26 August 2005
03 August 2005
27 July 2005
wednesday door blogging
This is the point in the summer when my brain becomes all jelly-like and I feel it is best to just look at some pictures. These doors are from the Williamsburg (aka Hipsterville) section of Brooklyn.
20 July 2005
15 July 2005
nerdy feminist sex workers
Here's an intreresting article from indymedia about rich college students who are part-time sex workers ("hobby whores"). The rub (no pun intended) is that they pimp themselves over craigslist. One of the women in the story is a urine fetish specialist.
Here are some key moments in the story:
"They began with lower-caliber jobs like massage and run-of-the-mill cleaning. They soon realized that they could get away with quicker jobs if they only eroded their boundaries. 'It takes two seconds to pee on someone, and three more seconds to get their money and leave,' said Phoebe, the hardest part is pretending its normal for me to do it."
"Like 70% of the workers on the report, the girls want to abandon the business eventually for legitimate career plans. In the meantime their biggest fear is neither rape nor the police, but their parents. 'I dont care who knows it. In fact I kind of like talking about it,' said Phoebe,' 'But if my parents find out Im fucked."
Here are some key moments in the story:
"They began with lower-caliber jobs like massage and run-of-the-mill cleaning. They soon realized that they could get away with quicker jobs if they only eroded their boundaries. 'It takes two seconds to pee on someone, and three more seconds to get their money and leave,' said Phoebe, the hardest part is pretending its normal for me to do it."
"Like 70% of the workers on the report, the girls want to abandon the business eventually for legitimate career plans. In the meantime their biggest fear is neither rape nor the police, but their parents. 'I dont care who knows it. In fact I kind of like talking about it,' said Phoebe,' 'But if my parents find out Im fucked."
27 June 2005
bouillon de culture questionnaire
Since James Lipton will likely never interview me (nor will Will Farrell), I thought it was about time that I answered the questionnaire made famous by Bernard Pivot on Bouillon de Culture:
1. What is your favorite word?
Cattywampus.
2. What is your least favorite word?
Debt.
3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
The need to experiment when I don't know an answer to something.
4. What turns you off?
The ideology of "paying your dues."
5. What is your favorite curse word?
Fuck.
6. What sound or noise do you love?
Ocean waves.
7. What sound or noise do you hate?
Car alarms.
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Graphic design and/or starting an independent record label.
9. What profession would you not like to do?
Surgery.
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
"First round's on me."
1. What is your favorite word?
Cattywampus.
2. What is your least favorite word?
Debt.
3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
The need to experiment when I don't know an answer to something.
4. What turns you off?
The ideology of "paying your dues."
5. What is your favorite curse word?
Fuck.
6. What sound or noise do you love?
Ocean waves.
7. What sound or noise do you hate?
Car alarms.
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Graphic design and/or starting an independent record label.
9. What profession would you not like to do?
Surgery.
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
"First round's on me."
26 June 2005
the secret wisdom of students
I love it when a student writes something seemingly simple which actually cuts through a lot of the denisty of theory and gets to the bright, shiny point. In the middle of an essay exam answer (about the relationship between rhetoric, the free market, globalization, and US power) one student tweaked the invisible hand metaphor this way: "the hidden (secret) hand of the market will never work without a hidden fist."
16 June 2005
12 June 2005
sunday anhinga blogging
Our street is a circle that runs around a pond that used to be used to water cattle on the way to the port before the neighborhood was built in the 1920s. Now, the pond attracts a lot of bird life.
09 June 2005
thursday chicken blogging
This is our neighborhood rooster, Layne, tending to some ducklings this afternoon.
06 May 2005
biography of phobias
The end of the semester seems like the perfect time to reflect briefly on my personal relationship with the world. What better way to do this than via the things that freak me out?
1. Fear: Choking on food. Source: I remember getting freaked out by choking after learning about it and the Heimlich maneuver in school. I used to dream both about choking and about not being able to Heimlich someone who was choking.
2. Fear: brain tumor. Source: In my high school Thanatology course (i.e., death and dying), we watched a documentary about someone with terminal cancer. I remember that the film was about a woman who had some sort of brain cancer. She had lost all of her hair and the side of her skull had caved in. The caved in skull freaked me out.
