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Here are the most recenr three entries on my Facebook friends page. These people are, I should point out, from three entirely different social circles, and thus not actually replying to each other:

(Friend1) loves her city.
(Friend2) wants to go to there.
(Friend3): Dallas? Here I come. See you Friday.
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My current phone is getting battered enough that I am thinking about replacing it. I've been a Palm OS user for many years, but Palm OS is going away soon, so it seems like I should probably figure out what OS I'm moving to next. The major contenders seem to be Windows Mobile, Android, Blackberry, and WebOS. (A keyboard is an absolute must, which is why no iPhone.) Anyone out there want to evangelize (or demonize) any of these?
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http://www.postmodernbarney.com/2009/04/uncomfortable-plot-summaries/

Some of my favorites:
FREAKS: Acrobat learns value of community.
METROPOLIS: Efficient society undone by unions.
STAR WARS: A NEW HOPE: Religious extremist terrorists destroy government installation, killing thousands.
V FOR VENDETTA: Dystopian government overthrown by faceless conformity.
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I occasionally claim that some of my dreams clearly *should* have gone to [livejournal.com profile] kestrell, but ended up in my brain by accident somehow. Last night, however, I seem to have gotten some of [livejournal.com profile] learnedax's dreams. The 'anxiety about learning all my lines for the play' motif *could* legitimately have been mine -- but it was immediately followed by 'anxiety about not having enough time to pack', and it is *he* who is moving today, not me! Also, far more LARP content in last night's dreams than is quite warranted for someone who has been out of that scene for ages. Methinks Morpheus got his Dorchester Alexen confused.

Hey, [livejournal.com profile] learnedax, did you get dreams about Game Design last night? Or was it a three-way mixup, with you getting dreams about Burlesque, and [livejournal.com profile] new_man getting my dreams?
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Why Shakespeare and Baseball Are Spoken in the Same Language from Michael Anderson on Vimeo.
A spoken word piece on Shakespeare, the formation of language, and impressing British girls with baseball chatter.

Michael Anderson at the Connecticut Storytelling Festival, April 25, 2009

Video and audio are a little rough, in part because I smash the lapel mic repeatedly during the piece. I rationalize this as a cyber-punk statement against bourgeois production values!
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I was friends with one of the major photographers on the Yearbook committee, so I show up a lot in this one, one way and another.

The first shot I recognize, however, is not of me, but of something I helped contribute to. Mr. Hellen, a math teacher and coach of the Math Team (which I was on) was particularly tolerant of student eccentricities. A bunch of us ended up turning one corner of his classroom into a sort of abstract sculpture, with strange things written on the chalkboard, and random objects piled on each other in the corner. An upside-down chair, a unicycle wheel, an abacus, a Gumby doll...

Someone on the yearbook committee also contributed various sketches, and I show up, scarfed and buttoned, with a word balloon from one of my Dexter Prize Speaking Contest entries. The story in question was a satirical piece by Norman Spinrad, "The Age of Invention". I recently came across a copy and reread it for the first time in years. I didn't remember it having such a sterotypically flaming gay character in it. I wonder if I performed him like that at the time, or if I was just too naive to catch the references, or if I chickened out and played him more straight? Memory fails...
ETA: An old classmate on Facebook writes: "...and for your memory, you didn't miss the overtly gay characterization in your Dexter speech senior year; A gutsy move in High School." Yeah, I guess it was. Go Young Me!

The Fall show was a musical for a change: "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown". This was my first and only lead in HS theater, and a very mixed experience. My early history made me well-equipped to empathize with the role of Charlie Brown, and I think I gave a good performance. But inhabiting that character for so many weeks was unpleasant, and detrimental to my mental health. And I performed without my glasses, which was also stressful. For the show, I shaved off my nascent beard, one of only two times I have ever shaved.

The Winter show was "Wait Until Dark". I had but a minor role ("Cop"), but I was proud to be involved at all in such a great production. We had great actors in both lead roles, and the climactic battle in the darkness was truly terrifying.

The Spring musical was "Godspell", and I was in the Chorus. The director said up front: "The only reason to ever do this show is to show off your energy and enthusiasm, so let's do that." We did, and it was pretty good.

