of the new semester, a semester that is seeing more than a fifteen percent increase in enrollment over last year. It shows...
There a fucking puppies everywhere and a great many of them are complete fucking morons, absorbed so thoroughly in their own little bullshit that they simply can't be bothered by a semblance of common courtesy. I am looking forward to the next couple of weeks, wherein a substantial percentage of them will be getting the hell out of here and out of everyone elses way.
There are simply to many of them, for one thing. They are milling about, bewildered and confused - talking on cell phones while trying to find their next class - stopping abruptly midstream when they realize that their classroom was five doors or so back. And having the gall to be grumpy when the hapless victim of their stupidity right behind them walks into their dumbass.
Speaking of cell phones - bad enough are the fucking assholes who didn't turn their ringer off before class. We actually had a fucking jackass in my intro philosophy who answered the damned thing. Seriously... It is irritating enough that people feel the need to whisper to each other in class (though that was thankfully not much of an issue this morning) - is it too much to ask that you turn the fucking phone off? Is it unreasonable to consider yanking the fucking phone out of the moron's hand and throw it out a window?
Is it unreasonable to just walk right through the next fucking moron on their phone who stops abruptly in front of me, because they can't be bothered to, you know - pay fucking attention to where they are going?
Other than that, good day so far...
Update: And then, when I am leaving...
There is a HUGE stream of traffic and because of the way that things are laid out, it is not easy to move that much traffic out of there. Going towards the main entrance is extremely slow going. That and the fact that the back entrance is actually on the street I take home, is why I don't use it. So I was trying to get out of my aisle and go the opposite direction to everyone else - unfortunately, this means taking a left turn out of the aisle.
The people who were already on the strip heading out, were mostly being very reasonable. With few exceptions, everyone was letting one person out before they passed. Then I got to the end myself - with my left turn signal on, making sure they all know that I am not even trying to get in the same stream they are in. The person who was next on the strip got seriously pissed off when I cut in front of her to make my turn. Mind you, the traffic on that strip is going very slowly. The only place she could actually go, was in front of me, blocking me from getting out. And she would be sitting there for several moments before the line edged up again.
But I am a horrible fucking driver, because I insisted on making my left turn BEFORE she blocked the fucking aisle.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Because I love you all, I wanted to mention...
...that I am becoming increasingly busy, as the end of the summer semester approaches. I have a shitton of work to get finished and a week from today, I am picking up my boys from TN. I will still have two finals to take after they are here and lots of important, fun things to do with my kids - whom I only get for a very short, less than two week stretch. Then I will have a few days to take care of non-school type business (Like the job I have managed to somehow basically take over), before the absolute greatest women ever is coming to see me, for about a week.
So blogging is going to be lite - or should be. If it's not, please feel free to naggingly ask me if I have gotten ahead of the mountain of shit I have left to do. Not that I expect you to, it is after all my responsibility to put my work ahead of my infesting conversations with my big blue meanieness (really, really, mean and nasty, big blue meanieness)...But if you have the urge and notice I am being a little more obsessed with a argument than someone who has too many other things should be, feel free to point out my stupidity in being so obsessed right now....
See you all on the other side...
So blogging is going to be lite - or should be. If it's not, please feel free to naggingly ask me if I have gotten ahead of the mountain of shit I have left to do. Not that I expect you to, it is after all my responsibility to put my work ahead of my infesting conversations with my big blue meanieness (really, really, mean and nasty, big blue meanieness)...But if you have the urge and notice I am being a little more obsessed with a argument than someone who has too many other things should be, feel free to point out my stupidity in being so obsessed right now....
See you all on the other side...
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Summer Semester Has Begun...
...Albeit rather slowly. Two of my classes don't start until June 15th. I have begun my intro psych class and my health and fitness classes already, the latter ending in early July. Cultural anthropology and physical geography are the two that start in June. Having perused the books for the three less than stupid classes, I am looking forward to an interesting semester - if also a rather rapidly paced one.
I am looking to have one hella busy summer.
I am looking to have one hella busy summer.
Friday, February 6, 2009
A Writing Assignment.....