3. Fear: lightning. Source: I now live in one of the most active lightning areas in the world. When Yidg and I were on campus for the first time (getting IDs and all that) there was a storm and a professor was struck dead. People are struck dead every year. And we get a lot of sudden thunderstorms. You should see the frantic sprint I will take from car to front door when it is storming.
4. Fear: murky bodies of water. Source: there are two from my formative years. The first was the movie Jaws. This has to do with not being able to see the things in the water that will take a big bite of flesh off my body. The second one (another source of nightmares like choking) was what seemed like endless warnings in the 70s about swimming in ponds or lakes and getting caught in the underwater plant life and drowning. So, I guess this is two fears: drowning and getting eaten by aquatic wildlife.
5. Fear: being an untalented scholar. Source: the disparity between getting heaps of praise and high expectations in my graduate program and the reality of high volume rejections/mysterious requirements of blind review journal publishing. From this dissonance between praise and rejection, I have developed a fear of writing.
updated to add:
6. Highschool fear: herpes (pre-AIDS). Those sex ed classes freaked me out about herpes. Because it was permanent and painful and you had to wear it on your face like a badge of shame (and that was the good kind of herpes).
1. Fear: Choking on food. Source: I remember getting freaked out by choking after learning about it and the Heimlich maneuver in school. I used to dream both about choking and about not being able to Heimlich someone who was choking.
2. Fear: brain tumor. Source: In my high school Thanatology course (i.e., death and dying), we watched a documentary about someone with terminal cancer. I remember that the film was about a woman who had some sort of brain cancer. She had lost all of her hair and the side of her skull had caved in. The caved in skull freaked me out.
3. Fear: lightning. Source: I now live in one of the most active lightning areas in the world. When Yidg and I were on campus for the first time (getting IDs and all that) there was a storm and a professor was struck dead. People are struck dead every year. And we get a lot of sudden thunderstorms. You should see the frantic sprint I will take from car to front door when it is storming.
4. Fear: murky bodies of water. Source: there are two from my formative years. The first was the movie Jaws. This has to do with not being able to see the things in the water that will take a big bite of flesh off my body. The second one (another source of nightmares like choking) was what seemed like endless warnings in the 70s about swimming in ponds or lakes and getting caught in the underwater plant life and drowning. So, I guess this is two fears: drowning and getting eaten by aquatic wildlife.
5. Fear: being an untalented scholar. Source: the disparity between getting heaps of praise and high expectations in my graduate program and the reality of high volume rejections/mysterious requirements of blind review journal publishing. From this dissonance between praise and rejection, I have developed a fear of writing.
updated to add:
6. Highschool fear: herpes (pre-AIDS). Those sex ed classes freaked me out about herpes. Because it was permanent and painful and you had to wear it on your face like a badge of shame (and that was the good kind of herpes).
03 May 2005
the medium is the message; or, whither the shame of formality?
Several people among our academic blogging group has expressed frustration at the gibberish shorthand of text messaging that has increasingly overtaken student emails that seemingly shoul dbe more formal. So, to extend the discussion, I submit the following email that I received today 2.5 hours after my final exam ended. It was sent, of course, by someone in the class who failed to show up.
Quoting a student who I think is in a position where formality is paramount:
"hello.
im sry to announce but i just realized this mornign that my early morning exam overlapped with yours, and i thought i would finish early and then come to take yours, but i didnt, and i didnt know wat to do, then i had to turn around and have an exam from 1-3 so i couldnt notify anyone. is there any way possible for me to make up this exam?? thank you so much for understanding."
I would like to add that the final exams scheduled at my time slot were only available for courses that met at 11:00 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So, the only way I can see that there was a conflict is if the student was taking two courses that were scheduled at the same time (barring, of course, a teacher who decided to make up his or her own exam schedule).
If you don't have the time or energy to actually spell out full words (I will and always do forgive the occassional typo),. it becomes very hard to take you seriously. Sry dude, you need a bttr stry.