My senior photo stood out from those around it. My eyes are very sensitive to light changes, so it proved impossible to take a flash photo of me with my eyes open. They eventually sent me to the photo studio to have it doen with bright ambient light, so I got a more interesting background, and a little extra time to prep. I sat in a big wicker chair (just like the White Guardian in Doctor Who!). I had my scarf, of course, and a Worcester Academy 150th Anniversary button -- upside down :-)

That was a specially-made-up button, with no plastic cover, so it would photograph without glare. I had been involved in the button-making operation, due to my experience with the equipment. Around that time, I would feed my addiction to nancybuttons by working for her during cons, and getting paid in trade :-) Even my quotation was from a nancybutton: "The meek will inherit the Earth -- the rest of us will go to the stars!"

Looking through the pictures of the other Seniors, I am always amazed at how few of them I actually knew. On the other hand, there were several friends, many 'friendly acquaintances', and few enemies. My best friends were never of 'my' actual year, always older and younger. Which is a big part of why I haven't bothered going to reunions before now.

In the Class Superlatives, I was voted "Most Unforgettable". In those days, I was aggressively weird and non-conformist, so I saw that as a vindication. I guess at the reunion, I'll see if people actually do remember me...

There's a photo of me in the lunchroom, where they caught me in mid-motion of handing a hat to someone else. It looks like I'm holding the hat out and talking to it, so they captioned it "Alex's invisible friend." There's another picture of me on the quad, throwing a floppy frisbee, captioned "Alex Kay-Sportsman of the Year!"

Man, my hair may not yet have been long, but it sure was unruly.

A few pictures of the Cum Laude ceremony, with me, as always, in my scarf. No actual pictures of me at the Graduation Ceremony proper, but I do have a relevant memory. I was wearing my scarf over my robes, and wondering if I was actually going to get away with that. When they called my name, I walked up, and the Headmaster -- didn't immediately hand over the diploma, somewhat panicking me! Instead, he gave me an ironic little bow. My acting instincts (or something) kicked in, and rather than displaying panic, I bowed right back, and he handed me my diploma. Win!

One of the last pictures in the yearbook is me standing next to Ms. Willey's desk, which makes me glad. She was my favorite teacher there (Latin), and a cool enough lady that she often went out to SF movies with us. What tipped me over into deciding to go to this reunion is that she is being inducted into the WA Hall of Fame as part of the ceremony.
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Reposting this in my own LJ by request, adapted from comment threads elsewhere.

Many of my friends deplore the anti-gay-marriage protesters. They frequently say things like, "There is no reason for them to worry so much about what other people do. What we do has no impact on them. So why are they irrationally fighting us so much?"

Actually, it's not irrational at all. While acceptance of gay marriage may not *directly* impact anyone else's marriage, it *does* undermine the axioms which their whole world-view (including, but not limited to, the nature of marriage) is based on.

This is a long article talking about what I mean. It's well worth reading all of, but here's two key excerpts:
Same-sex marriage. The husband/father and wife/mother roles in the Inherited Obligation model are timeless, unchangeable, and necessary. Someone has to be the husband/father and someone has to be the wife/mother. Same-sex couples just can’t cover both roles, no matter how well-intentioned they may be.

But no comparable difficulty exists in the Negotiated Commitment model. A child has needs, and the parents have to negotiate a plan to meet those needs. Whether the parents are a mixed-sex couple or a same-sex couple - or even a single parent with a lot of committed friends - the problem is the same.

If the government recognizes same-sex marriages and same-sex couples as parents, then it is tacitly siding with the Negotiated Commitment model of marriage and parenthood, and undermining the Inherited Obligation model. This is why conservatives believe that marriage needs to be “defended” from same-sex relationships. But from the Negotiated Commitment point of view, “defense of marriage” is nonsense. How a same-sex couple negotiates its relationship has no effect on the negotiated relationships of mixed-sex couples.


Should We Just Give Up?

As I have discussed these ideas with my friends, surprisingly often they jump to the conclusion that I’m advocating surrender. “So what are saying? That they’re right? What do you want us to do, give up?”

Not at all. But I am saying that we have to drop our self-image as nice guys. The mere fact that people think I’m advocating surrender demonstrates just how attached we are to that image. It’s comforting to think that we only want what’s best for everybody, and that the only reason people oppose us is because they’re stupid. But it’s not true.

