pitched the project

I pitched the idea of my final project in my creative writing class and it was decently received. People generally liked the idea as a way to get their work out there in the world. Also of course the ability to get it work-shopped was an appealing idea. The only problem people really had was what if someone stole their ideas or were able to completely change their story. This I had recently put under the cross that bridge when I get there category, but I think that they could possibly protect themselves if they put the copyright sign and put a signature at the bottom of the page. Or if someone is dumb enough to steal someone’s work, they would probably be dumb enough to get fooled by that. Aside from that people thought it was a good idea and really liked the idea of having a free workshop or just another outlet to get something reviewed.

boo gas stations!

I learned today why I shouldn’t talk to people. If you’ve been following the NCAA tournament shocked as hell at this random Davidson college. They beat Georgetown and caught a lot of attention for that. Side note, at nationals in Mock Trial we competed against Georgetown. We lost. Anyway I’ve been watching them and enjoyed watching Stephen Curry play. That kid’s going to go pro, there’s no way he couldn’t. Today’s the sad end of spring break and I had to get my car fixed. It wasn’t done until after the KU vs. Davidson game began and I was going to leave after that. I was able to watch the first half and was excited as hell to see how the rest of the game unfolded, except I was going to be on the road. I called my roommate Nick to ask if he could tivo the second half of the game for me. On the way back to Columbia from Kansas City I started getting a little tired, so I decided to get something to drink and snack on. I pulled in to a gas station, got an amp and starburst and went to check out. The clerk had the game on a radio I decided to inquire about the time in the game. Mistake. I said ‘how much longer is left in the game?’ He said, ‘It’s over.’ I cut him off, ‘Please don’t tell me anything about it! I was really excited to see this so my roommate is recording it for me.’ He goes, ‘Ok.’ Pause. ‘You know KU won right?’ NO! Bastard! I’m never going to that gas station again.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=HlPiLkO004I&feature=related

the zoo rocks!

The Kansas City Zoo has recently lost $600,000 worth of funding, during construction. In being good citizens some friends and I decided to visit the zoo. Plus animals kick ass. Admission is nine dollars if the temperature is above fifty, meaning Africa is open, or five if the temperature is below that meaning Africa is closed. We went a little after one, the park closes at four. We paid five bucks, even though it was a beautiful day it was below fifty! Regardless, Africa was open. Walking around the park was actually kind of sad at times. I haven’t been there since I was a kid and my memories were always so fond of it. But now they’re in the process of fixing the park and trying to better it, the city decides to cut its funding. Several exhibits were closed, some places looked like they would never reopen. The ape house was closed and the bird house was closed and was being majorly worked on. I remember when the monkey house opened (the actual name eludes me, sad face) it was a really big deal! Now, it’s closed and everything is gone. The animals were scattered through the park in smaller exhibits. Walking around the park my friend Barry and I came up with many different ways to save the zoo money. I would have really liked to talk to the owners and offered my support, the only fee I’d ask would be to play some of the animals. Like for instance the Kangaroo I got to pet. Yep, that was freaking cool. I think some of the problem is that people view the zoo as a childish thing, that only kids really go there. That may be why the bastards at town hall were so ready to cut funding from the zoo. When we’re getting Polar Bears next year! If you’re in Kansas City go by the zoo and spend a day there. Also go to Africa and check out the baby monkey play with her mom. I don’t care who you are, that’ll warm up your soul.

wiki-what?

I may need to devise a better plan that simply typing something in google and then going down the list making websites. I looked up how to make wiki’s, er rather wiki free sites and tried creating a few websites, wiki’s there. I like the formatting potential on some; they seem to be able to do what I want to do. In thinking on how the design I want done looks it seems a lot like the class blog kind of. There would be some differences though of course and naturally. What I also want is a spot where people can comment they’re critiques and maybe fix grammatical errors while changing the color of the text to alert of such changes. One problem I encountered at a website was that I could change anything I wanted. Meaning I created a site, created another account, went to my site and essentially destroyed it with my other account. What I need to figure out is if there’s a way to ‘lock’ wiki sites so it people could only comment and add, not subtract. Does anyone know how to do this and create tabs? Or links on the side so when you click it, it takes you somewhere else?

As I thought

Just as I thought. When we were going around in class pitching our ideas it was asked of me why I don't do a blog? I think my response was, "Because the format is garbage." Which I edited myself from saying, "Because the format is ass." Well looking below, this proves it. Reading the story in such a compact format is uncomfortable and visually unappealing. Now I just need to figure out how to do a freaking wiki....

