So I'm not really reading. I've been on Picture of Dorian Grey for about 2 weeks now, and have read only 40 pages. I don't know what's caused the shift, but I don't like it. It might be because I'm not super into the book (it's good, but it's semi-laborious to get through). I'll try to get it done soon, though, and that might cause me to forgo writing several posts on it, and instead just write one big one at the end like usual. Also, because of my other blog (which is still in the experimental phases...it might not be permanent), I'm not really writing too much on this one.
I have concluded that I shall turn this blog strictly into a Book Club. I will update my other blog regularly (hopefully daily given the nature of the project), and this one only when I finish a book (or finish a section if I ever get around to doing the multiple post thing). I will inform you all when that happens over at my other blog so that you don't have to keep checking back here to see if I've written yet.
Let me know if you like this idea.
Do we have a deal?
4.19.2008
4.16.2008
random
[Rated R Queens of the Stone Age]
I keep finding too many books that I want to read, and my Wish List is already longer than my Completed. It's turning into another Netflix fiasco. Mine and Ally's queue is close to 300 movies long. It's only grown since we started subscribing two years ago. We've never watched more movies than we've added in a given time period. The Wish List is taking a timeout and will expand once depleted some.
Hannah's great at catching balls. She loves balls. What a silly little ball-licker she is. Sometimes when you throw a ball to her, she seems to freeze up and forget what to do. She closes her eyes and ducks. After the ball bounces off of her pointy head, she'll start chasing it like she wanted it all along. What a weirdo.
If you weren't you, would you be your friend? Maybe it's just me, but I'd probably be my best friend. I'm fucking hilarious to myself. To Ally: not so much. I think she laughs AT me more than with me. At least I'm making her laugh, I'm happy with that. Some of the shit I do is pretty stupid, though, so it's possible that I'm going for the laugh-at factor. I occasionally find myself annoying. I know that it's happening, but I can't control it sometimes. It makes me wonder if your personality is inherent to you, or if you can change who you are at will. I can temporarily stop myself from continuing the annoying actions, but I always do them again at a later date.
I think that there are two kinds of people in the world: the Performers and the Audience. The Performers always need to be the center of attention. They're funny, they're boisterous. The Audience members are quieter and, though they may be just as social as the Performers, they're more on the fringes of a large group rather than at the epicenter. My best friends throughout history have all been Performers: Nick Larson has made me laugh more than anybody else in the world, Ryan Altermatt was extraordinarily extroverted, AJ Carrillo is all of the above. They all need someone to pay attention to them, to tell their jokes to, and I was always that person. As a self-proclaimed Audience, I laugh at all the appropriate times and give feedback only when necessary, effectively encouraging the Performers further. Since Audience members could possibly be classified as boring, two of them put together would be a silent, awkward disaster. Don't get me wrong, I tell jokes from time to time and get pretty amped when telling a good story, but it's not a persistent thing. All that I'm saying is that Performers need an Audience to laugh at them, and Audiences need a Performer to laugh at. They make perfect friends.
There's a plastic bag sitting in my neighbor's driveway. There's a slight breeze today; at least enough to blow a bag down the street. But this bag has been sitting in the same place for over thirty minutes. Occasionally it'll catch a wisp of wind and be lifted into the air and dance parallel to the garage door. It'll zip into the lawn and around trees and look like it's about to finally float away. But then I'll look up five minutes later, and it's sitting back on the driveway. I feel like I've seen this before...
I might take up a daily picture project. I might not. Don't get your hopes up. There are several reasons why I want to:
I keep finding too many books that I want to read, and my Wish List is already longer than my Completed. It's turning into another Netflix fiasco. Mine and Ally's queue is close to 300 movies long. It's only grown since we started subscribing two years ago. We've never watched more movies than we've added in a given time period. The Wish List is taking a timeout and will expand once depleted some.
Hannah's great at catching balls. She loves balls. What a silly little ball-licker she is. Sometimes when you throw a ball to her, she seems to freeze up and forget what to do. She closes her eyes and ducks. After the ball bounces off of her pointy head, she'll start chasing it like she wanted it all along. What a weirdo.
If you weren't you, would you be your friend? Maybe it's just me, but I'd probably be my best friend. I'm fucking hilarious to myself. To Ally: not so much. I think she laughs AT me more than with me. At least I'm making her laugh, I'm happy with that. Some of the shit I do is pretty stupid, though, so it's possible that I'm going for the laugh-at factor. I occasionally find myself annoying. I know that it's happening, but I can't control it sometimes. It makes me wonder if your personality is inherent to you, or if you can change who you are at will. I can temporarily stop myself from continuing the annoying actions, but I always do them again at a later date.
I think that there are two kinds of people in the world: the Performers and the Audience. The Performers always need to be the center of attention. They're funny, they're boisterous. The Audience members are quieter and, though they may be just as social as the Performers, they're more on the fringes of a large group rather than at the epicenter. My best friends throughout history have all been Performers: Nick Larson has made me laugh more than anybody else in the world, Ryan Altermatt was extraordinarily extroverted, AJ Carrillo is all of the above. They all need someone to pay attention to them, to tell their jokes to, and I was always that person. As a self-proclaimed Audience, I laugh at all the appropriate times and give feedback only when necessary, effectively encouraging the Performers further. Since Audience members could possibly be classified as boring, two of them put together would be a silent, awkward disaster. Don't get me wrong, I tell jokes from time to time and get pretty amped when telling a good story, but it's not a persistent thing. All that I'm saying is that Performers need an Audience to laugh at them, and Audiences need a Performer to laugh at. They make perfect friends.
There's a plastic bag sitting in my neighbor's driveway. There's a slight breeze today; at least enough to blow a bag down the street. But this bag has been sitting in the same place for over thirty minutes. Occasionally it'll catch a wisp of wind and be lifted into the air and dance parallel to the garage door. It'll zip into the lawn and around trees and look like it's about to finally float away. But then I'll look up five minutes later, and it's sitting back on the driveway. I feel like I've seen this before...
I might take up a daily picture project. I might not. Don't get your hopes up. There are several reasons why I want to:
- I want to post on here more often. This would give me a reason to do so.
- I want to get excited about the camera that I'm buying in the next month or two.
- I happened into a photo-op the other day that would have perfectly described my feelings and summed that day's events. Mark told me at the last Beer Club that no one should ever be caught without a camera handy (even though he was without camera-in-hand that night), and I wish I had heeded his advice on that day. I took mental pictures of the event, but due to my lack of artistry, I can't really convey them to you.
4.13.2008
the metric system and other such ponderings
[The Crane Wife The Decemberists]
I've recently become obsessed with haikus thanks to Lindsey's super-creative blog. Here are some that I wrote in a boring class to keep from sleeping.