Liberals have a vision of how the world should be. I believe in that vision. It is a fairer, more just world than has ever existed before. It is better adjusted to the realities of modern life. And it is, in my opinion, the only vision of the future that does not eventually lead to competing fundamentalisms fighting a world war.

But no matter how peaceful and good our vision is, eggs will be broken to make our omelet. Eggs have already been broken. We need to take responsibility for that. And we can’t expect people with cartons of half-broken eggs to simply shrug and let us do our thing.
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My 25th High School Reunion is coming up in a few weeks, and I'm actually going, for once. Last night, I started looking through my old yearbooks to spark memories.

Read more... )
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I was talking more with [livejournal.com profile] kestrell about possible sources for the "witches all have stuffed alligators hanging from the ceiling" trope. She opined that many such odd notions have their origin in Shakespeare, which seemed worth following up on.

A quick google of "alligator shakespeare" produced the information that Shakespeare is credited with first *use* of the word alligator, at least in more-or-less its modern form! And then I looked up that first use, and found...

Romeo & Juliet, V.i
I do remember an Appothacarie,
And here abouts a dwells which late I noted,
In tattred weeds with ouerwhelming browes,
Culling of simples, meager were his lookes,
Sharpe miserie had worne him to the bones:
And in his needie shop a tortoyes hung,
An allegater stuft
, and other skins
Of ill shapte fishes, and about his shelues,
A beggerly account of emptie boxes,
Greene earthen pots, bladders and mustie seedes,
Remnants of packthred, and old cakes of Roses
Were thinly scattered, to make vp a shew.
Noting this penury, to my selfe I said,
An if a man did need a poyson now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here liues a Catiffe wretch would sell it him.
Now, in its original context, Romeo is clearly saying, "This guy's shop was so run-down, pathetic, and shabby, that I figured he was desperately poor, and thus would be willing to sell me poison." But one can easily see how the folk process could twist that into, "This is guy is evil, and will thus sell me poison," and from there to, "Romeo can tell this guy is evil *because* of the kinds of things hanging in his shop; they must be the sort of things evil poisoners (i.e. witches) always have."

I'd still be interested in tracking down, if possible, the intermediate steps that first made (or popularized) those memetic mutations. But I am confident that that's the primal source, and basic evolution of the notion.
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(Sorry, [livejournal.com profile] kestrell, but both of these are primarily about the visuals.)

A Wolf Loves Pork. Cool formal use of stop-motion animation.

Extremely small-scale knitting. The woman who (among other things) knit the sweaters for Coraline.
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The other day, [livejournal.com profile] kestrell and I were on the way home on the T. Across from us was a small girl, around 10, accompanied by an older woman, possibly mom or elder sister. The girl was playing with a small stuffed alligator.

I mentioned this to Kes, and speculated (quietly) about the possibility that the young girl was a witch. Since, after all, everyone knows that stuffed alligators are one of the de rigeur props of the proper witch. We then chatted for a while about where this custom might have originated.

[Digression: I have since searched online. Surprisingly, Wikipedia failed me. Google Books did turn up a reference in _The Fatal Gift_, by F. Frankfort Moore, 1898, but it seems to be a well-established trope already by then.]

At any rate, Kes started talking about how, despite her large collection of gothy and/or fearsome stuffed animals, she as yet had no stuffed alligator, and should probably remedy this.

The little girl, meanwhile, was wandering up and down the aisle with her toy. We were no longer speaking particularly quietly, and I guess the girl's mom/sister(?) overheard us. When the little girl next came by, the older woman whispered in her ear for a bit. Then the girl stepped across to us, holding out the alligator to Kestrell.

I said, in some wonderment, "Kes, you are being offered a stuffed alligator!" There followed some confusion and miscommunication, as Kes wanted to pay for it, and the girl wanted to give it away as a gift. Eventually Kes was convinced to accept the alligator.

Kes spent the rest of the ride playing with it, opening and closing its (spring-loaded) jaws. She said she felt a little guilty, but I said, "You're smiling, I'm smiling, and the little girl across the aisle is smiling to see us smile. I think we're good here."

So now my sweetie has a stuffed alligator. Anyone have any ideas what it ought to be named?
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Had a dream last night in which I was playing a game which was a cross between Spore and Grand Theft Auto. Liberty City was full of purple octopuses, all well armed...
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Beautiful young Flaminia wants to get laid. Francescina, her nurse, wants her to preserve her virginity. Then, the Commedia troupe arrives in town, and wackiness ensues.