Quoting a student who I think is in a position where formality is paramount:
"hello.
im sry to announce but i just realized this mornign that my early morning exam overlapped with yours, and i thought i would finish early and then come to take yours, but i didnt, and i didnt know wat to do, then i had to turn around and have an exam from 1-3 so i couldnt notify anyone. is there any way possible for me to make up this exam?? thank you so much for understanding."
I would like to add that the final exams scheduled at my time slot were only available for courses that met at 11:00 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So, the only way I can see that there was a conflict is if the student was taking two courses that were scheduled at the same time (barring, of course, a teacher who decided to make up his or her own exam schedule).
If you don't have the time or energy to actually spell out full words (I will and always do forgive the occassional typo),. it becomes very hard to take you seriously. Sry dude, you need a bttr stry.
11 April 2005
Scrivener makes my life easy
My Unitarian Jihad names are (depending on my overall mood):
The Broadsword of Mild Reason (good days)
The Atom Bomb of Moderation (bad days)
The Broadsword of Mild Reason (good days)
The Atom Bomb of Moderation (bad days)
05 April 2005
SOSSM and definition of kinesthesis
People visited my blog recently via the following searches:
#1 idiot
Kathy Acker
cops can't dance
emily durkheim (yes, the lesser known sister; she's about as famous as Jesus' little brother Gabby Christ)
micro burst weather
horsecock
lightning brand canning jars
kinesthesis (10 people came to me after searching for the definition of kinesthesis. I think that I will actually post a definition of kinesthesis below so that their searches are completed more efficiently).
kinesthesis n. 1. The sensation of movement in the body, sometimes referred to as "muscle sense." The perception of such sensations. The French phenomenologist Maurice Merleau Ponty discusses this phenomenon as proprioception, or a perception of one's own body (as a distinct object of and for experience, thereby to be distinguished from the brute physical reality of one's own body that Gilles Deleuze calls "The Meat"). Also , kinaesthesia and kinesthesia. 2. ~ breakthrough n. the name of an academic blog that, to borrow a phrase from a blogging mathematician, is "not too thinky." Though the proper name of this blog was derived from a list of gibberish in a spam email, the author of this blog became smitten with the suggestiveness of the phrase and its implications for the possibilities of discovery and the pursuit of new paradigms of bodily movement and experience.
#1 idiot
Kathy Acker
cops can't dance
emily durkheim (yes, the lesser known sister; she's about as famous as Jesus' little brother Gabby Christ)
micro burst weather
horsecock
lightning brand canning jars
kinesthesis (10 people came to me after searching for the definition of kinesthesis. I think that I will actually post a definition of kinesthesis below so that their searches are completed more efficiently).
kinesthesis n. 1. The sensation of movement in the body, sometimes referred to as "muscle sense." The perception of such sensations. The French phenomenologist Maurice Merleau Ponty discusses this phenomenon as proprioception, or a perception of one's own body (as a distinct object of and for experience, thereby to be distinguished from the brute physical reality of one's own body that Gilles Deleuze calls "The Meat"). Also , kinaesthesia and kinesthesia. 2. ~ breakthrough n. the name of an academic blog that, to borrow a phrase from a blogging mathematician, is "not too thinky." Though the proper name of this blog was derived from a list of gibberish in a spam email, the author of this blog became smitten with the suggestiveness of the phrase and its implications for the possibilities of discovery and the pursuit of new paradigms of bodily movement and experience.
24 March 2005
now the chronicle of higher ed is ripping me off
In early February, I wrote four posts that I called the "academic neuroses files" (see Willy Loman Syndrome for an example). Today, Professor Yidg shows me the March 4th Chronicle Review, in which a couple of hacks published a few "advanced symptoms for advanced degrees." I'm incensed! Such blatant theivery. And in the Chronicle of Higher Ed! Where is the outrage! The OUTRAGE!