My eyes are heavy
My head is feeling the same
My god I'm dying
.......
Thinking eludes me
My dreams have taken over
Tick tock, so goes time
.......
Meters, kilograms
The simplicity of them
Inches are stupid
.......
Your head hair is red
Do the curtains match the drapes?
I'm just curious...
.......
Notice I started out only being able to think about how tired I was, and then I slowly started waking up since you have to be alert to count the syllables of a million different synonyms until you find one that fits. I think that in my semiconscious sleep deprived delirium, I became slightly ornery.
I've recently become obsessed with haikus thanks to Lindsey's super-creative blog. Here are some that I wrote in a boring class to keep from sleeping.
My eyes are heavy
My head is feeling the same
My god I'm dying
.......
Thinking eludes me
My dreams have taken over
Tick tock, so goes time
.......
Meters, kilograms
The simplicity of them
Inches are stupid
.......
Your head hair is red
Do the curtains match the drapes?
I'm just curious...
.......
Notice I started out only being able to think about how tired I was, and then I slowly started waking up since you have to be alert to count the syllables of a million different synonyms until you find one that fits. I think that in my semiconscious sleep deprived delirium, I became slightly ornery.
finding the unknown
[The Gulag Orkestar Beirut]
I have a lot to say, but no way of saying it. I'm done being tired. I need to conquer something to make me feel better. NCAR worked for about a week, but I'm back to square one. Maybe I should make a resume and send it out and get a job so that I have one less thing to bitch about. I bitch about it a lot, too. How much do you want to bet that when I finally get that job, I'll bitch about it just as much.
Or maybe I just need Ally to come back home to make me feel better.
I feel like I'm in a little blog community that has arisen due to my association with Wine Club. I don't really read anybody's blog outside of that community, and likewise I'm pretty sure my only readers are those same friends (thanks Google Analytics). I wonder if it's just because I know these people that I'm so invested in what they have to say everyday.
I want to eavesdrop on someone else's community; become just as engrossed in their posts as I am with my friends'. There have got to be some good blogs out there somewhere (unlike my own. Let's be honest) that have stayed extremely hidden from the world (like my own. I only get ~10 hits/day.). I think that at one of the early Wine Club meetings (back when Mark actually hosted them rather than defaulting all meetings to Mr. Vice President's place), we talked about voyeurism...in regards to what, I don't remember (but many of them are photographers, so there's already a suggestion of it in their personalities). I feel like this could be a really satisfying form of it. We, the mighty bloggers of the internets, chose to make our thoughts and opinions public. There's a considerable amount of filtering we do to pick and chose which of these actually make it into our posts. So it's not like I'd be doing anything that these people aren't already soliciting and putting a lot of thought into just so that others will be entertained, or whatever other reason. In fact, I'd probably be doing exactly what they're hoping would happen. How great would it be to be a "blog of note"? Well, on second thought, that'd suck. Whenever you look at the vast amount of comments those blogs have gotten since they became "notable", many of them are just criticizing the blog. "Boring" is a popular comment. I'd rather remain obscure than be heavily criticized by holier-than-thou strangers.
I have a lot to say, but no way of saying it. I'm done being tired. I need to conquer something to make me feel better. NCAR worked for about a week, but I'm back to square one. Maybe I should make a resume and send it out and get a job so that I have one less thing to bitch about. I bitch about it a lot, too. How much do you want to bet that when I finally get that job, I'll bitch about it just as much.
Or maybe I just need Ally to come back home to make me feel better.
I feel like I'm in a little blog community that has arisen due to my association with Wine Club. I don't really read anybody's blog outside of that community, and likewise I'm pretty sure my only readers are those same friends (thanks Google Analytics). I wonder if it's just because I know these people that I'm so invested in what they have to say everyday.
I want to eavesdrop on someone else's community; become just as engrossed in their posts as I am with my friends'. There have got to be some good blogs out there somewhere (unlike my own. Let's be honest) that have stayed extremely hidden from the world (like my own. I only get ~10 hits/day.). I think that at one of the early Wine Club meetings (back when Mark actually hosted them rather than defaulting all meetings to Mr. Vice President's place), we talked about voyeurism...in regards to what, I don't remember (but many of them are photographers, so there's already a suggestion of it in their personalities). I feel like this could be a really satisfying form of it. We, the mighty bloggers of the internets, chose to make our thoughts and opinions public. There's a considerable amount of filtering we do to pick and chose which of these actually make it into our posts. So it's not like I'd be doing anything that these people aren't already soliciting and putting a lot of thought into just so that others will be entertained, or whatever other reason. In fact, I'd probably be doing exactly what they're hoping would happen. How great would it be to be a "blog of note"? Well, on second thought, that'd suck. Whenever you look at the vast amount of comments those blogs have gotten since they became "notable", many of them are just criticizing the blog. "Boring" is a popular comment. I'd rather remain obscure than be heavily criticized by holier-than-thou strangers.
4.11.2008
eight nine ten things i know, have learned, or observed
My thoughts from tonight's Beer Club while I'm still mildly (ever so mildly) intoxicated:
- I love Ally. Sometime I hear stories from my friends about scandalous, fun, short-term flings they have, and wonder if I'm missing out. Sometimes I think that a lifestyle like that is very appealing. But then I realize that those flings frequently last for no more than a week, and people get pretty depressed in between. I'm happy all the time. Ally and I both grind our teeth at night, and that's something other people envy (I know that sounds weird, but go with it). Why would I ever want to give something like that up?
- I don' know the people I hang out with outside of the action space that I know them in. I've never seen some of the people at Weer Club outside of that setting, and I feel like that's really limiting how well I can possibly know them. What kind of people does Annabelle hang out with? Who (besides her cousin) is her best friend? What kind of art does she do? Mark talked about one of her recent pieces and how dark it is. This got me to thinking that maybe she has some sort of dark side to her beneath the little I-want-to-pinch-your-cheeks facade she has at Wine Club meetings. Between the unassumingly large amount of piercings and the tattoos, she's not exactly giving me much reason to think that I really know all there is to know about her...That goes for the rest of the Wine Club members. I think that it's time that I make friends with them in the real world, not just within the rigidly structured mass-social confines of the club.
- I'm usually #6 in the raffle. Tonight I was #13. #6 (Gordon) won. Fuck that.
- Mark suggested a possible solution to my "Sightings" section. I think that in the near future I'm going to start a blog where any of you can join as an author and post your Sightings. Comments will be open, authoring will be open, and the books you "sight" don't even need to be previous Book Club books. In fact, if you'd like, it can digress into another whole book community type thing where we all discuss any book we'd like to, recommend new books, etc. This might just be a pipe dream of someone that thinks that he has more readers willing to contribute than he really has, but so what? I'm content with talking to myself, so if I'm the only one that writes anything, my feelings won't be hurt. Assholes.
