Facebook 1, Blog 0

Yikes - over a month without a post.

Is it because I'm too busy?
Is it because I'm working three jobs?
Is it because blogging is SO 2005?

Yeah, probably. But I'm going to blame it on Facebook.

I didn't understand Facebook at first. I've had a page for some time, but I never checked it unless I got an email telling me that someone had sent me a message on it. Even then I was irritated by it - I just didn't understand how people could spend any time on it. It always took me about 5 minutes to become bored by it, so I'd read my messages, remind the people who sent them that I could be reached on Gmail, and leave.

What irritated me about it was the way it turned the internet into a popularity contest on several levels. First, you have the question of friend count. Who has more than you, and why? Why is that person friends with her and not with you? Should I mine her friend list to increase my own? All pitiful things to ask yourself. Shouldn't your friends be more a matter of quality than quantity?

Then you have the daily contest of status updates. Should I be honest about what is actually on my mind, or is today a day for song lyrics, movie quotes, or your "Which Twilight Character are You?" quiz results? Score is kept in "likes" and comments, but it's not a simple process of addition. You must also figure in the content of the comments, subtracting half for those who both like and comment, and then you must consider the "likes" OF the comments - do you get those points, or do you share them with the commenter? I'm not sure - I believe the scoring system is actually based on a combination of the rules for the BCS rankings and Quidditch...

There are other arenas for Facebook combat as well. Pictures, for example - you can post, caption, tag, like, comment, untag, and generally bore everyone with the photos that aren't good enough to use as wallpaper on your phone. These fall into three broad categories; 1) profile pics so heavily 'shopped that your mom wouldn't recognize you, 2) horrible pics of you tagged by someone else, and 3) a category simply titled, "dude, we were so faded that night..." Incidentally, none of those albums are going to be particularly flattering to you twenty years from now when you run for office.

Despite how ridiculous I find this all to be, Facebook now occupies far too much of my time. For all its narcissism and shallow quantifications of net friend worth, it actually does what it claims to do - help people stay connected.

Do I think it might do that at the expense of face-to-face communication? Yes.
Do I worry that it is killing internet exchanges in longer formats? Absolutely.
Do I believe that it's creating an even more dysfunctional and self-aggrandizing generation than my own? Almost certainly, and that's saying something because let's face it, we Gen X babies are pretty much the poster children of me-theism. Never the less, it expands the neurological boundaries of our ability to establish network ties, allowing us to build "friendships" in numbers unknown to humans at any previous time in our existence. The ties are weak, certainly, but it is the sheer quantity that is remarkable - it has enabled humans to maintain sociality at a level beyond our cranial capacity. For that alone, it may be one of the most important things to arise on the internet so far.

So that's my excuse. I haven't blogged for over a month because I have become far too enthralled with Facebook. Sorry, but it's true. I'm sure that's not a shock to any of you - you probably got here via a Facebook link anyway...

Wandering the Wastes

I didn't get to bed on time. There was a thesis meeting, then work until 9:00pm, then an election party, then... Fallout: New Vegas.

I am not thrilled with this game - not yet, anyway. I keep playing it because I am hoping to recapture all the fun I had in Fallout 3 as the "Last, Best Hope of Humanity" and savior of the D.C. Wastes, Tyranthraxus Malabraxacor Jones (I have a naming issue - let it go). But this game is decidely NOT Fallout 3.

It looks like Fallout 3, but some of the mechanical changes they've made in this game make no sense. For example - the changes to the chems in the game are pretty silly. I used to love the moments just before entering a lair full or baddies - shooting up a cocktail of Med-x and Psycho, then popping Mentats, huffing some Ultrajet, taking a hit of Buffout, and washing it all down with vodka and a Nuka Cola. There is nothing quite like assaulting a lair full of slavers armed only with a shotgun, a supersledge, and a pharmacy in your veins...

Ok, I get that the chems were too powerful before, and reducing their duration while increasing their addictiveness is a way to address that, but it feels like they've taken it too far. Last night, my little weenie of a character, Skinhead McTavish, had only barely achieved 4th level and he was already addicted to scotch, Med-X, Psycho, Mentats, and Steady - and he was most decidely NOT the raging methhead of death I was hoping he'd be. In fact, he was pitiful. He was, at one point, killed by a pack of coyotes. COYOTES, for fuck's sake. The mighty Mr. Jones would be appalled.

I am also underwhelmed with the changes they've made to the healing substances in the game. I want my hit points back NOW, damn it, not slowly over the next 20 minutes. That is decidedly shitty, especially when some Powder Ganger is lobbing dynamite at your crippled ass.