Well, I think I've stumbled upon another academic neurosis, Original Spin: the obsessive, nearly paranoid need to try to take credit for coming up with ideas that have clearly been thought-up, rehashed, and recycled endlessly; well, certainly longer than you or I had even thought about being an academic. Sufferers will defend their false and faulty claim more vociferously than they will pursue actual original work, turning to the teachings of the Sophists, Self-helpists, and Spin-doctorists as a last-ditch effort to live up to the ultimate measure of academic success: being interesting. Original Spin is really a global malady, as it seaps into the afflicted's overall perceptual environment. Luckily, original spin is similar to the chicken pox, as nearly everyone will catch it at some point. Most people recover fairly quickly, with little scarring. Experts note that it's much better to catch it early in one's career than later on when it can be quite dangerous.
Well, I think I've stumbled upon another academic neurosis, Original Spin: the obsessive, nearly paranoid need to try to take credit for coming up with ideas that have clearly been thought-up, rehashed, and recycled endlessly; well, certainly longer than you or I had even thought about being an academic. Sufferers will defend their false and faulty claim more vociferously than they will pursue actual original work, turning to the teachings of the Sophists, Self-helpists, and Spin-doctorists as a last-ditch effort to live up to the ultimate measure of academic success: being interesting. Original Spin is really a global malady, as it seaps into the afflicted's overall perceptual environment. Luckily, original spin is similar to the chicken pox, as nearly everyone will catch it at some point. Most people recover fairly quickly, with little scarring. Experts note that it's much better to catch it early in one's career than later on when it can be quite dangerous.
06 March 2005
the stupidity of cleverness
Perhaps a lesson for Liberals is buried in the observations of Horkheimer and Adorno: "One of the lessons of the Hitler period is the stupidity of cleverness. How many were the expert arguments with which Jews dismissed the likelihood of Hitler's rise, when it was already as clear as daylight. [. . .] And in any case, according to the clever people, fascism was impossible in the West. Clever people have always made things easy for barbarians, because they are so stupid. It is well-informed, farsighted judgments, the prognoses based on statistics and experience, the observations which begin: "I happen to be an expert in this field," it is the well-founded, conclusive statements which are untrue."
Continuing, "The medium of traditional bourgeois intelligence, discussion, is in decline. Even individuals can no longer converse, and know it; that is why they have turned card games into a serious, responsible institution that calls on all their powers, so that although there are no conversations, the silence goes unheard. It is no different on the big stage. A fascist does not like to be spoken to. When others have their say, he takes it as an impudent interruption. He is impervious to reason because he recognizes it only in concessions made by others."
Continuing, "The medium of traditional bourgeois intelligence, discussion, is in decline. Even individuals can no longer converse, and know it; that is why they have turned card games into a serious, responsible institution that calls on all their powers, so that although there are no conversations, the silence goes unheard. It is no different on the big stage. A fascist does not like to be spoken to. When others have their say, he takes it as an impudent interruption. He is impervious to reason because he recognizes it only in concessions made by others."
24 February 2005
will to blogger
Ok, so the Nietzsche reference isn't really relevant here, but I'm trying to will myself back into action. My cold has gotten progressively worse over the past 4 days, so the only reasonable thing to do is to will it away at this point. I will start with something simple, the upcomig 10 songs shuffling on my iTunes:
Ghost of a different dream, by guided by voices
Army of me, by Bjork
Yanqui go home, by Camper Van Beethoven
This is New, by Wilco
Easy/Lucky/Free, by bright eyes
Bride and Bridle, by The Long Winters
Keep on Runnin', by Cat Power
Sweet Caroline, by Niel Diamond
Bad Mouth, by Fugazi
Champagne from a paper cup, by Death Cab for Cutie
[editor's note: Death Cab For Cutie, whose leader also leads The Postal Service, has a live EP coming out on Tuesday. Details can be found here.]
Being chronically late on the memes, I will provide some grossly abbreviated items.
