I'm not going to apologize for putting this post up on Saturday morning. I will, however, apologize for the fact that my last post was the definition of mental vomit. Next time I'll try to get what's been cogitated and refine it a little.
The Middle of Nowhere
If you were once a kid who liked cartoons, the title Courage the Cowardly Dog might mean something to you. Courage was a little pink dog who lived with two old people in the (extremely) little town of Nowhere, Kansas. I bring this up because if Houghton had another name that would be fairly accurate.
Before I go on, I fully realize and admit to not having lived in a lot of small towns; I've always lived in or near cities, even when I was in Asia, so I can't say I'm an expert on them. Yes, Houghton does have Fillmore and Olean and other small towns nearby, so we're not entirely isolated. Thank you for allowing me to take that paragraph to nullify my hyperbole created in the first.
The main deal is that Houghton College, located in the town of Houghton, New York, is not the largest location out there. Outside of our cafeteria and Big Al's in the basement, the only other places to eat are a Subway and a Chinese restaurant, both within walking distance. We have a post office and an environmental centre that used to be a gas station. This is a college town in every sense of the word.
It really goes beyond being physically isolated from the rest of the world, though. Houghton College is a Christian academic institution, and that makes a world of difference. Walking around at a very warm one o' clock this morning, I took time to marvel at creation and appreciate what I have here. As I go by townhouses I don't hear music that blares or pounds, no screaming or yelling. I can (fairly) safely assume that there aren't alcohol-fueled orgies occurring in the dorms and what have you, and that I won't be drunkenly asked if someone can use my phone (I'd say no, mainly because I don't own a phone). All I could hear was the rustling of the leaves in the wind.
I'd like to attribute my penchant for peacefulness to the fact that I consider myself a pretty chilled individual, but I don't know. Maybe I'm still just trying to brush off my summertime introversion (which sounds like an oxymoron, but isn't), and this is the place to ease into that. Either way, it was a beautiful night last night, and I couldn't have enjoyed it like I did on the campus of Houghton College.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Music Monday (Ironic Because It's Wednesday)
Roughly ten minutes ago I stepped back into the relative warmth of our townhouse, having just stood in the somewhat cold to listen to what I suppose could be called a "show." Standing out there with my hands deep in my pockets I had the opportunity to be washed in the sounds of deadhorse, a band that dropped by from Pennsylvania. Suffice to say, it really got me thinking about music.
Recently I teased one of my housemates about the genre of music he enjoyed, and he retorted that rock music hits you "here" (as he motioned to his midsection). Being at an outdoor show really allowed me to experience it fully, to feel the music as it hit me here (I am motioning to my midsection). As I listened I was also struck by the fact that in spite of having a purely instrumental sound, deadhorse managed to appeal to my emotions. Did I feel more melancholy because one of their songs reminded me of another I'd heard before, or did the actual sound of the song in and of itself create that feeling in me?
With music on the mind I was almost forced to mull over the theory a friend and I had discussed as kids (and continue to talk about today). Musical trends come and go, and we managed to ascertain between the two of us that eventually there will be a return to more natural sounds, a putting off of auto-tune and distortion pedals and the like. I continue to wonder when pop music will swing its way back to a more simplified sound. Pop music having its etymology in "popular music," though the definition has most definitely changed, especially in our current age.
Lastly, since I feel these are a lot of thoughts at once, I wanted to share this one idea I had while riding home with the radio on one night. We began our trip on a jazz station, and rather than being extremely chill it was very upbeat, prompting my often quiet and confused grandmother (the one with Alzheimer's) to dance. Afterwards the radio was switched to a more contemporary top hits station, with songs such as Usher's OMG. Both songs serve the same purpose, to provide music to dance to, and for the rest of the ride I wondered if somehow the synths of today's dance music could be replaced with strings, the generated beats replaced with an actual drum kit, the singer's modulated voice replaced by three or four singers, or just one with backup.
These are a lot of thoughts about a topic I'm not even that knowledgeable about, so for that I apologize. What I've decided to stop apologizing for, however, is the lateness of these posts. I've come to the conclusion that my college schedule is the most demanding I've had thus far, and I can't always control when I'll have time to write these posts. I do, however, promise at minimum one a week, for each blog, roughly around the days they would usually update. It's not ideal, but it's just how it's going to be for now.