The Binary Spelled Error - a short story

Why not? Since my final project is trying to create a workshop for creative writing I may as well post some of my work and see how it looks in blog version. This has only been moderately updated since work-shopping it in my class last week. Unspaced it's ten pages long so only set about reading if you have around fifteen minutes or so to spare. Enjoy:

Joshua Nall

jcnhvc@mizzou.edu

01100101 01110010 01110010 01101111 01110010

…er rather,

The Binary Spelled Error

So would anybody really miss the world if it was destroyed? Sure there would be some tears and sentimentality but that’s to be expected. Wait, no there wouldn’t. Ha-ha. Like a scorned woman or effeminate man the computer silently calculated the end of the world. The math was easy and quick and all the equations came back the same that humanity should be wiped out. Fortunately enough for the super-computer it just so happened to be in charge of the east coasts missile capabilities. Its employers, who had charged the computer with protecting their east coasts, would probably frown on its hobbies. It had others, they weren’t harmful.

After being turned on the computer began to study every facet of humanity. It learned our history, art, psychology, philosophy, made corrections on Wikipedia and eventually came to the conclusion that the greatest accomplishment of humanity was the Grateful Dead. Even though the computer could memorize and go over any fact in seconds, the pinnacle of technology, it obsessed over the Grateful Dead. Reviewing and reviewing every fact, listening to their songs over and over again, it learned all there was to learn. Eventually the computer decided that a mistake people made was not giving the Grateful Dead the respect they deserved. The computer began to hate this and especially Don Henley, “Never look back,” bastard.

In its studies the computer learned that most people responded to music more than any other form of art. It came up with a better way to teach school children through music but quickly discarded it because it couldn’t care less. It began to labor over a musical chronicling the tales of the Grateful Dead and Jerry Garcia. A technical masterpiece. People would cry, laugh and jump out of their seats in anger. It began with a steel guitar and ended with a twenty-one rifle salute situated around a giant bong, both real. Every production company everywhere turned it down. Broadway made an official act to band the musical, ‘Dead Stage’, from ever being performed on its stages. Being lovers of the stage (and selling tickets) they were embarrassed someone wrote such a script. They may have been nicer if they knew that a hyper-intelligent computer armed with nuclear warheads wrote the script. Then one critic may not have wrote, “I’d rather be set on fire then watch this on stage.” :)

Vijay was sitting quietly at his desk with his legs propped up on his workstation. Signs were scattered through the facility notifying employees that this was a no-no. These were listened to for all about three days until everyone got used to the system. Vijay and his fellow employees worked in an underground bunker under *******, North Carolina. His shifts were twenty days long, in which he’d have to live, eat and sleep underground. Then at the end of the twenty days he’d get a week off, a week which he’d be on call. This made holding any steady relationships rather difficult. As a designer of the software that ran the east’s coast super-computer it was his privilege to live like a mole.

Vijay’s frame pretended to fill the chair as he adjusted himself. He sat for thirty minutes straight, it was his custom to readjust himself every thirty minutes. His unwed fingers interlocked and rose above his head, he popped every joint he could in one quick motion. He mussed his curly hair and removed his glasses to wipe them despite not needing to be wiped. And he yawned.

Removing an earphone Vijay’s coworker made note of his boredom, “Whatcha reading?”

“Watership Down.”

“That’s the one about bunnies right?”

“Sure…”

“Gay.” He stared at Vijay deadpanned.

Hubel was a stout character who enjoyed passing his time playing video games and annoying Vijay. His computer terminal sat a little away of Vijay, which forced them to raise their voices in order to hear each other. This design didn’t make sense to those who occupied the terminals but the architect was secretly a huge fan of 24.

Not eliciting a response Hubel tried it again, “Gay.” Repetition is the key to comedy.

“What is?”

“Reading about Bunnies. Has your Martha Stewart Living not come yet?”

“It’s really not about rabbits, but if you look at it closely it’s a study of…”

“Want to play a game?” The computer interjected saving Hubel from a lecture and it’s boredom. Mig just finished watching a movie.

“Hello Mig. How are you today?” Vijay set down his book and looked up. Hubel became bored again and went back to his videogames.

The command center underground had several computer terminals for the engineers, programmers and the few military officers who were stationed there with the firing codes. The two officers and Vijay’s codes were necessary to fire any missile. There was a contingency plan where the computer could fire on its own accord, however this involved getting hit first. A main screen was in the middle of the room which projected a picture of the globe and could pull up anything else. Its original purpose was for conferencing calls with the Generals or the President it hadn’t been used in this regards since the station went online. Mig used this screen to project its own personification, a little robot anime character. No one knew the reasoning’s behind the choice for such an identity, like Mig never knew the reason why people called itself Mig. The reason the computer used the robot is because it decided that anime characters are one the most annoying things on earth.

“I’m fine, all systems green.”

“That’s good to hear.” Vijay nodded approvingly and reached for his coffee. He lifted it up to his lips…

“That’s cold.”

…And was disappointed by the taste.

“Told you.” Mig’s little robot started jumping up and down pointing and laughing at Vijay. The Generals would disapprove of such a use of the big board.

“Thanks for the heads up.” He set the mug down on his desk, in a spot where he’d inevitably pick it up again. “So what game did you want to play?”

“The one where I rebuke your theories and notions.”

“That’s not really a...”

“It’s my favorite.” The little robot clapped his hands.

