Moreover, it doesn't rule out making someone else's business your own and then minding it.
So I don't give a shit if you were minding your own business. I want a comprehensive list of all of the business you were minding, so that I can verify that none of it was mine (or originally mine).
Unfortunately for you, I have a lot of business. Most of it, in fact.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Monday, March 29, 2010
Spam and the Afterlife
There is very good reason to think that spam coming to your email addresses will be the longest lasting mark of your existence on this planet. Depressing isn't it?
But think about it: spam emails actually constitute considerable fraction of the interactions of which you are party on a daily basis. More importantly, they are the least discriminate. Spam is sent whether you are there or not, and I'm sure even whether your email address is there or not. Basically, as long as there is an internet in any recognizable form, some computer somewhere is going to be trying to sell you penis enlarging pills (on the bright side, they might just work by then!).
What about other traces? Basically everyone you will know will be dead within 60 years of your own demise. A very small amount of the population will produce any sort of intellectual work that people will care about in 100 years. The number of philosophers, writers, artists, scientists, and so on, that make that kind of mark is small indeed. As for products of physical work: well, buildings and so forth may stand, but they do not have your name on them. They are not about or for you in any way. And of course, you are not going to be rich enough to put your name on any of them. Even if you are, someone else can come along and buy the rights.
So there you have it. Every other mark you leave will fade into the collective cultural memory. The only thing left specific to you will be the spam aimed at your email accounts. So do not lament spam. Do not curse those messages that actually get through your filter. Think of them instead as happy little reminders of the long ranging mark you leave on this world. Think of them as a little taste of the afterlife.
But think about it: spam emails actually constitute considerable fraction of the interactions of which you are party on a daily basis. More importantly, they are the least discriminate. Spam is sent whether you are there or not, and I'm sure even whether your email address is there or not. Basically, as long as there is an internet in any recognizable form, some computer somewhere is going to be trying to sell you penis enlarging pills (on the bright side, they might just work by then!).
What about other traces? Basically everyone you will know will be dead within 60 years of your own demise. A very small amount of the population will produce any sort of intellectual work that people will care about in 100 years. The number of philosophers, writers, artists, scientists, and so on, that make that kind of mark is small indeed. As for products of physical work: well, buildings and so forth may stand, but they do not have your name on them. They are not about or for you in any way. And of course, you are not going to be rich enough to put your name on any of them. Even if you are, someone else can come along and buy the rights.
So there you have it. Every other mark you leave will fade into the collective cultural memory. The only thing left specific to you will be the spam aimed at your email accounts. So do not lament spam. Do not curse those messages that actually get through your filter. Think of them instead as happy little reminders of the long ranging mark you leave on this world. Think of them as a little taste of the afterlife.
Monday, March 15, 2010
"I'M BORED!"
When I proclaim that I am bored, i do not want it to be merely a self report of my feelings.
I want it to be a call to action (namely, a complete dissolution of the current situation). I want it to be an accusation of those around me of having bored me. I want it to be an indictment of all organizational/cultural/social factors that have brought things to this point. I want it to proclaim a lamentable state of the universe. I want it to assert that some genuine wrong has been done.
I have been working on my delivery to this end. Still, though, no one seems to get the point. No one would tell me to shut up if they really understood all I am saying.
I want it to be a call to action (namely, a complete dissolution of the current situation). I want it to be an accusation of those around me of having bored me. I want it to be an indictment of all organizational/cultural/social factors that have brought things to this point. I want it to proclaim a lamentable state of the universe. I want it to assert that some genuine wrong has been done.
I have been working on my delivery to this end. Still, though, no one seems to get the point. No one would tell me to shut up if they really understood all I am saying.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Science Fiction v. Space Magic or Lessons Learned From Job Interviews
Well, I've returned from my hiatus, and, no, I will not offer any explanation whatsoever for my absence.
Recently, in the demeaning process that is labeled "job interviews," I have been asked a variety of questions. Some were very good, some were very poor.
Good Questions:
Explain why you would make a valuable addition to our company, focusing on skills you have that you have that we lack, as does the rest of the applicant pool.
Why would you be good at this job?
Why do you want this job?
Answer one of the following three: a) Your position on the USD / RMB exchange rate; b) Your position on the current state of content licensing in the U.S.; c) Your opinion of the current Fed. interest rate. (Actual question; I answered b.)
Why are you crying hysterically?
Would you like some clean pants?
Bad Questions:
What are your weaknesses? (Always a BS question. Best answered with "Failure is intolerable, and will be met with swift and harsh punishment.")