I have several other posts to try to get up, but this one takes a little precedence at the moment. I have to come up with a really good excuse for turning in a paper late. In the meantime, I would love to have you check out the great discussions over at Pieces of Me. In one, JLK talks about WTF she does, sparking a really interesting discussion in comments. In the other, she gives us part one of a series on gender, which if you read the comments from the first, you will discover is an issue that I am very enthusiastic about. I am ignoring part one, chapter 2 until I get this damned excuse written.
I will be writing the third part of my harm reduction series next, because I really really, need to stay focused on my research paper. But then I am going to write about gender (a hint, having a penis doesn't inherently make one's gender male and having a vagina, doesn't inherently make one's gender female). And if I have time, I am going to respond to someone who had the temerity to disagree with my views on pornography. Damn her, damn her to teh seven hells!!! (not really, dissent is not only welcome, but encouraged - I am just as fond of having my mind changed by compelling arguments and evidence, as I am of changing the minds of others)
But for now, please do me a favor. I want you to pretend you're a professor who has very strict rules about getting papers in on time (for some of you, pretending won't be necessary, I'm sure). Pretend also that I am your student and am committing the cardinal sin, normally deserving of a good flogging and public humiliation in the stocks - of trying to turn my paper in late. Would you accept this excuse?
Please be warned, naughty words in this post and hiding them has failed for the moment
Scenario:
DuWayne comes wandering into Dr. Whatzitz office, three days after the final paper was due. He is looking very shellshocked, recoiling in fear at every sudden, unexpected noise - no matter how mundane. His terror is palpable, almost contagious - Dr. Whatzitz finds herself glancing behind her, though she has no idea why.
Dr. Whatzitz: (too garbled to understand)
DuWayne: I'm s-s-sorry, b-b-but m-my ears are--I m-mean I c-c-can't hear so well....
Dr. Whatzitz: I said, what the hell are you doing here!?! Your paper is late and I don't accept late papers or lame damned excuses!!!
DuWayne (weeping): B-b-but.....
Dr. Whatzitz: But nothing dammit! I'm sure you think you have a perfectly reasonable excuse. But I've heard every damned one of them. Unless the bloody damned world was coming to an end, and only your pathetic, sniveling little ass could save it - shut the hell up and....
DuWayne (getting hysterical): AAARRRGGGHHH!!! (smashing his fists down on her desk and jumping up and down in primal rage/terror - smacks his head on her desk a couple times for good measure)
Dr. Whatzitz (backing up slowly, wishing to the god she wished existed at that particular moment, that she had a fucking panic button, like people who work in banks get - she puts her hands up in a gesture of surrender): Erg. Uh. But - I - think I could hear you out......
DuWayne (looking slightly dazed, a trickle of blood running down his face, from where his head smashed into a sharp bit of random floatsam on the desk - that had just been waiting for the moment someone had a nasty accident while smashing their head into the desk):Wheooh. (suddenly clarity falls across his face) Right. Sorry about that. It's just that I recently lost half my mind.
Dr. Whatzitz: You what!
DuWayne: Lost half my mind...Look, if you'll just let me explain...
Dr. Whatzitz (starting to look rather shellshocked herself):Ermm, go on...
DuWayne: Well apparently my gran was actually a prostitute once upon a time and..
Dr. Whatzitz: The hell?!?
DuWayne: Just let me explain dammit.
Dr. Whatzitz: Erg...
DuWayne: So as I was saying - gran used to be a prostitute and it turns out that gramps, well, gramps wasn't actually my grandad. Apparently, Winston Churchill was my biological grandfather. Amazing really, the things you discover when you're kidnapped by space Nazis.
Dr. Whatzitz: Space Nazis!!!
DuWayne (frantically looking around, whimpering and shaking - stops, shakes his head - smacks his head against a bookshelf a few times - couple of deep breaths): Yes, space Nazis. You see, when defeat was inevitable, a cohort of the third Reich implemented the super, extra-especially secret plan. They prepared the ships for departure, while a ninja SS officer made a daring run into The bunker and scraped up some cells from Hitler's remains. He barely made it in time. With Germany's surrender, the Allies were closing in rather quickly. But make it he did and the rockets blasted them off and up to their secret base on the dark side of the moon.