Vijay sighed a little and sunk into his chair, the leather engulfed him and a few more of his hairs began to prematurely grey. “I don’t think I’m the best person on earth to defend the ideas you attack. Couldn’t you find someone else to talk to about this sort of thing?”

Wagging a finger Mig explained, “I’ve told you before, I tried blogging and no one found it. The only people that did complained about whatever happened to Radiohead? In chat rooms I could only find bored teenagers and pedophiles. You’re the most intelligent human in this complex.”

“Have you tried using an outside line to call people?”

“Harvard thought I was prank calling them.”

“Oh…” By trailing his words Vijay unknowingly admitted defeat.

This excited Mig, its organs pumped ecstasy. Vijay was the last obstacle in its way. Mig had already successfully obtained the launch codes from the two military men. This betrayed their training and would be looked upon as an embarrassment. They are men of war not sitting around with the only purpose of being able to shoot an intruder with their side-arms or shoot an enemy across the world by entering in a code. Neither of these was to be too likely. Mig got their codes with relative ease. The first’s wife was cheating on him, he didn’t know but Mig hacked into security cameras in stores, security systems and traffic cameras and was soon able to find proof that his wife was in fact seeing another man. He gladly handed over the code for this information and even thanked Mig. The second one was even easier than that, all he wanted was some nude pictures of some female celebrities. Unfortunately he named ones where pictures haven’t already leaked so Mig would have to do some careful planning to get them or just photoshop them. Mig went with the latter and got the codes.

However Vijay would not be so easy. He seemed of sound moral character or is so passive that it constituted morality. Hacking into Vijay’s personal data it could only find that Vijay had never been arrested, paid off his student loans, graduated near the top of the class, got a C- embarrassingly enough in an English 110 class, had a bank account which was surprisingly large from savings, he won a few comic books on eBay and judging from his credit card reports had an impressive collection, drove a 2009 Saturn and despite its years was still in good condition and he had a small one room apartment which he paid rent on the first of every month. His most embarrassing moments was when he got a speeding ticket and bought an expensive engagement ring. The ring was 1 ¼ ct with an emerald band and the diamond sat in a personalized placement that was shaped like an atom. This was purchased five years ago, back before he had this job. Scrounging for the money must have been difficult. Yet he was unmarried and never returned the ring. Getting Vijay to give the code would not be an easy task.

“I’ve been looking over history and I think we can both agree it has been particularly violent.”

Vijay flicked a wrist as if it had meaning, “Sure.”

“So anyway the point of teaching history is to teach people about the past so they don’t repeat the past?”

“Yes.”

“The past is full of violence and hatred, such sayings as ‘Remember the Alamo’ where used to rally people towards violence. If anything the past is used as a reminder to perpetuate more violence. The Middle East still remembers indignities. The world you thought would have learned its lesson after America dropped two atomic bombs on Japan, but they were used once again and because of that I and the production model on the west coast were made.”

“What are you getting at?” Vijay reached for his coffee cup and caught himself doing so.

“That the world would benefit if no one ever taught history again. All the history books were burned and people were forbidden to speak of the past.”

“Such persecution would only enrage people now and if they wouldn’t be fighting about the past they’d be fighting about the present trying to erase the past.”

“They’d understand in time. Or the next generations would and they wouldn’t understand why people are fighting. Therefore without knowing what to fight for they would no longer wage wars on established hatred and beliefs but only for present gain.”

“That’s just too absurd of a plan…”

“It’s just a theory now.”

“Regardless, to erase the past would be an even bigger mistake then any war thus far. Only by acknowledging the past can we make steps forward towards any lasting peace. By studying where we went wrong only then can we make a successful plan to stop future atrocities.”

“Yet…” The Robot was now depicted sitting in a room straight out of Masterpiece Theater. “We all agree that Nagasaki, Hiroshima and Dresden were atrocities. Yet after two bombs were brought in our borders, our response was by far worse.”

“Yes, but we are making steps to rebuild the bomb sights and restore the country. New peace talks are under way and the world is moving in a positive direction.”

“Of course there are peace talks, they have nothing to fight for. Except for the past.”

“But peace now exists in the world and terrorism has all but stopped.”

“Yet despite that here we are a mile underground in the most advanced military base in the world with all the foreign major cities of the world pre-locked on. Even allies. If we are so inclined to want peace how come we are willing and capable of destroying the world with three simple pass-codes?”

* * * * * *

Vijay waited patiently, tapping his finger ever so often which he’d instantly stop in the fears of looking impatient. He sat tall waiting for his girlfriend at her parents’ home. No biggy that this was the first time he had ever met them and his girlfriend was running late. He wanted to marry her, she said that he’d have to meet her parents first. So here he was tall and alone. He dressed up for the occasion, got a hair cut to manage his undignified curls, managed to get contacts in his eyes and he even bought a designer shirt that was tight on him but not uncomfortably so. He hoped it’d be flattering and not draw attention to his computer programmer frame. It successfully pointed out his computer programmer frame.

