I Attack The Darkness

So I'm going to run a role-playing game online, posting via a message board. It's with a few guys with whom I liked to 'game' when I lived in Illinois... in fact, gaming with them was so much fun, I didn't really want to give it up when I moved.

Yes. I approch being one of the biggest nerds alive.

I am shameless on this. I'm actually more proud than anything. Hardcore scientist, can quote the Holy Grail, better than average knowledge of computers, went to school forever and loved math, worked for a decade with lasers, paint miniatures, work for an electrical engineering company, and play D&D and all sorts of other D&D types of games. And that's just one small facet of me.

I also like a good white wine sauce with seafood.

Most of you, if you didn't know this about me, haven't really been paying much attention. Anyway, I'm sidetracked. The game. It's in a game system under which I've never played, nor have the players I think. It allows me to tell a story while getting direct input from a small group of others. It just so happens that this group of others can get me in stiches from laughter. It's all any of us can do to run the game while incorporating the wisecracks.

I wish I could translate it for you, but if you don't speak dork or nerd the nuance would be lost on you. And the humor is in the details. It would take forever to explain a simple phrase that causes a grin. Much in the same way that, at least for those of you that speak geek, saying "Leeeeeeeeroy Jenkins!!" elicts a feeling of knowing something really, REALLY funny.

http://www.leeroyjenkins.net/leeroy-jenkins-videos.htm

Such is the nature of the title of this post. The default manner in which someone may find themselves playing a game of this nature is to attack everything that breathes, and to eschew the subtlety of social interaction. Most people know that there is a significant amount of dice rolling involved with the game, with several creative three-dimensional baubles; the four-sided pyramid, eight-sided octahedron, ten-sided, twelve-sided, and twenty-sided icosahedral dice all accompany the ubiquitous six-sided cube. They are hackers and slashers, and they are the stage at which many of the cranially-inactive throw their hands up and say "D&D is for nerds." Yet they usually proceed to lose their money at craps tables, playing the role of "sap" for the casino, and this is socially acceptable.

The beauty of the games are that you help to determine the outcome, and that there is rarely a set course on which the game must travel. As a player, you are reading an interactive book, out loud, with others and trying to accomplish something. The most fun is when somebody thinks of something that no one else has, a thought that twists the mind just enough that you may have touched a place in the creative universe that is new, vibrant, and worthy of contemplation.

It is a place where the seeds of genius are reaped.

That may be a bold, possibly even an arrogant statement to be sure. But part of the element of genius isn't the acquirement of knowledge, but the application of knowledge- in other words, wisdom. It's wisdom that allows you to do things that others may not have thought to do, and that is a path with unending promise.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to running my game. If this sounds semi-interesting to you and you want in, send me an email. The guys are very friendly, and who knows- you may actually like it.

The Other Guy

The other poster's been cramming for a CISCO certification, and is holed up in a cave, much like Gollum, eating fried cheese puffs and burning his retinae on practice tests.

Or maybe it's a SISQO test and I misunderstood. Whatever, he'll be back.

Promotion

I never went into my job thinking I would be promoted into the management level.

I thought about when it would happen, and it was a bit down the road. When we had kids. And a house, and a lawn and such. I just didn't feel like that guy, the half-dead, humorless, everything-is-corporate guy who seems eerily distant for one reason, and that is his title. But here I am. Today, at our annual winter staff meeting, I will be announced as the Director of Quality for my company.

And I'm scared out of my socks about it.

The mood changed instantly when I found out. I was flabbergasted, I was certain that they would find an outsider to hire, to bring in to handle the duties. But there I was, looking at the organization chart with our operations executive, and him pointing to the quality director spot and saying "we're thinking of moving you here." Flattered, in disbelief, amazed, and humbled, I agreed to the move.

I asked for it, in a sense. In my performance reviews, I'm routinely asked for goals, and what I would like to accomplish. I set my goals high but not back-breakingly so, goals that may with just the right amount of effort be 'do-able.' Even then, I don't expect anything. This year I was asked what I'd like and I said "I would eventually like to be billable to overhead." For those unfamiliar, "billing to overhead" means not working directly on a project with tangible output but getting paid anyway- managers and support staff are in this category. I have been directly billable since I started doing my job, and it makes sense. "You did X, so you get the payment we agreed upon." That is now supplimented.

When I broke the news to two lunch friends, the car got really quiet. There were congratulations, but then the real sentiment was dropped: "Guess you can't go out to lunch with us anymore."

I don't want to be that guy! (stomps his feet and pouts, says repeatedly) I don't want to be that guy! I don't want to be that guy! I don't want to be that guy!