Once there, they got to work rebuilding the Reich [insert inappropriate representation of producing a new generation of Nazis] and creating a clone of das Fuhrer. Their first attempt at cloning apparently was a failure, as was their second - but finally, they made it work.
Dr. Wahtzitz: This is all very interesting, but I fail to see what the hell it has to do with your paper being late.
DuWayne: (getting agitated, picks up a red paperweight and smashes it on the floor) Dammit Dr. I'm Fuckingwell getting there. (Dr. Whatzitz really wishing for that damned panic button again)
Sorry. (calming down) I - just....I'm sorry.
Like I said, gran was a whore - I mean - shit. Winston Churchill was my biological grandfather. That means that I carry his DNA. And those damned space Nazis believe some prophecy that seems to say that either I'll thwart their plans or become the greatest flamenco dancer who ever lived - apparently the details of the prophecy are a little vague. But when they learned that I can't dance, they knew they had to stop me. Also according to their prophecy, if they kill me they're doomed.
So last week they kidnapped me, took me to their base in the moon and began sucking my mind out with this weird machine. But in the middle, the process was interrupted when I was rescued. I got some help getting some of my mind back, but the machine was damaged during the rescue and counterattack.
Dr. Whatzitz: Counterattack?!?
DuWayne: Yeah. Funny thing that. Apparently when the Nazis started sucking my mind out, something clicked in my head and the Rabbis knew it was time to attack, that victory was at hand.
Dr. Whatzitz: Rabbis?!?
DuWayne: Oh shit. Yeah. The guys that rescued me? They were the most remarkably technologically advanced Jewish sect. They claim they saw the writing on the wall way back, more than two thousand years ago. They claim that when Moses brought down the ten commandments, he brought with him the plans for the most remarkable fucking space crafts. Then just a few years before that Jesus character was born, their god told them to build according to those plans. They've been living on a moon of Jupiter ever since - just waiting for me to come along and get kidnapped by the fucking space Nazis.
Then they saved me and whatever was locked in my Winston Churchill DNA made this special weapon they had actually turn on. It was kind of like... Look, have you ever seen Stargate Alantis?
Dr. Whatzitz (looking rather uncomfortable): Umm. No, of course not. I don't watch silly sciencefiction about other galaxies and, umm. No, nope, never seen it.
DuWayne: Ok, well basically, when I walked up to this machine, it just turned on. The Rabbis think that maybe Winston Churchill's anscestors, and mine, were actually aliens. They figure these aliens could see the future - or maybe they just assumed that somewhere along the line it would be necessary. So they decided to use the Jews, because they figured the Jews were pretty hardcore - determined. That they would be the perfect folks to put in charge of this weapon.
So, umm, anywho.... I finally managed to finish the paper. It was really tough, what with the problems with my mind and all. But dammit. I mean come on, it turns out that I really was out there saving the world and all that shit. Can I please, possibly turn it in a little late. I mean I really had no control over it. It's not my fault that gran was a.... I mean Winston Churchill was my biological grandad.
Dr. Whatzitz:.....
What say you? Leave a comment, letting me know if my excuse would sway even your hardened heart.
I will be writing the third part of my harm reduction series next, because I really really, need to stay focused on my research paper. But then I am going to write about gender (a hint, having a penis doesn't inherently make one's gender male and having a vagina, doesn't inherently make one's gender female). And if I have time, I am going to respond to someone who had the temerity to disagree with my views on pornography. Damn her, damn her to teh seven hells!!! (not really, dissent is not only welcome, but encouraged - I am just as fond of having my mind changed by compelling arguments and evidence, as I am of changing the minds of others)
But for now, please do me a favor. I want you to pretend you're a professor who has very strict rules about getting papers in on time (for some of you, pretending won't be necessary, I'm sure). Pretend also that I am your student and am committing the cardinal sin, normally deserving of a good flogging and public humiliation in the stocks - of trying to turn my paper in late. Would you accept this excuse?
