This has been a very good year for me. I might go so far as to say it's been the best year ever. That honor previously belonged to 2006 (the first half of it anyway) when I was in Sweden; the rest of 2006 wasn't as spectacular. This year, however, has been consistently good for me. Let's review, shall we? (in a hopefully not too self-indulgent way) January began the last semester at the U of A, I became the Anthropology Club Treasurer and I became a member of the Golden Key Honor Society. I applied for grad school at UMass (the university I wanted the most) and got accepted in February, they were the first to respond so the rejection letters from the other universities didn't sting at all (I also later found out I was among twelve out of 110 or so applicants to get accepted). In March I go to Sweden for Spring Break and see my old friends in Uppsala again. In May I became a member of Phi Beta Kappa Honor Society, finished my Honor's Thesis and completed an honor's contract course thus enabling me to graduate with Honors from the U of A (as well as Magna Cum Laude). My dear friend Stephanie flew in for my graduation and a marvelous time was had by all. I got a summer job doing the least demanding and highest paying job I've ever had and caught up on my reading list in the process. I took dance lessons for a couple months and learned how to waltz, tango, foxtrot, salsa, cha-cha, rumba and East Coast swing. I celebrate the 4th of July in Vegas with my friends.
In September I move out to Amherst and have an absolute blast with all the international students. I got into the European Field Studies program, something unusual for first year grad students and something one must be vetted for before they let you in. I discovered the quirkiness of neighboring Northampton and the...educational experiences at Smith College. I started doing parkour (though had to quit after a month and a half due to mangling my wrists while trying to impress my parents) and learned a bunch of new conditioning exercises. Under the exacting tutelage of my adviser I produce a research proposal that is given funding (more than we were initially told) as well as the full $1000 from Sigma Xi.
In about a month and a half, the plan that I have been working towards for a year will begin to unfold. For an entire year, though a combination of my own ability, knowing the right people and just plain good luck, everything that I have set my mind to achieving I have accomplished with greater success than I had ever planned on. I'm forging my destiny, building my life, making it happen. Every selection process, from honors societies to grad school application, course vetting to research funding, every one of these successes has been the result of someone thinking I'm smart enough, clever enough, good enough to take a chance on.Now all I need to do is prove I can get results. That's what 2009 is for.
Yes we can, indeed.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
"But Charlie, don't forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he he always wanted."
For those of you who haven't been kept apprised of the details of my fortunes at UMass, here's a very pleasant update. The European Field Studies Program is the primary reason I came here for grad school; it gives students the opportunity to write a research proposal and at the end of the semester present it to a committee that decides whether it's good enough and if it is, they receive funding to do fieldwork in the European country of their choosing. Mine is on immigrant integration in Sweden. I want to study how Swedes perceive the large number of foreign born living in their country as well as see how immigrant populations are being assimilated into society. We gave our oral presentations to the anthropology faculty last Monday and we were all told how good they were, one of my professors said they thought that mine was the best in terms of calmness and pace of the presentation itself (being a theatre major turned out to be applicable after all!).
On Friday, after the committee met and looked over all our written proposals, we found out that all five of our projects had been approved for funding. We got written feedback from the committee, who had suggested changes for all of our proposals, and they said that my design needed to be changed because it was too ambitious. I'm not bothered by that at all; it's far better to be told you're too ambitious than not ambitious enough, plus that means that I will have to do less work than I originally planned. My professor said that because my proposal had tried to cover too much too quickly, I should focus on one aspect of it (they said it was up to me but they're strongly hinting at working the Swedish perspective) and the other half shelf until I write my dissertation. She also said that because there was very little research being done in Sweden I may have found a niche that I can work with for the rest of my life. That's really good. Especially considering that that's what I told UMass in my application but once I started this project I found that it wasn't exactly completely untrodden territory and thought perhaps I had spoken out of ignorance. Turns out here are still some rather big unanswered questions concerning Swedes and immigrants.
But wait, there's more! The EFS committee managed to scrounge up some additional funds for each of us and we are now all guaranteed $4000 for our trip. I was also told yesterday that the grant that we all applied for, Sigma Xi, was being awarded to two of us: myself and a physical anthropologist going to London. I had completely written off getting that grant; we wrote up the proposals back in October and they were rushed, vague and effectively the first draft of what is now an 18 page research proposal. I kept saying that I have every confidence I'll get the thing where it needs to be by December, but not a chance by October. Not only did I get it in spite of the normal fierce competition, but the economic crisis meant that Sigma Xi had even less money to give out than usual. I don't know yet how much money they will award me, but it may be up to $1000. I also was told that the retreat planned for next semester where we would all meet in France to discuss the progress of our respective projects is almost certain to be cancelled. Though disappointing in one sense, it means I can shave about $330 off my budget. This, combined with the dropping value of the Swedish krona, means that my expenses keep going down, my funding keeps going up and the money I have will take me even further than normal.
Going to Sweden to do my first real fieldwork has been my dream for nearly a year now, and to have it come to fruition, and have everything fall into place in ways that have exceeded my expectations... yeah, it's a good feeling.
On Friday, after the committee met and looked over all our written proposals, we found out that all five of our projects had been approved for funding. We got written feedback from the committee, who had suggested changes for all of our proposals, and they said that my design needed to be changed because it was too ambitious. I'm not bothered by that at all; it's far better to be told you're too ambitious than not ambitious enough, plus that means that I will have to do less work than I originally planned. My professor said that because my proposal had tried to cover too much too quickly, I should focus on one aspect of it (they said it was up to me but they're strongly hinting at working the Swedish perspective) and the other half shelf until I write my dissertation. She also said that because there was very little research being done in Sweden I may have found a niche that I can work with for the rest of my life. That's really good. Especially considering that that's what I told UMass in my application but once I started this project I found that it wasn't exactly completely untrodden territory and thought perhaps I had spoken out of ignorance. Turns out here are still some rather big unanswered questions concerning Swedes and immigrants.
But wait, there's more! The EFS committee managed to scrounge up some additional funds for each of us and we are now all guaranteed $4000 for our trip. I was also told yesterday that the grant that we all applied for, Sigma Xi, was being awarded to two of us: myself and a physical anthropologist going to London. I had completely written off getting that grant; we wrote up the proposals back in October and they were rushed, vague and effectively the first draft of what is now an 18 page research proposal. I kept saying that I have every confidence I'll get the thing where it needs to be by December, but not a chance by October. Not only did I get it in spite of the normal fierce competition, but the economic crisis meant that Sigma Xi had even less money to give out than usual. I don't know yet how much money they will award me, but it may be up to $1000. I also was told that the retreat planned for next semester where we would all meet in France to discuss the progress of our respective projects is almost certain to be cancelled. Though disappointing in one sense, it means I can shave about $330 off my budget. This, combined with the dropping value of the Swedish krona, means that my expenses keep going down, my funding keeps going up and the money I have will take me even further than normal.
Going to Sweden to do my first real fieldwork has been my dream for nearly a year now, and to have it come to fruition, and have everything fall into place in ways that have exceeded my expectations... yeah, it's a good feeling.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Foreign Devils!
International students make life so much more interesting. Aside from the obvious benefit of them constantly wanting to party there's the benefit of learning how people think and do things differently. Things like how everyone except Americans seem to say something before they eat, like "bon appetit" or "guten appetit". It's the food equivalent of "cheers" I suppose. They are puzzled why we don't say anything and the closest they can come up with is "enjoy your meal" which I would only say if I were the one serving the food.
On the topic of food, the Europeans will still give me crap for how difficult it is to eat healthy here in the US because everything is bad for you. Since their point of reference is the dining hall and not the UofA food court, they're full of it. You get pasta, Asian noodles, soup, salad, vegetarian options, sandwiches, wraps as well as french fries, hot dogs, pizza and hamburgers. I see the Danes going back to get some hamburgers after a salad and lamenting how bad they are for you. Or the Swedish girls saying (adorably), "I am so weak for sweeties!" as they sneak a few cookies back to their room. The reason that it's hard for them to eat healthy is that we have a wide variety of food here and our desserts are delicious—they have healthy options but they go for the more flavorful ones. Just because we have the most delicious food and they are powerless to resist it doesn't mean that it's our fault that they don't eat right. There's a perfectly flavorless bin of granola they could help themselves too if they really wanted to...
Another peculiarity I've learned only recently is that the Germans actually believe that it's not cheating if you don't get caught. One student was telling me how astonished he was that during an exam the professor walked out of the room and nobody started talking! In Germany, he says, everyone would start asking their neighbor for answers and pull out their notebooks to find an answer. I was unable to explain to them how copying your neighbor's answers on a test is cheating, though the guy who was in the class and cheated by pulling out his textbook said I made him feel guilty since he didn't know it was such a bad thing here. So once and future teachers, make damn sure you spell out the bit about academic integrity at the beginning of the semester.
I'm also being introduced to some strange German colloquialisms. For example, if someone is being a smart ass the Germans would say "he showered with a clown this morning" or "he had a clown for breakfast." Both of these images are rather disturbing: I'm imagining standing on one side of the shower shampooing my hair while a clown (not naked, thankfully) is just standing there on the opposite side staring at you with a big painted smile. Then there are the things that the Germans are at a loss for describing in English and come up with some downright hilarious new words. The soda machine becomes the "Coke ATM" and the juice machine is the "juice cow". I don't mean to make fun of them, anyone who has lived in a foreign country has done stuff like that (like me referring to clouds as "the white things in the sky" in Swedish), but they're just too good to forget. And let us not forget the priceless accent mixups, such as a Frenchman explaining to us how great some car is–it even has laser (leather) seats! Or my roommate Chorch from Churmany who plays the chass trumpet. I try to correct them when I can, they're my friends after all and I don't want them to make a fool of themselves at some big executive meeting when they're out in the real world. But they rarely make the corrections and so, much to my amusement, I will still hear the stereotypical Swedish exchange student declare, "I'm so weak for sweeties!"
On the topic of food, the Europeans will still give me crap for how difficult it is to eat healthy here in the US because everything is bad for you. Since their point of reference is the dining hall and not the UofA food court, they're full of it. You get pasta, Asian noodles, soup, salad, vegetarian options, sandwiches, wraps as well as french fries, hot dogs, pizza and hamburgers. I see the Danes going back to get some hamburgers after a salad and lamenting how bad they are for you. Or the Swedish girls saying (adorably), "I am so weak for sweeties!" as they sneak a few cookies back to their room. The reason that it's hard for them to eat healthy is that we have a wide variety of food here and our desserts are delicious—they have healthy options but they go for the more flavorful ones. Just because we have the most delicious food and they are powerless to resist it doesn't mean that it's our fault that they don't eat right. There's a perfectly flavorless bin of granola they could help themselves too if they really wanted to...
Another peculiarity I've learned only recently is that the Germans actually believe that it's not cheating if you don't get caught. One student was telling me how astonished he was that during an exam the professor walked out of the room and nobody started talking! In Germany, he says, everyone would start asking their neighbor for answers and pull out their notebooks to find an answer. I was unable to explain to them how copying your neighbor's answers on a test is cheating, though the guy who was in the class and cheated by pulling out his textbook said I made him feel guilty since he didn't know it was such a bad thing here. So once and future teachers, make damn sure you spell out the bit about academic integrity at the beginning of the semester.
I'm also being introduced to some strange German colloquialisms. For example, if someone is being a smart ass the Germans would say "he showered with a clown this morning" or "he had a clown for breakfast." Both of these images are rather disturbing: I'm imagining standing on one side of the shower shampooing my hair while a clown (not naked, thankfully) is just standing there on the opposite side staring at you with a big painted smile. Then there are the things that the Germans are at a loss for describing in English and come up with some downright hilarious new words. The soda machine becomes the "Coke ATM" and the juice machine is the "juice cow". I don't mean to make fun of them, anyone who has lived in a foreign country has done stuff like that (like me referring to clouds as "the white things in the sky" in Swedish), but they're just too good to forget. And let us not forget the priceless accent mixups, such as a Frenchman explaining to us how great some car is–it even has laser (leather) seats! Or my roommate Chorch from Churmany who plays the chass trumpet. I try to correct them when I can, they're my friends after all and I don't want them to make a fool of themselves at some big executive meeting when they're out in the real world. But they rarely make the corrections and so, much to my amusement, I will still hear the stereotypical Swedish exchange student declare, "I'm so weak for sweeties!"
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Remember, Remember the Fourth of November
Barack Obama won the election and for the first time in at least 8 years, if not ever, I am filled with joy, optimism and of course, hope for the future of the US. All of the international students were wondering yesterday afternoon when we would find out who won the election and I told them depending on how the results go, we might know tonight or tomorrow morning. I must admit I did not think the results would be known so soon and so when everyone else was going to the bars to celebrate I stayed in, pretending to read while I watched the map fill with red and blue. I then decided to play a game to get my mind off the election since I didn't think there was any purpose in worrying the entire night who would win. Not a half hour later I hear people screaming and cheering outside "OBAMA!" I didn't make much of it at first, "Let's not count our chickens before they hatch," I thought. But the few voices outside grew into a raucous crowd, I looked out the window and saw people dancing in the street and cheering from their open windows. I checked my computer and sure enough the headline read "American Elects First Black President". And that's when it really hit me: it happened, we the people brought about real change through our vote.
I quickly assembled a group of friends to rush to the bar downtown to celebrate. On the way there I asked them if there was ever this much enthusiasm and excitement, honking horns, people cheering and dancing after an election in their country. The Europeans said the only time they see things like that is when they win the World Cup. The South African girl said that she had only seen it once before: when Nelson Mandela was elected. We got to the bar just in time for Obama's acceptance speech. Where the bar had once been loud and full of boisterous cheer, a sudden silence fell over the crowd as we listened to Obama's speech. Applause rang out as he delivered his words and vanished in a hushed awe when he spoke again.
