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August 2, 2003 /

We spent all of yesterday moving the entire world from Richmond and my old apartment into the new apartment with Maria. My forearms are killing me, and our living room is choked with stuff, but my room actually looks fairly good and my bookshelf is full.

I literally did move everything I own this time; I no longer have any possessions in Richmond, and only a few boxes in storage. There was a big ordeal with getting a moving truck (notice: when U-Haul says “your reservation is confirmed,” what they actually mean is “eat a fuck, shitbrains”), but Ian’s roommate’s family had one that was bigger than what they needed and they were kind enough to help.

So it all worked out eventually, but the process took so long that it was 2030 hrs by the time Mom could head back home. Needless to say, it was also a little late for me to go home and pick up the half-day of work I’d wanted. That’s why I’m in the office alone on a Saturday, putting together my presentation for the CEO ‘n’ company on Monday morning. The fact that I’m in the office is in turn the only reason I can post this, since we have no interweb at home for the moment.

Why isn’t there some source of free crappy broadcast interweb, like there is with TV? Ad-supported. Big networks. Come on, it would be so convenient for people who just moved in.

Also, why not make cell phone rings work like my cell phone’s alarm? It starts off by vibrating, then gradually makes its beeping louder and louder until you wake up. It obviously isn’t hard to do, and that would give you a little notice so you could go for the phone before it just jumped in at the same annoying volume immediately. I hate cell phones. I love my cell phone.

Probably no more activity until Monday at the soonest (although of course I make all my posts from work now anyway).

July 31, 2003 /

You know, it took me probably twelve years of consideration, concern and occasional pondering to figure out why people said you weren’t supposed to tuck your shirt into your underpants.

Segue frenzy!

July 30, 2003 /

While I was looking up IMDB stuff for Ms. D____ just now, I noticed that one of her newest roles is the lead in a film adaptation of Shopgirl. I picked that book up for a dollar at the same time as Microserfs and read it just afterward, so that caught my attention.

I can’t assume that anybody out there has actually read Shopgirl, because I don’t recall it doing spectacular business and I doubt it would have seen print if not for its author’s celebrity. Steve Martin plots well and his jokes are rare but good, but a) nobody actually prints standalone novellas and b) it’s pretty lame prose. He’s a comedy writer, not a novelist, so he apparently never learned things like “show, don’t tell.”

That said, the book will probably translate well to a movie, I applaud the casting of Jimmy Fallon as Jeremy, and it’s kind of cool that Martin’s writing the screenplay himself. But even without knowing the plot, doesn’t anybody else find it a little weird that he’s cast himself as a romantic lead opposite Claire Danes?

Warning: You might think this is a little gross.

July 30, 2003 /

I spent a lot of time outdoors in the woods this past weekend, and only discovered Monday night the wealth of bug bites this had bestowed upon me. Naturally, they were all in (shall we say) a couple of delicate, sensitive and well-covered areas. Like right under my socks.

“Ah,” I thought, “bug bites. Fortunately I don’t scratch bug bites, because I have willpower!”

I believed that, too. What I didn’t count on was all the walking and bicycling and shoe-wearing I get to do in the summer, and the fact that I have to dress up for work now. By the time I got home last night, I was no longer mentally fit to stand trial. Black socks get hot, and they chafe.

At last, I tore off the beastly things and went at my ankles like a crazed badger. It was glorious, ecstatic, full-body pleasure; it was sex with a thousand Claires. I have no regrets.

I’m paying for it now, of course, but I have willpower again. I know I can resist. And most importantly, today I’m wearing white socks.

July 30, 2003 /

Maria emailed and told me to “have a great day downloading Japanese characters,” which makes it sound like I’m putting lots of little anime people on my work computer. I was going to clarify that, but then I was like no, let them wonder. So wonder!

July 30, 2003 /

I tried to download Japanese text support here at work just now, not so much because I read a lot of Japanese but because having the module would make it quit yelling at me whenever I try to read Megatokyo. I got this error message:

Unable to download at this time. The internet may be busy.

Come on now. That’s not even trying!

Leonardr like lightning!

July 28, 2003 /

Says Mister Crummy, regarding this last entry:

“The obvious thing that comes to my mind is ‘3001’ by Arthur C. Clarke, which is an awful book but which features, among other things, tame, semi-intelligent velociraptors who do menial tasks like gardening. This is just an incidental detail which is not important to the story, but it’s portrayed as a good deal for everyone including the no-longer-extinct dinosaurs…

Another one is David Brin’s Uplift series, in which one type of genetic engineering (making semi-intelligent species fully intelligent) is seen as a social good and a duty. Some of the characters in the books are genetically engineered chimps and dolphins.

If a piece of technology is central to a science fiction story then usually something has to go wrong or the technology has to be abused in some way, or there’s no story. I like Brin because he’s good at coming up with different drivers for conflict.”

He’s right, and that’s a common weakness of science fiction: Neat Idea Syndrome. My Creative Writing visiting professor, Nancy Zafris, told me when asked that yes, SF did have a pretty low standing within her literary circles.

“Why?” I asked. “There’s so much vibrant, progressive fiction out there.”

“I don’t know,” she said, distastefully. “It just always seems like there’s a problem, so they have to… do something with the computer, and that’s the end.”

Which you know is ridiculous, if you’ve ever read SF, but it does make a point: Neat Idea SF exists, and it’s perceived by the casual reader as a) all the same and b) boring. The casual reader is pretty much right, when the story doesn’t involve you with a character. When it gets down to it, a Neat Idea may catch your fancy, but eventually humans are only interested in reading about themselves.

So yeah, now I want to read David Brin, because what Leonard says makes him sound like exactly the right kind of character-focused writer. Unfortunately, my current bedside reading pile is staggering. I went to the library again tonight, with my newly repaired bike tires, and picked up yet more of my reserved books (Frank Miller, Diana Wynne Jones, Rob Thomas). I’m going to have to get a new box when I move on Friday just to keep my library stuff in. Is there a twelve-step program for this kind of thing?

July 28, 2003 /

It occurs to me that the one thing most of my favorite science fiction authors share is an intense dislike of science. Maybe it was different back in the hard-SF technotopia days, I don’t know, but I can’t actually remember reading a book involving a future where science makes things better. Seriously, can you think of two sci-fi stories in which genetic engineering, for example, is portrayed as anything but horrible?

July 28, 2003 /

I’m contemplating the purchase of a 27-inch television. Why? It’s not like I ever watch TV. I’ve watched maybe three hours of actual TV all summer, plus I had it on one of those music channels for an hour once. I have a small-but-select movie collection, but I don’t watch those much either.

Yet I’m probably going to get this thing. My budget is $200, and with the Wal-Mart gift certificate I got from one of my uncles at graduation, that one comes in just under the line. Plus it’s flat-screen, which I also generally don’t care about. Again, why am I doing this?

Because a big, flat screen allows you to more effectively engage in four-player Halo. That’s really the only reason.

Man, I hope Mom forgets to check this.