Three Things I've Done that you probably haven't:
1. Taught philosophy at the Jet Propulsion Labratory
2. Made out with twins, at the same time
3. Read A Thousand Plateaus by Deleuze and Guattari 4 times
Three Things I Haven't Done that you probably have:
1. Seen Gone with the Wind
2. Owned a car in the past 10 years
3. Read Hamlet
I said a while back that I've set up a system for playing vinyle records through a preamp and a mixer and into my computer. I've been converting all of these 7" singles I've gotten with indie music magazines into digital format so I will more likely listen to them. However, I've also converted some other strange things that I'll be able to use in my impending audio essay/performance for an upcoming conference (the piece will be about Bush and God and Voice and Machines). Recent audio additions from vinyl include a self-help record from the 50s, Earl Nightingale gives you the strangest secret; a biology/physilogy record that accompanies a plastic model of the human body, "The Talking Torso" (1968); and the Don Ameche version of "Co-Star: the record acting game--you act scenes oppopsite your favorite star" (1976). There are some great soundbites to be pirated from these gems for maximum auditory effect.
Anyway, I'm willing myself back to action. I hope to catch up on my blog reading, too. And I'll be skipping tomorrow's faculty meeting (hooray!)
Ghost of a different dream, by guided by voices
Army of me, by Bjork
Yanqui go home, by Camper Van Beethoven
This is New, by Wilco
Easy/Lucky/Free, by bright eyes
Bride and Bridle, by The Long Winters
Keep on Runnin', by Cat Power
Sweet Caroline, by Niel Diamond
Bad Mouth, by Fugazi
Champagne from a paper cup, by Death Cab for Cutie
[editor's note: Death Cab For Cutie, whose leader also leads The Postal Service, has a live EP coming out on Tuesday. Details can be found here.]
Being chronically late on the memes, I will provide some grossly abbreviated items.
Three Things I've Done that you probably haven't:
1. Taught philosophy at the Jet Propulsion Labratory
2. Made out with twins, at the same time
3. Read A Thousand Plateaus by Deleuze and Guattari 4 times
Three Things I Haven't Done that you probably have:
1. Seen Gone with the Wind
2. Owned a car in the past 10 years
3. Read Hamlet
I said a while back that I've set up a system for playing vinyle records through a preamp and a mixer and into my computer. I've been converting all of these 7" singles I've gotten with indie music magazines into digital format so I will more likely listen to them. However, I've also converted some other strange things that I'll be able to use in my impending audio essay/performance for an upcoming conference (the piece will be about Bush and God and Voice and Machines). Recent audio additions from vinyl include a self-help record from the 50s, Earl Nightingale gives you the strangest secret; a biology/physilogy record that accompanies a plastic model of the human body, "The Talking Torso" (1968); and the Don Ameche version of "Co-Star: the record acting game--you act scenes oppopsite your favorite star" (1976). There are some great soundbites to be pirated from these gems for maximum auditory effect.
Anyway, I'm willing myself back to action. I hope to catch up on my blog reading, too. And I'll be skipping tomorrow's faculty meeting (hooray!)
19 February 2005
#1 idiot
I just read this in the latest Harper's. One of the selections is titled Poetry Slams, and is a translation of three political poems published in North Korean literary journals. Here is my favorite, "#1 Idiot," by Youngbin Han (trans. Yunhee Lee):
Hey Bush,
You're famous, Mr. American President.
You're really an idiot.
Not just an idiot; you're a swanky idiot.
If they gather all the idiots under the sky
and have a contest to decide who is the real idiot,
then you should hurry and enter the contest.
I'm sure you'll win first place with no problem.
You know, idiots are usually thick-skinned
and don't feel embarrassment,
a sign that shows their stupidity.
So in this respect you are truly born stupid.
When you go to the ranch to rest for a month on a whim,
you are using the talent of yours
that no other idiots could ever have.
If there is a judge who doesn't know that,
he must not be a human from this planet.
Your greatest talent is
your audacity to start a fight with us.
Do you envy the audacity of the tiger moth
that flies into the fire not knowing
he's going to be burned to death?
There are so many different kinds of idiots,
but nobody will dare compete with you.
You have no equals
so you are surely the #1 idiot.
Ha, ha, ha, the #1 idiot is
President Bush of the U.S. now.