Please be warned, naughty words in this post and hiding them has failed for the moment
Scenario:
DuWayne comes wandering into Dr. Whatzitz office, three days after the final paper was due. He is looking very shellshocked, recoiling in fear at every sudden, unexpected noise - no matter how mundane. His terror is palpable, almost contagious - Dr. Whatzitz finds herself glancing behind her, though she has no idea why.
Dr. Whatzitz: (too garbled to understand)
DuWayne: I'm s-s-sorry, b-b-but m-my ears are--I m-mean I c-c-can't hear so well....
Dr. Whatzitz: I said, what the hell are you doing here!?! Your paper is late and I don't accept late papers or lame damned excuses!!!
DuWayne (weeping): B-b-but.....
Dr. Whatzitz: But nothing dammit! I'm sure you think you have a perfectly reasonable excuse. But I've heard every damned one of them. Unless the bloody damned world was coming to an end, and only your pathetic, sniveling little ass could save it - shut the hell up and....
DuWayne (getting hysterical): AAARRRGGGHHH!!! (smashing his fists down on her desk and jumping up and down in primal rage/terror - smacks his head on her desk a couple times for good measure)
Dr. Whatzitz (backing up slowly, wishing to the god she wished existed at that particular moment, that she had a fucking panic button, like people who work in banks get - she puts her hands up in a gesture of surrender): Erg. Uh. But - I - think I could hear you out......
DuWayne (looking slightly dazed, a trickle of blood running down his face, from where his head smashed into a sharp bit of random floatsam on the desk - that had just been waiting for the moment someone had a nasty accident while smashing their head into the desk):Wheooh. (suddenly clarity falls across his face) Right. Sorry about that. It's just that I recently lost half my mind.
Dr. Whatzitz: You what!
DuWayne: Lost half my mind...Look, if you'll just let me explain...
Dr. Whatzitz (starting to look rather shellshocked herself):Ermm, go on...
DuWayne: Well apparently my gran was actually a prostitute once upon a time and..
Dr. Whatzitz: The hell?!?
DuWayne: Just let me explain dammit.
Dr. Whatzitz: Erg...
DuWayne: So as I was saying - gran used to be a prostitute and it turns out that gramps, well, gramps wasn't actually my grandad. Apparently, Winston Churchill was my biological grandfather. Amazing really, the things you discover when you're kidnapped by space Nazis.
Dr. Whatzitz: Space Nazis!!!
DuWayne (frantically looking around, whimpering and shaking - stops, shakes his head - smacks his head against a bookshelf a few times - couple of deep breaths): Yes, space Nazis. You see, when defeat was inevitable, a cohort of the third Reich implemented the super, extra-especially secret plan. They prepared the ships for departure, while a ninja SS officer made a daring run into The bunker and scraped up some cells from Hitler's remains. He barely made it in time. With Germany's surrender, the Allies were closing in rather quickly. But make it he did and the rockets blasted them off and up to their secret base on the dark side of the moon.
Once there, they got to work rebuilding the Reich [insert inappropriate representation of producing a new generation of Nazis] and creating a clone of das Fuhrer. Their first attempt at cloning apparently was a failure, as was their second - but finally, they made it work.
Dr. Wahtzitz: This is all very interesting, but I fail to see what the hell it has to do with your paper being late.
DuWayne: (getting agitated, picks up a red paperweight and smashes it on the floor) Dammit Dr. I'm Fuckingwell getting there. (Dr. Whatzitz really wishing for that damned panic button again)
Sorry. (calming down) I - just....I'm sorry.
Like I said, gran was a whore - I mean - shit. Winston Churchill was my biological grandfather. That means that I carry his DNA. And those damned space Nazis believe some prophecy that seems to say that either I'll thwart their plans or become the greatest flamenco dancer who ever lived - apparently the details of the prophecy are a little vague. But when they learned that I can't dance, they knew they had to stop me. Also according to their prophecy, if they kill me they're doomed.
