every once in a while...

Things just work out right for a change. As in... the little one's bad sleeping habits for once have a POSITIVE impact. Since he missed his afternoon nap today, I got out of going to 5:00 PM Mass with my wife and daughter so I could stay home while he slept. Ha... take THAT, God!

Anyway, we bought a Xmas tree today, so I just need to spend a little time cleaning up the living room while they are gone... make the whole place somewhat TreeReady. We're trying a third tree position in three years. Something about this living room just makes it tough to find a place for the tree. This year, we decided to put it between the LR and the kitchen, so that the big AntiBabyGate can serve to block off BOTH the kitchen AND the tree. Always thinkin'. We have NO idea what to do about the train/village setup, though. There is NO WAY that would survive the onslaught of the one-year-old. It may be taking a one-year-vacation.

That's it for my quickie Holiday Weekend Update...

D.

who would have thought...

That such a thing even EXISTED in the world as a hot, Swedish, female, genius mathematician.

I think I'm in love

Dr. Dave

checking it twice...

So, is everybody out there SHOPPING today like a well-trained capitalist? Good job. My wife left at 7:00 AM, and she doesn't even really NEED anything. I'm going out today, but I'm just buying stuff for myself! (All CD's at Circuit city $9.99!!) I don't really see any good "gift" ideas for OTHER people. Aaahhh... the Season of Getting!

D.

what i'm thankful for...

i'm thankful that the fire from the flaming marshmallows atop the sweet potatoes didn't spead beyond the oven, and that it only set off the smoke alarm the SECOND time it happened.

i love the holidays.

d.

hearing... music...

I haven’t really felt the need or desire to write this week. Somehow I’m really busy... and yet nothing’s going on. Nothing worth writing about anyway. The most noteworthy thing going on in my life right now is that my left ear is completely plugged up. It’s not an ear infection YET, but I can’t imagine how it won’t become one soon. You don’t have mucous trapped in your ear for a fucking week without it getting infected. It sucks, though... I’m stone deaf on that side. And just the feeling of it is driving me CRAZY. It’s like there is a big wad of cotton crammed in BEHIND my eardrum. I take every opportunity I can to hang my head upside-down towards the ground, cuz it makes my ear go s-l-l-l-l-u-u-r-r-r-r-r-p-p!

One bit of fun yesterday... they opened a “Guitar Center” about three blocks from where I work. They are like the Wal-Mart of music stores... just... BIG. Some people don’t like the big music stores, they like the “friendly neighborhood” music stores. I don’t buy it. It’s the same with bookstores. If the prices are better and the selection is better... what’s the fucking problem? Anyway, this place is HUGE. I spent two hours there yesterday, and didn’t even scratch the surface. And something very bad happened. I fell in love with something. Yeah. Dangerous. A Martin X-Series acoustic... koa wood, satin finish, unfinished neck... oh my God. I played this thing and the BASS... it made my ribcage vibrate. I’ve played guitars through AMPS that didn’t project the volume of bass that this acoustic produces. I’ve played BASSES with less bass. And I don’t know where those frequencies come from... it’s not a really huge-bodied guitar... it’s no bigger than the Seagull I own. But... fuck. I was literally moaning with pleasure in the Guitar Center. And it’s only $469. I know... “only?” you may say... but for a MARTIN?? It’s a fucking steal. For a guitar that sounds this good... $460 is a fucking STEAL.

I. Must. Have. It.

Time to sell some crap on eBay!

In other musical instrument news, I may be buying a bunch of Vietnamese folk instruments. The Natural History Museum has had this big Vietnam exhibit which closes in January, and they are having clearance sales on all of the gift shop stuff. The musical instruments are HALF OFF! Plus I get a 10% membership discount. So there are weird, exotic, Asian stringed-things that I wouldn’t even consider buying for $80-$120... but for $40 - $50?? Fuck yeah... I love exotic strings. They are beautiful... as in... “wall-art” beautiful, but also playable. Fun stuff. I just have to decide between the long-necked two string “moon-lute” and the 15-stringed-koto-like thing.

Imagine how bad I’ll be when I’m living in Alabama making twice as much money? I might as well skip the middleman and just buy a fucking music store.

D.

it flies...

time, that is...

no time to write an entry on the train today... catching up on a backlog of work email and working on a new powerpoint for astro class.

maybe later today?

d.

things you just can’t say...

One of the students in my class is an Orthodox Jew... great guy... religious studies major... really smart... rides a skateboard to class... wears a yarmulke every day. Fine. No problem with that. But today he was also wearing a red bandana tied around his head. First of all.. does anybody DO that anymore? And WITH the yarmulke?? It’s quite a look, I have to say. And the immediate words which came into my mind to describe him were just inappropriate enough not to be able to say out loud. But here, I can say anything.

