All Hail the New Overlord of Existence...

ME!

Why? Simple. OK, not simple.

In the immortal words of Bill Cosby, "Children have the brain damage." And by children, I mean anyone in the position of "kid." Like college students, especially undergraduates. See, many undergraduates go into a class and find out it'll be hard work, so they get pissed. Others encounter something they don't like and talk to everybody but the instructor about the problem. Still others put more work into sabotaging their instructors than it would take for them to study for their quizzes and exams. I nearly forgot the tiny portion that actually does the work.

That's unfair. I'm about fairness, so I'll be truthful. Last week, Dr. Wood said she wanted to discuss a problem with me. Minor problem... of course not. Seven students--SEVEN--have been bitching about me to Dr. Wood. One of these seven even went to the department chair just to bitch about me. How many of these seven mentioned their problems to me? Even though I don't know who these students are (lucky them; I'd make them pay!), I know none of them spoke to me about their problems because noone speaks to me about problems they have with the class.

Apparently, I'm not prepared enough. NEWS FLASH! No one is prepared for that class. Yes-man and Follower are doing a good job in Dr. Wood's eyes because their students don't bitch about them (it's usually bad to bitch about the people giving away free points). As I knew they would, my students are being screwed by the current state of the so-called A&P staff. And I get to go up shit creek about it.

There are lots of elements to this problem. 1. The supervisor doesn't supervise (AKA micromanage); this is the definition of leading a staff of teachers, or anything else for that manner. 2. Students don't know how good they've got it. I could fuck them over like crazy, every last one of them, just to make myself feel good--but that wouldn't be fair. 3. A Yes-man gives the answer "Yes!" and not much else; making such an individual a de facto leader will not work, especially given item one. 4. A Follower, by definition, follows; followers don't actually put forth initiative. 5. The senior TA hasn't put up, so he's shut up.

Now that we're playing, "Let's screw that Len guy," that last one is about to change. I'm done taking orders. I'll take suggestions, but not orders. Yes-man and Follower said they were going to do a lot of things, but have failed to deliver almost every time where I'm involved. They were going to make handouts for everyone, so the students would know what to study. I never got a copy.

As of today, I'm declaring myself unofficial supervisor of Anatomy & Physiology I. The actual supervisor won't micromanage, so I'm going to do it for her. And I'm going to do it my way. My word will now be law for the students. I will do my best to be just and fair: I'll do my part, but the students and the other instructors will have to do theirs. If not, it's their ass, not mine.

I'm taking over. Work with me or make it where I don't have to take over. I don't care which happens anymore.

My Soundscope

There's a great track off the third RahXephon soundtrack called "My Soundscope." It's an exercise in minimalist music, with a sweet sound that slowly winds up and down like a wind-up doll that can't quite run out of power, but still doesn't have enough power to keep going. I think I'm gong to use it as a primer to write something... I don't have a clue what that will be.

I have submitted "The Golden Hollow" once more, this time to the e-zine Anti Muse. Their format is very, very eclectic, interested more in a good story than what genre it may or may not include. It doesn't pay much, but... at this stage, I'm more interested in getting something out there. The money will come in time.

I'm still weighing some options on where I'll send "Blood Draw" next. I've looked at information about a few places, but I need to look at those and decide what would work best for the story. So, if anyone likes reading about vampires and/or westerns, tell me and I'll send you something to read.

Words from Sponsors not ours...

I feel I should address a few things about a certain advertisment and this web log.

The nature of this site is to give me a forum to discuss various things that come to mind an allow others to comment on them. Primarily among these is my efforts to get my writing published. This is very important to me. I try to take it somewhat seriously. So, when I make serious claims about why I haven't been as successful as I'd like to be, as per the previous post, I mean for it to be a mostly serious discussion.

That being said, I have been a supporter of the Imagirobics program developed by Jim Powers. It is a brilliant self-help tool. I don't have the money or time to devote to the program, so I'll just have to write those 7 bestselling novels on my own, which is ok with me. However, Jim, I don't want you to use posts where I'm discussing writing 100% for the purposes of selling your product.