So last week they kidnapped me, took me to their base in the moon and began sucking my mind out with this weird machine. But in the middle, the process was interrupted when I was rescued. I got some help getting some of my mind back, but the machine was damaged during the rescue and counterattack.
Dr. Whatzitz: Counterattack?!?
DuWayne: Yeah. Funny thing that. Apparently when the Nazis started sucking my mind out, something clicked in my head and the Rabbis knew it was time to attack, that victory was at hand.
Dr. Whatzitz: Rabbis?!?
DuWayne: Oh shit. Yeah. The guys that rescued me? They were the most remarkably technologically advanced Jewish sect. They claim they saw the writing on the wall way back, more than two thousand years ago. They claim that when Moses brought down the ten commandments, he brought with him the plans for the most remarkable fucking space crafts. Then just a few years before that Jesus character was born, their god told them to build according to those plans. They've been living on a moon of Jupiter ever since - just waiting for me to come along and get kidnapped by the fucking space Nazis.
Then they saved me and whatever was locked in my Winston Churchill DNA made this special weapon they had actually turn on. It was kind of like... Look, have you ever seen Stargate Alantis?
Dr. Whatzitz (looking rather uncomfortable): Umm. No, of course not. I don't watch silly sciencefiction about other galaxies and, umm. No, nope, never seen it.
DuWayne: Ok, well basically, when I walked up to this machine, it just turned on. The Rabbis think that maybe Winston Churchill's anscestors, and mine, were actually aliens. They figure these aliens could see the future - or maybe they just assumed that somewhere along the line it would be necessary. So they decided to use the Jews, because they figured the Jews were pretty hardcore - determined. That they would be the perfect folks to put in charge of this weapon.
So, umm, anywho.... I finally managed to finish the paper. It was really tough, what with the problems with my mind and all. But dammit. I mean come on, it turns out that I really was out there saving the world and all that shit. Can I please, possibly turn it in a little late. I mean I really had no control over it. It's not my fault that gran was a.... I mean Winston Churchill was my biological grandad.
Dr. Whatzitz:.....
What say you? Leave a comment, letting me know if my excuse would sway even your hardened heart.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
An Open Letter to Graham Lawton
Mr. Lawton is a print journalist for the magazine The New Scientist. He has rather pissed off several science bloggers with his sensationalist cover story; Darwin Was Wrong. While he has found some support from folks in the "intelligent design" movement, actual scientists and science bloggers have gotten a little bit pissed off with him.
You seem to have a very bad attitude about blogs and an overinflated notion of your impact as a print journalist. Let me talk a little about the impact of blogs and science blogs in particular, on my own life.
You seem to have a very bad attitude about blogs and an overinflated notion of your impact as a print journalist. Let me talk a little about the impact of blogs and science blogs in particular, on my own life.
I'm a thirty two year old high school dropout. Not because I'm stupid, but because I have a whole host of problems that brought me to this point in my life. I'm actually a rather bright fellow, with a wide range of interests that I tend to be rather well informed about. One of the biggest challenges I've faced, while trying to get back to school; I didn't know what I wanted to do.
A few years ago I discovered the blogosphere. Not terribly long after that, I discovered science bloggers. Joy of joys, I discovered that I could not only learn something, I could get involved in the conversation. And nobody cared about my educational background. As long as I was basing my own assertions on evidence, I was accepted as a valuable contributor to the conversation. Even better, I suddenly had some access to people with relevant background in fields that really interest me (even Bora here, was kind enough to answer some of my questions way back).
I had questions about genetics, a Phd geneticist was happy to take the time to answer. I had questions about drug interactions, a professor of pharmacology could help. I had questions about the workings of the human brain, there's a neurologist positively thrilled I was interested. I wanted to discuss addiction, there's an NIH funded addiction researcher glad I provided the insights of someone with substance abuse issues.
And now I'm in school and I have a direction. I'm in a position to incorporate several fields of interest, into a degree that will place me into a position to have a positive impact on my community and society. And I have the support and validation of a host of academics, some of whom are as excited as I am that I've begun this journey. People who have emailed me, to make sure that I know that they are a resource I have at my disposal. The same people who fostered discussions that helped me find my direction, also feel some compulsion to help me succeed.