I was personally touched by Obama's speech because his words reminded me of something my mother used to say. She told me that when she was little, when she was frustrated trying to do something and she would cry out "I can't!", her father would tell her that as an American (and not an American't) yes, she could. And so for me Barack Obama spoke the words of a heroic grandfather I never knew when he told America "Yes, we can!"
For me, the change Obama promised came the moment he was elected. When we got to the bar and got our drinks, the crowd of internationals already there greeted me with handshakes, toasts and "Congratulations." Congratulations, for just being an American. That's an amazing feeling. I have never stopped being proud of being an American, there's just too much to be proud of for even Bush to have undone that, but it's good to be appreciated by the world again. Everything seems so much brighter now, even the many patriotic songs being played by the UMass marching band that are coming through my window seem fresh and inspiring, like they were when I first learned them in grade school. Simply amazing...
I quickly assembled a group of friends to rush to the bar downtown to celebrate. On the way there I asked them if there was ever this much enthusiasm and excitement, honking horns, people cheering and dancing after an election in their country. The Europeans said the only time they see things like that is when they win the World Cup. The South African girl said that she had only seen it once before: when Nelson Mandela was elected. We got to the bar just in time for Obama's acceptance speech. Where the bar had once been loud and full of boisterous cheer, a sudden silence fell over the crowd as we listened to Obama's speech. Applause rang out as he delivered his words and vanished in a hushed awe when he spoke again.
I was personally touched by Obama's speech because his words reminded me of something my mother used to say. She told me that when she was little, when she was frustrated trying to do something and she would cry out "I can't!", her father would tell her that as an American (and not an American't) yes, she could. And so for me Barack Obama spoke the words of a heroic grandfather I never knew when he told America "Yes, we can!"
For me, the change Obama promised came the moment he was elected. When we got to the bar and got our drinks, the crowd of internationals already there greeted me with handshakes, toasts and "Congratulations." Congratulations, for just being an American. That's an amazing feeling. I have never stopped being proud of being an American, there's just too much to be proud of for even Bush to have undone that, but it's good to be appreciated by the world again. Everything seems so much brighter now, even the many patriotic songs being played by the UMass marching band that are coming through my window seem fresh and inspiring, like they were when I first learned them in grade school. Simply amazing...
Friday, October 24, 2008
LYKKE LI!
I went to go see Lykke Li in Boston last night, something I've been looking forward to for months. And I was not disappointed in the least. I tried to recruit people to go with me but nobody that gave me an answer could go (and those that did want to go never got back to me) so I did feel a little weird being there by myself, but I wasn't about to miss her concert on account of that. Her performance was outstanding, a lot of good energy and she could definitely work the crowd. She also rocked out with her signature bull horn; I dunno where she got the idea for that but it really works. Somehow she managed to make my least favorite of her songs ("Let It Fall" a song about how she enjoys crying) a pounding rock out version. Though she also did this really strange thing with one of my very favorite songs ("Complaint Department" an exquisitely concieved musical middle finger) where she altered her voice to make it this male demon voice. I like her voice a lot so I thought it took away from the song somewhat. Though in a thinly veiled irony, I can't complain—she's not the complaint department.
This was perhaps the first concert I've been to where I have been really into the artist. I mean Pinback is nice, as are Smashing Pumpkins and Jimmy Eat World but I was never a huge, huge fan of them. This was different, and so I now understand people's enthusiasm with concerts a lot more. It was also a new thing for me that I knew every song she played, and knew that she wasn't done because she hadn't sang them all yet. She also did some really good covers, Wendy Rene's "After laughter comes tears" and a hip hop song whose name escapes me.
After the last song, and after her plugging her merchandise, everyone was heading out and as we all filed past the table selling albums and t-shirts I look over and there she was! She was personally selling the stuff and signing autographs (very patiently I might add since people had to open the plastic wrapping of the LPs they wanted signed). Since I had already bought her album way back before it was available in the US, I just bought a pin and very politely asked her to sign my ticket. I had sort of planned to say something in Swedish to her, like "Var trevligt att träffas" or even just "Tack" but I was too starstruck. And having seen her up close I can say with absolute certainty that she is adorable.
This was perhaps the first concert I've been to where I have been really into the artist. I mean Pinback is nice, as are Smashing Pumpkins and Jimmy Eat World but I was never a huge, huge fan of them. This was different, and so I now understand people's enthusiasm with concerts a lot more. It was also a new thing for me that I knew every song she played, and knew that she wasn't done because she hadn't sang them all yet. She also did some really good covers, Wendy Rene's "After laughter comes tears" and a hip hop song whose name escapes me.
After the last song, and after her plugging her merchandise, everyone was heading out and as we all filed past the table selling albums and t-shirts I look over and there she was! She was personally selling the stuff and signing autographs (very patiently I might add since people had to open the plastic wrapping of the LPs they wanted signed). Since I had already bought her album way back before it was available in the US, I just bought a pin and very politely asked her to sign my ticket. I had sort of planned to say something in Swedish to her, like "Var trevligt att träffas" or even just "Tack" but I was too starstruck. And having seen her up close I can say with absolute certainty that she is adorable.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
FTW
Last week the new batch of grad students all went over to our professor's house to have dinner with a distinguished guest lecturer, John Relethford. He's the author of one of the anthro department's required readings, a good book but one meant for undergrads. The material covers a lot of the stuff I learned in my GenEd "Human Variation in the Modern World" back at the U of A, so there wasn't too much that I hadn't already learned. Those of you who keep track will recall that it was that GenEd that inspired me to become an anthropologist in the first place so while reading the book didn't teach me a lot of new things, it was pleasant to reread all of the things that got me hooked in the first place. The professor told us the dinner was an opportunity to ask him questions about the book since we had to discuss it in class and write reviews. On our way there, a friend and I were wondering how long we would stay. I mean, the end result of the book is fascinating but what are we going to ask him? "So, tell us, when you had finally plotted the ABO bloodtype markers in all those Irish villages what kind of expectations did you have?" It turns out we ended up staying until 9:45 or so because the guy is totally awesome. The talk at the dinner table shifted from a somewhat forced discussion on anthropological stuff to a meandering conversation on our favorite sci-fi shows. He's a fan of Stargate SG1 (Atlantis not so much), Battlestar Galactica (even the original series), and Star Trek to name but a few. He's also a bit of a comic book nerd, commenting on the changes in Spider-Man's character over the decades or how dark X-Men is getting. By now, it's pretty much him, me and one other student talking all kinds of nerdy stuff while the others are all listening, chiming in with some smart-ass remark about Dungeons and Dragons and yet being largely left out of the conversation. John Relethford is a totally down to earth kind of guy, a complete nerd and a distinguished professor. It's good to see that once you've reached that spot in your career you're still allowed to enjoy the simple things, a welcome change from the brilliant but out of touch professors I've known.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Seen It
Eagle Eye with Shia LaBeouf and Michelle Monaghan. This movie is impossible to properly review without SPOILERS!
The concept behind this movie, while becoming increasingly relevant to today's world has been done to death. And while I admit to being entertained I have to say it was by no means an improvement on the concept. Also I wonder to what extent the things that happen in the movie are even feasible. OK, super-powerful AI that has the resources of the US military at its disposal, I get that. But little things like being able to remote activate the eject seat on an F-16, seems like if you network computers on manned vehicles like that you're just asking for an enemy to disable you without firing a shot. Also, as was mentioned in Multiplex, why the AI doesn't just shoot missiles at the White House when it clearly doesn't care about collateral damage is a bit of a plot hole. Other people I went to go see it with were hanging on the edge of their seat, not knowing what was going to happen next. I was not one of those people, I found it to be quite predictable. But then again, when you figure out it's an AI from almost the very beginning the motives and plot become quite clear. Think I, Robot, Terminator, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Deus Ex, Battlestar Galactica and a little bit of Portal thrown in as well. Y'know, the old "AI knows better than the humans and uses the immense power the humans have trustingly given it to take power for itself and may or may not end up killing everyone" routine. The movie would have been better had the AI won and we would have a nation run by a computer. It would have been interesting to see what would become of the world then.
The concept behind this movie, while becoming increasingly relevant to today's world has been done to death. And while I admit to being entertained I have to say it was by no means an improvement on the concept. Also I wonder to what extent the things that happen in the movie are even feasible. OK, super-powerful AI that has the resources of the US military at its disposal, I get that. But little things like being able to remote activate the eject seat on an F-16, seems like if you network computers on manned vehicles like that you're just asking for an enemy to disable you without firing a shot. Also, as was mentioned in Multiplex, why the AI doesn't just shoot missiles at the White House when it clearly doesn't care about collateral damage is a bit of a plot hole. Other people I went to go see it with were hanging on the edge of their seat, not knowing what was going to happen next. I was not one of those people, I found it to be quite predictable. But then again, when you figure out it's an AI from almost the very beginning the motives and plot become quite clear. Think I, Robot, Terminator, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Deus Ex, Battlestar Galactica and a little bit of Portal thrown in as well. Y'know, the old "AI knows better than the humans and uses the immense power the humans have trustingly given it to take power for itself and may or may not end up killing everyone" routine. The movie would have been better had the AI won and we would have a nation run by a computer. It would have been interesting to see what would become of the world then.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
What did the magical palm of Buddha say to the face?
I love this shirt. I bought it back in 2006 on the advice of Feifei, though I refused to wear it until she could tell me what it means. In Traditional Chinese (the language it's supposed to be read in) the red characters say "The Magical Palm of Buddha" and the characters at the bottom say "Kung fu." In Simplified Chinese, however, the characters read something to the effect of "Become an ascended spirit." I think both of those meanings are pretty cool, and the fact that it means two things at the same time is even cooler. Last night I was at a house party with a bunch of international students and a Japanese girl told me my shirt said something rather funny. Evidently, in Japanese the red characters read, "Bow to the divine, wild feminine." and the characters at the bottom read, "Smart husband/man." It's not unlike the time freshman year when I found out that one of my favorite shirts with the Chinese character for peace on it reads as "loose" in Japanese. Makes you wonder how entertaining it must be for Japanese tourists in China when they read all the street signs and billboards.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Social Capital
As predicted somewhat in my previous post, the continual temptation to go out and party with the international students has disrupted my study habits. Thankfully, reading is easier to catch up on than writing so for the moment I'm in the clear, but last week was rather ridiculous. Thursday night, after finishing a parkour class (more on that later) I was all set to get to my reading and research when someone down the hall says that people are going out to a bar, so I figured "what the hell" and went along with them. Similarly, on Friday night I was trying to make up for the work I didn't do the night before, and catching up on missing time due to waking up late, but was unable to do so because of another party. This was repeated Saturday night as well and were it not for the fact that nobody parties on Sundays I might not have gotten any work done. All that said, perhaps the fact that I did get it all done speaks to the fact that it was never as dire as I made it out to be. But the important thing to remember is that, while I was not doing work, I was by no means slacking off—I was, as one of my former professors would say, "accumulating social capital."
Specifically, we've (myself and a plethora of Germans) been going out to the clubs and pubs with a quartet of Danish girls (which is every bit as awesome as you would imagine). Now because Swedish, Danish and Norwegian are very similar, they are somewhat mutually intelligible as long as you speak clearly. Or conversely, if they can't quite hear what you said and they fill in a missing consonant or vowel as you shout above the club noise. However, as I learned this weekend they are not the same language. Right before we were going to go to another pub the Danes wrinkled their noses because someone had farted in the bar. I smelled it as I was walking up to them and so asked, "Fisa?" which is "fart" in Swedish. They looked at me rather shocked and said, "What did you say?" As it turns out, "fisa" (or however it's spelled in Danish) is the word for "cunt" or "pussy", related to the Swedish "fitta". The misunderstanding was resolved quickly enough but for that split second it appeared as if I just walked up and called one of the girls a cunt.
Tangentially, when I was in Sweden for Midsummer we were guests in the home of this one girl named Isa, whom her friends would jokingly call "Isa fisa". Given that Isa was a bigoted, lecherous, unfaithful, abusive woman I think the Danish fisa suits her much more appropriately.
The parkour class I mentioned above is one of the clubs at UMass that I stumbled upon by walking through a bunch of booths (there's a quiddich club and a freethinkers club too, whatever the hell the latter means) in the middle of campus during the first week. Most of the stuff is conditioning and simple exercises, but it requires a good amount of coordination and strength. Personally, my out of shape self was so sore after the first class I was achy for the next 5 days. Parkour is supposed to be about getting from point A to point B in the most efficient manner possible, a philosophy which is not quite manifested in our exercises, such as climbing along window sills on the entrances of buildings. Technically speaking, straight up bipedal walking is the most efficient form of locomotion (aside from wheels), but I can definitely appreciate the exercises. Regardless of whether or not I'll actually ever use parkour to jump off rooftops or scale walls, the conditioning will make me one strong, agile mo-fo.
UPDATE: One of my friends in the dorm evidently tore up his knee playing muggle quiddich. Evidently, it's a bit more hardcore than one would imagine a bunch of fanboys running around with brooms between their legs throwing deflated volleyballs at each other to be.
Specifically, we've (myself and a plethora of Germans) been going out to the clubs and pubs with a quartet of Danish girls (which is every bit as awesome as you would imagine). Now because Swedish, Danish and Norwegian are very similar, they are somewhat mutually intelligible as long as you speak clearly. Or conversely, if they can't quite hear what you said and they fill in a missing consonant or vowel as you shout above the club noise. However, as I learned this weekend they are not the same language. Right before we were going to go to another pub the Danes wrinkled their noses because someone had farted in the bar. I smelled it as I was walking up to them and so asked, "Fisa?" which is "fart" in Swedish. They looked at me rather shocked and said, "What did you say?" As it turns out, "fisa" (or however it's spelled in Danish) is the word for "cunt" or "pussy", related to the Swedish "fitta". The misunderstanding was resolved quickly enough but for that split second it appeared as if I just walked up and called one of the girls a cunt.