If you have a comment, please make it, but make sure it is both relevant and constructive.

Imaginary Stones

I sit here once more, listening to the sounds of RahXephon coming from my computer. My love for this show has once more resurfaced since it's on TV every week and I have someone new to talk to about it. One of the mian elements of RahXephon is the perceptions of the main character, Ayato Kamina. It is his perceptions which will shape--or in this case "tune"--the world.

I bring it up because my good friend Dan has recently written about the nature of writer's block and come up with some original, painfully obvious things that most people don't realize about the nature of writing. Since reading it, I've thought some about how I perceive the world and how much control my perceptions have on it.

FEAR: I think what I fear most about the writing process is that it's all for nothing. Not that I can't write, or that no one will like it; I know both of those things aren't true in the least. There are parts of me that aren't sure if it's even going to happen. I get stuck on where to send these two finished stories because I just don't know what to do with them. Similar reasons stop me from finishing one story I was working on a while back, if those count as reasons.

DISTRACTION: The world seeps in to time better spent on the writing itself. Perhaps it's all my friends coming over on Wednesdays or me spending a lot of time at the comic book store. These are things I could do less, but I'm not sure if I want to. Honestly, there are other places where I waste my time as well that are much better used for writing than what I use the time for now. Whatever the case may be, I need to shut out the visual and vocal interactions in some places and focus more on audio interactions (mood music, if it helps) and mental interactions (the act of writing).

LAZINESS: I'm a lazy guy unless I feel motivated. It's a bad way to be, but the more I observe people in the real world, the more I see that most people are incredibly lazy. If I can crack through my laziness a little, I'll be all the better for it.

These are the stones I've decided to see in the past. I need to get up tomorrow and see blank places where the stones used to be as I step over to the computer and type.

Will I?

Mixed Signals

Turns out I wasn't done talking about Lauren, not by a long shot. Before I start, let me say, my thought on the window having come and gone still holds... it's just a fact that some windows can open again.

The first lecture test for A&P I was today. After a short hike to get to the hall where we were giving the test, I saw Lauren there. Odd because what use is a tutor during the test. I exchanged pleasant discussion with her, just as I did last Friday.

Let me step back a second and make note that I saw my supervisor's S.O. leaving the lecture hall when I came in. I get along well enough with my supervisor that the concept of the same-sex relationship usually doesn't enter into my mind.

Fast forward to me and Lauren passing out exams. We do this and reconviene at the front of the room. Then my superhearing strikes. I heard most of their conversation. I won't repeat any of it. Instead I'll just take advantage of the opportunity to say this--gay people might be gay, but they're still people.

Several minutes had passed and Lauren took her leave. As she passed by me she gives me a firm, distinct pat on the back and tells me she's taking off. I got called away to see about a student's question and, on the way back to the front, Lauren waves to me as she leaves. Being a polite person, I wave back.

No matter what, this girl is friendly. Something just has to happen so she can get to know people before opening up. Why does this sound familiar...? But I heard what I heard with superhearing. I didn't hear it all, but from what I heard....

I wonder if my chances are slim, good, or absolutely nonexistant. I'm a scientist; I get paid to be curious.

An Interjection

I've picked a very difficult path. Writing isn't the easiest thing in the world, partially because of the demands I put on myself and the demands of all publications--it's so hard to go from unpublished to published. I sat down for a couple of hours recently and couldn't decide on a place to send even one of the stories I should be sending around right now.

My mind is very focused on Ashes of War, so much that I feel that I've put everything else on the back burner. I think part of why that's happened is that short stories, for me at least, are a method to open the door of being published. My ideas and concepts are much bigger, requiring books to contain their force. I'm about 97% certain that Ashes of War will be the first novel I ever publish. I've just got to open that door first.

In other news, this Tuesday, September 20, the real Battlestar Galactica set comes out on DVD. This one has the US episodes, the entire mini-series, and a lower price than the UK version. I just think the show is awesome.

Heroes

Hero: One who struggles and sacrifices for the betterment of another.