What I have gotten out of a few years in the blogosphere and have every reason to expect I will continue to get, is something that just doesn't exist with print journalism. Not to say that it doesn't have it's place, but ours is a brave new world that values discussion over dictation, interaction over awe for the author's grasp of a concept. And above all, truth over sensationalism. Which is not to say that sensationalism doesn't have it's place, we're all human after all. But when the sensational takes precedence over honesty, folks will crawl out of the woodwork with the truth of things.
And it is more than truth, it's perception of truth. Your cover story chose the sensational over a reasonable perception of the truth. In a time when science has been under heavy fire from the forces of ignorance and darkness (and while the UK is doing better than my own nation, the difference is one of degree, not the problem itself), you just provided them with more fodder to attack reason.
And lest you find yourself pretending the internet forgets, just google society of homeopathy, or truth homeopathic. The latter won't get you as many critical hits as the former, but there I am at number two, for a post I wrote fifteen months ago. Google the former and you will discover why the UK's Society of Homeopathy probably regrets using a bullshit lawsuit threat, to silence criticism of homeopathy. Here's a hint; if you try to google them to find their site, you have to get through a couple pages of pieces on them, most of which post the article that offended them to the point of lawsuit.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
My first Research Paper
I was a bit nervous about it, because I found out that we do have some restrictions on the paper. Mainly that the first one has to be a MLA format paper. Given that my topics tend towards being rather science oriented, I wasn't sure I could get them to fly. But my instructor told me today that writing about addiction was going to be fine. I made it clear that there would be a fair amount of science involved, but as I can focus it on our social and political addiction paradigm, she let it slide. I think it helped that I have an interesting take on it.
So now I am going to work on my topic proposal and start throwing myself into more formal research. So the posting may get a little more sporadic and will probably tend towards a definite theme, as my reading material gets more focused.
The major upshot of it is, this is going to be a theme throughout my education. While I am sure that as an undergrad, I will be required to right a lot of class specific papers, this will be the early and short version of writing that will be revisited several times over the next several years. It will be especially relevant when I get my undergrad and move upward from here. I think it will be interesting to compare this paper to the versions that will come out towards the final stretch of my education. I suspect that in the middle, it will get far heavier on the science. I also suspect that (unless I drastically change gears somewhere) that my final dissertation will come full circle to a much longer version of the paper I am about to write, tempered by the next several years of intensive, formal education.
So now I am going to work on my topic proposal and start throwing myself into more formal research. So the posting may get a little more sporadic and will probably tend towards a definite theme, as my reading material gets more focused.
The major upshot of it is, this is going to be a theme throughout my education. While I am sure that as an undergrad, I will be required to right a lot of class specific papers, this will be the early and short version of writing that will be revisited several times over the next several years. It will be especially relevant when I get my undergrad and move upward from here. I think it will be interesting to compare this paper to the versions that will come out towards the final stretch of my education. I suspect that in the middle, it will get far heavier on the science. I also suspect that (unless I drastically change gears somewhere) that my final dissertation will come full circle to a much longer version of the paper I am about to write, tempered by the next several years of intensive, formal education.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
In which I Discuss Student Stuff......
For the few folks reading this who may not be aware, I have recently re-embarked on my educational journey - becoming a formal student for the first time since I dropped out of high school sixteen years ago. As part of this journey, I am taking several classes that are prerequisites required to complete the program I am taking. I intend on discussing some of those classes here, because one, I'm spending a hella lot of time in them and two, because some of the things I am studying are relevant to discussions I am trying to foster here.
One of the ideas I am tossing around, is posting some of the papers I am writing at any given point. For the most part they will tend to be papers on topics that I am rather interested in, given that I am embarking on a course of study that I find interesting. At the moment, I am taking a college writing and research class and have managed to get an instructor who is allowing me to pick the topics I write will have to write two major papers on. And this is where you, my readers can come into my world.