So, with that in mind...

“Hey... nice bandana... who are you supposed to be? “Axl Rosenberg”?”

wshew... I feel MUCH better now that THAT is out of my system.

D.

stomp, stomp... glare, glare... jiggle, jiggle...

The wife and I watched the “Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show” the other night. When it was over, my wife said – “We just wasted an entire hour of our lives... watching skinny chicks stomp around in their underwear.” Yeah. It was that bad.

And so many of the models were just... bleah. I guess what the fashion industry people are looking for is someone with a “unique look” or something, but what they wind up with are chicks that just look freaky. And SO skinny, some of them. There was one chick who was positively skeletal... like a concentration camp prisoner. And she had bad posture. Who ever saw a model with bad posture?!

My wife thought Sting was pretty hot, though.

D.

what the hell...

Did I just watch a helicopter fall on Dr. Romano? And then nobody even bothered to notice it for the rest of the episode? Who the FUCK is writing E.R. nowadays?!

The term "jumped the shark" has become standard terminology for a show which has started to go down hill. I think the new term for a show which has hit rock-bottom and become completely unwatchable needs to involve helicopters in some way. Perhaps - "dropped the chopper" - will do.

How fucking mindbogglingly lame.

D.

when i’m sixty-four...

Hey, when my wife and I are both like a hundred years old, so that we both take about one step every three fucking seconds... could somebody out there please take it upon yourselves to remind us to go down the steps in the subway in SINGLE FILE!!

Cuz being so old, I may forget how fucking irritating I am.

D.

moral relativism of the day...

Overheard on the train today... two New York guys... blue collar “Tony” and “Vinny” type guys are discussing... quite loudly of course... their jobs and some sort of Union elections coming up. On the matter of one of the candidates, one of the Vinny-Tony’s remarks...

“You know, cuz when you fuck around on your wife, that says something about your character. I mean we all do it... but I’m not runnin’ for anything.”

It’s nice to hear that “character” still matters, isn’t it?

D.

crisis point...

I have to grade this morning.

No... I mean I have to grade... it’s reached that point... the point of – “If I don’t do it RIGHT NOW it will be impossible to get it done. And of course... that’s when it gets done.

And on top of the way THAT makes me feel, I still have this cold or sinus infection or whatever. I don’t feel extremely stuffy but there’s just... this constant feeling that I just took a bad dive into a swimming pool and come up with a noseful of water. That feeling. Not to mention coughing up mucous from the back of my throat all day, and blowing my nose and getting these.... I don’t even know what to call them... “Sculptures”. They are like these big, solid... things... like I’m blowing out the whole fucking lining of my sinus cavity... they’re like big hard plaster casts of the inside of my head.

But I digress...

I have to grade.


D.

deaf and dumb...

In my current overwhelmed state, it turns out I had the perfect “escape” planned... courtesy of yesterday’s release of “The Two Towers” extended edition on DVD. Aaaah... 4 DVDs worth of documentaries and commentaries and extras and minutiae and nonsense... bliss. And what do I discover when I sit down on the train today....?

No headphones.

God dammit. Well... at least I know they are in my office, so I can presumably watch on the way HOME... assuming I don’t forget them again. It sucks, cuz I could have really used that this morning, y’know?

So what the fuck do I do NOW? Grade papers?? Fuck.

I have to do some stuff I’m not particularly looking forward to today... not the least of which is telling my bosses and my co-workers that I’m quitting. And that’s just a HUGE fucking guilt trip, because it means they have to start a faculty search now, which is a LOT of work and a huge pain in the ass. I wouldn’t be surprised if they want me to Chair the search too... as punishment. Reading a hundred and fifty job applications... What fun THAT will be.

*** ** *** ** ***

The hot blonde with the short skirt and too-tight-top is sitting across from me again today. Today, instead of “Elle” she’s reading “Lucky”... subtitled “The Magazine About Shopping”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Vap. Id.

Anyway, I left the house today thinking it would be a nice day... warmish... good for a walk. But now it’s raining, and I’m thinking I may skip the walk and just get to work. I have stuff to do. I probably won’t actually DO any of it, but...

Hot chick is doing her makeup now... I can’t really think anymore...

d.

ps... boy, her shoes are pointy!!

how...i...am...

A friend asked... now that the job decision is over... "How ARE you?"