- I'm uncomfortable with weird unsolicited public awkward touching, and I'm not even the one being touched.
- I want to be a rock god like Mark.
- Apparently being an artists means that you can easily coax girls into getting naked, crawling into your bed, and posing for pictures without them thinking that you're a creeper.
- I like tobacco in certain social situations. If I'm very comfortable with the people around me and we're all chillaxing with beer-in-hand, then I really want to break out the pipe. Tobacco Club very well may be a real possibility in the near future.
- I have an oral fixation and an addictive personality. Thank god (if he actually existed, which he doesn't) for Tea Tree Chewing Sticks. Unfortunately I'm stuck with some bullshit alternate brand for the time being.
- The world is small. Stacey or Stephanie or fucking Stedman (whatever her name is) is in my Primate Behavior class. I've had classes with Gordon, Mark, and Sondra before. Lindsey just got a job where I work (and I had no previous knowledge of her applying beforehand).
4.09.2008
the length of everything
[Abbey Road The Beatles]
I just deposited a lot of ca$h-money ("this is your show...Yo Momma!") into an IRA today. I now have a retirement fund but nothing to retire from. Fuck a duck.
I've decided that I eventually need to read some non-fiction for Book Club. Last week in my Primate Behavior class we had a lecture about homosexuality in human and nonhuman primates. Our teacher started talking about a book called Biological Exuberance by Bruce Bagemihl who did a study that showed that homosexuality is found pretty universally across the animal kingdom. The lecture was probably the most interesting one we've had all semester, so I decided to look into getting the book.
It's 768 pages long.
I'm not typically opposed to long books. In fact, I usually embrace them because it feels so good when you finish one. But I figure that for my first foray into non-fiction, I should maybe take it a little easy. I'm guessing that the only way a science book on a fairly narrow subject could be that long is if it goes into a lot of depth about various theories and other specifics. I'll read it someday, but not yet.
Ally's father got me Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything for my birthday (thanks Brian). Even though that's a pretty formidable 478 pages, it covers, well, nearly everything. I guess that means that "a lot of depth" isn't quite implied; in fact, the exact opposite is.
By the way, I'm thinking about somehow doing a "Sightings" section in which I talk about places in real life that I've seen or heard references to the books I've read for Book Club. For example, the other day in that same Primates class, we were talking about infanticide (the killing of infants), and someone brought up The Giver. I thought it was such a great reference that I really wanted to write about it, but didn't have a good place to do so. I guess I could just make a new post for each or one giant post that I keep updating with every sighting, but it'd also be fun if you all could also write about any sightings you've had. I don't know. Any suggestions?
I just deposited a lot of ca$h-money ("this is your show...Yo Momma!") into an IRA today. I now have a retirement fund but nothing to retire from. Fuck a duck.
I've decided that I eventually need to read some non-fiction for Book Club. Last week in my Primate Behavior class we had a lecture about homosexuality in human and nonhuman primates. Our teacher started talking about a book called Biological Exuberance by Bruce Bagemihl who did a study that showed that homosexuality is found pretty universally across the animal kingdom. The lecture was probably the most interesting one we've had all semester, so I decided to look into getting the book.
It's 768 pages long.
I'm not typically opposed to long books. In fact, I usually embrace them because it feels so good when you finish one. But I figure that for my first foray into non-fiction, I should maybe take it a little easy. I'm guessing that the only way a science book on a fairly narrow subject could be that long is if it goes into a lot of depth about various theories and other specifics. I'll read it someday, but not yet.
Ally's father got me Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything for my birthday (thanks Brian). Even though that's a pretty formidable 478 pages, it covers, well, nearly everything. I guess that means that "a lot of depth" isn't quite implied; in fact, the exact opposite is.
By the way, I'm thinking about somehow doing a "Sightings" section in which I talk about places in real life that I've seen or heard references to the books I've read for Book Club. For example, the other day in that same Primates class, we were talking about infanticide (the killing of infants), and someone brought up The Giver. I thought it was such a great reference that I really wanted to write about it, but didn't have a good place to do so. I guess I could just make a new post for each or one giant post that I keep updating with every sighting, but it'd also be fun if you all could also write about any sightings you've had. I don't know. Any suggestions?
4.07.2008
the kindness of a child
[And Their Refinement of the Decline Stars of the Lid]
Warning: review is riddled with spoilers.
Book: Ender's Game Orson Scott Card 10/10
Amazing. Definitely deserves a perfect rating because it's become one of my favorite books. There were about 150 pages there in the middle that I just couldn't stop reading. When Ender started to pwn other armies in Battle School, he became the biggest badass I've ever encountered. I bet he could beat Harry in a game of Quidditch. I'm as big a Gryffindor fan as they come, but there's no denying Ender's brilliance.
The book is fantastic for so many reasons. It starts out with an eight page introduction written by Card six years after Ender's Game was first published. In the first paragraph he explains that this version, the "Author's Definitive Edition", has some minor changes to correct errors he made in the first printing, but nothing major has changed. But since the publishing company decided to make a big deal out of it and started printing hardcover copies, he says "there ought to be something new in it..." so they made him write an introduction. He says that the novel really needs no introduction, and it stands well enough on its own; he basically recommends that we just skip the intro altogether. You don't need to tell me twice. Moving on...
One of the biggest pet-peeves I have with the writing of some literature and movies is when a character completely changes something about themselves, and there's no discernible progression that leads them to this change. For example, in The Godfather the movie, Michael Corleone is disregarding his family's lifestyle as barbaric and horrible in one scene, and in the next he's taken over his father's position as the head of the family. In the book, you see that he struggles with the role that he's forced into long before he embraces it. I didn't like the movie, if you couldn't tell.
In Ender's Game, Ender takes such a believable path towards his greatness. Sure he was hand selected in the beginning as having one of the most brilliant minds of any child, but it still took him a long time to figure it out for himself. All along you could see hints of what he was capable of, but not until he led his own army in Battle School did his full brilliance truly blossom. In the first two chapters alone, we were quickly exposed to just how precise and calculative his fighting skills can be when he beat (subsequently we learn that he actually killed) Stilson, and also how passive and thoughtful he can be when others, such as his brother Peter, are attacking him. He was always acutely aware of the situations he was in, and was always able to act in such a way that would benefit him the most. Even when Graff and all the other adults were manipulating and isolating him, he always knew that they were doing that. It was always a conscious decision to go along with it.
This brings me to one of the biggest questions I had throughout the whole book: did they succeed in breaking him down into a killer, or did he retain his empathy?