_______________________
Now, some parts of this poem are better than others. I welcome discussion, analysis, or critique. Personally, I thought that the "must not be a human from this planet" line was a bit sophomoric, and really did not further the rhetoric, imagery, or flow of the work. The big swinging dick moment (the fifth stanza) is also a weakness: the pissing match rhetoric reproduces the very idiocy that the author seems to be criticizing. Finally, I love the childish glee of the "ha, ha, ha" moment at the end. This is part of the poem that conjures a basic pathos of the temporary glee resulting from hurling an insult.
I'm sure that the those of you who are poets and literature professors might have something more substantial to add. And others, like the Bitch Doctor, may argue that Larry Summers or someone else deserves a fair chance at #1 idiot.
So, who should be nominated for the category of #1 idiot?
Hey Bush,
You're famous, Mr. American President.
You're really an idiot.
Not just an idiot; you're a swanky idiot.
If they gather all the idiots under the sky
and have a contest to decide who is the real idiot,
then you should hurry and enter the contest.
I'm sure you'll win first place with no problem.
You know, idiots are usually thick-skinned
and don't feel embarrassment,
a sign that shows their stupidity.
So in this respect you are truly born stupid.
When you go to the ranch to rest for a month on a whim,
you are using the talent of yours
that no other idiots could ever have.
If there is a judge who doesn't know that,
he must not be a human from this planet.
Your greatest talent is
your audacity to start a fight with us.
Do you envy the audacity of the tiger moth
that flies into the fire not knowing
he's going to be burned to death?
There are so many different kinds of idiots,
but nobody will dare compete with you.
You have no equals
so you are surely the #1 idiot.
Ha, ha, ha, the #1 idiot is
President Bush of the U.S. now.
_______________________
Now, some parts of this poem are better than others. I welcome discussion, analysis, or critique. Personally, I thought that the "must not be a human from this planet" line was a bit sophomoric, and really did not further the rhetoric, imagery, or flow of the work. The big swinging dick moment (the fifth stanza) is also a weakness: the pissing match rhetoric reproduces the very idiocy that the author seems to be criticizing. Finally, I love the childish glee of the "ha, ha, ha" moment at the end. This is part of the poem that conjures a basic pathos of the temporary glee resulting from hurling an insult.
I'm sure that the those of you who are poets and literature professors might have something more substantial to add. And others, like the Bitch Doctor, may argue that Larry Summers or someone else deserves a fair chance at #1 idiot.
So, who should be nominated for the category of #1 idiot?
14 February 2005
conversations with my dogs
Me: Stop eating your poop! That's disgusting!
dog eating poop: munch munch, pause, look at me, look at poop, take one more bite, walk away.
Me: stop barking like an idiot!
dog barking like an idiot: pause, grumble, grumble, growl, BARK . . .
Me . . .Sto-ahahahahp it, stopitstopitstopit!!
dog: looking at me like I am the one barking like an idiot, lies down on ground, sighs, looks at me, BARK BARK BARK!
Me (as dog is flailing around on leash): would you cut it out? please. you're embarassing me. Stop fucking around.
Me (remembering this dog is deaf): giving the sign for "stop fucking around" over and over.
dog (doing some sort of lunatic dog yoga): acting crazy, brief pause, quick stop, into crazy eyes, back and forth, into grab the leash with your mouth and shake with the might of entire body, stop, sit down, lick butt. Repeat.
Me (at 4am): what do you want? don't you dare try to tell me you are hungry. I mean it--go back to sleep!
Me (again remember this dog is deaf): arrrgh! wah wah wah! stop licking me. Ouch! you just scratch off half my face!
Me (after 20-30 minutes of this): OK, fine, let's go get your breakfast.
Me (5 minutes later): I can't believe you are sleeping like a baby--but could you please get off me?
Me: stop smelling me.
dog: sniff sniff, pause, head cocked to one side, sniff.
Me: I love you guys. ya bunch of weirdos.
Edited to be in memory of Lowkey, Dr. Gym-Partner's Great Pyreneese, who died today. We'll miss you, big guy
dog eating poop: munch munch, pause, look at me, look at poop, take one more bite, walk away.
Me: stop barking like an idiot!
dog barking like an idiot: pause, grumble, grumble, growl, BARK . . .