Perhaps my childish protests are in vain. After all, I may choose to do what I want. But common lore seems to promote this idea of separation of management and workforce, that you can't mingle heavily with the people you may have to fire, you can't show favortism, and so on. And don't you want to get to know the managment better, anyways?

Truthfully? I don't really care. I work with good people. Top to bottom, they are all good people. I won't have any direct reports, and I won't be hiring any. I'm not the boss of the people I used to work with, and he's just as likely to chum around with his employees as I would be. If I'm invited to a high end lunch, I'll accept it. If it becomes more frequent, I'll turn them down.
But the fear comes from the expectations, the shift in job focus, the shift in responsiblities. I don't know if I can do what they put in front of me. (The peanut gallery laughs, because to them I've done everything that's been put in front of me.) I'm my own harshest critic, and the worst thought I have is having a critic that's in charge of me that's harder on me than I am. The reason is simple. If the critic is harder on me than I am on myself, then there's outside chance that I just don't care enough to achieve to the critic's level.

It's time, I think, to try to blaze a new trail- my trail, the one where I do things my way and accept the consequences of my decisions. It's the way I try to live already, so what I'm really saying is I will fight any attempts to change me from the me I am right now. It's what got me promoted, after all.

Brown Paper Packages

For those of you that give or receive Christmas gifts around this time of year, the discussion I'm having here will sound mundane. It's odd, in a way, that I hadn't really thought about this until now. But the situation being what it is... well, instead of rambling on in a psuedo-justification, I'll just get on with it.

Living 'out here' means that our gifts don't come at first glance as if they have been part of 'the ritual.' You understand what that ritual is- you buy a gift you think or believe someone will like, lay it before you, then cover it in a wrapping. This wrapping may be simple, but usually tends to towards the extravagant and may even have accessories and other doo-dads and trinkets. The wrapping is cut just so, the tape applied with as much precision as one can muster, and the extras such as ribbons and bows added with a flourish. Heck, even throwing the gift in a bag can't be done without colored tissue, a colored or patterned bag, and a tag on it.

The first time I had ever seen the sensible gift wrap really, truly abused was by the other guy that's writing in this column. It was delivered as a gift, but with such disdain it actually made me laugh for the juxtaposition. (The recipient expected it, so it wasn't considered offensive.) The gift was wrapped in newspaper, with an occasional layer of tape- it required effort to open. I made him pay later for his savagery by presenting him with a gift as such, delivered with more stealth. He appreciated it- or at least his near hyper-ventilating laughter lent me to believe as such- as he ripped through the fifth layer of duct tape and newspaper, only to find a sixth. All that for a video game.

Receiving a gift that has been treated via 'the ritual' means it therefore must be addressed through yet another, separate 'opening' ritual. You receive the gift, usually on Christmas day but whatever day that has been designated as a gift exchange day is acceptable. It is suggested that you appreciate the efforts of the first ritual in order to follow rules of courtesy (frequently ignored by ravenous materialistic youth). Once appreciated, light banter may take place that usually hints at feigning either an attempt to guess what the gift is or looked bemused and present that the opener has no idea what it could possibly be (again, often ignored). Only then may the gift be opened and inspected for acceptance. Hilarity then ensues. Oops, I meant appreciation then must be displayed, unless the gift was odd, unwelcome, or just weird. The uncomfortable reaction that, contrary to belief, is very much a part of the ritual must be also treated with social grace lest bad karma befall the recipient/opener.

The gifts I receive now come through UPS, FedEx, or the Postal Service, and there are no festive colors. No 'just-so' taping. No bows or ribbons. Instead, they're brown cardboard boxes, with a dull mailing label, and they look rather industrial. Decorated boxes aren't good for shipping, they say. You can't wrap things and send them, it's too great a security risk; I do understand that and that's not a problem. Coming home to see a pile of brown cardboard, some re-used, some with logos but most without, it reminds me of the distance between me and my family.

You may be sitting there and saying "Well, just open them and see if they're wrapped!!"

I would, but I do not have confidence that they are, infact, wrapped at all. The result would be Christmas gifts that would be opened and known prior to Christmas, which violates the second opening ritual. It's a risk I'm not willing to take.

So remember, when you are sitting with your families or friends and partaking in these rituals, that not everyone that receives gifts can partake in the traditions. Do remember the family and friends you wish you could be with because they are the ones that make you feel generous and bring out the better part of you not just now, but all year-round. Consider that I may be close to you from 2,500 miles away, yet the person that is farthest from you on this planet may live right next door. And if you're lucky enough to see the full moon on the night of the 24th and 25th, know that I can see it too and that we're not that far apart at all.

Best. Commercial. EVER.

Mmmm....toasty.

'A' Case for 'a' Case

“Oh no, there’s a computer problem.”