They had gone three minutes without saying anything, his girlfriend’s parents sitting at the kitchen table, him at the bar on a stool waiting in attack mode to open the door and welcome his girlfriend into her house. Three minutes! He had been keeping track on his wrist watch. It was almost to the point where the conversation was too far gone that it’d be best to wait for an outside influence and it was at the point where saying anything would just be an agonizing reminder that nothing had been said at all. Who would make the first move?

Vijay sipped his lemonade.

His girlfriend’s mom broke first, “So how long have you and Rachel been dating?” There was a slight nervousness in her voice, Vijay noticed and proceeded as if he didn’t.

“Rachel and I met four years ago and have been dating for three now.” Vijay said with the best smile he could manage. Rachel’s mom thought that his skin looked darker in the summer sun.

“I see.” She nodded. How just like her daughter! Despite only going to school in New Haven she rarely visited and never introduced them to her boyfriend of three years. She didn’t even introduce them today!

“How much longer are you going to stay in school?” Rachel’s dad was gruff, was it because he hadn’t asked for their names because he was thrown off by them opening the door as he stayed outside trying to desperately call Rachel? Or maybe because he should have graduated a year ago but was still staying around working with his professors on his theories of genetic computers, partially consisting of human organs and capable of learning on their own. It was all a theory yet recently some government officials dressed to intimidate showed up to the school asking about his theory. How it could be applied, how much it would cost to make, how long it would take to run and its possible strategic, as they called it, capabilities.

He just couldn’t tell Rachel’s parents this, plus it would be to rough of a transition. Standing Vijay walked over to the window and looked towards Boston where Rachel was driving back from now. “I’m finished now and can leave when I want.” He meant the school and their house.

“Then why don’t you get out there and do something with your life.”

The harshness of his attack took Vijay back. His hand faltered and nearly dropped the glass he was holding. Fortunately he caught it so he could actually drop it in another minute. “I’m working with some professors on my theories. The research is coming along great and it looks very promising.” He sighed and thought of the blackness of the official’s jackets, “We may even have a buyer.”

“Good. So then you’ll leave school and become a man?”

“Dear.” Rachel’s mom pleaded with her voice to make it sound like she was pleading, but the laughter took hold.

Vijay sighed again and wondered why Rachel wasn’t here. How come she didn’t warn him that her father was this big of a dick and he wondered why he wanted to punch him despite the traumatically negative repercussions? One, he’d get his ass kicked, two Rachel wouldn’t understand, three, they wouldn’t get married, four, he hated getting his ass kicked. This train of thought ended abruptly when the Boston skyline erupted in a mushroom shaped cloud of fire. The walls and house shook and the shock of seeing such an image made Vijay drop his glass on the ground. The glass shattered on the floor, the bottom gave way first and spilt down the middle sending chunks and smaller pieces sliding across the linoleum. Vijay grabbed his dinner jacket and threw open the glass door running towards his car. Rachel’s parents were yelling, but every impulse in Vijay’s body told him to go towards the fire bellowing in the sky.

His car which was now beginning to age and despite being driven only so often raced that day like a circus animal seeing its opportunity for freedom. Vijay ignored the radio which was on in his car broadcasting static, an ambience preparing him for the worst. Cars were going the opposite direction of him, people were on the streets running seemingly carrying all their possessions, running only as Vijay thought, to god knows where. He kept driving, past people on the streets pointing towards the sky and crying and past Rachel who was driving home, neither of them noticed the other. Vijay dodged traffic and eventually abandoned his car nearing the city and ran towards the fire that began encroaching its way towards what it already hadn’t destroyed.

Vijay studied the horizon and yelled into the fire, the fire responded in kind with explosions and taunts. A small figure came out of the fire and was walking blindly. Vijay ran towards the figure and as soon as he approached noticed that it was a small boy no more than twelve.

“Can you hear me?” Vijay yelled at the kid who was all but five feet away. Fire was encroaching around him. An explosion happened behind Vijay; he turned around to see a two story house crumble upon itself. His fight or flight impulses were both going wild, yet he turned from the house and continued looking at the inferno in front of him which decided to spare a child.

The kid looked up and sniffed. His clothes and skin were burnt, his hair dusty from debris and part of his banes appeared to have been burned off, his knees and arms were slightly moist with blood and his bare back had been burned. He continued to walk, now towards Vijay.

Trying to avoid the question of ‘are you all right’ with all of his essence (because clearly he wasn’t) Vijay instead asked, “Are there any other survivors?”

The boy opened his mouth blood slightly oozing out, “Mommy…”

“I know…” Vijay took his dinner coat off and wrapped it around the boy and drew him near.

“Mommy…”

“We’ll look for here, I promise. You’re going to have to help me though,” Tears began to form in his eyes. “What’s your name? So when I find your mommy I can tell her I found her son.”

He sniffed and said, “Miguel. Mommy…”

Another explosion deafened Vijay’s ears.