Recently I teased one of my housemates about the genre of music he enjoyed, and he retorted that rock music hits you "here" (as he motioned to his midsection). Being at an outdoor show really allowed me to experience it fully, to feel the music as it hit me here (I am motioning to my midsection). As I listened I was also struck by the fact that in spite of having a purely instrumental sound, deadhorse managed to appeal to my emotions. Did I feel more melancholy because one of their songs reminded me of another I'd heard before, or did the actual sound of the song in and of itself create that feeling in me?
With music on the mind I was almost forced to mull over the theory a friend and I had discussed as kids (and continue to talk about today). Musical trends come and go, and we managed to ascertain between the two of us that eventually there will be a return to more natural sounds, a putting off of auto-tune and distortion pedals and the like. I continue to wonder when pop music will swing its way back to a more simplified sound. Pop music having its etymology in "popular music," though the definition has most definitely changed, especially in our current age.
Lastly, since I feel these are a lot of thoughts at once, I wanted to share this one idea I had while riding home with the radio on one night. We began our trip on a jazz station, and rather than being extremely chill it was very upbeat, prompting my often quiet and confused grandmother (the one with Alzheimer's) to dance. Afterwards the radio was switched to a more contemporary top hits station, with songs such as Usher's OMG. Both songs serve the same purpose, to provide music to dance to, and for the rest of the ride I wondered if somehow the synths of today's dance music could be replaced with strings, the generated beats replaced with an actual drum kit, the singer's modulated voice replaced by three or four singers, or just one with backup.
These are a lot of thoughts about a topic I'm not even that knowledgeable about, so for that I apologize. What I've decided to stop apologizing for, however, is the lateness of these posts. I've come to the conclusion that my college schedule is the most demanding I've had thus far, and I can't always control when I'll have time to write these posts. I do, however, promise at minimum one a week, for each blog, roughly around the days they would usually update. It's not ideal, but it's just how it's going to be for now.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Putting the "Ah" in "Palahniuk"
Whenever I am reading one of Chuck Palahniuk's books and am asked who he is, I simply give them the most straightforward answer that comes to mind: "It's the guy who wrote Fight Club." For those of you who have read at least one of his novels you are probably well aware of his literary style and the methods he employs to hook readers. For those of you who aren't (but have seen the aforementioned novel turned film) just imagine verbs, nouns, and adjectives melded together to form the images of cracked ribs, bruised and bleeding lips, and black eyes. Pygmy features graphic homosexual rape, Rant features a protagonist who contracts rabies again and again via animal bites because he enjoys it. In explaining my title it would be wise to bank on the "Ah" referring to the shock and awe descriptions so often employed in his books. This is not the case.
The "Ah" I have found in "Palahniuk" instead refers to science, to the drawn out sound you make when you realize something you never knew before. To be more broad, jargon and technical terminology and the knowledge of how the world works. Fight Club explains how soap is made, as well as how projection booths work. Rant elaborates on how the rabies virus incubates and what its side-effects are, while Diary delves into the facial muscles, graphology, and the ingredients to oil-based paints. Palahniuk writes in such a way that you find yourself completely involved in the story while at the same time picking up the jargon, realizing that when someone contracts their levator labii superioris muscle they're sneering, that something has happened which disgusts them thoroughly. Wading through scenes that make us crease our foreheads and wince and maybe even faint we find ourselves growing oddly more knowledgeable, we begin to find the fact behind the fiction.
As a closing paragraph I would like to include that I believe Palahniuk's works will stand the test of time. In spite of his novels constantly featuring socially awkward protagonists, the way they seem to feature catchy, explanatory phrases ("I am Jack's Raging Bile Duct" Fight Club, "The weather today is an increasing trend towards denial" Diary), the less-than-subtle lean towards shock-and-awe literature, he writes like no one else has, and is continuing to grow as an author. Perhaps he is even the author to be placed on that pedestal labelled "Postmodern," an author for our times. An author to take the madness and confusion and violence and indecisiveness and nihilism and knead it together, a bread that alone cannot sustain, but instead explains.