As irritating as these changes may be, they are a small thing compared to the utter bullshit that is the "skill magazine." For those who don't know, when you read a magazine in the game it increases your score in certain game skills. For example, when you read an issue of Locksmith's Reader, the game reflects your new knowledge by increasing your lockpick skill by 10 points. This make perfect sense until you realize that it wears off, just like a chem. Now, I don't mean you forget it after a month or two - you forget it in about 5 minutes. How exactly does that work?

This is just a poorly concealed attempt to insert the tired-ass fantasy gaming concept of magical scrolls into the post-apocalyptic world of Fallout. It effectively turns magazines into spells that improve your skills long enough to get you past a tough door or to unlock an important safe, and then expire. While I understand the desire of the game designers to offer the players found items ("treasure" if you will) that are helpful enough to be interesting, but not so helpful that they imbalance the game, I can't understand why they went this route with it. You could easily come up with a way of increasing skill scores that is wrapped in techno-babble more appropriate to the setting. Perhaps instead of a magazine, the character finds an electronic lockpicking device, and it only has a few uses left on its battery... or they discover a bottle of lubricant that makes lock innards move more easily, but there is only enough for one application in the bottle. Given how easy it is to come up with clever, skill-specific ways to temporarily increase a players game skills, this generic "there is a magazine for everything" approach seems kind of phoned in.

In fact, the claim that Fallout is just "Oblivion with guns" seems truer to me all the time. Except that I hated Oblivion, and couldn't care about it long enough to accomplish anything in it. My total time investment in it was about 45 minutes, and it only lasted that long because Patrick Stewart was talking to me...

That said, I will, no doubt, continue to play New Vegas. I am, at heart, a Pipboy...

Not Just a Job

One of my jobs these days is tutoring student athletes. I took it for a number of reasons; I need the money, it looks good on resume/CV, it has flexible hours - but mostly it was for the money; the Pontifex Niger got to get paid. I am as poor as a church mouse these days, and not one of those non-denominational megachurches, either. Tutoring pays the least of my three jobs, but to my surprise, it's the best job I've had in a long time.

The students are all struggling to balance school with major sports commitments. They lift weights, they practice, they go to therapy for injuries, they watch game films, they attend meetings - and THEN they go do their homework. On the weekends they have games, so they often travel extensively. They are almost universally exhausted, and frequently they are not the most serious or attentive students.

Despite that, I really look forward to working with them. I have always enjoyed teaching, but this is a unique challenge. Usually, they come to see me because they are struggling in a subject. Most often it's Sociology, but I'm also helping some with Women's Studies, English Comp., and general academic writing. Their scholarships sometimes hang in the balance, so it's very rewarding for both of us when their grades begin to improve. Once they have a little taste of success, they start coming to tutoring sessions with more eagerness. They begin to see that they can master the material, and they start to see themselves differently. Many believe that they're "just an athlete," but once they begin to see Bs and As on their work they start to believe they can graduate. That kind of energy is infectious - even after putting in 12 hour days with them, I come home in a good mood.

The job is not without its frustrations, though. I am struck by how poorly some of them were prepared by their high schools - and not just high schools in the U.S. We like to bitch about the failings of the American education system, but I've seen international students who were no better off. It's easy to see that the battle between sports and academics began for most of them many years before they arrived at Black Vatican U. They need help now because someone years ago made the decision to let them slide, to pass them and let them just be jocks. It angers me, but I try to turn that anger into the energy to help them be better students.

This is just the latest in a long line of revelations that have pushed me to make some new choices. My exposure to the work of Jonathan Kozol, meeting Bill Ayers and hearing him speak, knowing Education majors like Mandy, G-Fresh, and SciFi Heroine, meeting all the candidates for State Superintendent during campaign events this year, and now this job - it's all pushing me toward Education as a career. Yes, I still want a PhD, but I think I have more to add to the field of Education than I ever would contribute to Sociology.

I have an appointment with a counselor in the College of Education next Wednesday. I'm looking into the Post-Baccalaureate Teacher Certification Program, to see how long it will take - I am still planning on leaving this town before next fall. If it can be done in that timeframe, I'm off to Financial Aid to see if I can afford it.

My Place

Soon my time at Black Vatican U must come to an end. I know - I've said that before, but this time, I mean it. Once this thesis is defended and I've taught a class or two, I will have mined this place for all it has to offer me, aside from future letters of recommendation. As I plan for this departure, I am troubled. I don't know where to go.