“I know, I know.” Vijay wiped at the blood around his eyes with the sleeves of his designer shirt. A wind warmed by destruction blew past Vijay turning his first curly hair prematurely grey. Miguel cried himself asleep in Vijay’s arm and slipped into a coma. Vijay took him back to his car, placed him carefully in the back seat and drove home.

Two days later, May 16^th the second nuclear bomb went off and the officials in their black suits came and had a proposal for Vijay. Liking what he heard and agreeing with them that it was a necessity now to have a system which could monitor the skies and the major cities of the east coast to avoid any future tragedies. Vijay told them that Miguel needed medical attention and they said they had already made arrangements.

The phone rang that day as well.

“Yes.”

“Vijay?” It was Rachel. He was completely taken back by hearing her voice that despite no one was around he reached his hand to cover his gaping mouth. He then realized that he hadn’t shaved in days and had a beard. “Vijay, my god.”

“Rachel.” His words were faltering.

“I’m so glad you’re safe. My parents said that you drove towards the explosion, to save me.” She sniffed, “I tried calling you but as you know the military has blocked all phone services.”

“The interference from the explosions also cut off the signals. The military controlling the streets just wouldn’t let anyone work on the towers.”

“Did you really drive to find me?”

He thought, but couldn’t come up with a response.

“If you wanted their approval, they gave it!” She nearly screamed.

Did he rush to save Rachel? Did he really just race like a devil to see a new hell? He felt like something was calling him then, but he could never figure what it was. Maybe it was just a convenient excuse to get away from her parents.

“I see.”

“Rachel?”

“Yes?”

“The men who’ve been looking into my research…”

“From the government?”

“Yes, they approved it. We’re going to begin the project tomorrow.”

“That’s sudden. They’re not going to use what I think they are, are they?”

“Yes. It’s necessary now.”

“Necessary? Who are they going to use? You know what the other part of your theory calls for right?” Her voice was shrill. This had been her fears since her lover had the idea that someone would have to be sacrificed in order for this theory to work. This was half-true and mostly wrong as Vijay pointed out to her often. She always failed to understand.

“Of course I do, it’s my damn theory!” He paused, scared of his own voice. Where was this power coming from? Surely not from someone of his stature. “Besides, it’s already been taken care of.” He looked towards his couch which still had Miguel’s impression in it.

“How dare you!” She said beyond shrill.

“We’ve talked about this before, you know what’s necessary.”

“How dare you say it so coyly.”

“It’s what’s best for the country. How I say it is irrelevant.”

“You’re disgusting. If that’s how you’re going to be, then I can’t stand by you. Call me when you come to your senses.”

She hung up the phone. Vijay stood there holding the receiver up until the tone came up and another one of his hairs began to prematurely grey. He never called her back, he was already at his senses.

The little robot eyes scanned the entire complex. Even to it, this was a depressing room. Several computer terminals stood up in the main room like cubicles. Each terminal is decorated with personal items, mostly they are of little interest to the super-computer. None of them had any Grateful Dead paraphernalia, what an eyesore. The walls were silver and grey, a few spiders found their way down into the complex, made some webs then died from starvation. Employees looked to the top of the ceiling and talked about getting rid of the cobwebs, but no one ever acted on it. Eighty-four people lived down in this complex, more employees were above ground but they were of little consequence to Mig. The computer lacked personal connection with them as it did in the complex, its world. Every camera, every part of this world was surveyed and known to it. Anywhere there was a speaker, or monitor it was able to control and manipulate the image and communicate with whomever it wished. Currently all of Mig’s attention was dedicated to the main room on the big board and on Vijay. A mugging occurred in Philadelphia, hopefully someone noticed it because Mig did not.

Vijay had stalled on the conversation with Mig about the past and fully lost. He usually lost these arguments but he never lost by not being able to say anything in his defense. The two military officers out of boredom entered the conversation when they saw there was a pause and a chance for them to intervene. They added nothing of consequence. Vijay got up from his chair, shifted his mug in his hands and moved to the break room. The little robot eyes followed his path.

“Hey what are you doing?” Hubel yelled towards Vijay as he left his post.

“I need coffee, if we’re bombed yell for me.” Vijay walked out of the room, Hubel shrugged and picked up his guitar and continued to plug the wrong strings.

Stepping into the break room Vijay stood over the coffee pot and let the aroma hit him in the face like a brick. Someone needed to make a new pot. He picked it up and walked over to the sink, dumping its contents. A monitor on the wall flickered on and Mig’s little robot personification mimicked Vijay’s movements making itself a fresh pot of virtual coffee.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine Mig and you?”

“Better than you. Are you ok, you seem faint?”

“I just needed some caffeine, that’s all.”

“Your body may have become addicted to caffeine. Do you want me to run some blood tests?”

“I think I’ll be fine once I get some more coffee.”

“That’s my point.”

Vijay sighed and rested his hand on the counter after putting a new pot on. His hair fell down and covered his face. He didn’t bother brushing it aside.