The "Ah" I have found in "Palahniuk" instead refers to science, to the drawn out sound you make when you realize something you never knew before. To be more broad, jargon and technical terminology and the knowledge of how the world works. Fight Club explains how soap is made, as well as how projection booths work. Rant elaborates on how the rabies virus incubates and what its side-effects are, while Diary delves into the facial muscles, graphology, and the ingredients to oil-based paints. Palahniuk writes in such a way that you find yourself completely involved in the story while at the same time picking up the jargon, realizing that when someone contracts their levator labii superioris muscle they're sneering, that something has happened which disgusts them thoroughly. Wading through scenes that make us crease our foreheads and wince and maybe even faint we find ourselves growing oddly more knowledgeable, we begin to find the fact behind the fiction.
As a closing paragraph I would like to include that I believe Palahniuk's works will stand the test of time. In spite of his novels constantly featuring socially awkward protagonists, the way they seem to feature catchy, explanatory phrases ("I am Jack's Raging Bile Duct" Fight Club, "The weather today is an increasing trend towards denial" Diary), the less-than-subtle lean towards shock-and-awe literature, he writes like no one else has, and is continuing to grow as an author. Perhaps he is even the author to be placed on that pedestal labelled "Postmodern," an author for our times. An author to take the madness and confusion and violence and indecisiveness and nihilism and knead it together, a bread that alone cannot sustain, but instead explains.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Tomorrow, Tomorrow
The new blog post will go up tomorrow, because I have to write an article for the newspaper that I forgot about. Maybe if you're all nice or whatever I'll put it up here for you to read.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Still Failing as a Human Being
It's roughly eleven on a Monday night and I legitimately can't recall anything that I wanted to write about tonight. The main problem stemming from today being the first day of college, and three classes has burdened my summer-weakened mind far beyond what it can take.
That being said, this post will be a simple update with a few short thoughts on my classes. Full posts should return Thursday, on "these are stories", with something I have promised will be "special." I honestly don't know what I'll be doing yet.
One Thought Per Class
- American Literature as a class has strengthened my desire to delve into the origins of Canadian Literature.
- Literary Nonfiction was all about writing in a nonfiction manner, but all I could think about was how some people pop the collars of suit jackets, and seem to be okay with it.
- French 101 has cracked down on my inability to roll my "r's." I have been practicing nonstop ever since the class let out.
That being said, this post will be a simple update with a few short thoughts on my classes. Full posts should return Thursday, on "these are stories", with something I have promised will be "special." I honestly don't know what I'll be doing yet.
One Thought Per Class
- American Literature as a class has strengthened my desire to delve into the origins of Canadian Literature.
- Literary Nonfiction was all about writing in a nonfiction manner, but all I could think about was how some people pop the collars of suit jackets, and seem to be okay with it.
- French 101 has cracked down on my inability to roll my "r's." I have been practicing nonstop ever since the class let out.
Monday, August 23, 2010
I Don't Always Watch TV, But When I Do . . .
. . . it's typically cartoons, music videos, cooking shows, or Deadliest Warrior. For those if you who aren't super familiar with the latter, the show pits two of history's greatest fighters against one another to see "Who Is Deadliest?" This is done by testing various weapons from each fighter, and then inputting that data into a "battle simulator designed by Slitherine Studios," which then conducts one thousand battles.
The man who enters said data into the computer is Max Geiger, introduced at the offset of every episode as "computer whiz, Max Geiger." Recently the third season was revealed to be in production, alongside the shocking news that Max would not be returning.
As a loyal fan of the show, I am both saddened and dismayed. Computer whiz Max Geiger was, to me, the lifeblood of the show. His sideline comments were not often useful and were more for comic relief, but he held in his fingertips the ability to turn interval-scaled statistical information into living, breathing fighters. Gaze at the first two seconds of the clip below and behold as numbers metamorphose, matrix-style, into fierce combatants.
In my mind there is no one else who can replace Max Geiger. Apparently there's some ex-Navy Seal or something who's going to be the new expert on fighting techniques, but can he use the computer? Can he type the jumble of keys necessary to prepare the battle, before pressing the one essential to its beginning? There is no other man alive capable of taking over this job.