Normally said at an office, this sentence causes panic in most people. I work in an environment with employees that are… more technically skilled on average than most places, like, say, Dunder-Mifflin. I may be Dwight sans beet farm. I work for an automation engineering company. You might say the staff is good with computers.

But when something happens, even the employees are obligated- nay, required- to enlist the services of the dreaded IT department. These exchanges are usually comical to the IT staff, who have people walk through the troubleshooting kiddie-step by kiddie-step. I am infuriated at the pace of troubleshooting mostly because of the near condescending tone of the IT help staff, and frustrated that I can’t do this myself.

But a group of tech-savvy people, well, they may be able to solve the problem if they communicate well and have the system in front of them. Maybe. If they know how things work.
So our remote worksite, one at a client’s campus and not our home site, has been moved from time to time with relatively little effort. We use a wireless modem to conduct our internet business, thus avoiding the threat of attacking the client’s oh-so-secure network superstructure while being able to perform our day-to-day requirements. But from time to time, our IT department feels the need to perform an upgrade. This has happened twice and has been more disruptive to work than the four moves we have encountered.

What prompted the most recent disruption? We switched wireless modems.

If a computer is not programmed appropriately it doesn’t work, so sayeth the “garbage in, garbage out” edict. Technically a problem doesn’t really occur with the computers themselves. Most of the time, it’s what you told it that causes the errors. We got into that situation with the new modem, but we had to call IT first.

We understood the status of the machines, and we could describe what the problem was: the DHCP router wasn’t assigning an IP address. IT, however, doesn’t operate that way. They start from the beginning and reaffirm step-by-step what may or may not be the problem. The downside to that is that if you understand what’s going on and can tell them, they are required to do the same spiel. I was on the phone for two hours before the IT person said to me:

“Huh. So the DHCP router isn’t assigning an IP address. I wonder why?”

Through trial and error, the engineers managed to solve the problem. We also managed to find the source of the error. Instead of having a security key of 123ac456789, we were typing in a security key that was 123AC456789. Robots and droids worldwide titter with glee at the humor. The net cost was 48 man-hours lost to solving the problem. Over a week’s worth of work, because the IT person didn’t say “lower case ‘a’,” but just “type in ‘A’.” It wasn’t the IT person’s fault for thinking we were entering characters in the appropriate case. It wasn’t our fault for not specifying the case of the letter.

It’s almost always the thing you take for granted in communication that is the critical failure path.

The pol who cried racism

Oh, joy.
In Cook County, board president Todd Stroger is trying to gain support to pass a big sales tax increase, along with increased taxes on other stuff, like bottled water, cigarettes, and I guess other stuff I'm unaware of because I haven't seen the whole proposal.
Background: Todd Stroger is the son of former Cook County board president John Stroger. Daddy Stroger had a bad stroke over 20 months ago, during primaries last year. His medical condition was hidden from the public to ensure he and his allies would win the democratic party primary for CCB president, therefore ensuring that whoever the democrat was in the general election was virtually guaranteed to be voted in.
Even in the general election, baby Stroger had a somewhat hard time getting elected. And this happened in one of the most democrat-leaning counties in the country.
In the meantime, he's promised no more business as usual, vowing to slash budgets, run a tighter ship, and so forth. This is hysterical coming from a guy who ascended to power via nepotism.
Now, one of Stroger's key supporters, Commissioner William Beavers, is complaining that this wouldn't be such a big deal if the people proposing the tax increase were white instead of black.
Bull.
Gee, maybe the opposition is arising because (gasp!) folks don't want to pay more in taxes and some folks have actually impressed this upon their elected officials. Politicians, above all else, want to stay in office, and they know raising taxes is a good way to get their constituents mad at them.
I really don't like Beavers' comment because it does it makes folks more cynical. You want to cry racism? Fine. Watch me as I ignore other, perhaps legit, cries of racism that happen elsewhere. It shouldn't happen, but it does. I know every situation is different, and folks should be able to distinguish between a "cry wolf" statement and something that's legit.
Racism still exists. Beavers' statement is a disservice to those who genuinely want to reduce ignorance in this world. All Beavers is doing is making a last-gasp effort to try to pass his beloved tax increase.
I just hope he sticks around long enough to feel the backlash from his mistake.

The Reason For The Season

http://archive.gamespy.com/comics/dorktower/archive.asp?nextform=viewcomic&id=1300

For the most part, I avoided people this week and weekend. I was invited over to a friend's for dinner on Friday, but I stayed home virtually the whole week. I actually preferred it. I had alot of distractions at home that I really wanted to use, but never could because I was always somewhere other than home. The electronics all got a good work out, I got to cook a sufficient amount, I cleared my list of backlogged TV shows and movies, and I had uninterruptable painting time. Not too shabby from a laziness perspective. I even spent the last day cleaning the apartment, which doesn't sound all that glamorous but when placed in the context of how much time I was there was a relief.