You see, I have plenty of experience in living where I am not wanted. Not me personally, but me as a liberal, a Democrat, a non-Christian, a queer ally, and one of those damned elitist academic types. After almost a decade of being a politcal and cultural outsider, I'd like to find a place to live where my views are closer to the median.

I want to teach, either at the secondary or post-secondary level, without having to constantly pander to fundies and fanatics. I want my taxes to primarily fund social programs that build local communities, and not the defense budget. I want to live in a place that respects and supports the arts, multiculturalism, and the practice of the world's religions. This place should have ethnic diversity, and it should be celebrated. I have no idea where this place is.

In fact, I've been thinking for years now that this place is no longer in the U.S. Throughout my adult life I've been consistently stepping to the Left, while much of America has been stumbling to the Right. Even as we elected a black Democrat to be POTUS I knew it was too little, too late. As the GOP and the Teabaggers shriek about Socialism and Fascism, I find that he's nowhere near as far Left as I'd like. I want him to socialize medicine, empower labor, regulate the hell out of banking, and put the nuts of the corporations in a vice. I'm not just marching to a different drummer here - I'm in a completely different parade.

When I try to match an actual country to my fantasies about this place, I always end up looking at places like Sweden or Holland. Do I really have to learn a new language and move overseas just to live among my kind?

Black and Bloody

The Pontifex Niger is not a crafty guy. He doesn't knit or crochet, nor does he needlepoint. In fact, he hasn't made a gift for anyone since he was 5, when the Montessori Nazi, Mrs. Detweiler, made him trace around his hand and then color it like a turkey. (My mom dragged it out for Thanksgiving every year until I was 14...)

This failing - my craftlessness - was a problem, as "craftsman" was on my list of skills that a well rounded Pontiff should have. In my ongoing quest to better serve the Flock, I had to learn how to make something with my bare hands (just to clarify - my years in the SCA taught me how to make armor and impact weapons out of plastic, leather, metal, and tons of duct tape, but it's hard to turn those into gifts unless you're celebrating "zombie apocalypse day"). Ideally, said gifts would be made of materials that were cheap, easy to acquire, utilitarian, and manly. I turned to my old friend Google, and there I rediscovered the miracle that is parachute cord.

Also known as para cord or 550 cord, it is an amazingly useful material. It's really handy in survival situations - it can replace a shoelace, lash up a rainfly, make a snare for food, or tie a splint on a broken bone. It is easy to work with, requiring nothing more than a knife and a lighter for most projects. It is also stupidly strong, it comes in a ton of colors, and there are plenty of pages on the net giving step by step instructions for projects. I began by acquiring a quantity of it in the colors of the Sable Primate - black and bloody.

Rather than make something for a human, who might not like it, and who would then feel obligated to act like they liked it, I decided to make something for the dog. The Papal Puppy can't talk (yet) so it is only the suspicious cast of her eyes that tells us how much she loved my first project - a dog collar. Despite being very strong and durable, para cord is quite soft and comfy. This is little Friday's favorite collar for a long day of rushing to the end of her leash and gagging herself.

Naturally, this collar needed a leash, and I decided to go all out with a two color round braid. It's a bit too long (about 9 feet), made of two continuous strands of para cord, with a self handle made by back braiding the ends. The round braid gives it a nice bit of elasticity, but it is still strong enough for just about any dog. I may be making a few of these as gifts for the dog people I know at the hollowdaze this year. This one has already gotten many compliments at puppy kindergarten.

Given the success of the doggy goods, it was time for a people project. I began a bracelet for SciFi Heroine, but another excellent opportunity presented itself. In exchange for (an incredibly large box of) fabulous homemade soap, I offered to make bracelets for Mayren and her husband. The bracelets pictured here were the result - it is fitting that the Number 1 fangirl of the Ministry should have the first two official Black Vatican Survival Bracelets. I used hemostats to get the weave really tight and even, and I think they turned out quite nicely.

Flush with my success, I returned to the bracelet for SciFi Heroine. I let her pick the colors (hence the deviation from black and bloody), and I tried a different pattern - a double weave that yields a wider, thicker bracelet. The result was much better than I expected, I must confess. Apparently, she likes it too, because I had to pry it off her wrist to get a pic of it - she's been wearing it constantly since I finished it. I am planning one for myself as my next project.

If Mrs. Detweiler could only see me now...

Friday Update

(See what I did with the title? It's about the puppy, and it's posted on a Friday... that's what makes it funny... ahem.)