Max Geiger, computer whiz, genius, expert, you were with us for too short a time. I look forward to this next season not with anticipation, but with a deep sense of loss and disappointment. I can only hope that somewhere out there you are typing keys, and doing what you do best: bringing dreams to life.
The man who enters said data into the computer is Max Geiger, introduced at the offset of every episode as "computer whiz, Max Geiger." Recently the third season was revealed to be in production, alongside the shocking news that Max would not be returning.
As a loyal fan of the show, I am both saddened and dismayed. Computer whiz Max Geiger was, to me, the lifeblood of the show. His sideline comments were not often useful and were more for comic relief, but he held in his fingertips the ability to turn interval-scaled statistical information into living, breathing fighters. Gaze at the first two seconds of the clip below and behold as numbers metamorphose, matrix-style, into fierce combatants.
In my mind there is no one else who can replace Max Geiger. Apparently there's some ex-Navy Seal or something who's going to be the new expert on fighting techniques, but can he use the computer? Can he type the jumble of keys necessary to prepare the battle, before pressing the one essential to its beginning? There is no other man alive capable of taking over this job.
Here Max Geiger shows us what he thinks of a weapons test.
Max Geiger, computer whiz, genius, expert, you were with us for too short a time. I look forward to this next season not with anticipation, but with a deep sense of loss and disappointment. I can only hope that somewhere out there you are typing keys, and doing what you do best: bringing dreams to life.
Deadliest Warrior, etc. is the property of Spike TV. You should watch Spike TV if you are a man and like stuff that men like.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
32 Emotional Signs That He's Cheating
I can actually give you just one (1) tangible, piece of evidence why I'm cheating, and it has to do with this blog post. Actually, the piece of evidence is also the blog post, and to find out why you will have to keep reading. If you think the title is nonsense it's because it is; it was the first entry I got when I typed in "he's cheating" on a popular search engine. Google, my hat's off to you.
To get down to brass tacks and start beating this bush, let me be the first to say that this post is really just a redirect towards a new blog I am starting as of today. If you want to find out more about it, I strongly recommend the link posted in the next sentence. To describe the new blog in twenty-five words, "these are stories" is a place on the internet I have made to put writing I would not normally place on this blog, i.e. fiction.
This decision was half-made by me quite a while ago, and if you can recall a post made on July Twelfth you will remember that I had asked you all to throw opinions in my general direction in terms of a blog specifically for stories. I read the two comments I had on there, asked others as the weeks went on, and came to the conclusion that this was the ideal route to take.
You will notice on the top of the site, beneath the title "these are words" it now says "updates every monday." This has been changed because, as I'm sure you've already figured out, this blog will now only update on Mondays. The other blog, "these are stories" will update every Thursday.
So go on over there and check it out. If you decide not to now, there will be a new link on a sidebar somewhere to it, and you can always click on it then. That's all I have for today (on this bog, anyway).
To get down to brass tacks and start beating this bush, let me be the first to say that this post is really just a redirect towards a new blog I am starting as of today. If you want to find out more about it, I strongly recommend the link posted in the next sentence. To describe the new blog in twenty-five words, "these are stories" is a place on the internet I have made to put writing I would not normally place on this blog, i.e. fiction.
This decision was half-made by me quite a while ago, and if you can recall a post made on July Twelfth you will remember that I had asked you all to throw opinions in my general direction in terms of a blog specifically for stories. I read the two comments I had on there, asked others as the weeks went on, and came to the conclusion that this was the ideal route to take.
You will notice on the top of the site, beneath the title "these are words" it now says "updates every monday." This has been changed because, as I'm sure you've already figured out, this blog will now only update on Mondays. The other blog, "these are stories" will update every Thursday.
So go on over there and check it out. If you decide not to now, there will be a new link on a sidebar somewhere to it, and you can always click on it then. That's all I have for today (on this bog, anyway).
Oh, and I'm "cheating" with these posts because instead of being about something it's more just a redirect someplace else. Just wanted to make that super clear.
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