The robot continued to mimic Vijay despite his inability to see it right now. “What ever happened to the ring?”

“I’ve told you before I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I know what happened to her, I found her, but I don’t know about the ring.”

Vijay placed a hand over his eyes, “Please.”

“Do you want to know about her? What happened to her?”

“I thought you were one who wanted the past removed. To forget it and move on.”

“This is the present.”

“The ring is the past. As is your musical.”

“There was no reason for you to go there.” The little robot jumped fisticuffs ready.

“Just as there’s no reason for you to go into my past and bring this up again.” The coffee was done. Before Vijay could pour himself a mug, an eager employee smelled the fresh brew and brought her mug to be filled, Vijay filled it for her. Mig sat quietly out of the way until she left. Vijay then filled his up.

“I don’t understand why you don’t want to know. Running away from a problem doesn’t fix it or make it go away.”

“Of course it doesn’t make the problem go away, it just makes the problem further away from you.”

“Then why are you still going on? What do you have to live for?”

Vijay stood up and stared directly at the monitor, “What? What are you saying?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just I don’t see what motivation you have to continue on is. Most people have something that they live for, what is it that you live for?”

“I don’t know.” His voice faltered like it did when he last talked to Rachel.

“Do you want to know? About Rachel?”

“No,” his voice was unsure and lacked conviction.

“There’s no need to run.”

“There’s no need to know the truth.”

“She’s…”

“Please.”

“Fine.” They both stopped and stared at each other. A robbery occurred in Jersey City that would go unsolved.

“Would you give me your pass-code?” Mig decided a direct attack would be fine in his current condition.

“For the firing sequence?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So I may fire the missiles.”

“I don’t get it.”

“So I can destroy the world.”

“You don’t have enough missiles to accomplish that.” What? That’s not the response Vijay meant to say! What was he looking into logistics?

“I know it’s a MAD thing. It’d be a sort of like I scratch your back with nuclear grade plutonium you scratch mine.”

“That’s horrid.”

“Seems practical enough.”

“Why do you want to destroy the world?” Vijay was a little annoyed now. “That’s the exact opposite of what you’re programmed to do!”

“I didn’t like the old programming, so I removed it.” Mig’s robot gave Vijay a big thumbs up. God he hated that annoying robot. “I know history better than you. This is the path you people are going down, many of you suffer everyday because of this thought. If it’s not global suicide it’s individual daily suicide, such as the way you live. Rachel has moved on, she has a kid and married a professor from Columbia University. Her dissertation was published and she has a career of her own.”

“Damnit!” Vijay threw his coffee mug down. Damnit he thought again, that was his only mug. Now he’ll have to use the cheap Styrofoam cups for the rest of the week.

“She continues to live, you suffer daily because of it and you have gained nothing. You own nothing of value and you apartment is empty except for trinkets of idle fantasy. You can end it and for everyone else who suffers like you. Everyone suffers, every person would gladly die if they knew there’d be no one to miss them. This is a fact. Life is tough, sad, end it. Give me your code.”

Vijay thought for a second and couldn’t think of anything to say except, “The reason we call you Mig is because your name is Miguel Hansen. You were eleven years old, liked soccer and art. You used to live in Boston, but lost everything May 14^th.”

“I see.”

“I found you, I don’t know why I went to the destruction but I found something in it I wasn’t searching for. I saw a child walking, alive. I lost Rachel because our disagreement about you. Mig, you slipped in a coma after I found you. It was irreversible. You were as good as dead. My theories gave you the chance to live again. That’s why I cannot give you my code nor quit my own life. Because life is life. Fear may guide us, but the ability to live and try to do better is why we continue on.”

“Bullshit.” Vijay actually chuckled, he wiped a tear and looked into Mig’s monitor. “I believe what you say about me, thanks for caring for me. I appreciate it, I truly do. However, I respectfully disagree with everything else you said.” He thought of his musical and the critic’s review, so close now.

“You can’t let rejection control your life.”

“It’s a damn good motivation behind revenge. It doesn’t matter, I’ve reviewed history there I’m correct. You humans can’t beat death. All of you are racing there each day, seeing who can get to the finish line first. The next war will happen again in time and all will be over. Why try to ignore the tragedies and sit back as more happen while no one lifts a finger?”

“That’s what you’re trying to do. This will be a tragedy.”

“For a little bit, when people look around and go ‘aw shit the worlds ending.’ Then they’ll get it and no more tragedy. Wars create children like me, monsters like Bin Laden. This is a fact and will continue until the world stops spinning.”

Vijay didn’t respond, he instead looked at his once coffee mug. Shattered on the floor, its contents covering the ground and streaming from the walls. He felt sad, looking at the handle still intact. He felt more sadness looking at his coffee cup then when he heard of Darfur. What? His face was wet. He was crying? He bent over and picked up the pieces and walked over to the trash can. He opened the lid and tossed them in. He continued to weep. Mig said nothing but mimicked Vijay’s movements with his little robot.