The ending clearly showed us that he truly remained empathetic, but there were times throughout that I wasn't quite sure if that would be the case. He didn't mind breaking off his relationships with other soldiers and those under his command as long as it was for the good of his army. Nothing mattered to him in life other than winning the games, which were just mock wars, an analog of killing. This intense focus on winning was a byproduct of Graff's manipulation, and clearly it was working. That's why I thought that Ender might very well become the cold blooded killer they needed. But ultimately, they knew that his inherent kindness would have kept him from winning the bugger war. He remained naive of what the Command School games actually were, and this allowed him to throw caution to the wind and beat the enemy at all costs. If he had know that he was sending human soldiers to their deaths, and (I think more importantly) was killing buggers, he might not have fought the way he did (if at all) and risked losing the war.
I just flashed myself with my bike light and now I can barely see the computer screen. Just so you know.
But as I think back, all throughout the book, whenever he did something to harm someone else, he always felt bad about it. Even when he would think about arguing with Bonzo (his first army commander that was horrible to Ender and therefore undeserving of his benevolence) in front of other soldiers, he would stop himself because he knew that it would make Bonzo look bad. After he killed Bonzo, both he and Stilson were in Ender's nightmares for years to come. Ender never wanted to harm either of them, but they honestly brought it upon themselves. This shows that even though he did have a killer's instinct (that little piece of Peter was alive in his), he knew better than to use it when it was not absolutely necessary. Near the end, Alai surprises Ender and Ender grabbed him with the intent of killing him:
There seemed to be an obvious note of sarcasm in his voice (not that I could hear it, but you know what I'm saying) that suggested that Ender understood at that moment that any killing he did was completely out of his control.
After learning all of this, it comes as little surprise that Ender became reclusive when he learned about having killed billions of buggers. When Valentine asked him to move to the buggers' home world to start new colonies, he only agreed to so that he could research the creatures he had wiped out. He came to realize that they were not the savage and dangerous beasts that humans had portrayed them as (out of ignorance, really. They had no reason to think otherwise.). He eventually became determined to help revive the bugger species, and dubbed himelf Speaker of the Dead. I suppose I'll leave any discussion of that for if (when) I read the second book in the Ender saga (Speaker of the Dead).
It's really hard to believe that any of this was accomplished by a pre-teen, but I think that Orson Scott Card's dedication really clarifies everything:
Warning: review is riddled with spoilers.
Book: Ender's Game Orson Scott Card 10/10
Amazing. Definitely deserves a perfect rating because it's become one of my favorite books. There were about 150 pages there in the middle that I just couldn't stop reading. When Ender started to pwn other armies in Battle School, he became the biggest badass I've ever encountered. I bet he could beat Harry in a game of Quidditch. I'm as big a Gryffindor fan as they come, but there's no denying Ender's brilliance.The book is fantastic for so many reasons. It starts out with an eight page introduction written by Card six years after Ender's Game was first published. In the first paragraph he explains that this version, the "Author's Definitive Edition", has some minor changes to correct errors he made in the first printing, but nothing major has changed. But since the publishing company decided to make a big deal out of it and started printing hardcover copies, he says "there ought to be something new in it..." so they made him write an introduction. He says that the novel really needs no introduction, and it stands well enough on its own; he basically recommends that we just skip the intro altogether. You don't need to tell me twice. Moving on...
One of the biggest pet-peeves I have with the writing of some literature and movies is when a character completely changes something about themselves, and there's no discernible progression that leads them to this change. For example, in The Godfather the movie, Michael Corleone is disregarding his family's lifestyle as barbaric and horrible in one scene, and in the next he's taken over his father's position as the head of the family. In the book, you see that he struggles with the role that he's forced into long before he embraces it. I didn't like the movie, if you couldn't tell.
In Ender's Game, Ender takes such a believable path towards his greatness. Sure he was hand selected in the beginning as having one of the most brilliant minds of any child, but it still took him a long time to figure it out for himself. All along you could see hints of what he was capable of, but not until he led his own army in Battle School did his full brilliance truly blossom. In the first two chapters alone, we were quickly exposed to just how precise and calculative his fighting skills can be when he beat (subsequently we learn that he actually killed) Stilson, and also how passive and thoughtful he can be when others, such as his brother Peter, are attacking him. He was always acutely aware of the situations he was in, and was always able to act in such a way that would benefit him the most. Even when Graff and all the other adults were manipulating and isolating him, he always knew that they were doing that. It was always a conscious decision to go along with it.
I'll become exactly the tool you want me to be, said Ender silently, but at least I won't be fooled into it. I'll do it because I choose to, not because you tricked me, you sly bastard. pg 252
This brings me to one of the biggest questions I had throughout the whole book: did they succeed in breaking him down into a killer, or did he retain his empathy?
The ending clearly showed us that he truly remained empathetic, but there were times throughout that I wasn't quite sure if that would be the case. He didn't mind breaking off his relationships with other soldiers and those under his command as long as it was for the good of his army. Nothing mattered to him in life other than winning the games, which were just mock wars, an analog of killing. This intense focus on winning was a byproduct of Graff's manipulation, and clearly it was working. That's why I thought that Ender might very well become the cold blooded killer they needed. But ultimately, they knew that his inherent kindness would have kept him from winning the bugger war. He remained naive of what the Command School games actually were, and this allowed him to throw caution to the wind and beat the enemy at all costs. If he had know that he was sending human soldiers to their deaths, and (I think more importantly) was killing buggers, he might not have fought the way he did (if at all) and risked losing the war.
I just flashed myself with my bike light and now I can barely see the computer screen. Just so you know.
But as I think back, all throughout the book, whenever he did something to harm someone else, he always felt bad about it. Even when he would think about arguing with Bonzo (his first army commander that was horrible to Ender and therefore undeserving of his benevolence) in front of other soldiers, he would stop himself because he knew that it would make Bonzo look bad. After he killed Bonzo, both he and Stilson were in Ender's nightmares for years to come. Ender never wanted to harm either of them, but they honestly brought it upon themselves. This shows that even though he did have a killer's instinct (that little piece of Peter was alive in his), he knew better than to use it when it was not absolutely necessary. Near the end, Alai surprises Ender and Ender grabbed him with the intent of killing him:
"...I thought you were about to kill me, and I decided to kill you first. I guess I'm just a killer to the core. But I'd rather be alive than dead."
The laughed and agreed with him. Then Ender began to cry... pg 303
There seemed to be an obvious note of sarcasm in his voice (not that I could hear it, but you know what I'm saying) that suggested that Ender understood at that moment that any killing he did was completely out of his control.