Tangentially, when I was in Sweden for Midsummer we were guests in the home of this one girl named Isa, whom her friends would jokingly call "Isa fisa". Given that Isa was a bigoted, lecherous, unfaithful, abusive woman I think the Danish fisa suits her much more appropriately.
The parkour class I mentioned above is one of the clubs at UMass that I stumbled upon by walking through a bunch of booths (there's a quiddich club and a freethinkers club too, whatever the hell the latter means) in the middle of campus during the first week. Most of the stuff is conditioning and simple exercises, but it requires a good amount of coordination and strength. Personally, my out of shape self was so sore after the first class I was achy for the next 5 days. Parkour is supposed to be about getting from point A to point B in the most efficient manner possible, a philosophy which is not quite manifested in our exercises, such as climbing along window sills on the entrances of buildings. Technically speaking, straight up bipedal walking is the most efficient form of locomotion (aside from wheels), but I can definitely appreciate the exercises. Regardless of whether or not I'll actually ever use parkour to jump off rooftops or scale walls, the conditioning will make me one strong, agile mo-fo.
UPDATE: One of my friends in the dorm evidently tore up his knee playing muggle quiddich. Evidently, it's a bit more hardcore than one would imagine a bunch of fanboys running around with brooms between their legs throwing deflated volleyballs at each other to be.
Saturday, September 06, 2008
UMass
After my first week at UMass I think I can safely say that this place kicks ass. Aside from the very pleasing change in landscape from Tucson, the social atmosphere is a refreshing change from the U of A as well. I suppose it might be possible that it's less the fact that they're so awesome here (as at least one of my cohorts has mentioned the snootiness of "Massholes") and more the fact that anthro grad students earnestly give a damn about what you have to say. Another cool thing is that I'm living in the grad student dorm, which wouldn't seem to be very cool, especially having had a room of one's own for three years, but the people here are really awesome. The vast majority of students here are international students, probably precisely because few American grad students would want to go back to dorm life after years of houses and apartments. It's an anthropologist's dream; everyone is so interested in experiencing American college life and I get to be there alongside them as they do.
My classes thus far seem pretty cool, mostly discussing readings and writing papers. They're about three hours long so every one of the five to ten people in class gets plenty of opportunities to speak up. I'm also rather puzzled by the fact that there are so many redheads here. One or two in each class of less than a dozen people. I'd get the Irish thing what with it being Massachusetts but they can't all be from here. Probably just because they vaporize in Tucson that's why I haven't seen many before.
I've been in this strange mood all week where I feel like every second I'm not out meeting people I'm wasting my time. To the point where I feel like a total shut in for even being on the computer at all. Never mind the fact that I've been going out at night with people every single evening this week, going to all the luncheons and introductory meetings for grad students and generally being very social. Somehow, my mind thinks that every moment I spend not hanging out with people, like the time I set aside for class readings, is a waste of time. Hopefully this is some first week, new school distorted equilibrium thing or this will be one rough semester...
My classes thus far seem pretty cool, mostly discussing readings and writing papers. They're about three hours long so every one of the five to ten people in class gets plenty of opportunities to speak up. I'm also rather puzzled by the fact that there are so many redheads here. One or two in each class of less than a dozen people. I'd get the Irish thing what with it being Massachusetts but they can't all be from here. Probably just because they vaporize in Tucson that's why I haven't seen many before.
I've been in this strange mood all week where I feel like every second I'm not out meeting people I'm wasting my time. To the point where I feel like a total shut in for even being on the computer at all. Never mind the fact that I've been going out at night with people every single evening this week, going to all the luncheons and introductory meetings for grad students and generally being very social. Somehow, my mind thinks that every moment I spend not hanging out with people, like the time I set aside for class readings, is a waste of time. Hopefully this is some first week, new school distorted equilibrium thing or this will be one rough semester...
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Down With O.T.B.
I'm writing this now before I forget to completely. I'm making it a tradition to review my previous employment on the blog in order to look back and put it into perspective. For those of you that were unaware, this summer I worked as a mutuel teller, employed by the Tucson Greyhound Park, at an Off-Track Betting site (OTB). Most of the OTBs are in bars, mine was Famous Sam's, but they do have them in bowling alleys too. This was a departure in many ways from my other jobs in that I was unsupervised and was not required to be pleasant to customers at all. I still was, to the best of my ability, but there were no smarmy comments from the boss telling us to smile more. When taken in the greater context of things, this job was very unfulfilling spiritually but when you take it at face value it was a really sweet gig. $7.30 an hour plus tips (ranging anywhere from $5 to $75 a day, but averaging about $20) made this the highest paying job I ever had, the slow morning shift and unsupervised work meant that I was essentially paid and tipped to read novels all day. Incredibly low stress and easy going, the job had some definite appeals and I wish I had discovered it in college, so I could have been paid to do homework.
Now, naturally, all jobs have a down side and depending on one's viewpoint, this one had some pretty severe ones. First off, you get to see the seedy side of humanity, angry people gambling all their money away, their souls poisoned by greed. I've never met such grouchy people in all my life; people yelling at me for giving them a losing ticket even if those were the numbers they wanted, people getting angry when they win but can't get the money right away, people who accuse me of trying to cheat them when they buy a racing form they later realize they don't want and I don't refund their marked up books. One guy, a crackhead (so I excuse his poor manners) will gamble his money to fund his habit, though lord knows where he gets the money in the first place. Another guy, who reminds me of Gil from the Simpsons inhis voice and demenor— he's always so convinced he's going to win every time and he always has to spend $20 every time he comes up to the teller and he loses almost every single time. In addition to the majority of the customers being ugly on the inside, they are also among the most physically repulsive people I've met as well. They're mostly old men who spend their days betting on horses and dogs, perhaps because they frighten small children when seen in daylight.
The other thing that people complain about is the fact that, as an employee of a dog track, I am supporting cruelty to animals. I counter this by pointing out that every industry has corruption. Period. So while some kennels at the dog track might be guilty of animal abuse, it doesn't necessarily reflect on the moral character of the entire organization. Secondly, by that logic someone working for a defense contracter is complicit in death and carnage and someone who works at a golf course or resort supports wasting water.
Whatever the larger scope of the job might have been, I found working as a bookie to be a decently paying, very low stress job that gave me the opportunity to catch up on my reading list. I would never want to work there forever, but the allure of being paid to read all day is compelling enough for some, apparently to spend decades there.
Now, naturally, all jobs have a down side and depending on one's viewpoint, this one had some pretty severe ones. First off, you get to see the seedy side of humanity, angry people gambling all their money away, their souls poisoned by greed. I've never met such grouchy people in all my life; people yelling at me for giving them a losing ticket even if those were the numbers they wanted, people getting angry when they win but can't get the money right away, people who accuse me of trying to cheat them when they buy a racing form they later realize they don't want and I don't refund their marked up books. One guy, a crackhead (so I excuse his poor manners) will gamble his money to fund his habit, though lord knows where he gets the money in the first place. Another guy, who reminds me of Gil from the Simpsons inhis voice and demenor— he's always so convinced he's going to win every time and he always has to spend $20 every time he comes up to the teller and he loses almost every single time. In addition to the majority of the customers being ugly on the inside, they are also among the most physically repulsive people I've met as well. They're mostly old men who spend their days betting on horses and dogs, perhaps because they frighten small children when seen in daylight.
The other thing that people complain about is the fact that, as an employee of a dog track, I am supporting cruelty to animals. I counter this by pointing out that every industry has corruption. Period. So while some kennels at the dog track might be guilty of animal abuse, it doesn't necessarily reflect on the moral character of the entire organization. Secondly, by that logic someone working for a defense contracter is complicit in death and carnage and someone who works at a golf course or resort supports wasting water.
Whatever the larger scope of the job might have been, I found working as a bookie to be a decently paying, very low stress job that gave me the opportunity to catch up on my reading list. I would never want to work there forever, but the allure of being paid to read all day is compelling enough for some, apparently to spend decades there.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Not Now
The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. I largely disagree with nearly all of this book. He does have a bunch of good points and they are certainly helpful to a wide segment of humanity, but I find that if you take his teachings to their logical conclusion it makes you a dullard. His grasp of science when it comes to coming up with evidence of his views is also rather dubious. Personally, I don't think one needs to destroy the ego in order to be happy, you just have to learn to not obsess over the past or future. A "self" without an education, beliefs or ambitions, even if one is free of suffering, strikes me as a unfulfilled self; a self I wouldn't want to be.
His theory that humans were at one point all perfectly conscious, not obsessed with time and impermanance, and there was a "fall from grace" which led us to the way we are now is straight up false. I wouldn't address it if he was working some religious angle but when he tries to make that a fact there's just no way it's true. Humans have been acting this way since before there were Homo sapiens. Tolle also makes the tiresome gender argument that because men think with their mind and the ego and women are more in tune with themselves that women are naturally closer to enlightenment than men. He also suggests that women have a greater pain-body, a sort of collective reservoir of suffering that feeds into everyone and is fed by the terrible injustices women have faced in the world, as though being a man in most of history was all fun and games. Being forced to endure agonizing pain just be allowed to be called a "man", sent for in the night by some feudal lord who wants you as spear fodder for his grand army, centuries of being taught to not show any softness or being allowed to be open with your feelings without being called weak, I'd say that might constitute a sizable male pain-body. Plus, and this is just my own observation, I've met more men whom I would consider "enlightened" than women.
As I mentioned before, there are some good ideas in the book and some surefire ways of reducing one's suffering. Stop looking towards the future as a point when you will be happy, focus on the present. Basically, stop putting off your plans to be happy. Don't dwell on the past; recognize it, learn from it but don't define yourself by your glorious or inglorious past. The main problem I have is that if taken to its logical conclusion, Tolle's book seems like the book a dictator would want his subjects to read: don't concern yourself with the past or future, there's no such thing as "bad", if you're upset at anything you simply haven't become enlightened enough, suffering comes from within, never from without. Many of the things he says in the book frustrated me to such great lengths that it took me months to read through it because I would have to put it down every few pages to cope with how maddeningly nonsensical a bunch of his statements are (like how truly great artists come from that intense Presence, devoid of suffering, seemingly forgetting that many of the great artists like Hemmingway and Van Gogh did not come from a calm and centered state of mind). I understand that the premise of what he is saying is that who I think I am is not who I really am and thus many of the ideas I have about the world are incorrect, I also understand that in the spirit of Eastern spirituality contradictions are meant to point to a greater truth. What I do not accept are logical contradictions like having a "no" that is free of negativity.
My final verdict is that while it has lessons that are very useful for many people, the world Tolle would have us live in would be a peaceful but utterly dull and complacent place.
His theory that humans were at one point all perfectly conscious, not obsessed with time and impermanance, and there was a "fall from grace" which led us to the way we are now is straight up false. I wouldn't address it if he was working some religious angle but when he tries to make that a fact there's just no way it's true. Humans have been acting this way since before there were Homo sapiens. Tolle also makes the tiresome gender argument that because men think with their mind and the ego and women are more in tune with themselves that women are naturally closer to enlightenment than men. He also suggests that women have a greater pain-body, a sort of collective reservoir of suffering that feeds into everyone and is fed by the terrible injustices women have faced in the world, as though being a man in most of history was all fun and games. Being forced to endure agonizing pain just be allowed to be called a "man", sent for in the night by some feudal lord who wants you as spear fodder for his grand army, centuries of being taught to not show any softness or being allowed to be open with your feelings without being called weak, I'd say that might constitute a sizable male pain-body. Plus, and this is just my own observation, I've met more men whom I would consider "enlightened" than women.
As I mentioned before, there are some good ideas in the book and some surefire ways of reducing one's suffering. Stop looking towards the future as a point when you will be happy, focus on the present. Basically, stop putting off your plans to be happy. Don't dwell on the past; recognize it, learn from it but don't define yourself by your glorious or inglorious past. The main problem I have is that if taken to its logical conclusion, Tolle's book seems like the book a dictator would want his subjects to read: don't concern yourself with the past or future, there's no such thing as "bad", if you're upset at anything you simply haven't become enlightened enough, suffering comes from within, never from without. Many of the things he says in the book frustrated me to such great lengths that it took me months to read through it because I would have to put it down every few pages to cope with how maddeningly nonsensical a bunch of his statements are (like how truly great artists come from that intense Presence, devoid of suffering, seemingly forgetting that many of the great artists like Hemmingway and Van Gogh did not come from a calm and centered state of mind). I understand that the premise of what he is saying is that who I think I am is not who I really am and thus many of the ideas I have about the world are incorrect, I also understand that in the spirit of Eastern spirituality contradictions are meant to point to a greater truth. What I do not accept are logical contradictions like having a "no" that is free of negativity.
My final verdict is that while it has lessons that are very useful for many people, the world Tolle would have us live in would be a peaceful but utterly dull and complacent place.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Flavor Tripping
Last night our friend Brian had us over for a rather interesting experiment. He bought these concentrated berry pills, the name of which I forgot shortly after it was mentioned, that temporarily deactivate your sour, salt and bitter taste buds. The result is, naturally that only sweet remains and also the other more difficult to articulate flavors that don't fall into the main four categories. Brian had bowls of lemons, limes, grapefruits, strawberries, cherry tomatoes, salt and vinegar potato chips, various sour candies and a couple different beers for us to sample. The absence of sour is the most obvious thing when you're eating and unless you know the stuff you're tasting is supposed to be salty you wouldn't really notice that absence as much. Straight up table salt tastes like nothing with this stuff and salt and vinegar chips taste like they've been dusted in sugar. You can still tell what fruits you're eating, but in each case the core element in their flavors is missing. Tomatoes were interesting because without the tangy zip that normally dominates their flavor all you get is this almost leafy, earthy...undertaste that's always there but impossible to really parse apart from the main flavor.