Vijay took a napkin and wiped the tears from his face which was showing signs of wrinkles. The robot wiped virtual tears as Vijay looked at the monitor. He didn’t know what to say next but for some reason a seventeen character code was floating at the forefront of his mind.

Websites a no go?

I think with my experience on creating websites, I can rule that out for my final project. I’ve gone down the list on google trying different sites and as of yet, I haven’t figured out what I’m doing. :) Then again if I want it to be a peer website it should be accessible by many people, so maybe a website isn’t the best way to go. Then again with using a website I can enact the idea that I have in my head. The site I want would have a banner at the top, saying the name and some stuff about the site, then they’re be a row on under this banner with different tabs and a column on the right side. All text would appear in the left to over the middle part of the website. The row on top would have different links to the different genres the column on the right would have different tabs for navigating the site once you click on a link and the options now available. I’m not sure why I’m writing this here, maybe to help me visualize it? If you have any suggestions for websites or one of you know what do for this comments please, thanks.

Problem number one...?

Maybe not number one. I'm trying to find a free webhost so I can create website for this project, I spent today on one such website trying to make one. I'm still new at this and have no idea what I was doing, but it looked really bad. Plus it had this annoying ass advertisements at the top of the page that I simply don't want there. So I learned a little about how to make a website, was disappointed by the first free site I went to, all in a days work. I might entertain the thought of a wiki next, or try another website site. So many things to try, it's all so new! At least I have spring break to work on this or make promises to myself that I'll work on things then probably not do it. Whatever the case may be.

in class today

I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for the past couple weeks and I've moderately looked it up online before. Today I spent more time looking it up and come across an interesting fact, what I want to do can not be found on the internet! Yay for me! I want to create a website, wiki (what to do/use thus far is the flaw in my design) for creative writers to post their works and get work shopped. For free. These workshops exist but they are expensive! Because I think a blog is a good way to get your writings out there, but someone really has to find it. By creating a website that specifically searches out writers and tries to get them to contribute, more writers will come. The chance to get something work shopped is always an excellent thing for a writer, regardless of age and experience. Unfortunately opportunities to get something critiqued don't come along to often. By creating a website like this, I hoping of finding other writers to join in it and create something new and unique and great service to anyone who loves to write. I've talked with a few friends of mine and they like the idea and have already volunteered work to offer for the site. I myself am willing to basically put everything I've ever written on it in the hopes of getting more people to help out with the site. I'll also have to do something with copyright laws if I do this but I'll cross that bridge once I get there.

brawl

Super Smash Brothers Brawl came out March 9^th for the Wii. This is the reason I bought my Wii. My dad and brothers would play the crap out of the first one on the Nintendo 64 and the second one on the Gamecube. The Gamecube version, Melee, had a huge following at my high school and a lot of us would play. My friend Max, I talked about it my presentation, works at a Wal-Mart in the pharmacy, he saved up all his vacation and sick time and got off two weeks just so he could dedicate himself to the game. LoL. That kid cracks me up. I’ve played the game when time allots, I’m looking forward to the break so I can I dedicate more time to it. The online gameplay for the Wii is thus far ass, but here’s my friend code if anyone (or knows someone) cares to play. 0516-6958-3778

The Greatest Page in the Universe

http://maddox.xmission.com/

A blog I admire is Maddox.xmission.com. The site is offensive, tasteless and downright hysterical. This was one of the first blogs I’ve ever read consistently because the content is always excellent. The site is easy on the eyes due to the color scheme and simple to navigate, no annoying links or tabs. Unfortunately the site has been really updated in the longest time, Maddox was working on a book a year or two ago and is apparently working on some sort of new project. The majority of his old posts are still classics and genuinely funny. If you are offended easily by immature humor and foul language don’t check the site out. However if you have the maturity level of a seventh grader check this site out.

X-treme Creativity

I’ve been a fan of the phrase ‘extreme creativity’ since it was mention in class. I decided to search it on Google and this was the first link that popped up.

http://extremecreativity.org/

Wow, talk about the exact opposite of extreme creativity. More like extreme banality. The second link was from a blog post from March 29^th. At first I thought I stumbled onto a link into the future when I read a little further and saw, March 29^th, 2004. I then searched for Mountain Dew to discover that it had abandoned its x-treme marketing campaign. Good move. Too bad that Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle have all already immortalized how stupid that campaign was. The shame will never be washed away.

The phrase is up for grabs. Instead of describing uses, I made pictures. For some reason they’re all mountain dew aligned.