This holiday, however, does a great job of setting up the next holiday- Christmas now looms on the event horizon and is just four weeks away. The usual messages were there, of course: "Come to (our store) and SAVE on..." This area has the usual group of people saying "remember the reason for the season," but there's the loonies out there that agree with them as much as they can. The loonies will say "don't contribute to corporate greed," and so on, but the net effect is the same. It's not that easy, though.

I have had considerable time to think about this for many reasons, not the least of which is the number of times that I haven't been home for the holidays in the last years. But there's also two competing dilemmas in my head as well. One is that I just don't know what to get people. I want to give them something and I want them to feel good and enjoy a little generosity, but I know that if I get something it's not hardly ever used or has no place, or worse it's not liked. Even the phrase "it's the thought that counts" is not a salve when you're in a room with a person to whom you've given a well meant gift that is received as if it were emitted flatulence.

The second is that I really don't want anything for myself. I'm dead serious when I say this. I don't want anything any more. I have all that I need, I make do with what I have, and if I need more I can get it myself at any one of the other 364 days a year. People ask me what I want and I say 'nothing.' I say 'nothing' because the truth is that I do want things, but they fall into three categories- intangible gifts, monetary gifts, or gifts that people don't want to give.

As part of a 'proof-of-concept' of the gift people don't want to give category, I made a gift list one year when prodded that had on it things that I was absolutely certain to find to be cool, but wouldn't be advertised in, well, anything. A quick internet search would have shown easy instructions on how to obtain them, and all involved were net-savvy. Didn't get one of them; I wasn't expecting to, but that's . In addition, one party commented on my list, saying that some of those things were 'just weird.' They may have been, but that's not the point. The point is that it's something that I liked and when prompted for ideas I delivered. This year I want a new rear-passenger car door, because my current one is severely damaged and it makes me sad to look. Don't see that coming, either, but isn't that a legitimate 'want'? Since I won't get things that are 'weird' to some, I'd prefer to say 'nothing.' It doesn't get my hopes up and doesn't confuse anyone else.

So where does that leave us? Intangible gifts usually can't be given (I just want a week of alone time, or time with my family), and asking for money is outright rude even if it's for a purpose (I'm trying to save for a house down payment, could you...) Plus, there are things that are just inappropriate to give as gifts and when you sit down and think about it the definition of what can be given is not as broad as one would suspect. I've seen the idea of telling people who your preferred charities are if you wanted to give, but most people I know give significantly to charity already and to ask them to give YOUR gift to charity 'steals their thunder.' They also wish to be generous and make you happy with a gift, for the same reasons described above. What's more dangerous- telling people you don't know how to be appropriately generous, or telling people you don't want them to be appropriately generous?

We're often told you don't need to give someone a store-bought gift, and that if it's handmade it's more valuable as a gift- the gift from the heart always speaks louder. Christmas cookies carry more sentimental weight to me than many gifts, usually because the sources make them and will as long as they can. I don't know if it's gotten worse or it's the information-overload phenomenon and I know that businesses are just doing what they do to survive, but the amount of advertising to buy gifts can be suffocating at times. But in the absence of that, if you don't have a talent and aren't going to be with your family (or those to whom you'd give gifts), what do you do to express your generosity?

I think I'd better think it out again.

A Complaint

Dear Sir,

I wish to complain in the strongest possible terms about the content of the last post. Many of my friends are on the Cook County Board of Commissioners and they have never been 'yes' men, except when it comes to increasing their own salaries.

Yours, etc.
Brigadier Sir Charles Arthur Strong (Mrs.)

An open letter to the Cook County Board of Commissioners

Good afternoon.
My name is Bill Hronek, and I live in Forest Park. I am writing you concerning proposed increases in sales taxes and other taxes. I ask that when this matter comes to a vote, you vote no. Cook County already has some very high taxes and more than a reasonable revenue stream to fund services.
Should you vote yes in this matter, you will force residents who can barely afford their taxes now to pay even more. You will also alienate voters. I will vote to not re-elect anyone who does anything except to vote "no" on these increases.
Thank you for your time.