Me . . .Sto-ahahahahp it, stopitstopitstopit!!
dog: looking at me like I am the one barking like an idiot, lies down on ground, sighs, looks at me, BARK BARK BARK!
Me (as dog is flailing around on leash): would you cut it out? please. you're embarassing me. Stop fucking around.
Me (remembering this dog is deaf): giving the sign for "stop fucking around" over and over.
dog (doing some sort of lunatic dog yoga): acting crazy, brief pause, quick stop, into crazy eyes, back and forth, into grab the leash with your mouth and shake with the might of entire body, stop, sit down, lick butt. Repeat.
Me (at 4am): what do you want? don't you dare try to tell me you are hungry. I mean it--go back to sleep!
Me (again remember this dog is deaf): arrrgh! wah wah wah! stop licking me. Ouch! you just scratch off half my face!
Me (after 20-30 minutes of this): OK, fine, let's go get your breakfast.
Me (5 minutes later): I can't believe you are sleeping like a baby--but could you please get off me?
Me: stop smelling me.
dog: sniff sniff, pause, head cocked to one side, sniff.
Me: I love you guys. ya bunch of weirdos.
Edited to be in memory of Lowkey, Dr. Gym-Partner's Great Pyreneese, who died today. We'll miss you, big guy
09 February 2005
academic neuroses files (part four)
Ailment: Lookatmeitis
Manifestation: all forms of communication
Case Study: Subject starts a blog and then is very surprised to realize after only a couple weeks that he is worried if anyone is reading. Should there be more comments? Should subject be doing something to network and build relationships? Are people linking and blogrolling? Do they see how clever he (thinks he) is? Subject is not sure how to understand new information about self: he is needy for attention, or validation, or some kind of positive contact related (even if in pseudonymity) to others of his ilk. Nice blogger seems to take some interest, seeming to understanding subject's innate insecurities. He starts blogrolling others, gets a sitemeter, starts commenting to others, and is overwhelmed that he is starting to make some new writerly/readerly relationships with said ilk. Though he has trouble keeping up with and reading as many blogs as he wants to every day, he checks out a post by New Kid about the different kinds of academic blogs/bloggers, referencing a blogger whom subject has not yet stumbled upon. Subject follows a link to Arete, who (how fortuitous!) has recently written a post that is a guide for new bloggers, which follows a hilariously juvenile-mundane photo of found (anti-) art. Guidebook addresses blogging form of lookatmeitis and wisely reframes the ailment as a failure of practical communication. Subject is even more happy to see that sagacious veteran blogger is doctoral student in field very similar to subject's own. Subject appears to be less down of academy at present time.
Edited to apologize that I don't think I know how to do the trackback thing correctly, as evidenced by the link to "guide for new bloggers," which went nowhere when I checked it.
Manifestation: all forms of communication
Case Study: Subject starts a blog and then is very surprised to realize after only a couple weeks that he is worried if anyone is reading. Should there be more comments? Should subject be doing something to network and build relationships? Are people linking and blogrolling? Do they see how clever he (thinks he) is? Subject is not sure how to understand new information about self: he is needy for attention, or validation, or some kind of positive contact related (even if in pseudonymity) to others of his ilk. Nice blogger seems to take some interest, seeming to understanding subject's innate insecurities. He starts blogrolling others, gets a sitemeter, starts commenting to others, and is overwhelmed that he is starting to make some new writerly/readerly relationships with said ilk. Though he has trouble keeping up with and reading as many blogs as he wants to every day, he checks out a post by New Kid about the different kinds of academic blogs/bloggers, referencing a blogger whom subject has not yet stumbled upon. Subject follows a link to Arete, who (how fortuitous!) has recently written a post that is a guide for new bloggers, which follows a hilariously juvenile-mundane photo of found (anti-) art. Guidebook addresses blogging form of lookatmeitis and wisely reframes the ailment as a failure of practical communication. Subject is even more happy to see that sagacious veteran blogger is doctoral student in field very similar to subject's own. Subject appears to be less down of academy at present time.
Edited to apologize that I don't think I know how to do the trackback thing correctly, as evidenced by the link to "guide for new bloggers," which went nowhere when I checked it.
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