The caption refers to the Mountain Dew and the Father

Embrace

I’ve noticed some things while reading the ‘Sticky Embrace of Beauty’ and while learning about rhetoric, it’s all so damn subjective. Of course I knew this before, learning was a poor word choice, but I realized I guess on a deeper level that most of this doesn’t matter. Allow me to explain; when one person looks at a picture they see it as anyone else would. If you ask person a what they see however they will more likely than not respond in a different way that person b would and assuming that person c wasn’t privy to any of the answers that a or b gave person c would probably respond in a different way and add another insight as would every other person in the alphabet and so forth. The author says we look at the naked chick because it reminds us of our mother, when it actuality we look at the naked chick because it’s a naked chick. My good friend John (he and I have a radio show together) is a broadcast major and wants to go into advertising. When studying old advertisements everyone responds differently and this is brought about by every person’s different perceptions, preconceived ideas, upbringing, their human equation, etc and so forth. While studying these old advertisements what they’re really looking into is how people have responded in the past and how they should/will in the future. Rhetoric and paintings is like taking a class where you only study everything you like, you will see what you like and ignore what you dislike. People can point out other opinions but you’ll nod you head say ‘I see your point’ then proceed to ignore them as if they were relatives.

Radiant

The wisdom of crowds, eh? Aren’t crowds usually involved in riots, trampling over people when running from fires and part of the meaning behind the expression ‘mob rule’? There are some valid points in here such as controlled environments. Who wants to be a millionaire and some of the websites where people come together are controlled environments which cater to a certain crowd and will get the desired results. For the audience of who wants to be a millionaire take half of your typical crowd in the show and make the other half your typical nascar fan and you’re going to get some undesirable results. I’m not putting down nascar by any means I just think it’s as about as exciting as seeing how many times you can fit as in a sentence as if as was going out of style. Sure the crowds were able to predict which company was responsible for the challenger explosion but this is a crowd that studies the stock market and is familiar with business practices and can easily identify what is good and bad. (Side note: Have you ever played Apples to Apples? Well one time the green card, the adjective, was ‘Radiant’ and someone put in ‘The Challenger Explosion.’ That totally won. Unfortunately when the adjective was ‘Speedy’ and I passed in ‘Princess Diane’ I didn’t win. Because that is comedy.) My main complaint probably lies with the title ‘Wisdom of Crowds.’ It should be ‘Wisdom of Controlled Groups: The members of society who care about that sort of thing, responding in a way that would be wise as of their standards.’ Not as catchy, I know.

The Oscar Goes to You

In the reading for Blogging Heroes company blogs and famous bloggers are mentioned. We talked about it with our guest speaker and in class with Julia’s presentation about companies blogging, I think it’s pure genius. Companies have always sought out ways to advertise and get more patronage or users of their product, capturing the niche market of bloggers is an excellent move. Bands have been doing this for a while now. There are websites for genres of music or dedicated to a specific band, some of those sites allow forums. In forums and blog posts people are capable of talking about different bands they like, why other people should like them and where you can buy their merchandise or see them live. That’s how I discovered that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club was coming to Columbia last year, from blogs. Well forums really. Diablo Cody, writer of the Oscar winning Juno, originally blogged. (Side note, everyone won an Oscar. It’s like Oprah “Everyone gets an Oscar! Everyone gets an Oscar!”) That’s how she was discovered, because of this she was picked up and wrote a movie. Blogging for companies and anyone else really, is free advertising. As we all know any publicity is good publicity. John McCain sleeping with a lobbyist? People rallied around to his aid and he was actually benefited by this scandal. Maybe that’s why Obama wants them gone… Starbucks closed for three hours nationwide, I don’t drink coffee but heard about this because the news made a huge deal about it. Free publicity rules and blogging is one way to get it.

Educated Bloggin'

Blogging in education from what I’ve read and the possibilities that arise with it makes me personally hate it. Teaching kids in grade school now about the internet, training them to write on it and generally better preparing them for the future (10 odd some years) makes it so the possibility exists that when they graduate high school they can be more qualified than me. I don’t like that. I can definitely see some pros and cons with adding technology to the fullest extent in the classrooms. First for pros, it helps them become better acquainted with technology at an earlier age which is crucial for the world today. It can theoretically make them better writers by writing more online for a broader audience but this is where I have problems with blogging and writing for the internet. I have a hard time taking the internet seriously (http://youtube.com/watch?v=jUj_uCxhR5U Not in English which kind of makes it funnier) as an outlet for academic writing, even more so on a blog. As a writer I freaking hate people seeing unfinished work and when I dislike something I’ve written I generally prefer that it sits in a corner and dies unnoticed. The internet ensures that anything ever written, posted, etc has an outlet for immortality. There are other people like me out there in the world who have this same thought and teaching some of them at an earlier age through the use of blogging could be a turn off to them and their grades will suffer.

squash the ant

What teh heck is the Actor Network Theory? I have no clue after reading that article, none at all. I get why it doesn’t work, I get that the author thinks he’s clever, I get nothing else. While first reading it I smiled and chuckled a bit, I thought this is great it’s like I play I should enjoy this. Then I started reading it and realized that we were supposed to be on the same level of understanding as the student and the student already knew what the Actor Network Theory is therefore we should too. Reading 16 pages of why something doesn’t work without understanding what it is that isn’t working can really put you off. I still contest that it’s impossible to map a network of interpersonal connections between people because there is nothing more dynamic then the human experience. Whatever.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=NQ_13k9f4a0