Joblessness, parents and ham

One of the real pissers about being unemployed, other than the mind-numbing boredom, is the alleged "freedom" to be available at any time to any person for any favor. Because, well, gosh, you don't have a job to go to, so you can help the family out whenever they call.
I don't mind helping my parents. I know it's part of the whole family deal, and I know they've helped me out a whole lot in my life. I get a little frustrated when they can't be bothered to help themselves properly, though. I'm not quite that ungrateful, really. No, really!
A while ago, my parents had some car trouble. Their only car is over 12 years old, and my dad hasn't exactly maintained it properly. Initially, the car engine wouldn't turn over upon turning the ignition. Dad thought, for whatever reason, that the battery went bad. It's a little odd for a car battery to run out when it's only two years old, and it's not like he drives cross country 50 times a year. So, he bought a new car battery.
Then, he needed some help getting the battery in the car. I guess he just couldn't do it on his own.
A couple days prior to this, he decided to cook a big, spiral cut ham. My mom had bought this ham and stored it in a big freezer in the basement. The ham was supposed to be for Easter. Easter. Over four months from now.
So, I wondered who was nuttier: my mom for thinking, "I'll buy this ham for Easter" or my dad for thinking "I want to cook a big ham on a late October Tuesday."
Of course, my first thought about the honey-glazed goodness was, "Oh boy! Ham!"
At least I had some motivation to go over there.
So, we get the new battery in, and the car still wouldn't work. On a hunch, I took the old battery in a local auto parts store and had it tested. Turned out it had more than ample charge to start the car, so the battery wasn't the problem.
I was pissed. It was a simple thing to get the old battery tested to see if that was the problem, and he couldn't be bothered to do it. He can't afford to waste the money.
I got the name of a local mechanic for my dad, who he finally called four days after I gave him the number.
Guess I was angry because he'd waited so long to call the mechanic and because he'd wasted money on something he didn't need. There are times I wonder how they'll get by, and my dad wasting money on unnecessary crap doesn't help.
All the while I was over there, he kept insisting that I take home some ham. Sure, they had several pounds of it.
At the same time, I suppose I understood a bit why he cooked it. His parents always had food ready for him and his siblings for family visits and such. They've been gone a few years now, and I wonder if maybe he cooked this huge ham in some sort of way to do for me and my sister what his parents had done for him.
Who's crazier? The person who buys an Easter ham in October, the person who cooks the Easter ham in October, or the person who's looking for some deeper meaning in ham?

Life in California, A Visitor's Perspective

I hear this question all the time- "So, Dan, what's it like to actually live in California?"

(OK, I don't. In fact, I think I only got the question within the first three months of moving here one or two times.)

Actually, most of the people that ever asked me that question were Californians. Most of the time it was one of the first questions someone would ask me when they learned I was new here. I'm not sure if it was some kind of test required to get a tax reduction or what, but I got it alot. What I didn't get at first is why people would ask that question. Why should they care what I think about California? If I responded negatively, would it shatter their pre-conceived notions of living in California and influence them to leave. Actually, it was to gauge whether or not I 'fit in,' if I was one of those troublesome non-Californian Americans that wasn't vapid and obsessed with image.

Picture me in your mind's eye. Since exactly when have I ever been obsessed with image?
It doesn't take long to assess that I'm not a native creature or a good transplant. But hey, I'm still a good ol' consumer, so there's always going to be a place for me in a state that charges 9% sales tax. But you don't care about sales tax, and the stereotypical Californian image you can get from watching TV. You want to know about what it's like to live in California. So I'll tell you.
I live in the Bay Area, which is slightly north of the central coast of the state. The state is so big that it could easily be five states, and each would have a distinct, different attitude and way of thinking. Where I live is the most liberal place in the country, if not the world. There are references to socialism and communism everywhere, and it doesn't take too much to realize the people here don't like America much. Mind you, they're in no rush to leave, they just want everything to be socialist so that everyone can be as poor and miserable as they are. They substitute defiance for wisdom and embrace people that cause problems.

The eastern part of the state- the foothills of the Sierra Nevada and the mountains themselves- is a different beast than all of the California you see or hear on the news. They are the "red state" part of the state. Their land is hilly but plains-like until you get to the mountains. There's plenty of stunningly gorgeous nature there. It's second-most likely to rain here, and most likely to snow here. Lake Tahoe is attached, and all the skiing that goes with it. The businesses are rustic and occassionally provide the western image that one thought may have died out in the early 20th century. Not surprisingly, the people are very friendly there. It's odd to drive there because the roads can go for miles without stopping and you won't see houses or towns, possibly not even trees, just cattle grazing.

The northern part of the state reminds you of that Far Side cartoon where the dude is wearing a raincoat, a kid's pool floating toy, a boot on his head, and carries a bazooka with the caption that says "Nature's way of saying 'Do Not Touch.'" There's plenty of really interesting and beautiful things to see there, but I've never felt so uncomfortable being around the rural folk. Their yards are surrounded by 9 foot high fences, often with barbed wire, and showing signs that wish very nasty things happen to very senior members of the Executive Branch of our government. If it doesn't rain there alot, it frequently looks like it will. Most of the days up there are gloomy and overcast. There's more beautiful nature there, and it's not hard to understand why people would choose to live in a gloomy place- the forests alone are nearly zen-like in their ability to make you stop and appreciate nature.