One's sense of bitterness isn't completely neutralized, however, Guiness still has a bit of bite that I think is the actual alcohol taste (the head on the other hand tastes sweet) and eating the citrus rinds still tastes gross, but not as bad as it would be normally. There also was a bit of cognitive dissonance when you smell the foods and expect something rather acrid but end up overpowered by the sugariness of a bowl of limes. It really helps you realize that, despite common misconceptions, taste and smell function independently of one another. Thankfully, the pill's effects wear off after an hour or so and you can go right back to puckering when you have a mouthful of sour candies. If the effects were permanant I think it might almost be a Hellenistic afterlife punishment; all the most delicious food in the world but in each case the one thing that made it so good is missing. Overall, I'd recommend it not because it's really terribly exciting but it's a great exercise in making the familiar exotic.
One's sense of bitterness isn't completely neutralized, however, Guiness still has a bit of bite that I think is the actual alcohol taste (the head on the other hand tastes sweet) and eating the citrus rinds still tastes gross, but not as bad as it would be normally. There also was a bit of cognitive dissonance when you smell the foods and expect something rather acrid but end up overpowered by the sugariness of a bowl of limes. It really helps you realize that, despite common misconceptions, taste and smell function independently of one another. Thankfully, the pill's effects wear off after an hour or so and you can go right back to puckering when you have a mouthful of sour candies. If the effects were permanant I think it might almost be a Hellenistic afterlife punishment; all the most delicious food in the world but in each case the one thing that made it so good is missing. Overall, I'd recommend it not because it's really terribly exciting but it's a great exercise in making the familiar exotic.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Vegas
Over the 4th of July weekend I went to Las Vegas for the first time. From its reputation I didn't think it would be my cup of tea but I figured it couldn't hurt to give it a try, especially going with a bunch of fun loving people who had been there before. One of the biggest problems right off the bat is that I don't like gambling. After we arrived at the hotel Friday night I gave the slot machines a couple tries but after they ate my money I got bored. I watched people lose game after game after game of craps and decided that really the only way not to lose is to not play, a lesson you don't normally hear. I did bet on horses, however, (I also felt kinda cool since I knew what all the bets and tracks were) and I did win some money, but still didn't manage to break even. This was still better than the guys at the craps table who easily lose $100 in about 20 minutes. Later that night we went to a fancy sushi restaurant on the Strip and it was there I realized that overall satisfaction at a restaurant when compared to price is an asymptotal curve. Yes, the 5 slivers of tuna were delicious, but for the same price I could have gotten more food of an only slightly lesser quality at a cheaper restaurant and not felt, well, robbed.
After we got back to the hotel I went to sleep but everyone else evidently decided to stay out until 4AM gambling and drinking. Needless to say, they were in no condition to do anything the next day until late afternoon. I was not about to sit around and wait for them to wake up so, despite people bemoaning the fact that we can never keep the group together, I went off and did my own thing. It must be a stranger thing to do than I think because people lauded me for wanting something out of the trip and making it happen one way or another. Of course, I generally prefer company but since my destination was very far away and I wanted to walk people probably would not have been up for it. Especially since my destination was Star Trek: The Experience.
That evening I went to see the Cirque du Soleil "Love" performance, which was the greatest performance I have ever seen. Of anything. Period. Needless to say that was the high point of the trip for me. We went clubbing later that night and after a failed attempt to get into a pretentious club we found a decent place to go. I can't speak for the others but aside from the offensive $12 for one drink I had a fun time.
Las Vegas definitely has a personality, but it's not what I would call a pleasant one. It's SO glitzy and SO ostentatious it feels like the city itself is trying too hard to get the other cities to pay attention to it. Not surprisingly, I've never seen so many fake breasts in my entire life. I don't think they're all locals, I'm pretty sure they're tourists who enjoy Vegas because it speaks to them. The city is so hell bent on getting your money, too. The only way you can get stuff cheap is if you stay in the casinos and drinks are only free if you're gambling. Othewise you go out and everything is ridiculously overpriced. It's an...interesting place to visit but there's not a crumb of wholesomeness in the city (or at least not in the Strip). I now fully understand the meaning of my mother's words when she said Nevada was designed to spite Utah.
After we got back to the hotel I went to sleep but everyone else evidently decided to stay out until 4AM gambling and drinking. Needless to say, they were in no condition to do anything the next day until late afternoon. I was not about to sit around and wait for them to wake up so, despite people bemoaning the fact that we can never keep the group together, I went off and did my own thing. It must be a stranger thing to do than I think because people lauded me for wanting something out of the trip and making it happen one way or another. Of course, I generally prefer company but since my destination was very far away and I wanted to walk people probably would not have been up for it. Especially since my destination was Star Trek: The Experience.
That evening I went to see the Cirque du Soleil "Love" performance, which was the greatest performance I have ever seen. Of anything. Period. Needless to say that was the high point of the trip for me. We went clubbing later that night and after a failed attempt to get into a pretentious club we found a decent place to go. I can't speak for the others but aside from the offensive $12 for one drink I had a fun time.
Las Vegas definitely has a personality, but it's not what I would call a pleasant one. It's SO glitzy and SO ostentatious it feels like the city itself is trying too hard to get the other cities to pay attention to it. Not surprisingly, I've never seen so many fake breasts in my entire life. I don't think they're all locals, I'm pretty sure they're tourists who enjoy Vegas because it speaks to them. The city is so hell bent on getting your money, too. The only way you can get stuff cheap is if you stay in the casinos and drinks are only free if you're gambling. Othewise you go out and everything is ridiculously overpriced. It's an...interesting place to visit but there's not a crumb of wholesomeness in the city (or at least not in the Strip). I now fully understand the meaning of my mother's words when she said Nevada was designed to spite Utah.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Anthropology
What is anthropology? I get that question a lot. When I first switched majors and people asked me what I was doing and I said "anthropology" they often repeated my response with a kind of hushed awe, as though I had told them I was majoring in Superheroism. Given that nobody seems to know what it is, I surmise that all those people must have mistaken anthropology for something else. The most common confusions are archaeology (which is technically not incorrect, but I'll explain that more in a moment) or entomology, the study of insects. More often than not, however, people just give me a blank look when I tell them what I study.
Anthropology, as the etymology would suggest, is the study of mankind. In the US anthropology is divided into four main subgroups: Linguistic anthropology, archaeology, physical anthropology and cultural anthropology. Linguistics is the study of language and thus instrumental in the study of humans. The results of linguistic research are absolutely fascinating and make for great conversation at parties. Actually researching and plotting vowel shifts and cognates and charting the increase in bilabial fricatives in Proto-Indo-European (known affectionately as PIE) is the most boring and tedious work possible. Linguistic anthropology seeks to explain how and why languages change, covering everything from whole language groups to the introduction of words and phrases into small groups of people (think: "lock it up", "daydoodah", "the Logo" and the subtle difference between "uh-huh" and "uh huh").
Archaeology is the study of extinct peoples through the analysis of the remains of their culture. If an archaeologist is lucky you'll get an Ankor Wat or Tut's Tomb, stuff that was very meaningful indeed to the culture in question. More often than not you get a piece of pottery or a pile of ashes from a hearth and you have to analyze what it was used for. Did the pot have functional purposes (did it hold wine, water, rice etc.?) or was it ceremonial or decorative? What kind of wood did they use in the fire? Is there evidence of it being used for cooking? And so on. Contrary to popular belief, archaeologists don't particularly care about the sites and artifacts themselves, they want to know about the culture. If they could just ask an ancient Minoan what they used this pot for, or how their society was structured, they would—it's a hell of a lot more efficient (and accurate) than rummaging through people's garbage. The public image of archaeologists is Indiana Jones or Lara Croft, these people are more concerned with treasure or rare artifacts rather than their significance in the greater whole of the site in which they were found. As I mentioned in the previous post, these people are antiquarians, grave robbers, "Tomb Raiders". Removing an artifact from a site is like moving a body or weapon from a crime scene, it destroys the context. Patience, precision and an eye for detail are the traits required for a true archaeologist. Because the very act of excavating a site destroys the context, you have to be sure to record every single detail so that way someone in the future can look on your notes and hopefully discover something that they couldn't have from the now-contaminated site itself.
Physical anthropology is the study of the human body. Its focus ranges from the subtle, such as the Human Genome Project, to the gross, such as forensics. Thanks to CSI and other such shows, this is perhaps the most well known part of anthropology, even if people don't know that's what it is. There's the study of how the body works, the evolution of the human form and how human bodies vary between groups. This guy was one of my professors and gives a pretty good idea of some of the stuff physical anthropology studies. Biological and medical anthropology are also parts of physical anthropology and focus on human variation and how differences among peoples can be applied to medicine, respectively. One example of how this is extremely important would be the distribution of humanitarian aid and food supplies. The US sent powdered milk to starving countries in Africa, failing to realize that most of the world's population is lactose intolerant.
Lastly, there's cultural anthropology, my specialty. Quite simply, it's the study of people and cultures. What do people think? Why do they think that? How do they behave? Basic questions but sometimes they're extremely difficult to answer. When I was little and I heard that anthropology was the study of people I thought that sounded like the most boring job in the world; I imagined somebody just watching people in cubicles, writing down something like "10:13AM, Subject sips from coffee mug." And perhaps cultural anthro would be that boring if not for a wonderful little thing called "participant observation." Participant observation means you go and live with, talk to and personally get to know the people you're studying. More often than not they become your friends, though you should always keep in mind a sense of professionalism in your field work. There are no famous examples of cultural anthropologists known to the general public (Daniel Jackson from Stargate would be a good example if people knew about it), so in order to point them in the right direction I tell them about the guys in the khaki safari outfits who go to some tropical island and study the natives. That's anthropology, but you don't have to go to a tropical island to do it, you can study any culture that's not your own (you take too much for granted in your own culture so you would never ask any really good questions). So I study people, what does that entail in practice, people often ask. Basically, I hang out with interesting people, drinking beer and having them tell me their life story. At that point, as surely as they gave me a blank look when I first mentioned anthropology, there's a change in their expression and stance as they realize that sounds like a really cool job.
But, certain career concerned individuals ask, what good is it? Sure it's intellectually stimulating but it's as careerworthy as a degree in philosophy, right? Well, like so many things, that might be true if you overspecialize. But as a field, the only places where anthropology is inapplicable is somewhere where there are not, nor were there ever, any people. As for cultural anthropology, that will only be rendered obsolete when all people everywhere perfectly understand one another.
Yeah, you worry about your own job security.
Anthropology, as the etymology would suggest, is the study of mankind. In the US anthropology is divided into four main subgroups: Linguistic anthropology, archaeology, physical anthropology and cultural anthropology. Linguistics is the study of language and thus instrumental in the study of humans. The results of linguistic research are absolutely fascinating and make for great conversation at parties. Actually researching and plotting vowel shifts and cognates and charting the increase in bilabial fricatives in Proto-Indo-European (known affectionately as PIE) is the most boring and tedious work possible. Linguistic anthropology seeks to explain how and why languages change, covering everything from whole language groups to the introduction of words and phrases into small groups of people (think: "lock it up", "daydoodah", "the Logo" and the subtle difference between "uh-huh" and "uh huh").
Archaeology is the study of extinct peoples through the analysis of the remains of their culture. If an archaeologist is lucky you'll get an Ankor Wat or Tut's Tomb, stuff that was very meaningful indeed to the culture in question. More often than not you get a piece of pottery or a pile of ashes from a hearth and you have to analyze what it was used for. Did the pot have functional purposes (did it hold wine, water, rice etc.?) or was it ceremonial or decorative? What kind of wood did they use in the fire? Is there evidence of it being used for cooking? And so on. Contrary to popular belief, archaeologists don't particularly care about the sites and artifacts themselves, they want to know about the culture. If they could just ask an ancient Minoan what they used this pot for, or how their society was structured, they would—it's a hell of a lot more efficient (and accurate) than rummaging through people's garbage. The public image of archaeologists is Indiana Jones or Lara Croft, these people are more concerned with treasure or rare artifacts rather than their significance in the greater whole of the site in which they were found. As I mentioned in the previous post, these people are antiquarians, grave robbers, "Tomb Raiders". Removing an artifact from a site is like moving a body or weapon from a crime scene, it destroys the context. Patience, precision and an eye for detail are the traits required for a true archaeologist. Because the very act of excavating a site destroys the context, you have to be sure to record every single detail so that way someone in the future can look on your notes and hopefully discover something that they couldn't have from the now-contaminated site itself.
Physical anthropology is the study of the human body. Its focus ranges from the subtle, such as the Human Genome Project, to the gross, such as forensics. Thanks to CSI and other such shows, this is perhaps the most well known part of anthropology, even if people don't know that's what it is. There's the study of how the body works, the evolution of the human form and how human bodies vary between groups. This guy was one of my professors and gives a pretty good idea of some of the stuff physical anthropology studies. Biological and medical anthropology are also parts of physical anthropology and focus on human variation and how differences among peoples can be applied to medicine, respectively. One example of how this is extremely important would be the distribution of humanitarian aid and food supplies. The US sent powdered milk to starving countries in Africa, failing to realize that most of the world's population is lactose intolerant.