Any question indicating they simply have not read your resume.
Can you work under pressure?
Can you meet deadlines?
Where do you see yourself in five years? (Always best answered with, "is that your daughter?" while gesturing to the nearest photo [especially if the photo does not depict, in increasing order of excellence: a) a woman; b) a human c) is actually a blank wall.)
However, in general, I like the non-standard questions, where an interviewer is trying to get to know you as a person, and not just a worker drone. For instance, talking about books, movies, music, news topics, restaurants, etc. From discussions of topics unrelated to work you can determine a lot about the character of an individual. This leads to the issue at hand, where in one interview I mentioned I appreciated science fiction, so the interviewers (there were three) asked me if I meant Star Trek and Star Wars. With no offense to them whatsoever (they are very good people), and on offense to Stars, either Wars or Trek (thanks, Donaghy), those are not science fiction, not by a long shot. They are "Space Magic."
Science Fiction: Science fiction is the genre wherein the reader/viewer is asked to accept a few key changes in the world, whether they be the early death of a historical figure, the longer life of a historical figure, that a war turned out differently, that a piece of technology exists that has not been invented yet, is impossible, or was not invented at that time, or changes / adds to the laws of nature in a certain way. The rest of the story then systematically -- and carefully -- explores the bounds of this new reality, and makes sure not to have the reader accept more and more leaps of faith and logic. In other words, the premises of the real world are changed, but logic and reasoning remain consistent. Examples: Heinlein, Asimov, Stephenson, and, yes, even Anne Rice. Seriously, that actually enhances my point. Simply because there is a "magical" reason for Rice's vampires does not mean that she is constantly inventing new mechanisms, or has inconsistent back story, or fills in gaps in comic-book style (more below), but, rather, has a very interesting, totally consistent back story to how Vampires came to be, and, given that back story, the way they behave makes a whole lot of sense.
Space Magic: Space magic consists of stories that have none of the consistent reasoning or rigorous logic mentioned above, but rely on a consistent stream of deus ex machina, draped in the veil of pseudo-scientific jargon. This is eloquently explained with a quote from the Futurama Episode "Where No Fan Has Gone Before":
Fry: Usually on the show, they came up with a complicated plan, then explained it with a simple analogy.
Leela: Hmmm... If we can re-route engine power through the primary weapons and configure them to Melllvar's frequency, that should overload his electro-quantum structure.
Bender: Like putting too much air in a balloon!
Fry: Of course! It's all so simple!
That is space-magic. There is no scientific reasoning at all, just a situation that, by all common sense, should result in the death of our heroes, but, with a bit of scientific jargon, and a bunch of flashing lights, the enemy explodes.
Caption: They explode like this. BTW, combustion does not work in space, so, yeah. There's that too.
Another elegant explanation can be found at Seanbaby (one of the internet's funniest sites), in his description of the idiocy of Superman:
Superman had at least 150 powers, and the writers were making up two or three more every episode. If a script called for it, Superman would leak paste out of his ears that can control the weather. His fingernails might cure cancer and create food, he may never remember....
Superman didn't go to school, and neither did the runaway Malaysian children that animated him. They must have picked a few science words up in the cartoon sweatshop, though; because sometimes Superman tried to explain the insane shit he did. It was almost lovable how confident he would sound when he did things like rub his hands together to make a tractor fly and say, "Murmur blahblah mur... FRICTION will blah molecule mumble REVERSAL GRAVITY!"
If you haven't read Seanbaby's post on Superman, follow the link above and read it, because it is hi-larious.
This means that, in essence, shoes like Star Trek and Serenity/Firefly have more in common with Xena and Harry Potter than they do with 2001 or, yes, Battlestar.
In other words, just because something is in space, doesn't make it science fiction, and just because there is magic involved or it is in Medieval times does not make it "magical." It is about exploring a new set of premises v. making the audience consistently take leaps of faith and feeding them a series of miracle-saves.
Dig?
Note: Star Wars actually doesn't make you take too many leaps of faith, at least not the original three. The new ones... well... yeah. Whatever.
Recently, in the demeaning process that is labeled "job interviews," I have been asked a variety of questions. Some were very good, some were very poor.
Good Questions:
Explain why you would make a valuable addition to our company, focusing on skills you have that you have that we lack, as does the rest of the applicant pool.
Why would you be good at this job?
Why do you want this job?
Answer one of the following three: a) Your position on the USD / RMB exchange rate; b) Your position on the current state of content licensing in the U.S.; c) Your opinion of the current Fed. interest rate. (Actual question; I answered b.)