The southernmost part of California- the part that's been mostly occupied by Mexico- is exactly what it appears to be. It's a desert, but it also has two of the larger cities in the country- LA and San Diego. Near the ocean, it's a paradise. It's never too warm, never rains, and is sunny almost every day. The people there are not all obsessed with image, just the ones that want you to notice them. The ocean water is mostly warm, and being the second largest city in America means you have all the things you could possibly want in comforts. Most of the people I've met that are from there are very easy going, don't get torqued up about much, and why should they- things are great there. It's not for everyone, though- remember the image thing- and some people leave saying "I'm so glad I'm not part of that scene anymore."

The central valley of the state is the blue collar, hard and dirty part of the state. Cities like Stockton, Fresno, Bakersfield, Modesto are nice, but in the center of a desert plain- flat, often smoggy, and HOT. Farms in every direction. You rarely hear of any good news from there. It's a place where people are from, but not where anything important seems to happen except crime. Nevertheless, they are brothers and sisters in this great state. You don't really intend to visit there; there's not much in the way of tourist stuff in this part of the state.

The last is the central coast. Ukiah to Pismo Beach, this is where the wildest weather in the country that I've ever seen is. There is usually a 40 degree temperature swing that occurs over a linear distance of 10 miles. On the coast it's cold and gloomy, with cold, gloomy ocean water and fog. Right on the coast there's a significant hill, and over that it's temperate and nice. Occasionally warm, but the fog rolls over the hill to cool it down . Over the next hill and you're in the desert plains. It's perfect for growing wine grapes, and no surpirse that's where all the wineries are. Most people that retire do so there, because the pace of life is slow and pressure is low. It's also got this ability to attract the people who like the weather but not the image, and as a result you get the people that are self-described as 'socially conscious.'

I've noticed that the people are roughly in three categories- one is the easy going, laid back Californian that surfs and says 'dude;' the second is the angry, active, and intolerantly liberal professional paranoid protestor whose eyes cross when they scream about something and hate bathing and fluoride; and the third is the Midwestern transplant. I'd say one in every three people here are from the Midwest. You realize it when you hear someone say, "Yeah, I'm from Minneapolis," or "I'm from Michigan."

It's usually when you ask, "So, what do you think of California?"

Once I get away from the city, though, I realize that I'm driving though the set of virtually every western movie made for the last thirty years. The grass is the gold color it's famous for; pointing out that it's dormant and effectively timber earns a nasty look until it's on fire and people have the temerity to ask "Why did this have to happen to me?"

The nasty natural stuff- the fires, earthquakes, and so on- you really don't worry about. You never know when they're gonna happen, so worrying about it is just lost energy. When they happen, you fight it as best you can, then you rebuild. It's what they've always done. It's the rain I worry about. Not because I don't like rain, but because people lose their minds here when it rains. You live, you learn.

The food here is great. Everything grows here, the state has every growing microclimate in it's borders. There's never a food shortage, but there are occassionally water shortages. I've never had better Thai, Vietnamese, or Japanese food; the rest is pretty good, too!

All in all, what's it like living in California?

It's like waking up on the set of a perpetual movie. Lots of drama from some, lots of wild things to see, but every now and then you realize you're in one of the most famous places on the planet.
And that's... alright.

Please allow me to introduce myself....

It's not often that I write about myself without inserting an obscene joke or being completely ridiculous, so please bear with me.
I'm Bill, and I live just outside of Chicago. I've lived in the area for almost the last 20 years. I've known Dan for the past few years, and he asked that I occasionally contribute something to this site. Being unemployed since the end of September, I realized I needed something else to do other than be depressed, search for jobs, and watch Cheaters marathons. I needed an outlet.
Lucky you.
Here's a brief summary of me. I'm in my early 30s, used to be a journalist for a community newspaper, then worked for a cell phone company, and am now unemployed because of corporate reorganization, or whatever you call it. I've written police reports, feature stories and stuff about road construction. I've been yelled at for late fees, directory assistance charges, and all other sorts of stupid crap that people can't understand on their phone bill. I've shut down and restarted cell sites remotely to make them work again. Now, I'm taking Cisco classes and trying to get work elsewhere.
My interests include gaming, science fiction and home brewing. I just started home brewing a few months ago and have made three passable batches of beer to date. A fourth should be ready in time for Christmas.
GenCon is the most wonderful time of the year. It's my annual geek pilgrimage.
I don't suffer fools. That made for some interesting conversations when I worked in customer service.
I hate, hate, hate ESPN. I detest much of the current news media. It seems that, in general, the media places more of an emphasis on presentation, glitz, and furthering their own agenda rather than stating actual facts and having faith that the public has enough common sense to arrive at their own conclusions.
Then, I see the type of jerks that we elect, and I know why the media conducts itself the way it does.
You don't need to be informed and talk to sources anymore. All you need to do is yell your point the loudest, and you'll get more money and more viewers/readers.
So, what can you expect from me? Sometimes, I'll post about news, sometimes, I'll post about the mundane, including family stuff and large baked hams. Sometimes, I'll just rant about something that ticks me off.
Lucky you.
Welcome to what passes for my mind. Enjoy the trip.