Honestly? I'm really tightly wound and crabby. And I'm still sick... the whole echinacea/zinc cocktail didn't seem to help much, although I was so busy all weekend I probably didn't take as much or as regularly as I should have. I'm starting too feel a little better... at least my throat is "just sore" instead of "AAAAGGGH!" and it wasn't until I read someone else's journal entry about strep that I thought - "OH, FUCK... I've got STREP"! (Hypochondriacal tendencies, ho!)

But now that this trip is over, I have to go back into my real world and deal with...

Being behind in class preparation (stress!)

Grading papers for my college students (stress!)

Final semester grades for my high school students (stress!)

Thinking about thanksgiving and family and... (Stress!)

Planning for Xmas at home and in Chicago and maybe NOT seeing my Mom anytime near Xmas and having to explain THAT (STRESS!)

Planning a trip to AL in January to look at houses (STRESS!)

Thinking about selling our house (Stress!)

Thinking about packing up and moving all this SHIT (Get the idea yet??)

Disagreeing with the wife about the whole process of building a new house (Yup!)

Worrying that this new job will SUCK and turn out to be a huge mistake (EEK!)

So... yeah... HOW am *I*...?

Fucking hell...

And if you know me.... you know that my immediate reaction to being overwhelmed like that is to just curl up into a ball and hide under my desk, so... you know where to find me.

D.

the job...

I told a friend of mine I took the job in Alabama, and he said "Congratulations... I think." Yeah, I think so too. I mean, I'm more excited about the "lifestyle" change and the potential new house than the actual JOB. It'll be nice to be living in the best neighborhoods in Mobile instead of the WORST neighborhoods in Long Island. And the fact that it was 80 degrees yesterday... that didn't hurt either. And it just "felt" like a nice place to live... the civilized areas anyway... it didn't feel too rednecky or too backwards or too... whatever. We even met an honest-to-goodness GAY person. Well, he was originally from Atlanta, but still. So, it may be different than living in New York, but as long as the waiters are still gay... I think we'll be ok.

Anyway, I kept thinking that the interview was going poorly and that I was putting my foot in my mouth and saying too much and being too opinionated. At some point when I was talking about what I think the curriculum needed, the President said "Well... now you're talking about YOUR vision of the curriculum replacing MY vision of the curriculum." Err...ummm... I.... well... And then it turned out that's what the guy WANTED. He's not so into "vision"... he just wants to fool around and let somebody else do the hard work. Gotta love those bored millionaires.

Speaking of millionaires - you've heard that money can't buy you love, right? Well I've discovered something else that money can't buy you... taste. You should see this guy's house. Pick an aunt an uncle that you have... preferably one where all the uncle does is sit on the plaid sofa and watch TV, and all the aunt does is go to antique stores and buy knick-knacks. Everybody has an aunt and uncle like that, right? Ok, now picture their house. Now imagine what they would do to their house if they won a million dollars. Yeah... that's this guy's house. It looks just like your aunt and uncle's house, except your uncle has a 60" plasma HDTV on the wall in front of his plaid sofa, and your aunt has a huge floor-to-ceilling glass shelving unit for her knick-knacks. Very amusing in a Beverly Hillbillies kind of way. They have a nice "ce-ment pond" too.

But he was nice, and his wife was nice, and he's willing to let me take over the nuts-and-bolts operation of his foundation, so... I think we'll get along ok. We'll see. I won't start until June, so I still have this academic year to ride out. We'll be going down for a week in January to meet with builders and look at houses. It's all going to make for a very interesteing next six months.

Stay tuned...

Dr. D.

done deal...

I took it.

D.

that’s NOT what I mean... exactly...

Ok, I’m going to try to straddle the line here between being politically incorrect and being overly defensive, so... bear with me...

I checked the roster for my courses for next semester (we’re right in the middle of registration) and already my astronomy class has 16 out of 25 slots filled. Pretty cool. But there is one weird little thing. This class is open to all the “divisions” of the university... including the art school. We at the Undergraduate division don’t interact with the art school too much, so I don’t know a whole lot about it. But apparently it has a very large Asian population. I don’t know why... the rest of the college is oppressively white, but... that’s not the point. The point is, of the 16 kids registered for this class, something like 8 or 10 are Asian females. And my only thought today was... ”Fuck... I am NEVER going to learn these kids names!

And it’s NOT because think all Asian people look alike OK? It’s not. But lets’ be fair... if there were 10 blonde, Nordic-looking young women in the class... that would take a while to sort out. Because while they may not all “look alike”, your first order approximation would still be... tall... thin... blonde hair. And so my first order approximation in this case (short... thin... black hair) simply provides no differentiating criteria. Which means I have to go IMMEDIATELY to the second order traits to try to hang people on a memory hook. At least with art students, maybe a few of them will have BLUE hair or something.