After learning all of this, it comes as little surprise that Ender became reclusive when he learned about having killed billions of buggers. When Valentine asked him to move to the buggers' home world to start new colonies, he only agreed to so that he could research the creatures he had wiped out. He came to realize that they were not the savage and dangerous beasts that humans had portrayed them as (out of ignorance, really. They had no reason to think otherwise.). He eventually became determined to help revive the bugger species, and dubbed himelf Speaker of the Dead. I suppose I'll leave any discussion of that for if (when) I read the second book in the Ender saga (Speaker of the Dead).
It's really hard to believe that any of this was accomplished by a pre-teen, but I think that Orson Scott Card's dedication really clarifies everything:
For Geoffrey,
who makes me remember
how young and how old
children can be
4.06.2008
i made it
[Deloused in the Comatorium The Mars Volta]
I have the hiccups. What a bitch of a bodily function. At least burps and farts are fun. I can even deal with sneezes as long as I'm not eating. But hiccups are never welcome.
Another birthday has come and gone. Don't even talk to me about it because it's likely to get you a punch in the mouth. Well, actually since I'm a pretty passive guy, you'll actually just get a roll-of-the-eyes and a shrug-of-the-shoulders. But my birthday day was fun thanks to Beer Club and family time. My parents didn't have my bdad written on their calendar (which has EVERYTHING written on it), and when I brought it up, my dad said that he was in charge of the cake (which was excellent, thanks Dad) and that my mom was in charge of the calendar. Way to not take the blame.
Lately I've been feeling pretty slobby and worthless. I haven't been climbing at all since summer, I *puff* *wheeze* whenever I'm riding my bike up to school (a whole mile away. lame), and my gut is...well it's a gut, enough said. It's finally kind of hit boiling point this last week. You know when you can actually see a jet breaking the sound barrier and that cone of condensation gathers around the shock wave?
That's what happened to me last night. I finally got fed up with my inactivity levels. Thanks to the motivation from Sean Door and Run Fatboy Run, I've decided that I need to get out there and get into shape.
This morning I got up early and decided to start running. Then I realized that I hate running. I've never been able to find shoes that don't hurt my feet, I get winded within the first 3 minutes and want to quit, and my knees and hips can't take the high impact (I'm such an old man. damn birthdays). So instead of running, I decided to take a bike ride. It's low impact, your legs will hurt no matter what shoes you wear, and it's practical. Since I ride to school so frequently, it'd be nice if it were an easy ride, not some marathon from hell, especially when it's windy.
So I took a nice, long bike ride from my neighborhood (east of campus) to South Boulder where I grew up. The nice part of doing this is it's all uphill on the way there, so when I get tired, I can just turn around and coast all the way home. I think that this might be an appropriate time to tell you that I've always wanted to ride up to NCAR. I think that Nick and I tried once in high school but gave up half way up. Don't get me wrong, it's not the most strenuous of bike rides, but it's about a mile and a half of pretty highly inclined road which is killer for a non-biker like myself. Since I was already at the base of the climb, I decided to go for it. After the initial quarter mile, I mentally checked out and decided that it was stupid to even try. My speedometer said that I had already gone ~7.5 miles so far, so to push myself I made a goal to get to at least 8 miles before I gave up. I pushed and I pushed and my heart was beating so fast that it almost felt like it had stopped and my legs were on fire. That was the hardest .5 miles I've ever endured on a bike. But a funny thing happened when I got the end of it. My legs had numbed and no longer hurt, and I gained control of my breathing. I began to think that this might actually be possible even though the longest and steepest incline was yet to come. As I kept riding, NCAR began to peek its ugly head (actually it's really pretty thanks to I.M. Pei [see third one down]) over the hillside, and it only motivated me more. The building looks so small and distant from East Boulder, so when it looks huge as you're coming upon it, you really get reminded of the accomplishment you've made.
For the last 200 yards, I think I started to get a "runner's high" sort of feeling. I don't know if it was adrenaline or serotonin or what, but I got a surge of energy and was able to shift into higher gears and sprint to the finish line. After a quick victory lap around the parking lot, I began my descent. The gravely road really didn't look too stable for sustained high speeds, and god knows my near-decade-old bike can't handle much more than me just sitting on it. If I went off a curb, I'm sure it'd turn to dust. So I decided to coast the whole way down, take it easy, relax after my hard ride up. After the first 100 yards of coasting, I looked down at my speedometer only to see that I was already going ≥ 30 mi hr-1. I though, you only live once so I might as well go with this. I pulled my arms in tight and lowered my helmeted head, and began to fly. I doubt that I've ever gone more than 30 on a bike before in my life, so staying above that for over a mile felt pretty awesome. I could barely see because the wind was making my eyes water so badly that tears were streaking backward across my face. My mouth stayed wide open in a smile for the whole thing.
Speedometer stats:
The quick version of the Sean Door Story:
He's been a smoker for about 13 years (he's now 26 years old), he quit in January, has since started to run, and has entered into at least one 5k race so far. I occasionally see him running past our house (he lives more than a mile away) and think to myself "If Sean Door can get into shape, I can get into shape." Thanks Sean.
I have the hiccups. What a bitch of a bodily function. At least burps and farts are fun. I can even deal with sneezes as long as I'm not eating. But hiccups are never welcome.
Another birthday has come and gone. Don't even talk to me about it because it's likely to get you a punch in the mouth. Well, actually since I'm a pretty passive guy, you'll actually just get a roll-of-the-eyes and a shrug-of-the-shoulders. But my birthday day was fun thanks to Beer Club and family time. My parents didn't have my bdad written on their calendar (which has EVERYTHING written on it), and when I brought it up, my dad said that he was in charge of the cake (which was excellent, thanks Dad) and that my mom was in charge of the calendar. Way to not take the blame.
Lately I've been feeling pretty slobby and worthless. I haven't been climbing at all since summer, I *puff* *wheeze* whenever I'm riding my bike up to school (a whole mile away. lame), and my gut is...well it's a gut, enough said. It's finally kind of hit boiling point this last week. You know when you can actually see a jet breaking the sound barrier and that cone of condensation gathers around the shock wave?
That's what happened to me last night. I finally got fed up with my inactivity levels. Thanks to the motivation from Sean Door and Run Fatboy Run, I've decided that I need to get out there and get into shape.
This morning I got up early and decided to start running. Then I realized that I hate running. I've never been able to find shoes that don't hurt my feet, I get winded within the first 3 minutes and want to quit, and my knees and hips can't take the high impact (I'm such an old man. damn birthdays). So instead of running, I decided to take a bike ride. It's low impact, your legs will hurt no matter what shoes you wear, and it's practical. Since I ride to school so frequently, it'd be nice if it were an easy ride, not some marathon from hell, especially when it's windy.