The Scourge of Eurocentric Education

When it comes to issues of academics, education, and learning, I’m usually one to side with teachers. Kids have become more aggressive, more violent, more sexualized, and more empowered in the last 25 years, and teachers are usually not allowed the resources or the ability to legally respond appropriately. I am now realizing that I may still stand with teachers, but not with administrators.

Becoming a principal or member of the school’s administrative hierarchy has increasingly meant a loss of common sense. They can’t necessarily stop hiring teachers who will promote socially sick ideology because, as I understand it, there’s a shortage of teachers. Having watched friends struggle to get teaching jobs because of the hoops and the wait periods, only to get a meager salary and no one satisfied with the state of your job and frequently with your job performance, I can easily understand why the shortage exists.

So occasionally a teacher slips through the cracks, gets into the educational system, and starts telling kids that there’s rat poison in toothpaste and that calling men by the title of ‘mister’ refers to an old appellation to ‘slave master.’ I’m sure this teacher is as focused and dedicated to her children- in fact, I’d say she’s far more dedicated than most other teachers. Insanity allows breaches of decorum such as what I’ve described to give her that “extra edge.”

But teaching kids the wrong things is blatantly destructive. In the sample I’m citing, it comes from a teacher from Houston (link http://www.click2houston.com/news/14548613/detail.html) who has sad a number of conspiratorial, unproven things and labeled them as true and fact. “She said sugar is cocaine,” one of her students told her parents. The teacher may feel that sugar is addictive; she may feel that sugar only comes from heavily oppressed areas of the world; she may even take those feelings and impose them on a white powder. But to use her power to tell kids that sugar is cocaine is something over which one should lose their jobs. And she will not lose her job; if she were released, she would then sue for sexism, racism, restriction on free speech, violation of union rules, and any other number of legal paths that now exist.

I get worked up when someone spouts a ‘truth’ about something chemical that is meant to scare people, to drive a sense of fear about something for which there is no grounds to be afraid. The rat poison in toothpaste statement nudged me the wrong way. Toothpaste contains sodium fluoride. Virtually every tube in your drug store or supermarket will show this. Sodium fluoride is a poison in excess. Fluoride ions can seriously mess with a body’s metabolism- IN EXCESS. Ultimately what should be noted is that no one is suing Proctor Gamble, Johnson and Johnson, Unilever, or any other companies that make toothpaste for releasing toothpastes with rat poison. A battalion of scientists would laugh them into the dirt. But this false knowledge would be perpetuated by the internet. “Good thing the anti-fluoridation kooks are still out there.” (http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1282/is_12_55/ai_103135852)

When you think of this as a singular issue, it may ruffle your feathers a bit but for the most part you will let it go. “Most teachers teach the curriculum, they are not abusing their positions and they do a darn good job.” In that case, why are kids in inner cities so far behind compared to suburban kids? Report after report in every city in the nation reports “inner cities falling behind,” “disparity between urban minorities and affluent suburbs,” and such. This has been the case at least 20 years, and probably has been for far longer. Why does this disparity exist?
Racism, of course! Silly, haven’t you learned? It’s because teachers are racist!
(http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2007/11/12/MNH8T5LTC.DTL)

Yes. The education gap has nothing to do with selfish or overworked, uninvolved parents; underfunded schools are just as capable as fully funded ones; cultural desires to eschew English in favor of native tongues do not impact any child; heck, a cultural assault on the educated in general has no impact at all. You’re going to die in the streets tomorrow, so why learn anything? All you need to know is get a gun, get the money, do drugs, and kill anyone that tries to stop you.

Some like to cite that the best teachers don’t want to teach in the inner cities, and the reason is usually postulated to be that they are racist. On its surface, that’s a semi-legitimate claim because most kids in those schools are minorities- but that also implies that no minority teachers are amongst the best teachers. Surely a minority teacher wouldn’t be racist against their own race, would they? The minority teachers wanting to teach in the suburbs wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that those schools have modern textbooks and roofs that don’t leak.