But the real problem isn’t even physical appearance... it’s the NAMES. I’m bad with names anyway. It’s the middle of November, and I’ve only just recently figured out who is who in my two classes. I’ve only got 35 students! And I still sometimes can’t remember which one is Julia and which one is Emily. My high school students? Who I only see once a week? Forget about it. Out of 13 of them, I know maybe half of their names. I have no idea why. My brain just does NOT attach enough importance to that task, or something... attaching names to faces. And it’s bad enough when there is a “hook” there already. Like when you meet someone named “Julia”... there are already some neurons in you brain who know that “Julia” is a NAME... you just have to link up that person to that name. But if you meet someone named Soon Yi or Ming Ha... you have to learn the NAME first... and at the same time link it up to that person. I can’t deal with forming 10 new name-hooks all at once... it’s gonna kill me. I’m gonna have to assign seats!

D.

slow hand...

I walked up the steps out of the subway yesterday at 14th street, and sitting on the top step was your typical old-grey-haired-homeless-black-guy. Except this guy was holding a guitar. And old, beat-up, somewhat tiny electric guitar. And he was watching people walk by and holding the guitar in a way that suggested he might have started playing it at any moment, if it weren’t for the fact that...

1) he was holding a shopping bag in his right hand.

2) this was an ELECTRIC guitar, and it was pretty clear that he had no amplifier of any sort.

3) the guitar had maybe two strings on it... one of which appeared to be an actual piece of “string” (cotton!)

And I guess he was just trying to exploit some sort of Manhattan Subway Musician Pavlovian Reflex... like we’re gonna toss a buck to anybody holding a musical instrument without waiting around to hear if any sound actually ever comes out of it. He didn’t even have a case. A real musician would have had a case. (Where exactly am I supposed to throw my money?) Of course, a real musician would have also had STRINGS.

D.

media...

Ok... I know I’m not the first one to point this one out... I think I’ve even heard a standup comedian do this same rant, but it really happened to me last night, so something just needs to be said...

I stopped at KFC last night, just to pick up a little greasy food for dinner for myself. And the drive-in line is long, so I go inside. Lots of people are standing around looking irritated, like they’ve been waiting for their ford for 20 minutes. Not a good sign. And so I get up to the counter to place my order... ”Can I help you?”

“Yes I’d like a small drink and a large order of—“

”We have ‘medium’ and ‘large’ drinks.”

Ok, here’s the thing. No. You don’t. A “medium” is by definition an intermediate state or condition which lies halfway between two extremes. If you’ve only got TWO of something, then you do not HAVE a “medium.” You have a large and a small. And even if your “smalls” are somewhat sizable, that does not make them “mediums.” (Media?) It’s one thing for Starbucks to call all their sizes different words that all mean “Large” – but they can get away with that, because the word “Large” can have meaning all by itself, and let’s face it... you can’t argue with the fact that they’re all pretty damned big. But the word “medium” is by definition COMPARITIVE and requires both a larger and a SMALLER thing for it to be the medium OF.

Got it?

And the other thing is this – if I ask you for a SMALL drink, it’s pretty much obvious that I want the SMALLEST drink you have, whatever that is. Which means that even given your demented re-definition of the word “medium” there is absolutely no ambiguity in my beverage request.

Is this the reason the line is 8 people long? Because you’ve been arguing beverage size semantics with every fucking customer?

I’m sending a letter to the Colonel.

D.

if this isn’t an emergency...?

On the subways and the trains in NY, there are these clearly marked “Emergency Brake” cords. There are also a lot of signs telling you what to do in an emergency:

FIRE: Remain inside, move to an unaffected car, contact a crew member, DO NOT pull the emergency cord.
MEDICAL: Contact a crew member, inform crew if you have medical training, DO NOT pull the emergency cord.
POLICE: Notify a crew member of any unlawful activity, Police can be contacted en route, DO NOT pull the emergency cord.

So, the subway car is on fire, I’m having a heart attack, and a guy pulls a gun on me... and this situation still does not warrant a tug on the Emergency Cord?

Could someone please tell me WHAT MORE SERIOUS situation could POSSIBLY arise during which I WOULD be justified in pulling the fucking Emergency Cord?!?!

Jesus.

Sorry folks...did I do this rant already? With 300 rants a year, sometimes it’s hard to keep track.


Dave

it’s raining like hell, too...