So I took a nice, long bike ride from my neighborhood (east of campus) to South Boulder where I grew up. The nice part of doing this is it's all uphill on the way there, so when I get tired, I can just turn around and coast all the way home. I think that this might be an appropriate time to tell you that I've always wanted to ride up to NCAR. I think that Nick and I tried once in high school but gave up half way up. Don't get me wrong, it's not the most strenuous of bike rides, but it's about a mile and a half of pretty highly inclined road which is killer for a non-biker like myself. Since I was already at the base of the climb, I decided to go for it. After the initial quarter mile, I mentally checked out and decided that it was stupid to even try. My speedometer said that I had already gone ~7.5 miles so far, so to push myself I made a goal to get to at least 8 miles before I gave up. I pushed and I pushed and my heart was beating so fast that it almost felt like it had stopped and my legs were on fire. That was the hardest .5 miles I've ever endured on a bike. But a funny thing happened when I got the end of it. My legs had numbed and no longer hurt, and I gained control of my breathing. I began to think that this might actually be possible even though the longest and steepest incline was yet to come. As I kept riding, NCAR began to peek its ugly head (actually it's really pretty thanks to I.M. Pei [see third one down]) over the hillside, and it only motivated me more. The building looks so small and distant from East Boulder, so when it looks huge as you're coming upon it, you really get reminded of the accomplishment you've made.
For the last 200 yards, I think I started to get a "runner's high" sort of feeling. I don't know if it was adrenaline or serotonin or what, but I got a surge of energy and was able to shift into higher gears and sprint to the finish line. After a quick victory lap around the parking lot, I began my descent. The gravely road really didn't look too stable for sustained high speeds, and god knows my near-decade-old bike can't handle much more than me just sitting on it. If I went off a curb, I'm sure it'd turn to dust. So I decided to coast the whole way down, take it easy, relax after my hard ride up. After the first 100 yards of coasting, I looked down at my speedometer only to see that I was already going ≥ 30 mi hr-1. I though, you only live once so I might as well go with this. I pulled my arms in tight and lowered my helmeted head, and began to fly. I doubt that I've ever gone more than 30 on a bike before in my life, so staying above that for over a mile felt pretty awesome. I could barely see because the wind was making my eyes water so badly that tears were streaking backward across my face. My mouth stayed wide open in a smile for the whole thing.
Speedometer stats:
- distance: 13.352 mi
- time: 1:11:58 hr
- max speed: 35.7 mi hr-1
- average speed: 11.2 mi hr-1
The quick version of the Sean Door Story:
He's been a smoker for about 13 years (he's now 26 years old), he quit in January, has since started to run, and has entered into at least one 5k race so far. I occasionally see him running past our house (he lives more than a mile away) and think to myself "If Sean Door can get into shape, I can get into shape." Thanks Sean.
4.04.2008
4 minutes
[Relationship of Command At The Drive-In]
Check out right around :45 for a definitive pair of fuck-me boots.
That's right, I put a Madonna video in my blog. What now? And Jesus, those peel-away views of the people making out are fucking creepy.
I've decided that it's almost time to make a blog dedicated to fuck-me boots sitings.
Check out right around :45 for a definitive pair of fuck-me boots.
That's right, I put a Madonna video in my blog. What now? And Jesus, those peel-away views of the people making out are fucking creepy.
I've decided that it's almost time to make a blog dedicated to fuck-me boots sitings.
4.03.2008
warmth and gamma rays
Okay, here's the long awaited (like 12 hours long) story about gamma rays. Dr. Glenn, who I've been talking a lot about lately, recently discovered that he has a stress fracture in right femur. That's a tough bone to break, and he accomplished it. He's a pretty hardcore runner/biker/triathlete, so that might explain things.
SIDE NOTE:
He's going to Hawai'i this weekend to do some research at (I think) the Keck Observatory, and the airline company that's supposed to bring him from Maui (where United is flying him into) to the big island went out of business last week. He now has no way of getting from one island to the other now, and he said that if they were just a fraction closer, he'd probably just swim it. I don't think he was kidding.
I guess he's had this fracture for about 18 months and never went to get it fixed. He said that the problem with going to the doctor is that when they tell you something's wrong, you have to stop doing the thing that caused it in the first place (eg running). He didn't want to stop running, so he avoided going to the doctor. So he finally went in to get the fracture imaged, and they didn't simply take X-rays. What they did is injected a calcium phosphate mixed with Technetium into his leg. When a bone is broken and trying to repair itself, your whole body gathers as much calcium phosphate as it can and directs it towards the break (what smart bodies we have). The Technetium is a radioactive element with a half-life of merely 6.01 hours and it emits gamma rays. The doctors wait about a half an hour to let the calcium phosphate and Technetium mix concentrate at the break site, and then they scan the area for gamma rays to see exactly where the fracture is. Neato. Science is dope.
Well, since Glenn is going to the airport (Hawai'i, remember?) only two days after having gotten Technetium injected into him, he's still going to be emitting small amounts of gamma rays. Apparently, gamma rays are something that airport security looks for when scanning for dirty bomb, so to them, it'll look like there's an explosive strapped to his leg.
He had to get an official form signed by his doctor explaining that he's not a terrorist.
.
...
.....
...
.
Alright, I know I just stole that little triangular transition thing from Mark (check out the link for example), but it's too good not to use.
Today is a very early-springy day. It's chilly, but not cold, the sun is coming and going, and there are ominously dark clouds devouring the flatirons. It's supposed to snow tonight (birthday barhopping be damned), and some splats of moisture flecked my glasses during my bike ride from Hale to my current location in Duane. It's really interesting to see how different people react to this kind of weather. There are some that are wearing there little jogging shorts and tshirt, obviously enjoying the fleeting rays of sunshine. Then there are the people that are preparing for the worst and have bundled in parkas and wrapped heavy wool scarves around their necks.
It's really funny seeing these two people walk side-by-side.
This happened all the time in Australia, too. Ally and I lived there a few years ago from February to July, so we got to see it go from one solstice to the next. The coldest we saw it (in Sydney. Hobart was a different story) get was a mild 60°F, and a thin track jacket or the like would suffice to keep you warm most of the time. But as soon as the sun went behind clouds, those Aussies wouldn't hesitate to break out their heavy trench coats and scarves (they love scarves. Actually, I love scarves, too, but I can't pull off the look. I just enjoy from afar.).
SIDE NOTE:
The guy next to me (I'm in the Duane computer lab) just sneezed and I said "bless you" (loud enough that he HAD to have heard it), and he didn't respond in any way. I guess I'm that creepy guy that talks to strangers that actually just want to be left alone.