Why are you crying hysterically?
Would you like some clean pants?
Bad Questions:
What are your weaknesses? (Always a BS question. Best answered with "Failure is intolerable, and will be met with swift and harsh punishment.")
Any question indicating they simply have not read your resume.
Can you work under pressure?
Can you meet deadlines?
Where do you see yourself in five years? (Always best answered with, "is that your daughter?" while gesturing to the nearest photo [especially if the photo does not depict, in increasing order of excellence: a) a woman; b) a human c) is actually a blank wall.)
However, in general, I like the non-standard questions, where an interviewer is trying to get to know you as a person, and not just a worker drone. For instance, talking about books, movies, music, news topics, restaurants, etc. From discussions of topics unrelated to work you can determine a lot about the character of an individual. This leads to the issue at hand, where in one interview I mentioned I appreciated science fiction, so the interviewers (there were three) asked me if I meant Star Trek and Star Wars. With no offense to them whatsoever (they are very good people), and on offense to Stars, either Wars or Trek (thanks, Donaghy), those are not science fiction, not by a long shot. They are "Space Magic."
Science Fiction: Science fiction is the genre wherein the reader/viewer is asked to accept a few key changes in the world, whether they be the early death of a historical figure, the longer life of a historical figure, that a war turned out differently, that a piece of technology exists that has not been invented yet, is impossible, or was not invented at that time, or changes / adds to the laws of nature in a certain way. The rest of the story then systematically -- and carefully -- explores the bounds of this new reality, and makes sure not to have the reader accept more and more leaps of faith and logic. In other words, the premises of the real world are changed, but logic and reasoning remain consistent. Examples: Heinlein, Asimov, Stephenson, and, yes, even Anne Rice. Seriously, that actually enhances my point. Simply because there is a "magical" reason for Rice's vampires does not mean that she is constantly inventing new mechanisms, or has inconsistent back story, or fills in gaps in comic-book style (more below), but, rather, has a very interesting, totally consistent back story to how Vampires came to be, and, given that back story, the way they behave makes a whole lot of sense.
Space Magic: Space magic consists of stories that have none of the consistent reasoning or rigorous logic mentioned above, but rely on a consistent stream of deus ex machina, draped in the veil of pseudo-scientific jargon. This is eloquently explained with a quote from the Futurama Episode "Where No Fan Has Gone Before":
Fry: Usually on the show, they came up with a complicated plan, then explained it with a simple analogy.
Leela: Hmmm... If we can re-route engine power through the primary weapons and configure them to Melllvar's frequency, that should overload his electro-quantum structure.
Bender: Like putting too much air in a balloon!
Fry: Of course! It's all so simple!
That is space-magic. There is no scientific reasoning at all, just a situation that, by all common sense, should result in the death of our heroes, but, with a bit of scientific jargon, and a bunch of flashing lights, the enemy explodes.
Caption: They explode like this. BTW, combustion does not work in space, so, yeah. There's that too.
Another elegant explanation can be found at Seanbaby (one of the internet's funniest sites), in his description of the idiocy of Superman:
Superman had at least 150 powers, and the writers were making up two or three more every episode. If a script called for it, Superman would leak paste out of his ears that can control the weather. His fingernails might cure cancer and create food, he may never remember....
Superman didn't go to school, and neither did the runaway Malaysian children that animated him. They must have picked a few science words up in the cartoon sweatshop, though; because sometimes Superman tried to explain the insane shit he did. It was almost lovable how confident he would sound when he did things like rub his hands together to make a tractor fly and say, "Murmur blahblah mur... FRICTION will blah molecule mumble REVERSAL GRAVITY!"
If you haven't read Seanbaby's post on Superman, follow the link above and read it, because it is hi-larious.
This means that, in essence, shoes like Star Trek and Serenity/Firefly have more in common with Xena and Harry Potter than they do with 2001 or, yes, Battlestar.
In other words, just because something is in space, doesn't make it science fiction, and just because there is magic involved or it is in Medieval times does not make it "magical." It is about exploring a new set of premises v. making the audience consistently take leaps of faith and feeding them a series of miracle-saves.
Dig?
Note: Star Wars actually doesn't make you take too many leaps of faith, at least not the original three. The new ones... well... yeah. Whatever.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Beard Growing
Those of you who, like me, have never really let a beard grow out should heed some advice.