Nope, it’s a racial issue. And parents don’t influence their kids’ educations as much as schools. Mommy getting home from her second job and not caring about whether the boy got a ‘B’ or the girl has extra credit because she’s tired and just wants a break, that has nothing to do with it. Mommy working two jobs because daddy isn’t there, that has less to do with the education of a child than the school’s obvious and blatant racism.

The fact that Asian-Americans, disadvantaged or not, are a minority and blow away even white children regardless of their financial status says that Asians are not a minority or just simply don’t count. It has nothing to do with the culture of their parents driving them to get high scores in school so that they can go to college and make good money, nothing at all.

And the final nail in all of this is the charge that it’s because the education is Eurocentric.

I’m all for learning about other cultures, and I’m all for becoming more worldly. But this country, this system of employment and economy, of real estate, of everything that people need to know in order to understand why they live in the society they do is because virtually our entire existence is dominated by people, cultures, and nationalities who came from Europe. Further, people who came from other locations may have had an impact, but until rampant tribalism starts re-emerging amongst those of African descent; until our classical literature is dominated by authors from Zimbabwe, Nicaragua, Indonesia, or Bolivia; until the island nations of Micronesia develop an entirely new and fully efficient mathematical system; until Amazonian tribes create a detailed philosophy that explains modern man; and until someone can document how any region in the world has done more to create every modern convenience that China, Europe, or the United States has done, then the education will have no choice but to be Eurocentric.

“It’s not relevant to me.” Bull.

Almost every facet of your modern existence is a product of European culture except your genetic history. I agree that all history should be taught, absolutely should be made relevant, but to hide behind that and say “I don’t need to know math or science because they’re not relevant to my culture” is to remain willfully ignorant. And that only perpetuates rat poison as toothpaste myths, sugar as cocaine accusations, and racist diatribes against teachers not teaching in inner city schools.

No wonder we’re so far behind the rest of the world in education. The facts are no longer relevant to Americans.

What am I Going To Write About?

I have been asked by several people who read my writings, rantings, and other styles of written communication to endeavor in this mythical, aetherial ‘new poetry’ form of the scribed word, and start a “blog.”
Okay, that took a lot of energy. I hate writing like that. If I wrote like that, someone would imagine that I’d speak like that, and I’d rather be hit in the face with a cinderblock.
That aside, I’m finally gathering up the steam to write to a blog, and perhaps ask a few people I know to be talented but otherwise normal proletarian workers to also write. But about what should I write? What subjects are people interested in reading what I have to write looking to read from me? The sheer volume of subjects I could write about is kind of overwhelming, to be perfectly honest. Not that I am a savant or a repository of extreme knowledge, far from it- it’s more accurate to say I can cover any subject through the use of minutae and trivial details to the point where even I can sound like I know something about anything.
So then, I’ll write a little about me before I start writing in earnest. I’m a scientist, having a Master’s degree in chemistry. I work in the pharmaceutical field as a quality test engineer, which means I write tests day in and out. I am an avid gamer, and by gamer I refer to the video-type, role-playing type, and the board type. I occasionally draw and paint at which I am mediocre. I love to travel, and most of you know my writing from my travel blogs. I run fantasy football leagues in which I tend to skewer my opponents on the message board before losing the actual games. Politically, I think of myself as right-leaning, but the tests keep coming up with me being dead-center, both economically and socially.
I’ll throw out some initial position statements here, to see if it piques your interest: I don’t believe in Global Warming, and further posit that Al Gore is the High Priest of that secular religion; the science of pure chemistry is nearly tapped out and will be approaching the level of physics sooner rather than later; even if the U.S. is highly self-absorbed, it doesn’t always mean that the U.S. is always wrong; secular humanists are rude and are victims of their own brash style, failing to convince those they intend to persuade; speaking of religion, as long as humans believe the end of the world will occur in December of 2012 there will be a place for every form of religion; the entitlement mentality is the largest killer of American society; what happens in your bedroom or bathroom I do not wish to know, nor do I care, about- so stop pushing it in my face.
Maybe those were too political. Let me try some more: Nanotechnology was the latest, greatest fear factor in science but now is so last year; solar technology should be so prevalent in the U.S. that it should be an afterthought; green algae could save humanity as a gas scrubber; we need new massive civic projects to protect society from impending fresh water source depletion; there is likely life on other planets, but we’ll not meet them in our life times.
Or perhaps I’ll write about something that I’ve been mulling about for the last week. Hopefully, it will be interesting enough to spark debate, even if that debate is as simple as “I disagree and hope you choke on your own filth, slime.” Remember, I am technically insane and am equal opportunity- I hate all people, races, creeds, genders, and beliefs equally with extreme prejudice. I suppose I’ll post, oh, Monday nights or something.