Lastly, there's cultural anthropology, my specialty. Quite simply, it's the study of people and cultures. What do people think? Why do they think that? How do they behave? Basic questions but sometimes they're extremely difficult to answer. When I was little and I heard that anthropology was the study of people I thought that sounded like the most boring job in the world; I imagined somebody just watching people in cubicles, writing down something like "10:13AM, Subject sips from coffee mug." And perhaps cultural anthro would be that boring if not for a wonderful little thing called "participant observation." Participant observation means you go and live with, talk to and personally get to know the people you're studying. More often than not they become your friends, though you should always keep in mind a sense of professionalism in your field work. There are no famous examples of cultural anthropologists known to the general public (Daniel Jackson from Stargate would be a good example if people knew about it), so in order to point them in the right direction I tell them about the guys in the khaki safari outfits who go to some tropical island and study the natives. That's anthropology, but you don't have to go to a tropical island to do it, you can study any culture that's not your own (you take too much for granted in your own culture so you would never ask any really good questions). So I study people, what does that entail in practice, people often ask. Basically, I hang out with interesting people, drinking beer and having them tell me their life story. At that point, as surely as they gave me a blank look when I first mentioned anthropology, there's a change in their expression and stance as they realize that sounds like a really cool job.
But, certain career concerned individuals ask, what good is it? Sure it's intellectually stimulating but it's as careerworthy as a degree in philosophy, right? Well, like so many things, that might be true if you overspecialize. But as a field, the only places where anthropology is inapplicable is somewhere where there are not, nor were there ever, any people. As for cultural anthropology, that will only be rendered obsolete when all people everywhere perfectly understand one another.
Yeah, you worry about your own job security.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Indy
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull with Harrison Ford, Cate Blanchett with ShiaLaBeouf. I can't say this was a bad movie, and I didn't have any expectations that it would be better than Raiders of the Lost Ark, but there was something off about this movie. We'll start with what I did like: the fact that Harrison Ford kept himself in such good shape that he didn't need any alterations done to his costume and that he could still believably kick ass. The mythos of Soviet psychics. But most importantly, I'm glad that they specifically addressed how in previous films Indiana Jones does not act like any self-respecting archaeologist should. As my archaeology professor pointed out, because he cares nothing for the context of artifacts within an archaeological site, just their prettiness and their value to a museum, he is in fact an antiquarian. This movie had no treasure hunting, per se, and and Indy left valuable relics in their place. I was glad to see that technicality was addressed.
Now for what bugged me: Shia LaBeouf does not make a convincing greaser. Period. More importantly, the movie lacked the same feel as the other movies. Maybe it's the fact that CGI has a very distinct look that the other films didn't have. I suspect its the motivation: in Raiders and The Last Crusade Indy is trying to keep the Nazis from getting the the powerful artifacts for the sake of national and global security. Hell, he nearly blows up the Ark to keep it from being opened. In this one, he seems to forget that hiding the skull (which was Oxley's plan) would probably be a better idea than bringing it back to the temple and leave it there, hoping the Soviets don't find it.
Another thing that didn't sit right with me, and I might be all alone on this one, is that this installment of the series makes the Indiana Jones universe not make sense. The Ark of the Covenant and the Holy Grail mean that the Bible is true, there is a God, and Moses and Jesus did exist. OK, so Christian myth is all true, and there are also aliens? God's sending down stone tablets, angels and all sorts of holy stuff while he's not only keeping people in the New World ignorant of the One True Faith, but he's letting fucking aliens mess around with the people made in His image? I suppose you could make a similar argument with Temple of Doom and the premise that Hindu mythology is also true, but maybe the unifying theme there is that all the old god myths are all true. There's not just one God, but a whole pantheon of otherwise religiously unrelated, but equally real deities. But again, except in the New World. The Abrahamic God is real, and the Hindu gods are real, but we learn those poor South Americans don't have real gods, just aliens.
And yet, as frustrating as all this is, I don't factor that into my analysis of the film's quality. It's just a pesky sidenote. My final vote is that it's better than Temple of Doom, possibly equal to Last Crusade (though that one bears rewatching) and inferior to Raiders.
Now for what bugged me: Shia LaBeouf does not make a convincing greaser. Period. More importantly, the movie lacked the same feel as the other movies. Maybe it's the fact that CGI has a very distinct look that the other films didn't have. I suspect its the motivation: in Raiders and The Last Crusade Indy is trying to keep the Nazis from getting the the powerful artifacts for the sake of national and global security. Hell, he nearly blows up the Ark to keep it from being opened. In this one, he seems to forget that hiding the skull (which was Oxley's plan) would probably be a better idea than bringing it back to the temple and leave it there, hoping the Soviets don't find it.
Another thing that didn't sit right with me, and I might be all alone on this one, is that this installment of the series makes the Indiana Jones universe not make sense. The Ark of the Covenant and the Holy Grail mean that the Bible is true, there is a God, and Moses and Jesus did exist. OK, so Christian myth is all true, and there are also aliens? God's sending down stone tablets, angels and all sorts of holy stuff while he's not only keeping people in the New World ignorant of the One True Faith, but he's letting fucking aliens mess around with the people made in His image? I suppose you could make a similar argument with Temple of Doom and the premise that Hindu mythology is also true, but maybe the unifying theme there is that all the old god myths are all true. There's not just one God, but a whole pantheon of otherwise religiously unrelated, but equally real deities. But again, except in the New World. The Abrahamic God is real, and the Hindu gods are real, but we learn those poor South Americans don't have real gods, just aliens.
And yet, as frustrating as all this is, I don't factor that into my analysis of the film's quality. It's just a pesky sidenote. My final vote is that it's better than Temple of Doom, possibly equal to Last Crusade (though that one bears rewatching) and inferior to Raiders.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Love
No, this isn't going to be an uncomfortably personal diatribe and certainly not a post-modernist aren't-I-so-clever analysis of love. Instead, this will be an overview of the Western concept of romantic love, with many borrowed concepts from the often (but not always) brilliant Culture and Identity by Charles Lindholm. The thing Lindholm wants us to understand is that while there is a concept of romantic love in all cultures, the Western take on it is rather unique and not nearly as widespread as you'd imagine. Love and sex are intimately linked in Western society. Weddings are based on love and consummating a marriage is a consummation of love, hence why sex is called "making love." But many societies do not see that "obvious" connection between sex and love that we do, or of marriage and love for that matter. The ancient Greeks and Romans apparently regarded love as a dangerous thing (not so different from us) that had to be properly vented. So the men would visit prostitutes and fall in love with them. They would make love to these women while they simply made babies with their wives. In many cultures, such as the Bedouins and Medieval Europe, love is chaste and unconsummated, just talking and holding hands, watching the sun rise and all that stuff.
One culture, the Marri Baluch of Pakistan, is highly patriarchal, the women have no rights and are treated as chattel. Marriages are unions between families—alliances and trade agreements. They are seen as a stabilizing force in society while love is considered an inherently divisive thing, antithetical to marriage. In fact, in their culture loving one's wife is considered unnatural and wrong. The wives still do have love affairs behind their husbands' backs, but again these are chaste loves and they are despised not because of any infidelity but because they see them as destructive to society. People from enemy families can and do meet and fall in love. Think of the destruction wrought by Romeo and Juliet, all the collateral damage and political repercussions and you can see why if they think that's what happens when two people fall in love why it would be thought of so dimly.
The Oneida cult, who advocated communal love and actively discouraged monogamous relationships, collapsed shortly after their leader died. It's usually figured that because toward the end many of the cult members had abandoned communal love for monogamous relationships ("special love") that the collapse was due to the separation of sex and love. I suspect that it's because romantic love was forbidden and, unlike the Marri Baluch, the people who were in love could always leave their society for a more accepting one.
The Western version of romantic love generally appears in "open, competitive, individualistic and fluid" societies whereas hierarchical, structured societies do not have such a concept. As such, it's rather unlikely for a love story in a society much different from our own to have actually played out. For example, in 300 Leonidas probably would not have loved his wife, not because he was such a tough soldier, but because the rigidity of society wouldn't have allowed the idea to cross his mind. With this in mind I wonder about the plausibility of the romances played out in various sci-fi/fantasy worlds that are not connected to the real world. Star Wars, Farscape and Battlestar Galactica come to mind where certain societies (not to mention species) are alien to ours yet romantic plotlines involving those characters progress exactly as if they were from a Western society. I'm not complaining, I just think it's funny how much we take it for granted.
And finally, I leave you with this: for all those cynics and post-modernists that say that love is just a neurochemical concoction devised by Nature into tricking us into reproducing, you are dead wrong. If love motivated people to reproduce then the West would have the highest birthrate. Instead, we have the lowest while societies that do not believe love, sex and marriage are the same thing have the highest. So, if anything, love actually serves to moderate population growth.
One culture, the Marri Baluch of Pakistan, is highly patriarchal, the women have no rights and are treated as chattel. Marriages are unions between families—alliances and trade agreements. They are seen as a stabilizing force in society while love is considered an inherently divisive thing, antithetical to marriage. In fact, in their culture loving one's wife is considered unnatural and wrong. The wives still do have love affairs behind their husbands' backs, but again these are chaste loves and they are despised not because of any infidelity but because they see them as destructive to society. People from enemy families can and do meet and fall in love. Think of the destruction wrought by Romeo and Juliet, all the collateral damage and political repercussions and you can see why if they think that's what happens when two people fall in love why it would be thought of so dimly.
The Oneida cult, who advocated communal love and actively discouraged monogamous relationships, collapsed shortly after their leader died. It's usually figured that because toward the end many of the cult members had abandoned communal love for monogamous relationships ("special love") that the collapse was due to the separation of sex and love. I suspect that it's because romantic love was forbidden and, unlike the Marri Baluch, the people who were in love could always leave their society for a more accepting one.
The Western version of romantic love generally appears in "open, competitive, individualistic and fluid" societies whereas hierarchical, structured societies do not have such a concept. As such, it's rather unlikely for a love story in a society much different from our own to have actually played out. For example, in 300 Leonidas probably would not have loved his wife, not because he was such a tough soldier, but because the rigidity of society wouldn't have allowed the idea to cross his mind. With this in mind I wonder about the plausibility of the romances played out in various sci-fi/fantasy worlds that are not connected to the real world. Star Wars, Farscape and Battlestar Galactica come to mind where certain societies (not to mention species) are alien to ours yet romantic plotlines involving those characters progress exactly as if they were from a Western society. I'm not complaining, I just think it's funny how much we take it for granted.
And finally, I leave you with this: for all those cynics and post-modernists that say that love is just a neurochemical concoction devised by Nature into tricking us into reproducing, you are dead wrong. If love motivated people to reproduce then the West would have the highest birthrate. Instead, we have the lowest while societies that do not believe love, sex and marriage are the same thing have the highest. So, if anything, love actually serves to moderate population growth.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Couldn't Have Done It Alone
A week has passed since my graduation from the U of A. I'm still stunned by it, or maybe its the enormous vacuum left by the absence of 18 credits for the past year. Either way I now have a BA (with Honors) in Anthropology and that'll keep me pretty smug for the next few months.
I can now look back on the past four years and see how all the pieces fit together. I can say that nearly every class, even the ones I hated, served some useful purpose beyond just giving me credits to graduate. The only exceptions to this might be the Stage Costume Crew I was assigned to the first semester of freshman year. I'm tempted to say my Acting class was also a waste, but in truth its suckiness proved instrumental in pushing me away from Theatre Arts just a "Human Variation in the Modern World" was drawing me to anthropology. I dodged the Math requirement with "Logic and Critical Thinking", but that's about the only thing I got out of that. The only class I really got absolutely nothing out of was this last semester's "Cultural Astronomy", sure it satisfied the credit requirements but there must have been a better class.
All that said, I also can look back and see that the most difficult courses were also the most rewarding. "Historical Linguistics", once the bane of my existence, ultimately provided me with a good friend, a kickass paper I used as a writing sample for grad school applications and a letter of recommendation from a very influential and well known professor. I'm fairly certain this class played a significant part in me getting accepted to UMass. The boring nightmare of my studies in Uppsala, "People, Power and Food" resulted in me being able to put down 2 international video conferences in my CV.
And of course there are all of the great people who contributed to my success. Be it being a study partner for a midterm or final, editing and proofreading my essays or even just being the topic of an essay you all helped. Keith, Jenn, Frank, Steph, Feifei, Victoria, Nora, Matt and James, I thank you.
And of course without the generous funding of my parents my college experience would have been impossible (or at least very very different). Naturally, my parents had a great influence on my upbringing and personality but the key points in my life are directly because of the support and encouragement of my mom and dad. Had my dad not suggested we take up martial arts, not only would I have never gotten years of fun and learning from aikido I also never would have met my good friend Frank or any of his awesome friends and acquaintances. Had my mom decided not to go on a trip to Greece back in 2003 I never would have met Steph. Had my parents not supported my year abroad in Uppsala I never would have had the best year of my life, met so many wonderful people and my life might not have come into focus. Without those three points my life would have been totally different and I am fairly certain pretty crappy.
So thank you to everyone that has helped and encouraged me for the past 22 years, especially these last 4, I love you guys.
I can now look back on the past four years and see how all the pieces fit together. I can say that nearly every class, even the ones I hated, served some useful purpose beyond just giving me credits to graduate. The only exceptions to this might be the Stage Costume Crew I was assigned to the first semester of freshman year. I'm tempted to say my Acting class was also a waste, but in truth its suckiness proved instrumental in pushing me away from Theatre Arts just a "Human Variation in the Modern World" was drawing me to anthropology. I dodged the Math requirement with "Logic and Critical Thinking", but that's about the only thing I got out of that. The only class I really got absolutely nothing out of was this last semester's "Cultural Astronomy", sure it satisfied the credit requirements but there must have been a better class.