Wednesdays... nothing but meetings... nothing to look forward to. Lots of makin’ copies for Thursday. Tonight will be all about PACKING. We leave tomorrow... right after work... no time to go home first. I’m taking the train out to Queens somewhere and my wife is going to pick me up and drive us to LaGuardia. We get into Mobile at 11:00PM.

Yeah... I should be nice and rested for my interview on Friday morning!

Lots of other stuff to think about. Can’t really think right now. I’ll write more later.

D.

stupidest state quarter...

For your reading pleasure... a random email exchange from today, between me and my grad-school roommate, Sam. I miss this guy. He lives in Atlanta, so if we move to Alabama, he and his family will only be a 5 hour drive away.

Sam: Maybe they're all this dumb; I don't have any others right now. But the
Louisiana coin has a U.S. map with the Louisiana Purchase marked and labeled.
Up above is a trumpet (no player) with musical notes coming out. At the bottom
is a pelican. Just sitting there. (not even a glorified version) Obviously
designed by a committee...one with a surprisingly large pelican faction. It
just struck me funny.

Dave:Yeah... they should have had the PELICAN playing the trumpet. And perhaps even shown the pelican purchasing the territory from Napoleon.

Sam: That would tie it all together very nicely. When I start my own country, I'm
going to get you to design the money.

Bonus points to anyone who can spot the oblique, Pearl-Jam-related inside-joke.

D.

weather report...

No this isn’t where I wax rhapsodic about Jaco Pastorius (although, like all bass players, I did go through a phase)

Today is a landmark weather day... the first appearance of the grey-plaid-wooly-scarf, which means that winter has officially begun for me. Also, the second day of “go outside to start the car and let it run for 10 minutes”, so... yeah.... winter. Just in time for the trip to Alabama on Thursday, right? It’s still 70 fucking degrees there every day. When does that stop? Can anybody living in the deep South tell me when you see the last 70 degree day?? Is it before Xmas? Do you people even OWN a coat? Should I sell my long leather jacket on eBay right now? Fuck.

I started out trying to talk myself INTO this job.... (after all.. the pay is SO good, and you’re SO qualified). Then I started to like the idea so much I tried to talk myself out of it... (it’s Alabama, Dave... Alabama!!) Then I started trying to STOP myself from talking myself out of it.... (shut up, Alabama can’t be THAT bad, can it?? It’s warm!) And so the latest phase of the Alabama Job is that I’m desperately hoping that the interview goes well so that the decision will be easy. Not that *I* do well, mind you... there’s no question about that. I’m hoping that the head of this Foundation is somebody I can work with. I’m hoping he is somebody who I like, or at the very least, respect. I’m hoping that the area doesn’t feel like a foreign, depressing, Third World country. I’m hoping that the sound of peoples’ voices doesn’t make me want to scream. Or worse perhaps... laugh.

I will say, however that all this thinking about Alabama frequently has me humming a variety of songs... apart from the obvious one, I often find myself humming “Deacon Blues” by Steely Dan. How long do you have to live in a place before the name of the place means the PLACE and not some weird mental association you have with the place. I suppose the fact that I don’t go around humming “New York Minute”** should be somewhat comforting.

%%%%%%%%

In other news, I gave my last lecture at the Old School yesterday. Perhaps the last ever? I felt little if any sadness. The process of “letting go” of that place has been too drawn out to feel anything... two years I’ve been “NOT” teaching there. It’s time.

As far as my real job goes, I’m deep inside the Planning Event Horizon... no idea, no idea, NO idea what I’m going to do in class every day. Especially the physics class. And the topic is switching to stuff that I haven’t done a million times before... that I can’t do with my eyes closed, so it’s starting to show. I need to get my act together.

%%%%%%%%

It’s weird... there are a lot of people on the train today that I don’t recognize. Or rather... it’s weird that I’m able to realize that there are lots of people on the train that I don’t recognize. Train commuting is a strange thing. You share this environment with people, but at the same time everybody pretends that everybody else doesn’t exist. For the most part. Or maybe that’s just a New York thing.

It’s so hard to imagine work without a commute. I drove an hour to work for 4 years, I still do that once or twice a week when I go out to the Old School. And now I commute on the train for what I TELL myself is an hour and a half, but really? If you count the drive to the station and the waiting for the train and the waiting for the subway and the subway ride downtown and the walk from the subway station to work? I leave the house at 6:15 and open my office door at 8:45. That’s a two-and-a-half hour commute!