Miss Friday is now officially the most successful competitor living in Flock Hall (Cabbage Shane is 2-0 in the MMA cage, but Friday is 3-0 in, um, terrier stuff). The blue ribbons at right were collected a few weekends ago at the 10th Cowboy Classic Terrier Trials in Douglas, WY. She won her division - bitches 4 to 6 months - in racing, hurdles, and conformation. I grant that the field was very small, but hey, a blue ribbon is a blue ribbon. She will be attending another rally in October, down in Colorado. In the meantime she's looking at some shoe deals, and the Milkbone people are in negotiations with her agent about putting her on the box...

In other news, a wave of nostalgia is sweeping Flock Hall - at least where the furniture is concerned. Some of you may remember the "Ghetto Fabulous Wall Unit" from Flock Hall 1.0 (shown here behind the papal guitars). A new wall-mounted television and a rearranged "situation room" spurred the desire to resurrect this grad school haute furnishing. After a quick meeting of the Black Vatican finance committee (involving a ceramic pig and a hammer) the materials were acquired and piled in a corner.

Professional technicians were flown in from Pisa for the precision stacking required to create this piece of PoMo/Decon anti-shelving. Here we see one of the stackologists making tiny adjustments to the footings. This piece is smaller than the original, which was 12 feet long and 6 feet high, but it still stands well over 5 feet high and 8 feet wide. It completely covers the north wall of the situation room, and provides secure locations for the cable box, router, modem, and PS3. There is also room for a Wii and 360 (hint hint, Crimbo is coming!).

Here we see the finished unit, complete with wall-mounted flat screen. Yes, it was expensive, but that's just how we roll here at Flock Hall. Ok, actually, that just how one of the inmates, Shane called Boy (not to be confused with Cabbage Shane), rolls. He takes his gaming seriously, and a big TV with HD capability was a must for him to fully enjoy his PS3 experience. He is quiet and seriously adicted to the new Starcraft, so he spends a lot of his time in his room with his PC. He also returns from work almost every night with either pizza or hot wings. Flock Hall needs more inmates like him...

Boy has has also recently added a really comfy recliner to the situation room, which is giving it a nice "man cave" feeling. I'm sitting in it as I compose this missive, and I feel like John Colicos commanding the Cylons. Or John Colicos commanding the IKS Klothos. Either way, it involves sitting in a big chair with your legs spread so wide everyone knows you're in charge... Yes, HSBP commands you to seek out the ragtag fugitive fleet... and bring me the blonde socialator, Cassiopeia, the dumb one...

Why Johnny can't vote...

Democracy only works if the people vote for their best interests. I know, this sounds like a no-brainer, but people frequently vote contrary to their own interests in support of a given ideology. For example - Teabaggers, who are mostly 40+ are voting for candidates who wish to abolish Social Security. I acknowledge that a candidate's platform is complicated and you shouldn't decide based on one issue, but it's hard to imagine a combination of positions that could outweigh not getting back all the money you've paid into Social Security over the course of your working life. There are other examples - Log Cabin Republicans spring to mind...

There are several ways to explain this phenomena. The optimistic explanation relies on an educated, informed populace. We assume that these voters have studied the platforms of the candidates, carefully weighed each, then chosen the one who most closely represents their interests. If this is the case, then democracy is functioning (assuming the candidates are being honest about their positions - but that's a topic for another day...).

Another explanation relies on an uninformed populace - or at the very least, a populace that is only informed selectively on certain topics. These voters are swayed by the 4th Estate and convinced to vote outside their best interests, usually by way of fear. This fear can take any form, and as we've seen of late, it doesn't even need to be a real threat - anchor/terror babies, Socialism/Communism/Fascism, non-citizen president, death panels, etc.

Even this would be tolerable if the goal of the press was an even-handed coverage of the events. They tell would-be journalists in college that their mission is exactly that. They are led to believe that their task is accurate reporting without bias. Unfortunately, the goal of the press is much simpler than that - profit. Since it is easier, as Alexis De Tocqueville pointed out, for the world to accept a simple lie than a complex truth, it is easier for the press to make money when it simplifies and sensationalizes. There is very little incentive to present the events in-depth, nor to present them with all of their complexities intact.

This is why so many people vote in baffling ways, and why our democracy doesn't bring the will of the people to fruition. I've come to the conclusion that the only solution to this issue is education, and it's not a cure - just a treatment. Even if we educate the citizenry to a very high level of critical thinking competency, they can only work with the data to which they have access.

So - there's your depressing ramble for the day. I welcome more positive views from the cyberFlock.