All that said, I also can look back and see that the most difficult courses were also the most rewarding. "Historical Linguistics", once the bane of my existence, ultimately provided me with a good friend, a kickass paper I used as a writing sample for grad school applications and a letter of recommendation from a very influential and well known professor. I'm fairly certain this class played a significant part in me getting accepted to UMass. The boring nightmare of my studies in Uppsala, "People, Power and Food" resulted in me being able to put down 2 international video conferences in my CV.
And of course there are all of the great people who contributed to my success. Be it being a study partner for a midterm or final, editing and proofreading my essays or even just being the topic of an essay you all helped. Keith, Jenn, Frank, Steph, Feifei, Victoria, Nora, Matt and James, I thank you.
And of course without the generous funding of my parents my college experience would have been impossible (or at least very very different). Naturally, my parents had a great influence on my upbringing and personality but the key points in my life are directly because of the support and encouragement of my mom and dad. Had my dad not suggested we take up martial arts, not only would I have never gotten years of fun and learning from aikido I also never would have met my good friend Frank or any of his awesome friends and acquaintances. Had my mom decided not to go on a trip to Greece back in 2003 I never would have met Steph. Had my parents not supported my year abroad in Uppsala I never would have had the best year of my life, met so many wonderful people and my life might not have come into focus. Without those three points my life would have been totally different and I am fairly certain pretty crappy.
So thank you to everyone that has helped and encouraged me for the past 22 years, especially these last 4, I love you guys.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Ink
I am beginning to think I'm one of the last people in the world without a tattoo. It's a very unusual thing to the in the minority about, I think. People seem to be obsessed with them and I have no idea why. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't have anything inherently against tattoos and some of the best human beings I know have had ink done. My problem is with the masses of people who get tattoos for what they often claim is some desire for individual expression. Again, if it's really individual, if it's really your thing (I think you know who you are) good for you. But the generic designs people have are by their very nature not individual. The fact that there are enough girls that will get a tattoo on the small of their back negates any individuality. I would think that if you're going to have some design permanently etched into your skin you should put a LOT of thought into whether you actually want it. I've had classmates come in sporting a new tattoo saying they got it because they were out with their friends and got bored. That's insane to me. If I were to get one, I would have to be certain that I agree with whatever statement it made every day for the rest of my life. It would just kill me if I had a tattoo I no longer agreed with.
People give me crap for not having a tattoo. "What? Are you afraid of pain?" or "That's sad that you don't have any real beliefs" or the most recent "Only cool people have tattoos." Addressing these in order: I used to do martial arts, where the possibility of getting punched, kicked, body slammed and other painful things were pretty much expected. Hell, I got over a fear of needles once I realized I've volunteered for more pain than a visit to the doctor. So yeah, afraid of pain? Bite me.
As for a lack of any beliefs strong enough to be worthy of a tattoo, let me first say that only the most general of ideas do I believe in strongly enough to even be considered for a tattoo. Stuff I'd expect everyone to already agree with, (tolerance, self-betterment, open-mindedness, truth etc.) so why bother making a statement? To remind myself in case I forgot? The idea behind the tattoo would have to pretty much always be in my mind anyway, a kind of obsession. A tattoo for me would then be a physical manifestation of that obsession, and that just seems unhealthy in my mind.
Lastly, I'm somewhat proud of not being a "cool person" i.e. the edgy indie kid with an obscure tattoo of a tree or something, or the real badass with the barbed wire tattoo on his bicep. Nuts to that. I'll express myself through actions, words, and to a lesser extent T-shirts.
All that said, if you have a tattoo and you're totally cool with it, that's great. I'm well aware that I think very differently than most people and what makes sense to me might not make sense to you, and vice versa. If it really means that much to you, it's your body and your choice and I won't begrudge you that. But if you're one of those guys with a tattoo of a naked girl on his arm or one of those girls with "princess" written in Chinese on your ankle, I'll still think you're an idiot.
People give me crap for not having a tattoo. "What? Are you afraid of pain?" or "That's sad that you don't have any real beliefs" or the most recent "Only cool people have tattoos." Addressing these in order: I used to do martial arts, where the possibility of getting punched, kicked, body slammed and other painful things were pretty much expected. Hell, I got over a fear of needles once I realized I've volunteered for more pain than a visit to the doctor. So yeah, afraid of pain? Bite me.
As for a lack of any beliefs strong enough to be worthy of a tattoo, let me first say that only the most general of ideas do I believe in strongly enough to even be considered for a tattoo. Stuff I'd expect everyone to already agree with, (tolerance, self-betterment, open-mindedness, truth etc.) so why bother making a statement? To remind myself in case I forgot? The idea behind the tattoo would have to pretty much always be in my mind anyway, a kind of obsession. A tattoo for me would then be a physical manifestation of that obsession, and that just seems unhealthy in my mind.
Lastly, I'm somewhat proud of not being a "cool person" i.e. the edgy indie kid with an obscure tattoo of a tree or something, or the real badass with the barbed wire tattoo on his bicep. Nuts to that. I'll express myself through actions, words, and to a lesser extent T-shirts.
All that said, if you have a tattoo and you're totally cool with it, that's great. I'm well aware that I think very differently than most people and what makes sense to me might not make sense to you, and vice versa. If it really means that much to you, it's your body and your choice and I won't begrudge you that. But if you're one of those guys with a tattoo of a naked girl on his arm or one of those girls with "princess" written in Chinese on your ankle, I'll still think you're an idiot.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Sweden
For Spring Break I made the unconventional choice to go to Sweden. That's right, while everyone else was in the Mexico or the Caribbean working on their tans I was bundled up in a snowy, Nordic state. It was really, really fun though. It was nice seeing all my old Swedish friends again and being back in the utterly gorgeous city of Uppsala. I was fortunate enough to be able to attend a gasque while I was there, actually the day I arrived. For those that don't remember a gasque is a traditional student dinner where people dress up in a suit and tie, drink and sing. This gasque was much different than the previous ones I had been to. This might be because it was a different nation (I was a member of V-Dala, this was at Kalmars) or maybe because it was a specially themed dinner. They were serving a traditional Kalmar dish known as kroppkakor which are basically potato dumplings filled with pork. That's not all that interesting in itself, but it's served with cream, melted butter and lingonberry jam to pour on top. It was an odd combination but I cannot say an unpleasant one; I don't even like lingonberries so that's saying something. I think the thing that set this gasque apart from the others was the quantity of food. At the V-Dala gasques, and from what I gather most other nations' gasques as well, the portions one is given are so meager is common to eat a pizza before going to dinner. But at this gasque the chefs had made so many that they had a contest to see who could eat the most. Everyone could eat their fill, and then some. It was actually Anders, the Swedish gourmet who invited me to the gasque, that won the contest with 18 kroppkakor (would that make him a gourmand, then?)
One of the things I thought was so amazing when you step back and look at it was how incredibly Swedish this whole thing was. Not just the ceremony and the tradition behind the whole thing but on a more fundamental level. Look at what the dinner consisted of: pork and potatoes, butter, cream and milk and the beverages were generous amounts of alcoholic beverages being served. Physically, most human beings could not eat this dinner. 70% of adult humans are lactose intolerant, plus there are plenty of ethnic groups that don't handle alcohol too well. Then there's the pork, that at least culturally restricts Muslims and Jews. That's how unique and special this dinner is, only a select number of people on Earth would be able or willing to eat with us that night. It's exclusive but without being exclusionary. I think that's beautiful.
While I was in Sweden I took the opportunity to purchase some hard to get items as gifts and for my own personal use. First was a massive Swedish-English dictionary set, selected because it had the definition for a sexual term I roughly knew the meaning of but not the exact definition. I also bought some cloudberry liqueur, this time it wasn't the cream kind, so there was no danger of it curdling during the trip back home.
And of course I stopped by the local music store to pick up some Swedish tunes. The clerk actually remarked how every one of the CDs I picked out were from Swedish artists. I got 2 CDs from Kent, the most popular contemporary Swedish rock band in Sweden. One from Säkert, the Swedish language version of Hello Saferide, it's pretty much the same style but a little different sound. Plus when they sing in Swedish you don't get the weird vowel syndrome that seems to be present with every Swedish singer singing in English. Sahara Hotnights seems exempt from this rule for the most part, at first I thought it was because theirs is a different genre than most of the Swedish music I listen to and that requires them to sing differently, but The Sounds are pretty much the same genre and the lead singer still has the weird vowels. Which brings me to Lykke Li, who, aside from having the cutest name ever and being totally adorable, also sings with weird vowels. Somehow she manages to get "B" and "me" to not quite rhyme, but after listening to her CD I realize now she does that on purpose. She has some spoken word poetry that she says with no hint of a weird vowel. This makes her that much cooler since what might otherwise be a charming involuntary quirk is something she chooses to use to express herself better. Learning that made me even more upset that I missed her when she was performing in Uppsala in my nation (the same Rock Gasque where I saw Hello Saferide live 2 years ago) only 2 weeks before my visit!
I spent most of my time in Uppsala, sightseeing and hiking around. It was really strange being a tourist in a place I consider my second home, everything is the same but a little different. It's the same city but it's no longer my Uppsala; most of the people I knew exchange students and Swedes alike all moved away. I didn't expect anything less, it was just strange actually experiencing that. I managed to walk downstream of the Fyris River (it feels weird not saying Fyrisån) a fair ways and ended up in some beautiful lush wooded area. It was cold, but it wasn't an unpleasant, biting cold. Rather it was that crisp, clean cold that a Nordic forest should be—the kind of forest that inspired myths of elves and fairies.
My last couple days I spent in Stockholm, having met up with Kaveh, the Swedish exchange student at the U of A last year. He showed me around the town and told me where to get cheap beer downtown. None of the places were shady, surprisingly enough, one was a karaoke bar. I was surprised how similar the selection of karaoke songs are in the US and Sweden and that the Swedes are just as tone deaf as Americans.
With luck, I'll go on a fieldwork trip to Sweden sometime during grad school and have the opportunity to live there again. I love that country so much. And by then my Swedish, which had improved considerably since the last time I was there, will hopefully be good enough to sustain a real conversation with some snygga brudar...
One of the things I thought was so amazing when you step back and look at it was how incredibly Swedish this whole thing was. Not just the ceremony and the tradition behind the whole thing but on a more fundamental level. Look at what the dinner consisted of: pork and potatoes, butter, cream and milk and the beverages were generous amounts of alcoholic beverages being served. Physically, most human beings could not eat this dinner. 70% of adult humans are lactose intolerant, plus there are plenty of ethnic groups that don't handle alcohol too well. Then there's the pork, that at least culturally restricts Muslims and Jews. That's how unique and special this dinner is, only a select number of people on Earth would be able or willing to eat with us that night. It's exclusive but without being exclusionary. I think that's beautiful.
While I was in Sweden I took the opportunity to purchase some hard to get items as gifts and for my own personal use. First was a massive Swedish-English dictionary set, selected because it had the definition for a sexual term I roughly knew the meaning of but not the exact definition. I also bought some cloudberry liqueur, this time it wasn't the cream kind, so there was no danger of it curdling during the trip back home.
And of course I stopped by the local music store to pick up some Swedish tunes. The clerk actually remarked how every one of the CDs I picked out were from Swedish artists. I got 2 CDs from Kent, the most popular contemporary Swedish rock band in Sweden. One from Säkert, the Swedish language version of Hello Saferide, it's pretty much the same style but a little different sound. Plus when they sing in Swedish you don't get the weird vowel syndrome that seems to be present with every Swedish singer singing in English. Sahara Hotnights seems exempt from this rule for the most part, at first I thought it was because theirs is a different genre than most of the Swedish music I listen to and that requires them to sing differently, but The Sounds are pretty much the same genre and the lead singer still has the weird vowels. Which brings me to Lykke Li, who, aside from having the cutest name ever and being totally adorable, also sings with weird vowels. Somehow she manages to get "B" and "me" to not quite rhyme, but after listening to her CD I realize now she does that on purpose. She has some spoken word poetry that she says with no hint of a weird vowel. This makes her that much cooler since what might otherwise be a charming involuntary quirk is something she chooses to use to express herself better. Learning that made me even more upset that I missed her when she was performing in Uppsala in my nation (the same Rock Gasque where I saw Hello Saferide live 2 years ago) only 2 weeks before my visit!
I spent most of my time in Uppsala, sightseeing and hiking around. It was really strange being a tourist in a place I consider my second home, everything is the same but a little different. It's the same city but it's no longer my Uppsala; most of the people I knew exchange students and Swedes alike all moved away. I didn't expect anything less, it was just strange actually experiencing that. I managed to walk downstream of the Fyris River (it feels weird not saying Fyrisån) a fair ways and ended up in some beautiful lush wooded area. It was cold, but it wasn't an unpleasant, biting cold. Rather it was that crisp, clean cold that a Nordic forest should be—the kind of forest that inspired myths of elves and fairies.
My last couple days I spent in Stockholm, having met up with Kaveh, the Swedish exchange student at the U of A last year. He showed me around the town and told me where to get cheap beer downtown. None of the places were shady, surprisingly enough, one was a karaoke bar. I was surprised how similar the selection of karaoke songs are in the US and Sweden and that the Swedes are just as tone deaf as Americans.
With luck, I'll go on a fieldwork trip to Sweden sometime during grad school and have the opportunity to live there again. I love that country so much. And by then my Swedish, which had improved considerably since the last time I was there, will hopefully be good enough to sustain a real conversation with some snygga brudar...