Those among you who have grown real beards will tell you: "the itchy phase ends." Allow me to assure you that this is merely a semantic point. The itchy phase, proper, does end. But it is replaced by a phase marked by an oddly disconcerting feeling every time you move your face. While this is not technically one of "itchiness," it is related, and let me tell you it is just as pervasive and just as annoying (if not more so).
We all know that shaving sucks. So lets just stick to stubble, ok?
Those among you who have grown real beards will tell you: "the itchy phase ends." Allow me to assure you that this is merely a semantic point. The itchy phase, proper, does end. But it is replaced by a phase marked by an oddly disconcerting feeling every time you move your face. While this is not technically one of "itchiness," it is related, and let me tell you it is just as pervasive and just as annoying (if not more so).
We all know that shaving sucks. So lets just stick to stubble, ok?
Friday, October 2, 2009
Pikckle
I recently opened a jar of pickles. It was bad. Let me restate that: I opened a jar of bad pickles.
Pickles are invincible, they never die, rot, decay, sour, degrade, or (most importantly) become anything other than pickles.
This I know. Or, at least, I knew. Or, I thought I knew. If I knew anything, it was that. But now, that is gone.
If pickles can decay, so can anything else so can anything I thought to be real my belief in everything is shaken shaken to the root to the core beyond sentences
Hell, I only even post this because I have begun to doubt my knowledge that no one reads this blog!. Ugh. Fuck all. Time to obliterate the rest of my propositional thoughts with alcohol.
Pickles are invincible, they never die, rot, decay, sour, degrade, or (most importantly) become anything other than pickles.
This I know. Or, at least, I knew. Or, I thought I knew. If I knew anything, it was that. But now, that is gone.
If pickles can decay, so can anything else so can anything I thought to be real my belief in everything is shaken shaken to the root to the core beyond sentences
Hell, I only even post this because I have begun to doubt my knowledge that no one reads this blog!. Ugh. Fuck all. Time to obliterate the rest of my propositional thoughts with alcohol.
It's the little logical impossilitities of life,
Frequently, when I buy coffee, I am asked something along the lines of "do you want room for cream?"
Of course, I do want creme. But I don't want as much as they think I do. So I am only left with one option: that I do want creme, but I don't want room for it. But it is a logical impossibility that I want a substance that takes up no space.
It is, of course, excruciating to me to face this conceptual impossibility so often.
Though, not as excruciating as getting an ounce less coffee than I paid for.
Of course, I do want creme. But I don't want as much as they think I do. So I am only left with one option: that I do want creme, but I don't want room for it. But it is a logical impossibility that I want a substance that takes up no space.
It is, of course, excruciating to me to face this conceptual impossibility so often.
Though, not as excruciating as getting an ounce less coffee than I paid for.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Watson and Crick weren't so great . . .
You know what they did, right? They modeled the structure of a protein.
That's not cool. That's organic chemistry. It's boring.
I can't imagine anything more boring than organic chemistry.
Edit: Just to demonstrate that I live what I write, a true dialogue between me and a friend. Call him/her Philonous:
That's not cool. That's organic chemistry. It's boring.
I can't imagine anything more boring than organic chemistry.
Edit: Just to demonstrate that I live what I write, a true dialogue between me and a friend. Call him/her Philonous:
11:00 PM Philonous: nice post on organic chem
me: it is boring
11:01 PM Philonous: i've heard difficult
11:02 PM me: difficult only because it is so dumb
Saturday, September 5, 2009
A Complete Collection of Inappropriately Named Scientific Professions
1.) Metaphysician: Metaphysicist, or private practice doctor who only treats other doctors?
2.) Paleontology: The ontology of old things. But somehow they restricted themselves to animals and flint napping. I hardly think that is a complete ontology for x years ago (with 3000 < x < 2000000000). Where's the account of true being?
3.) Ecologist/Economist: Evidently, economists are concerned with the laws (nomos) of our environs. Ecologists are concerned with the rhetoric or rational debate (logos) of our environs. Ya. Sure. Whatever.
4.) Cosmology/Cosmetology: Ha!
That is all.
2.) Paleontology: The ontology of old things. But somehow they restricted themselves to animals and flint napping. I hardly think that is a complete ontology for x years ago (with 3000 < x < 2000000000). Where's the account of true being?
3.) Ecologist/Economist: Evidently, economists are concerned with the laws (nomos) of our environs. Ecologists are concerned with the rhetoric or rational debate (logos) of our environs. Ya. Sure. Whatever.
4.) Cosmology/Cosmetology: Ha!
That is all.
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