We lived about a mile from campus (or as they would call it, the Uni), and most of the walk was a pretty treacherous hill (especially if you try to roll a full shopping cart down it, but that's a different story for another time). Me, being the sweaty fatboy asthmatic I am, would have trouble walking up that hill in anything less than shorts and a tshirt. I would get to class huffing and puffing (me on my inhaler: *wheeze* *puff* *suck*), my fivehead glistening with sweat, and all the locals would be shivering. All I needed was a Hawaiian shirt and a camera wrapped around my neck and I'd have really looked like a tourist.
When I get home, I'll post some Oz pictures so you know what I'm talking about.
UPDATE:
I didn't take any pictures of the hill, nor any of locals bundled up. I wish I could go back in time and take pictures of some of the things I miss the most but never documented. At the time, I didn't think I'd be looking back on my daily walk up that hill as a pleasant memory.
SIDE NOTE:
He's going to Hawai'i this weekend to do some research at (I think) the Keck Observatory, and the airline company that's supposed to bring him from Maui (where United is flying him into) to the big island went out of business last week. He now has no way of getting from one island to the other now, and he said that if they were just a fraction closer, he'd probably just swim it. I don't think he was kidding.
I guess he's had this fracture for about 18 months and never went to get it fixed. He said that the problem with going to the doctor is that when they tell you something's wrong, you have to stop doing the thing that caused it in the first place (eg running). He didn't want to stop running, so he avoided going to the doctor. So he finally went in to get the fracture imaged, and they didn't simply take X-rays. What they did is injected a calcium phosphate mixed with Technetium into his leg. When a bone is broken and trying to repair itself, your whole body gathers as much calcium phosphate as it can and directs it towards the break (what smart bodies we have). The Technetium is a radioactive element with a half-life of merely 6.01 hours and it emits gamma rays. The doctors wait about a half an hour to let the calcium phosphate and Technetium mix concentrate at the break site, and then they scan the area for gamma rays to see exactly where the fracture is. Neato. Science is dope.
Well, since Glenn is going to the airport (Hawai'i, remember?) only two days after having gotten Technetium injected into him, he's still going to be emitting small amounts of gamma rays. Apparently, gamma rays are something that airport security looks for when scanning for dirty bomb, so to them, it'll look like there's an explosive strapped to his leg.
He had to get an official form signed by his doctor explaining that he's not a terrorist.
.
...
.....
...
.
Alright, I know I just stole that little triangular transition thing from Mark (check out the link for example), but it's too good not to use.
Today is a very early-springy day. It's chilly, but not cold, the sun is coming and going, and there are ominously dark clouds devouring the flatirons. It's supposed to snow tonight (birthday barhopping be damned), and some splats of moisture flecked my glasses during my bike ride from Hale to my current location in Duane. It's really interesting to see how different people react to this kind of weather. There are some that are wearing there little jogging shorts and tshirt, obviously enjoying the fleeting rays of sunshine. Then there are the people that are preparing for the worst and have bundled in parkas and wrapped heavy wool scarves around their necks.
It's really funny seeing these two people walk side-by-side.
This happened all the time in Australia, too. Ally and I lived there a few years ago from February to July, so we got to see it go from one solstice to the next. The coldest we saw it (in Sydney. Hobart was a different story) get was a mild 60°F, and a thin track jacket or the like would suffice to keep you warm most of the time. But as soon as the sun went behind clouds, those Aussies wouldn't hesitate to break out their heavy trench coats and scarves (they love scarves. Actually, I love scarves, too, but I can't pull off the look. I just enjoy from afar.).
SIDE NOTE:
The guy next to me (I'm in the Duane computer lab) just sneezed and I said "bless you" (loud enough that he HAD to have heard it), and he didn't respond in any way. I guess I'm that creepy guy that talks to strangers that actually just want to be left alone.
We lived about a mile from campus (or as they would call it, the Uni), and most of the walk was a pretty treacherous hill (especially if you try to roll a full shopping cart down it, but that's a different story for another time). Me, being the sweaty fatboy asthmatic I am, would have trouble walking up that hill in anything less than shorts and a tshirt. I would get to class huffing and puffing (me on my inhaler: *wheeze* *puff* *suck*), my fivehead glistening with sweat, and all the locals would be shivering. All I needed was a Hawaiian shirt and a camera wrapped around my neck and I'd have really looked like a tourist.
When I get home, I'll post some Oz pictures so you know what I'm talking about.
UPDATE:
I didn't take any pictures of the hill, nor any of locals bundled up. I wish I could go back in time and take pictures of some of the things I miss the most but never documented. At the time, I didn't think I'd be looking back on my daily walk up that hill as a pleasant memory.
4.02.2008
if ever there's a post you don't read, this is it
You know that "Age by Chocolate" email that's been forwarded to you 10 times in the last year? If not, here's the gist of it:
The result of this should be a three digit number in which the first digit is the original number you chose, and the other two should be your age.
This is actually one of the most complicated numeral aerobics I've seen. The first time I tried to tackle how this works, I lost. I got some complicated multivariable equation that looked something like this:
Where X is the original number you chose, and Y is your birth year. It's not easy trying to solve for two variables with only one equation, especially when you already know what the two variables are. In fact, that's just circular logic and is impossible to do regardless. Needless to say, I got confused and gave up on the problem.
Until today. This is how it works:
Let's just say you pick the number 2, your birth year is 1985, and you have already had your bday this year.
- Pick a number between 1 and 10 (NOT inclusive, this is important). The email says something about this number being being the amount of times you would like to eat chocolate in a week. Whatever.
- Multiply by 2
- Add 5
- Multiply by 50
- If you've already had your bday this year, add 1758. Otherwise, add 1757.
- Subtract the four digit year you were born.
The result of this should be a three digit number in which the first digit is the original number you chose, and the other two should be your age.
This is actually one of the most complicated numeral aerobics I've seen. The first time I tried to tackle how this works, I lost. I got some complicated multivariable equation that looked something like this:
[(X × 2) + 5] × 50 + 1757 - Y = (X × 100) + (2008 - Y)
Where X is the original number you chose, and Y is your birth year. It's not easy trying to solve for two variables with only one equation, especially when you already know what the two variables are. In fact, that's just circular logic and is impossible to do regardless. Needless to say, I got confused and gave up on the problem.
Until today. This is how it works:
Let's just say you pick the number 2, your birth year is 1985, and you have already had your bday this year.
- First 2 × 2 = 4
- Then distribute the 50, so 4 × 50 = 200 and 5 × 50 = 250. The 250 is a constant, and no matter what number you originally chose or how old you are, that 250 will always be in the equation. Note the 200. That 2 is going to be the first digit of your final three digit number. If we go back a step, then we see why this is the first number you chose. The equation can be rearranged to (your number) × (2 × 50) = (your number) × 100. That's why it's important for your number to be between 1 and 10.