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Poly Ticks
From comments made in some of my classes I'm beginning to suspect that people who are angry with the government aren't really angry at the actual government, but regard "the government" as an abstract thing. They know the government runs everything and is responsible for everything bad in the world, so when they're unhappy it's "the government's" fault. The general feeling I get is that people are so cynical towards politicians, government and society in general that they start making absent-minded statements about how the world works. For instance, the professor asked the class what are some traits American society values or rewards. People listed the usual: honesty, ambition, hard working... Then someone said that based on the people we elect that honesty can't be an American value. The professor used that to point out the Freudian conflicting nature of the American collective mind. I didn't have the opportunity to point out that no one has ever, or likely will ever, run on a platform of being a lying, philandering scumbag because no one wants dishonest politicians. They always play up how honest they are and accuse their opponents of being dishonest. In that respect at least people vote their hopes and not their fears.
The other comment that irked me came today in my favorite class, Cultural Astronomy. The debate was whether or not it was OK to invite a French ship builder who specializes in replicas of ancient Oceanic designs to this event where Polynesian ships would sail to Hawaii to demonstrate how it might have been done in ancient times. The Frenchman was told he was not allowed to participate, despite the fact that he had been invited by a Tahitian cultural representative. The representative, however, did not tell anyone else that he invited him and was not a part of the actual sailing event. The event was allegedly for Polynesians only (though the Hawaiians originally wanted it only for Hawaiians) and that was really the big hangup everyone had during the actual event. The class was more hung up on how the representative, always referred to as "The Politician", could have the audacity to make such a decision. Granted, not telling anyone and not being there when the guy showed up was bad form, but people were asking what right this cultural representative had to make decisions for other people. Evidently I was the only one in the class who thought that it's not only the right of a politician to make decisions for other people but it is in fact their duty. Furthermore they questioned whether they had to honor such an arrangement if they did not agree. Again, not telling anyone complicates the matter, but if an official representative of Tahitian culture invited the guy they should damn well honor it.
I pointed out that the title of representative allows him to speak for the Tahitian people and everyone retorted that politicians never represent the interests of the people. Again, people fail to understand that politicians always represent someone's interests or they would never get elected and certainly not repeatedly reelected. Regardless of whether or not they're representing the people they promised they would look after the votes give them a mandate to make decisions for the masses until their term is up. The only way I can see the criticism of whether or not this guy had the right to invite someone to participate in a giant international cultural/political stunt is if this representative had been appointed and not elected. Criticizing the authority of an appointed official implicitly criticizes tribalism, the old ways and the authority of chiefs. And since the entire point of the sailing stunt was to spur a revival of traditional Polynesian ways, having these people be upset at an official making a decision over their heads essentially says that the old ways are not necessarily worth bringing back.
So I guess the bottom line I was trying to get at is: no one ever elects someone they don't think they can trust (or at least trust more than the other guy) and whether or not you approve of every decision they make, (barring the genuinely corrupt) politicians do have the right to make decisions for others.
The other comment that irked me came today in my favorite class, Cultural Astronomy. The debate was whether or not it was OK to invite a French ship builder who specializes in replicas of ancient Oceanic designs to this event where Polynesian ships would sail to Hawaii to demonstrate how it might have been done in ancient times. The Frenchman was told he was not allowed to participate, despite the fact that he had been invited by a Tahitian cultural representative. The representative, however, did not tell anyone else that he invited him and was not a part of the actual sailing event. The event was allegedly for Polynesians only (though the Hawaiians originally wanted it only for Hawaiians) and that was really the big hangup everyone had during the actual event. The class was more hung up on how the representative, always referred to as "The Politician", could have the audacity to make such a decision. Granted, not telling anyone and not being there when the guy showed up was bad form, but people were asking what right this cultural representative had to make decisions for other people. Evidently I was the only one in the class who thought that it's not only the right of a politician to make decisions for other people but it is in fact their duty. Furthermore they questioned whether they had to honor such an arrangement if they did not agree. Again, not telling anyone complicates the matter, but if an official representative of Tahitian culture invited the guy they should damn well honor it.
I pointed out that the title of representative allows him to speak for the Tahitian people and everyone retorted that politicians never represent the interests of the people. Again, people fail to understand that politicians always represent someone's interests or they would never get elected and certainly not repeatedly reelected. Regardless of whether or not they're representing the people they promised they would look after the votes give them a mandate to make decisions for the masses until their term is up. The only way I can see the criticism of whether or not this guy had the right to invite someone to participate in a giant international cultural/political stunt is if this representative had been appointed and not elected. Criticizing the authority of an appointed official implicitly criticizes tribalism, the old ways and the authority of chiefs. And since the entire point of the sailing stunt was to spur a revival of traditional Polynesian ways, having these people be upset at an official making a decision over their heads essentially says that the old ways are not necessarily worth bringing back.
So I guess the bottom line I was trying to get at is: no one ever elects someone they don't think they can trust (or at least trust more than the other guy) and whether or not you approve of every decision they make, (barring the genuinely corrupt) politicians do have the right to make decisions for others.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Good News
This has been a very good week for me. Tuesday morning I found out that I was accepted to the UMass graduate program. That made me very happy. Like singing and dancing and jumping for joy happy. Then the very next day I got an email saying Phi Beta Kappa is offering me membership. For those that don't know Phi Beta Kappa is the most prestigious honors society in the country and it looks damn good on a resume. I think it significant to point out that Monday night I was driving home and saw a shooting star and wished that I got into grad school. And lo and behold it came true. Now the list had to have been finalized before that moment and one can claim wishing on meteorites is folly, but I think believing you can at least occasionally command cosmic forces to do your bidding is good for your self-esteem, which actually does get you further in life. Regardless of the mystical powers of space rock, knowing I got into grad school has taken a weight of uncertainty off my shoulders. Now when people ask what my plans are after graduation I don't have to preface it with "Hopefully". Plus having certainty in my future plans effectively answers the question I ask regarding my current class load, "What's the point?" I'm now newly motivated and return to my monumental amount of homework with renewed vigor.
P.S. I rock.
P.S. I rock.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Döden!
The Seventh Seal with Max von Sydow and Bengt Eckerot. I can definitely see how this became such a classic. I've never seen a movie quite like it, which is definitely worth something. The guy at the Loft explained that the film became the iconic disturbing art film and whenever you saw movie poster with Death you'd know it wasn't a theater where you'd see a John Wayne film. One thing I noticed in myself while watching it was the fact that I've been so immersed in Hollywood fiction that I had to will myself to accept that a movie in which the protagonists are pursued by Death himself would eventually die by the end. Also, I wonder how much our society's views on death, the afterlife and the need for there to be a God was influenced by the Plague killing two-thirds of Europe.
I'm also rather happy that my Swedish has improved enough to spot the shoddy translations of the subtitles. Then again, it's Swedish from the 50s...
I'm also rather happy that my Swedish has improved enough to spot the shoddy translations of the subtitles. Then again, it's Swedish from the 50s...
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Classes so far
My final semester at the U of A is shaping up to be the most challenging one yet. That's not such a surprise considering that I have to take 18 credits, just like last semester, in order to graduate in May, but this one looks like it will be even more demanding than the last one. Each and every class is reading intensive and a fair amount of writing is heaped in there as well. The tactic among all my professors seems to be to assign a massive amount of reading right at the very beginning of the semester, then reduce it to a more reasonable load. I'm guessing this is to kill off the free loaders right away, but it also makes life a living hell for the people who are committed. The combined number of pages I had assigned at the very beginning of the semester was around 460. And that's not even counting the Swedish book I have to read. It's entertaining translating it for a little while—when the tension starts building every word you don't understand becomes a cliffhanger—but soon you get tired of having to look up every other word. Thankfully things have already smoothed out a lot and I can make it to about every tenth word now without having to look it up.
The classes themselves are, for the most part pretty good. "The History of Modern Britain" is actually rather interesting. It's really just a long tale of military victories, political cunning and exploration, interspersed with insights into their laws and traditions that seem almost alien. My other non-anthropology class is "Love, Decay and Madness in Vienna" and is really, really good. It's cultural history so while there's some dry historical context we have to read through, the meat of the class are poetry, prose and plays. The professor is perhaps the most professorly professor I have ever had. Bespectacled with slightly messy white hair and a goatee, he speaks with a deep resonating voice and a cadence not unlike Donald Sutherland. His use of German pronunciation when talking about authors and concepts belies no trace of conceitedness but speaks to his ability with and comprehension of the German language.
My first anthropology class, "Culture and the Individual" is taught by the same eccentric, enthusiastic professor that taught my very first cultural anthro class. A little more confident than he was three years ago, he teaches how the many ways identity is seen in different culutes and how the modern Western view was shaped through time. He's a fun guy, even though he completely spoiled Memento before I ever had a chance to see it.
My other anthro class, "Cultural Astronomy" is my least favorite in nearly every way. The mounds of readings that are utterly pointless (one reading's hypothesis was essentially "We expect to find only A or only B. But it might be a little of both. Or neither." and whose conclusion was "Further research is required.") which we then have to discuss in class. Since the readings don't really assert any opinions and the only way we could discuss their findings is if we actually had firsthand knowledge of the archaeological sites the discussions mainly involve us silently looking down trying to avoid having to answer the ridiculously specific questions offered by the discussion leader. As if that wasn't bad enough, when we do have a reading that is worthy of discussion the people who chime in give the most stereotypical college drivel. As I recall, very few of the students are anthro majors so I guess they really don't know any better, but I can only excuse them so much.
A typical discussion might go as follows:
A: "It seems to me this culture has a rather Cartesian, mechanistic cosmology. One that emphasizes the scientia over the mythos."
B: "But who are we to say what is or isn't mythology? I mean, all these definitions were all invented by rich white men (an attempt, I suspect, to ingratiate herself with our black, female teacher)"
C: "But if you think about it, isn't not having a definition just a definition in itself?"
It's rare that I get all three of my least favorite things to be said all said in one class. I'd smack each of them in the face if I could.
Well, here's hoping the good classes stay good and the bad one get better. And that my workload will not be the hellish nightmare I foresee it will be.
The classes themselves are, for the most part pretty good. "The History of Modern Britain" is actually rather interesting. It's really just a long tale of military victories, political cunning and exploration, interspersed with insights into their laws and traditions that seem almost alien. My other non-anthropology class is "Love, Decay and Madness in Vienna" and is really, really good. It's cultural history so while there's some dry historical context we have to read through, the meat of the class are poetry, prose and plays. The professor is perhaps the most professorly professor I have ever had. Bespectacled with slightly messy white hair and a goatee, he speaks with a deep resonating voice and a cadence not unlike Donald Sutherland. His use of German pronunciation when talking about authors and concepts belies no trace of conceitedness but speaks to his ability with and comprehension of the German language.
My first anthropology class, "Culture and the Individual" is taught by the same eccentric, enthusiastic professor that taught my very first cultural anthro class. A little more confident than he was three years ago, he teaches how the many ways identity is seen in different culutes and how the modern Western view was shaped through time. He's a fun guy, even though he completely spoiled Memento before I ever had a chance to see it.
My other anthro class, "Cultural Astronomy" is my least favorite in nearly every way. The mounds of readings that are utterly pointless (one reading's hypothesis was essentially "We expect to find only A or only B. But it might be a little of both. Or neither." and whose conclusion was "Further research is required.") which we then have to discuss in class. Since the readings don't really assert any opinions and the only way we could discuss their findings is if we actually had firsthand knowledge of the archaeological sites the discussions mainly involve us silently looking down trying to avoid having to answer the ridiculously specific questions offered by the discussion leader. As if that wasn't bad enough, when we do have a reading that is worthy of discussion the people who chime in give the most stereotypical college drivel. As I recall, very few of the students are anthro majors so I guess they really don't know any better, but I can only excuse them so much.
A typical discussion might go as follows:
A: "It seems to me this culture has a rather Cartesian, mechanistic cosmology. One that emphasizes the scientia over the mythos."
B: "But who are we to say what is or isn't mythology? I mean, all these definitions were all invented by rich white men (an attempt, I suspect, to ingratiate herself with our black, female teacher)"
C: "But if you think about it, isn't not having a definition just a definition in itself?"
It's rare that I get all three of my least favorite things to be said all said in one class. I'd smack each of them in the face if I could.
Well, here's hoping the good classes stay good and the bad one get better. And that my workload will not be the hellish nightmare I foresee it will be.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Språk
Swedish is a fun language. Aside from the fact that I can curse at people in a normal speaking voice and not a soul will understand me, there are all sorts of weird words and phrases that give the language a unique flavor. Take the word for jealousy, avundsjucka, it literally means "envy sick". It seems to suggest that the Swedes regard jealousy/envy (curiously, the Swedes don't seem to make a distinction between the two terms) as a sickness, something which afflicts someone, rather than a personality trait. I rather like that implicit interpretation, just like the symptoms of the common cold are nothing permanent, jealousy is something that infects us but can be cured.
I recently learned from my Swedish class there are two ways to say "will". There's the regular ska, which my tutor says denotes roughly an 80% certainty, and kommer att, which denotes a 90-95% certainty. So for a while when I wanted to say "I will fly to Sweden" I would have said "Jag ska flygga till Sverige" but now that I've bought the tickets, I'd say "Jag kommer flygga att till Sverige". The Swedes apparently can hear a situational difference between the two and it would sound weird to them to use the wrong one.