And so we’re looking at these houses in Alabama and the stores and the schools and my office... Nothing is more than 20 minutes away from anything. The private school is 2 miles from my office. The neighborhoods we like are about 4 miles from my office. FOUR MILES!! I can’t even imagine. And as cool as it would be to drive 8 minutes and be at work? I would miss this time... THIS time, my quiet, alone, writing time on the train. When would I get a chance to THINK? When would I write? When would I listen to music? When would I listen to NPR? I suppose I could start riding my bike to work or something.

Ha!

Yeah. That’s gonna happen. I’d be more likely just to drive 20 minutes out of my way in the car every day just to drag out the time. The other thing is... with all that time freed up from my day... If I could convince my boss to allow me some flex-time options... I love to get to work early... I’m thinking, instead of 9:00-5:00... what about 8:00-4:00? Or better yet... 7:00 – 3:00? I could be home by 3:30 every day!

And then I look at my home life and think... ummm... yeah, do I really WANT to be home at 3:30 every day? “Welcome home, honey... have a screaming child.” Suddenly 9:00-5:00 doesn’t look so bad.

That’s a lot of entry for one morning. I’m gonna pack it in for now. Later...

Dr. Dave

** until NOW, that is... “Whoo-OO-ooooo”

books...

Not much went on this weekend... a little shopping Saturday... dinner at Outback. Caught the lunar eclipse driving home, which was good, cuz I had totally forgotten about it. Sunday I took the little one out. The wife had work to do and I needed to get to a book store to select texts for next semester, so I took the baby out. He’ll sit nicely in a stroller at the bookstore, unlike the 4 year old. I spent about 2 hours flipping through essentially every physics, astronomy and math book in Borders. I think I made some decisions...

Introductory Applied Calculus: “A Tour of the Calculus” by Berlinski... “Calculus and Pizza” by Pickover

Modern Physics: ”Simply Einstein” by Wolfson... “The Elegant Universe” by Brian Greene... “Introducing Quantum Theory” (a cartoon book) by McEvoy... and maybe Feynman’s “QED” and “Relativity, the Special and General Theories” by Einstein himself.

Cosmic Mysteries: A big fat boring $89 college astronomy textbook called “Astronomy Today” by Chaisson. Comprehensive, with pretty pictures.

I’m not sure why I think anybody cares. Unless... let’s see... who wants to take my courses next semester “online” through my weblog?! :)

Dr. D.

nuthin'...

any mail in this account?

fuck.

any mail in this other account?

fuck.

any notes in my weblog?

fuck.

anybody on IM?

fuck. fuck. fuck.

weekends SUCK.

d.

more on the textbook thing...

Because nobody enjoys a good dead-horse-whipping more than I do...

Here's a quote from the AP story by one of the guys opposed to the new textbooks. "I wish we'd had the opportunity to vote on each book because they're not the same," said board member Don McLeroy, one of the four board members who voted against adopting the books. McLeroy called the presentation of evolution in most of the books "dogmatic." "People don't realize the threat of scientific dogmatism," he said.

Dogmatic, huh? Funny how nobody ever complains that the presentation of the idea of gravity is "dogmatic". Or photosynthesis. Or atomic theory. Or electromagnetism, for that matter. After all, the bible says "And God said 'Let there be light..." not... "God said let there be self-sustaining oscillations of electric and magnetic fields." And if the bible didn't say it, it can't have happened. Where is the public outcry?!

Fucking Creationists... I'm at a loss sometimes...

Dr. D.

not the usual weblog content...

I've never been the type to run one of those politico-blogs full of news items and stuff, but this news item struck me as noteworthy. It's one of those things that gives me hope for humanity... especially that it happened in Texas.

Nov. 7, 2003  |  AUSTIN, Texas -- The State Board of Education voted Thursday to approve biology textbooks, despite criticism from some scientists and religious activists who say the books fail to present criticisms of evolution.

The 11-4 vote was preliminary and the board was expected to give final approval Friday.

Some religious and alternative science groups had argued that weaknesses in the theory of evolution weren't adequately presented in the books. But scientists and educators argued that the theory of evolution is widely believed and is a cornerstone of modern scientific research.

Yay, Texas.

d.

reckless youth...

I was working at the Old School the other day and a former student came by. She is quite a piece of work... about 6’1”... stunning... spitting image of Julia Stiles, the actress... she was one of a group of about 3 or 4 girls in my first senior class who were 30 before they were 16... y‘know? Just mature and confident and “too-cool-for-school”. And she starts telling me about what she’s been up to for the past two years... going to art school and flying out to LA to do modeling work on the weekends and staying with roommates that “do too much blow” and living with a 47 year-old artist guy and on and on and on...