While drawing on the Commedia traditions, this is not bound by them, and the play is not, itself, Commedia. It *is* a great deal of fun. Also, it is vulgar, crude, and there in no joke too cheap for it to descend to. No significant nudity, but lots of groping, and more vivid language and plot than you would see in an ICOD performance. To my mind, these are virtues :-) Certainly, I can't recall previously seeing a play that so celebrated the joys of sodomy as a recurring plot point.

There's an interesting if minor sub-theme about the traveling shows being pushed out of favor by the up-and-coming theaters, with their complex, scripted productions. Which is of course rather reflexive, as this show is in just such a theater, and now subject to the same sort of cultural shoving-to-the-sidelines itself.

Of particular interest to locals who are past fans of i Sebastiani: One of the female roles is played by Lucy DeVito, who is a dead ringer for [livejournal.com profile] buzybee/Joan Vacluse de Villaquemada. (Also, apparently, the offspring of Danny DeVito and Rhea Perlman.)

Ignore the poor-to-middling print reviews from uptight theater critics. This is a fun, funny play.
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Grand vistas, but grim storytelling.

*Lots* of spoilers here )

To paraphrase [livejournal.com profile] rickthefightguy quoting The Princess Bride: "Geez, grampa! Why'd you tell me this story?" What reason is there for this book to exist? What was he trying to say that was worth hundred of pages of prose to say it?

I read this because I have heard many people whose opinions I respect recommend Banks, especially his Culture novels, of which this is the first. But I gotta say that there's nothing in this one for me. So a question for those who have read more of them: Do any of the others contain at least *some* of the elements I like?

Not Recommended.
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An exciting technothriller.

Dagmar Shaw is a game designer; a writer for a company specializing in ARGs. While wrapping up production on a live event in Asia, she ends up trapped in a country undergoing economic collapse and violent revolution. The U.S. government can't rescue her, and neither can her rich employer. But the Group Mind of thousands of game players, distributed around the world, can do things that these centralized powers cannot, if they can be convinced to help. Blurring the boundary between game and reality turns out to be a powerful tool -- and one that can be used for evil as well as good. Corpses and countries both start to fall, as Dagmar races to find the truth before it's "Game Over" for the whole world.

WJW uses a cute trope throughout, where each chapter is titled "This is not X", where the X is a new word or phrase. In each case the subject of the chapter initially looks like it is going to be X, but turns out not to be. If hi previous book was all about Implied Spaces, this one is in some sense about negative spaces -- about what is left when he takes away or subverts what you are expecting to have happen.

While marketed as near-future SF, one could easily say "This is Not Science Fiction". There's very little tech that can't be bought off-the-shelf today, and what there is of it is less plausibility-stretching than most James Bond McGuffins (though that may be damning with faint praise).

Interesting, flawed characters, though almost entirely sympathetic ones. Passes the Bechdel Test easily, though there are still a lot more men than women in the plot.

Recommended.
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Game Developer Magazine's latest issue features the results of their annual salary survey. Although there are caveats involved with any set of self-reported data, I think at least the relationships between different subsets of data are likely to be accurate. And I noticed something that surprised me in the table "Average Salary by Education and Discipline".

In all disciplines, those who completed "Some College" make significantly *more* than those who completed a Bachelor's Degree. Those who went on to "Some Graduate" made even *less* than those with Bachelor's.

Actually *completing* a Master's Degree gets you a salary roughly comparable to "Some College", though in some disciplines it's a bit less, in some a bit more. In none is it *enough* more to suggest being worth the investment.

At the Doctoral level, only Programmers reported anything. "Some Doctoral" makes more money than "Some College" -- but an actual Doctorate makes *less*.

So, if you're a college student who wants a successful career in the games industry, apparently the best thing you can do is drop out!
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Fascinating pair of interviews, ranging over neuroscience, game psychology, ethics, futurism, and other interesting topics.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7G0fPb-w-0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFiT9p6NkxQ
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I hope we finish pre-production on this project soon. I've been in it so long that, the other night, I dreamed I was writing up a detailed design spec for a tuna sandwich.

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Alexx Kay

May 2009

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