One of the eternally confusing things about Swedish (and many Germanic languages, for that matter) is their insistence upon combining words together while we would simply have a phrase. There wouldn't be a problem with this except for the fact that a lot of their words are combinations of other words already. So when you come across one of these you can't be sure if it's a phrase or a word and picking apart a word as though it was phrase only makes things more confusing. For example, nymodig means "modern", but if you thought it was a combination of words you'd translate it as ny (new) modighet (courage). This happens to be one of the more charming instances of picking apart Swedish words, it's so fitting that modernity then is "new courageousness". It just sounds so progressive and optimistic. There's also gammalmodig, which means "old-fashioned", and if picked apart you'd get "old brave". I thought that made nymodig even more charming because not only is it brave to embrace the future, but so is holding on to tradition and heritage. Then I found out from my teacher that mod in this case is more akin to "mode" in English and that it's just "new mode" and "old mode". But by God, I still say there's something to it! Swedes should know this better than anyone: there is something to be said about retaining the old while embracing the new. I for one believe in modighet, both ny and gammal!
I recently learned from my Swedish class there are two ways to say "will". There's the regular ska, which my tutor says denotes roughly an 80% certainty, and kommer att, which denotes a 90-95% certainty. So for a while when I wanted to say "I will fly to Sweden" I would have said "Jag ska flygga till Sverige" but now that I've bought the tickets, I'd say "Jag kommer flygga att till Sverige". The Swedes apparently can hear a situational difference between the two and it would sound weird to them to use the wrong one.
One of the eternally confusing things about Swedish (and many Germanic languages, for that matter) is their insistence upon combining words together while we would simply have a phrase. There wouldn't be a problem with this except for the fact that a lot of their words are combinations of other words already. So when you come across one of these you can't be sure if it's a phrase or a word and picking apart a word as though it was phrase only makes things more confusing. For example, nymodig means "modern", but if you thought it was a combination of words you'd translate it as ny (new) modighet (courage). This happens to be one of the more charming instances of picking apart Swedish words, it's so fitting that modernity then is "new courageousness". It just sounds so progressive and optimistic. There's also gammalmodig, which means "old-fashioned", and if picked apart you'd get "old brave". I thought that made nymodig even more charming because not only is it brave to embrace the future, but so is holding on to tradition and heritage. Then I found out from my teacher that mod in this case is more akin to "mode" in English and that it's just "new mode" and "old mode". But by God, I still say there's something to it! Swedes should know this better than anyone: there is something to be said about retaining the old while embracing the new. I for one believe in modighet, both ny and gammal!
Friday, January 25, 2008
I got you babe
The very first time I went on a ski trip was two years ago with the V-Dala international club in Uppsala. We went to this ski town called Romme, which incidentally is in the province the Swedish Chef supposedly hails from. My girlfriend at the time was a snowboarder and suggested I try to ski instead since snowboarding is so much harder to learn and much more painful. So I took her advice, rented some skis and was all set to have my girlfriend teach me to ski. Unfortunately, critical pieces of information were left out from her instructions. Most notably, she didn't tell me how to brake until after I crashed into a barricade. After watching me fall a couple more times, she went off to go snowboard with her friends. Her last bits of advice to me before she left me to fend for myself were, as I recall, "Don't worry, just have fun!" and "There's only so much I can teach you, you have to learn it on your own." The next two hours were a Sisyphusian ordeal of walking up a hill, falling down, walking back up and falling down again, making absolutely no progress whatsoever. My day was cut short when my girlfriend injured herself while snowboarding and I kept her company for the duration of the trip.
Flashing forward to last weekend, I went on another ski trip—this time to Pinetop. Given the utter futility of my last attempt I was a little concerned about how well I would do. The slopes we went to didn't really have a practice area for noobs and so my education was a bit of a trial by fire. This ultimately proved to be a very good thing. The ski lifts, which I had never even made it to in Sweden, are a challenge in themselves. It is surprising, though, how natural it feels being on the ski lifts when any other time sitting on a shaky bench suspended fifty feet above a icy, rocky slope would be completely nerve wracking. Maybe it's because you can't really gauge distance as well cuz of the uniform whiteness of the snow, but whatever the reason the only time you feel even the slightest bit of acrophobia is when you pass the supporting towers. Getting on and off the lifts, on the other hand, is far more stressful. Though I only had one incident getting on the lift which resulted in me losing a ski, each time was a little frantic. You have to ski up to a red line, wait for the people ahead of you to get scooped up, then make a mad dash (which is really hard with skis) to the green line they were just standing at, align yourselves with the lift so you don't get picked up sideways, and sit down quickly when it scoops you up.
Disembarking never went well for me. Granted, if you don't know how to ski then it's no surprise that you fall when a machine is pushing you off. (That difficulty is compounded when you only have one ski.) The worst one was when I tried to push off the lift like I was told to do, but my glove got caught where the seat meets the side rail. When I pushed forward my right hand held me back and I fell on my ass. Still attached, I was whipped to the left–in what I can only imagine was a hilarious fashion– when the lift swung back around and took my glove with it. Thankfully, it threw the glove clear and my friend got it for me otherwise it would have been a short trip.
Skiing itself was really rough at first and snow plowing works muscles I was never even aware of. Just like before, I was told to make a wedge go slow down and narrow the wedge to speed up. Unlike before, my friends were skiing as well and not only demonstrated what to do but stayed with me the entire way. My progress was slow and there was still a lot of falling, but by the time I got down the mountain I had all the basics covered and could then actually enjoy skiing.
The next day I was able to jump right into it and while going down the mountain was able to notice some of the more subtle things about skiing and slopes in general. For instance, I quickly learned improved ways to turn and when I discovered this I asked myself, "Why didn't they teach me this? This is so much easier. All they had to do was say..." At that point I realized that, because it consisted of minute shifts and movements, it was something that could not really be explained or taught–you just had to learn it yourself. Thus, that claim as well as "just have fun" are useful things to know, but only after you've learned how to actually ski. If those are the only things someone tells you, no matter what you're trying to learn, then you need a new teacher.
Some assorted bits of wisdom I learned over the trip include:
-Asshole is a terribly vindictive game that, with the aid of alcohol, demonstrates the cruelty of human nature. And yet, it's surprisingly fun.
-Some people were born to play Guitar Hero. I am not one of those people.
-I do, however, have enough coordination to learn DDR.
-Jerks will prefer to snowboard rather than ski. This is demonstrated by the fact that you never see skiers stopped in the middle of the slope just hanging out or waiting for their friends.
-The "Easy Out" slope is so named not for its ease but because suicide is often called "the easy way out". Seriously, how are beginners supposed to successfully make a U-turn in a forest on a slope the width of a car lane?
-Arizona is probably the only place on Earth where one can find both avalanches and sand storms.
-Singing the theme song to "Speed Racer" in your head while skiing will only end badly.
And a word I learned from a 99 year old forestry book in the cabin: mensuration- the branch of geometry that deals with the measurement of length, area, or volume; the act or process of measuring. (I thought geometry was the measurement of length, area and volume)
Flashing forward to last weekend, I went on another ski trip—this time to Pinetop. Given the utter futility of my last attempt I was a little concerned about how well I would do. The slopes we went to didn't really have a practice area for noobs and so my education was a bit of a trial by fire. This ultimately proved to be a very good thing. The ski lifts, which I had never even made it to in Sweden, are a challenge in themselves. It is surprising, though, how natural it feels being on the ski lifts when any other time sitting on a shaky bench suspended fifty feet above a icy, rocky slope would be completely nerve wracking. Maybe it's because you can't really gauge distance as well cuz of the uniform whiteness of the snow, but whatever the reason the only time you feel even the slightest bit of acrophobia is when you pass the supporting towers. Getting on and off the lifts, on the other hand, is far more stressful. Though I only had one incident getting on the lift which resulted in me losing a ski, each time was a little frantic. You have to ski up to a red line, wait for the people ahead of you to get scooped up, then make a mad dash (which is really hard with skis) to the green line they were just standing at, align yourselves with the lift so you don't get picked up sideways, and sit down quickly when it scoops you up.
Disembarking never went well for me. Granted, if you don't know how to ski then it's no surprise that you fall when a machine is pushing you off. (That difficulty is compounded when you only have one ski.) The worst one was when I tried to push off the lift like I was told to do, but my glove got caught where the seat meets the side rail. When I pushed forward my right hand held me back and I fell on my ass. Still attached, I was whipped to the left–in what I can only imagine was a hilarious fashion– when the lift swung back around and took my glove with it. Thankfully, it threw the glove clear and my friend got it for me otherwise it would have been a short trip.
Skiing itself was really rough at first and snow plowing works muscles I was never even aware of. Just like before, I was told to make a wedge go slow down and narrow the wedge to speed up. Unlike before, my friends were skiing as well and not only demonstrated what to do but stayed with me the entire way. My progress was slow and there was still a lot of falling, but by the time I got down the mountain I had all the basics covered and could then actually enjoy skiing.
The next day I was able to jump right into it and while going down the mountain was able to notice some of the more subtle things about skiing and slopes in general. For instance, I quickly learned improved ways to turn and when I discovered this I asked myself, "Why didn't they teach me this? This is so much easier. All they had to do was say..." At that point I realized that, because it consisted of minute shifts and movements, it was something that could not really be explained or taught–you just had to learn it yourself. Thus, that claim as well as "just have fun" are useful things to know, but only after you've learned how to actually ski. If those are the only things someone tells you, no matter what you're trying to learn, then you need a new teacher.
Some assorted bits of wisdom I learned over the trip include:
-Asshole is a terribly vindictive game that, with the aid of alcohol, demonstrates the cruelty of human nature. And yet, it's surprisingly fun.
-Some people were born to play Guitar Hero. I am not one of those people.
-I do, however, have enough coordination to learn DDR.
-Jerks will prefer to snowboard rather than ski. This is demonstrated by the fact that you never see skiers stopped in the middle of the slope just hanging out or waiting for their friends.
-The "Easy Out" slope is so named not for its ease but because suicide is often called "the easy way out". Seriously, how are beginners supposed to successfully make a U-turn in a forest on a slope the width of a car lane?
-Arizona is probably the only place on Earth where one can find both avalanches and sand storms.
-Singing the theme song to "Speed Racer" in your head while skiing will only end badly.
And a word I learned from a 99 year old forestry book in the cabin: mensuration- the branch of geometry that deals with the measurement of length, area, or volume; the act or process of measuring. (I thought geometry was the measurement of length, area and volume)
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Yeesh
Aliens Vs. Predator-Requiem with the Predalien, the Predator and a bunch of human fodder. Fuck. I mean good Lord! Well, it was definitely an entertaining movie and they most certainly earned their R rating. I've heard the phrase "pornography of violence" before but never fully understood it's meaning, now I know. Everybody dies. Many in a most gruesome fashion. They pull no punches. Over the top? I'm going to go with perhaps. Had it been a standalone movie I would have gone with yes; the deaths of children, babies and pregnant women is indeed disturbing (had they actually shown the babies getting eaten I'm certain it would have gone from R, right past NC-17 to U: Unsuitable to ever be filmed) but because there already is a rich back story in the AvP universe it's simply expanding on it and the violence is simply the most effective tool to do so. While the other movies show soldiers getting killed you now see exactly what the Aliens do to a civilian population.
If you expect a complex and spellbinding plot, well, then you need to learn the difference between genres. Of course it's predictable, and that's what's good. The 1st AvP tried to have a plot, and that's why it sucked. This one realizes that humans are not the stars of a franchise called "Aliens vs. Predator". A story doesn't need to be totally unpredictable to make it good, otherwise no one would ever buy movies to rewatch them and remakes of classic movies would be a joyous thing. A film, even a gruesome sci-fi horror flick is to be judged not just by what they do but how they do it. And by that I say this movie delivered exactly what it promised, and then some.
If you expect a complex and spellbinding plot, well, then you need to learn the difference between genres. Of course it's predictable, and that's what's good. The 1st AvP tried to have a plot, and that's why it sucked. This one realizes that humans are not the stars of a franchise called "Aliens vs. Predator". A story doesn't need to be totally unpredictable to make it good, otherwise no one would ever buy movies to rewatch them and remakes of classic movies would be a joyous thing. A film, even a gruesome sci-fi horror flick is to be judged not just by what they do but how they do it. And by that I say this movie delivered exactly what it promised, and then some.
Cold War
Charlie Wilson's War with Tom Hanks and Amy Adams. One of the better historical political movies I've seen in a while. It's also rather illuminating in terms of how the Afghanis ended up with all the weapons and aid. Not surprisingly, the movie is not entirely accurate and the truth is a bit more convoluted, but essentially the movie got it right. I also like the fact that they showed the human aspect and reasons for the operation. Popular opinion, from the people I've talked to anyway, was that the US was so eager to help the Afghanis and they only did it to stop the Soviets. While that is definitely a big part of it, the movie shows their desire to help the people fight back against an army that slaughters women and children. It also demonstrates that it took effort to get support for the operation and that there was an attempt to give humanitarian aid after the war, but it was stymied.
Aside from the history of it, the acting was superb and it was quite lighthearted and funny. That, in combination with its poignance, definitely made the movie worthwhile.
Charlie Wilson's War with Tom Hanks and Amy Adams. One of the better historical political movies I've seen in a while. It's also rather illuminating in terms of how the Afghanis ended up with all the weapons and aid. Not surprisingly, the movie is not entirely accurate and the truth is a bit more convoluted, but essentially the movie got it right. I also like the fact that they showed the human aspect and reasons for the operation. Popular opinion, from the people I've talked to anyway, was that the US was so eager to help the Afghanis and they only did it to stop the Soviets. While that is definitely a big part of it, the movie shows their desire to help the people fight back against an army that slaughters women and children. It also demonstrates that it took effort to get support for the operation and that there was an attempt to give humanitarian aid after the war, but it was stymied.
Aside from the history of it, the acting was superb and it was quite lighthearted and funny. That, in combination with its poignance, definitely made the movie worthwhile.
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