And I’m thinking, how the fuck depressing is it that this chick has lived more “life’ in 18 years than I have in 35 years... and probably will in the next 35?

I have a lot of catching up to do during my midlife crisis. The clock is ticking..

D.

revolutions...

the citics will tell you it sucks. they are wrong. don't listen to them.

go in expecting nothing more than comic book visuals, sophomoric philosophising, general mayhem, and resolution and you won't be disappointed. and why the hell would you expect anything more?

once you've had enough of the real neo, then go here. I generally have no patience for weepy eyed "animal rights" people, but this is awfully well done.

d.

sights of the city...

I was next to this guy in the subway who had hair in his ears. I mean... not just IN his ears, but all over his ears. Thick, black hair.

Perhaps “hair” isn’t even the right word.

I was next to this guy in the subway who had FUR in his ears. I mean... not just IN his ears, but all over his ears.... they were furry. His ear looked like a little adolescent mouse... like maybe it USED to be hairless, but that it was well on it’s way towards becoming completely covered by a thick, luxurious coat of FUR. You could have very well combed it. Seriously. And for all I know maybe he did.

But you don’t comb fur. You brush it, maybe. But this definitely looked combed. It had a part in it. Hmmm...

I was next to this guy in the subway who had a hairSTYLE in his ears. I mean... not just IN his ears, but all over his ears. It was kind of wavy. It had “body.” I think he probably used styling products on it.... gel... mousse... conditioner... who knows?

I thought that was the weirdest thing I saw today until an old Jewish man from Brooklyn walked past me singing “True Blue” by Madonna. What the hell kind of nightmare world am I wandering through??

D.

mmmm... craaaabs....

I was walking through Penn Station today and there was this place that had a big sign for “Low Carb Smoothies”... and I saw the sign just out of the corner of my eye for a second and I could have sworn it said something about “New Crab Smoothies.”

Then I remembered... oh, wait... I don’t live in Baltimore anymore.

D.

more than flesh and bone...?

We’re “just” flesh and bone people she said... see, that's the thing that fucks ME up. Animals. We're animals... we have jobs and we write novels and we surf the web, but it's really all so much nut-gathering like the squirrels in my back yard. Just stop and look at a fucking squirrel for a minute. It's ALIVE. Look at it go. A big pile of chemical reactions... RIDICULOUSLY far from equilibrium... gathering nuts and gathering energy and fighting off the second law of thermodynamics in a way that is just unbearably fucking unlikely. Carbon and Oxygen and Hydrogen and who knows what the fuck else... cooked up in the core of some red giant star 10 billion years ago, spewed out into the galaxy by a supernova... now a scum of atoms on the crust of some rock... the leftover junk of the solar system that was just moving too fast to become the Sun... a billion years later... bacteria... cells... islands of order, emergent chemical accidents...self replicating and evolving and just mind-blowingly IMPOSSIBLE.

The existence of even a single-celled-anything is enough to make your head hurt if you really stop and think about it. I have no problem in understanding US... humans with all their monkey-brained fuckeduppedness... that's just evolution. Once you have life... anything goes. But the fact that there should be ANYTHING at ALL this complex and interesting happening in the universe... fucking hell... when I stop and think these thoughts it pushes me right to the brink of the God Hypothesis... y'know? Accident? How the fuck? No... it has to be... and then I realize that the only thing more impossible than life is God. All-powerful Superbeings? How the fuck much sense does THAT make?

So on some level, conscious experience, unconscious experience... that's not reality... that's crap. Crap in our heads. Fuck that. What's the real Reality? Matter and Energy. Space and Time. Order and Chaos. Life. Existence. THAT shit is fucked up.

So... she asked about “reality” and “experience”...

Reality is out there. There is a universe out there. As a scientist, I'm at the very least obliged to PRETEND that it's REAL and I understand it... that the things I write equations about... atoms and quarks and electromagnetic fields... they are all REAL things. But really? What's an electron? Is it REAL? Well... not really. I mean, an electron is an IDEA. It's a set of EQUATIONS. It's a description of what HAPPENS if I set up a little experiment and OBSERVE a little piece of the universe. Observations... that's all we have. Sense experiences. Internal mental representations of the outside, but it all lives INSIDE. What is blueness? Sweetness? Electron-ness? These are all representations... mental... not physical. We have absolutely no access to the "Real World"... only our sense-filtered internal image of that world. It IS like the Matrix... ones and zeros... WE make the pictures.

This is nothing new... philosophy... I fucking hate philosophy guys, y'know?