I would like to know what you think I should pick as a first topic. I was originally thinking I would write a paper on harm reduction and a new addiction paradigm, but the recent discussion about eugenics (knowing that I am going to spend a fair amount of time researching and blogging about it) has led me to consider writing the paper on eugenics. And of course there is literally a world full of other topics to consider. I am definitely going to keep the topic within the realm of science, either psychology, neurology or genetics. But within those categories are a whole lot of options. So please weigh in. What would you like to see me write about? Given the same assignment, what would you choose as a topic? If you were restricted by the parameters I mentioned, what would you choose?
Also, would it be silly to post papers? I promise they will be nearly as edge of your seat exciting as the breathtakingly thrilling posts I write. Or more to the point, they will be no more boring than the sorts of stuff I write already. They will be longer though. Probably quite a bit longer. And it has been pointed out to me before, that I am certainly not going to gain a reputation in the blogosphere for my brevity.
I know most of the people reading have spent far more time in school in recent years than I have (especially those of you who are profs) and probably have more recent experience with this sort of thing. And now that I mention it, if you happen to be a prof, feel free to tell me what you like, or don't like to see in a paper. (And in case any of my profs stop by) Did I mention that I have the most remarkable and stimulating instructors ever?
I will probably soon be posting my first paper, in which I discuss;
Oh, and I am also hoping to get back into talking about talking to our kids about drugs. And sex. And other dangerous things. Keeping in mind that mine are one and seven and that we started the discussion with the seven year old, three years ago (albeit in a very general fashion). If this is an interest to anyone, please feel free to pressure me to hit on it sooner than later....
One of the ideas I am tossing around, is posting some of the papers I am writing at any given point. For the most part they will tend to be papers on topics that I am rather interested in, given that I am embarking on a course of study that I find interesting. At the moment, I am taking a college writing and research class and have managed to get an instructor who is allowing me to pick the topics I write will have to write two major papers on. And this is where you, my readers can come into my world.
I would like to know what you think I should pick as a first topic. I was originally thinking I would write a paper on harm reduction and a new addiction paradigm, but the recent discussion about eugenics (knowing that I am going to spend a fair amount of time researching and blogging about it) has led me to consider writing the paper on eugenics. And of course there is literally a world full of other topics to consider. I am definitely going to keep the topic within the realm of science, either psychology, neurology or genetics. But within those categories are a whole lot of options. So please weigh in. What would you like to see me write about? Given the same assignment, what would you choose as a topic? If you were restricted by the parameters I mentioned, what would you choose?
Also, would it be silly to post papers? I promise they will be nearly as edge of your seat exciting as the breathtakingly thrilling posts I write. Or more to the point, they will be no more boring than the sorts of stuff I write already. They will be longer though. Probably quite a bit longer. And it has been pointed out to me before, that I am certainly not going to gain a reputation in the blogosphere for my brevity.
I know most of the people reading have spent far more time in school in recent years than I have (especially those of you who are profs) and probably have more recent experience with this sort of thing. And now that I mention it, if you happen to be a prof, feel free to tell me what you like, or don't like to see in a paper. (And in case any of my profs stop by) Did I mention that I have the most remarkable and stimulating instructors ever?
I will probably soon be posting my first paper, in which I discuss;
To learn to think is to learn to question. Discuss a matter that you once thought that you knew "for sure" that you have now begun to question.When reasonably possible, I will also try to bring into the discussion here, the things I am studying in school. Coincidentally, the discussion about eugenics and where it has gone thus far, in my humanities class today, we watched a video that I have seen before, from the Genographic project, something that my dad has taken part in and something I would take part in if I could afford to. Unfortunately the whole eating and not living in a box thing makes that impossible at the moment. But be assured, I am going to get around to blogging about it, in relation to our discussion on eugenics. I actually have had the video from today in mind since this conversation came up again.
Oh, and I am also hoping to get back into talking about talking to our kids about drugs. And sex. And other dangerous things. Keeping in mind that mine are one and seven and that we started the discussion with the seven year old, three years ago (albeit in a very general fashion). If this is an interest to anyone, please feel free to pressure me to hit on it sooner than later....
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