- 250 + 1758 = 2008. This is always a constant as well.
- Oh, and funny thing, when you subtract your birth year from 2008, you get your age. Ha.
- Add that shit up.
4.01.2008
something you never knew about nasa
[In the Aeroplane Over the Sea Neutral Milk Hotel]
Oh yeah, your old comments are gone. Well, not really, they're just on the old book club blog which has switched URLs to...something, I don't remember what. oldbookclub.blogspot.com maybe. That might have been the other thing I wanted to tell you in my last post, but I guess that's not really an advantage to upgrading. It's actually kind of a bummer. If I knew how to transfer those comments, I would. But I don't. I'm supposed to be doing homework right now and am just procrastinating it, can you tell?
I'm almost done with Ender's Game. I read over a hundred pages last night before I went to bed and then dreamed about the book the whole night. I'm serious, this shit is right up there with Harry Potter in all of its creamy goodness. I don't want to get ahead of myself because I still have no idea how it's going to end, but this book is fan-fucking-tastic so far. I'll get back to you on whether I still think that in a few days.
Dr. Glenn announced that Alan Stern just stepped down as the Associate Administrator and head of the Science Directorate at NASA a few days ago. That's a pretty big deal in the astronomy world. NASA's science sector represents about half of the US's total budget allotted to science research. That means that astronomy alone gets ~$5.5 billion each year, and all other science disciplines have to share another ~$5 billion (except for biomedical research, I think. They get their own money). So when the guy that's in charge of all of that money says "eff you" and takes off, that means that something's pretty wrong.
I've had the pleasure of hearing him speak live several times, and have also seen videos of him in front of congress debating the current budget proposal. In fact, Mark and I went to see him give a speech at CU's APS Colloquium about two weeks ago on planetary classifications and why Pluto should still be one (and he makes a compelling argument. Before that speech, I was totally down with ousting that little booger of a planet, but now I'm all for reinstating it and about 2000 other known objects as planets.). He seems like a very smart, dedicated man, and I can't image he took the idea of leaving his post lightly. Dr. Glenn said that a big part of his decision was because NASA was hemorrhaging money out of the Science Directorate and into Space Operations to help us get to the moon sooner. The problem with that is that the reason we want to get back into human spaceflight is so that we can, hopefully, get to Mars someday. And guess where the funding for Mars research is coming from. Science. Glenn was explaining that normally there's a firewall between Science and the rest of Aeronautics and such at NASA, and each keep their budgets separate. If one is underfunded, then they need to solve the problem on their own. But recently, that wall has come down and Science is taking the brunt of the beatings. Poor Science. I guess Stern got sick of congress jerking his around.
Another problem Science has been having in the last several decades is that budget overruns on specific projects have been running rampant. When a mission gets approved for funding from NASA, they submit a projected budget of what the thing will cost from beginning to end. Unfortunately, they never ever ever stick to these budgets and missions always end up costing millions, if not billions, more than anticipated. All of this money has to come from somewhere, and it stops smaller and newer missions from being developed AT ALL. So the reason Stern was hired in the first place was to stop this from continuing. He's done an excellent job in the last year (which is all the longer he's had the job) at keeping project teams within their allotted budgets and really cracking the whip when one ignores his warnings. This has allowed for the development of many more missions that otherwise would have been left on the cutting room floor.
So here's to Stern, and to hoping that his successor keeps NASA moving in the right direction.
Oh, and if you're read this, Dr. Stern, I'm looking for a job this May. Call me.
Oh yeah, your old comments are gone. Well, not really, they're just on the old book club blog which has switched URLs to...something, I don't remember what. oldbookclub.blogspot.com maybe. That might have been the other thing I wanted to tell you in my last post, but I guess that's not really an advantage to upgrading. It's actually kind of a bummer. If I knew how to transfer those comments, I would. But I don't. I'm supposed to be doing homework right now and am just procrastinating it, can you tell?
I'm almost done with Ender's Game. I read over a hundred pages last night before I went to bed and then dreamed about the book the whole night. I'm serious, this shit is right up there with Harry Potter in all of its creamy goodness. I don't want to get ahead of myself because I still have no idea how it's going to end, but this book is fan-fucking-tastic so far. I'll get back to you on whether I still think that in a few days.
Dr. Glenn announced that Alan Stern just stepped down as the Associate Administrator and head of the Science Directorate at NASA a few days ago. That's a pretty big deal in the astronomy world. NASA's science sector represents about half of the US's total budget allotted to science research. That means that astronomy alone gets ~$5.5 billion each year, and all other science disciplines have to share another ~$5 billion (except for biomedical research, I think. They get their own money). So when the guy that's in charge of all of that money says "eff you" and takes off, that means that something's pretty wrong.
I've had the pleasure of hearing him speak live several times, and have also seen videos of him in front of congress debating the current budget proposal. In fact, Mark and I went to see him give a speech at CU's APS Colloquium about two weeks ago on planetary classifications and why Pluto should still be one (and he makes a compelling argument. Before that speech, I was totally down with ousting that little booger of a planet, but now I'm all for reinstating it and about 2000 other known objects as planets.). He seems like a very smart, dedicated man, and I can't image he took the idea of leaving his post lightly. Dr. Glenn said that a big part of his decision was because NASA was hemorrhaging money out of the Science Directorate and into Space Operations to help us get to the moon sooner. The problem with that is that the reason we want to get back into human spaceflight is so that we can, hopefully, get to Mars someday. And guess where the funding for Mars research is coming from. Science. Glenn was explaining that normally there's a firewall between Science and the rest of Aeronautics and such at NASA, and each keep their budgets separate. If one is underfunded, then they need to solve the problem on their own. But recently, that wall has come down and Science is taking the brunt of the beatings. Poor Science. I guess Stern got sick of congress jerking his around.
Another problem Science has been having in the last several decades is that budget overruns on specific projects have been running rampant. When a mission gets approved for funding from NASA, they submit a projected budget of what the thing will cost from beginning to end. Unfortunately, they never ever ever stick to these budgets and missions always end up costing millions, if not billions, more than anticipated. All of this money has to come from somewhere, and it stops smaller and newer missions from being developed AT ALL. So the reason Stern was hired in the first place was to stop this from continuing. He's done an excellent job in the last year (which is all the longer he's had the job) at keeping project teams within their allotted budgets and really cracking the whip when one ignores his warnings. This has allowed for the development of many more missions that otherwise would have been left on the cutting room floor.
So here's to Stern, and to hoping that his successor keeps NASA moving in the right direction.
Oh, and if you're read this, Dr. Stern, I'm looking for a job this May. Call me.
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