So experience is all we've got. And we have to imagine that our experience is "of" some kind of real, objective, solid reality that is OUT THERE, and that our experience somehow "looks like" the real reality... simply because there is no other useful thing to imagine. Easier just to say that experience equals reality and be done with it.

Except it's clear that we can have experiences of things that are NOT reality. Dreams. Or your little waking hallucination the other day of the woman. The internal "picture making" machine can just as happily make pictures on its own without any input from the real reality. That's what a dream is. Your brain has a part, or a bunch of parts... and it's job is to take all the data... all the images and sounds and tastes that are coming in right now... and combine them with your memories and your thoughts and your "YOU"... and construct from that a picture... a narrative... a little story about what is happening to YOU right now. But when you go to sleep, that little part of your brain... sometimes it keeps doing its job. But it doesn't have the steady stream of meaningful interaction with the external world as its raw material anymore. It just has the buzzing static of your sleeping brain. But that's ok... it combines the buzzing static with your memories and your thoughts and your "YOU"... and constructs from that a picture... a narrative... a little story. Do dreams have "meaning"? Fuck yes. As much meaning as any narrative you construct from reality. Are dreams "experiences". Yes! But experiences of WHAT? I would argue that a dream is an experience of nothing... or rather it is not an experience "of" anything. You know what I mean?? It is PURE experience... experience divorced from the guiding influence of Reality.

Are we having fun yet?

I could talk this crap for hours, but I eventually start to bore myself. If you want more existential bullshit, go watch the new Matrix movie.

D.

head...

Grading exams at 7:30 in the fucking morning... there should be a law against that. My head... ugh... and I’ve only graded 6 out of 16. It’s such a fucking long exam... Jesus, what was I thinking?

I was planning on going to see “The Matrix: Revolutions” this morning at 9:00AM, but it’s registration time at the college and one of my academic advisees signed up for an appointment with me at 9:30. Bastard.

My head hurts too much to write much more, and we’re getting close to the city anyway. Yesterday I wrote some emails to a friend who baited me to talk about the “nature of reality and experience.” I’ll post them here a little later. Then your head can hurt too.

D.

what kind of lemmings...?

The library at NYU is a big building... 10 or more stories. And when you walk inside there is a HUGE atrium... marble floors... giant space, maybe 100’ by 100’... wide open, all the way to the top. First of all... how can they get away with that in Manhattan?? The EMPTY SPACE inside that atrium is as big as a lot of buildings in the city! You could fit a whole apartment building inside there. What a waste!!

So you take the elevator up and on every floor there is a big square balcony-type area that wraps around the empty space, and then outside of THAT are where the books are. I usually frequent the QA-QC sections which are on the 9th floor. Well, apparently over the past several weeks, not one but TWO students have committed suicide by jumping over the railing on the 10th floor and out into the atrium. Eeech. I mean... jumping off of a building is one thing, but there’s something a little creepy abut doing it INSIDE, and dying on a nice black-and white marble floor. Yes, it’s sad...but it’s also a little creepy.

And so now, getting to floors 8-10 is like getting into a maximum security prison. They don’t let the elevators go that high anymore... the elevators stop at 7, and when you get out there is a line of police barricades, some NYU security guards and a few real NYC cops who direct you quickly off the “balcony” area and back to this back staircase which you must climb to floors 8, 19, or 10.

Now...

DO they REALLY think that there is going to be some kind of rash of copycat suicides? Really? I see people jump off the 10th story of the library atrium, and I think... yeah... THAT”S what I want to do! And not that it’s a good thing for people to kill themselves, but can we really do anything to stop it? Could I not kill myself just as well jumping off the 6th floor balcony? We’re in the middle of MANHATTAN... is there really any shortage of tall shit for me to jump off of if I want to off myself?

I mean... maybe it makes me kind of an asshole to be irritated by a minor inconvenience given that such “tragic” events were responsible, but... Hell, if I were one of those people who killed themselves, I would be seriously troubled by the fact that my death was inconveniencing so many people... y’know? They couldn't have possibly forseen that. That's why I’m gonna state explicitly in my will... no funeral procession... I can’t bear the though of my corpse holding up traffic!

Supposedly, when they are finished constructing the 7 foot tall glass enclosure walls, everything will go back to normal. Then we’ll all be saved from our own overwhelming desire to plunge a hundred feet to our marbley doom.

Thank goodness.

D.

i'm going to kill him...

the baby's latest fun practice is to scream every 15 minutes from 4:00 until 5:30 AM, and then wake up for good at 6:00.

what the fuck?

i try to explain to him that there is ony the tiniest, thinnest veneer of civilization which is keeping me from beating him to death, but he doesn't seem to understand.

d.