How's that for a simple definition of a hero. We're all interested to some degree in heroes. Lead characters in books, movies, video games, and TV are all usually heroes to some extent of the word. We have heroes in the everyday world, but I want to focus on heroes of myth, old or new.

Being a comic book reader, I've seen many types of heroes, and I think I know what makes a good hero as a result of that. That's how I came to the definition I gave. It's the sacrifice part that makes heroes a little hazy. Quite simply, to sacrifice, one has to give up something. Of course, with the struggle, that's not going to be easy to do.

To make things easy, I like to say that an audience relates to a hero that bleeds. The blood can be literal of figurative, but the hero has to struggle through their sacrifice to truly reach heroic proportions. Take Batman, he had to study for most of his life various arts and disciplines just to fight a nightly battle against crime; he had to give up his real life and his childhood so he could fulfil this goal. Spider-man suffers constantly because anything that goes well for him, has to go wrong in part to his duties as a superhero.

People love Batman and Spider-man. People are apathetic to Superman. Why? Superman is too damn powerful to suffer for very long. Superman is so powerful, so endurant, he can take anything his enemies dish out and come back for more. Scars aren't found on Superman's body. Batman probably has dozens of scars.

What does Superman sacrifice to be a hero? A normal life? Not really, he's married to Lois Lane and is a successful reporter. Being Superman lets him do his job better than other reporters. Lois could get hurt, but Superman is always there just in time to save her if she's in any danger.

What scars does Superman have? Physically, none. How about emotional? His life is good, really good. There isn't a constant reason why it's bad to be Superman.

In short, you can't do lasting damage, physically or mentally, to Superman. He'll always recover. Gods of established, recognized religions don't get off so easy. Why does Superman? Because most people don't care enough to do something about it.

Power may corrupt absolutely, but if it doesn't, it makes a wall around the figure. A wall of this form, with this kind of power, can only be a wall separating Superman from the audience. We just don't care. Infallability is boring. We want to see heroes who suffer and are changed by their battles. We don't get that from Superman, so all we get is infallability.

All we get is apathy.

Limits

If there's one thing I can't stand more than Yes-men, it's pointless idiocy.

As a Teaching Assisstant, I get up first thing on Monday mornings and observe a full staff member teach the first section of lab for the week. This is to let TAs know what to do with their labs, things like material to cover, time to spend on a subject, and ways to present difficult subjects.

Despite it being Dr. Wood's lab, the wonderful and hilarious Maija (pronounced "Maya") teaches that section instead. I've known Maija for several years. She's a very smart, intelligent person to be around. Also, since she's originally from Latvia, she's got that cool Eastern European accent going.

Tangent: Last Friday, I was discussing room schedules with the other TAs and Maija asked, "Are you arguing?" I made a (half-) joke that we would be soon, to which she replied, "OK, then I want to see blood."

Anyway, without asking any of us, she put all us TAs to work teaching her class. She rearranged the groups to fit the number of "teachers" present. I had a few problems with this. First, I don't care if you're the King of Spain or the Rock of Gibraltar, you will ask me to do something extra or I probably won't do it. Second, I don't want anyone else messing with my authority in my class, so I don't want to mess with anyone else's; that's a quick way to get flaws in what students learn. Third, it's not my job. I'm supposed to be a "fly on the wall." At most, I can answer questions students might have, but nothing more than that. I was the only one not telling the students what every last little thing was.

First thing you learn in college about writing: show, don't tell. It works just as well for teaching. It's another version of the old line, "Fish for a man, feed him for a day; show a man how to fish, feed him for a lifetime."

If this happens again, I'm going to be blunt with Maija about what I'm supposed to do in her class--because I have a lot of respect for her. If that doesn't work, then I think my going to that lab is optional....

Lauren. Not happening. She knew I was in the room and walked by without really even giving me more than a glance. She wasn't being uppity, she was just leaving. That's how I knew the window of opportunity there had come and gone.

Immediately after finding this bit of information out, I started outlining cultural differences between the rival nations in Ashes of War. I figured out how their police systems, roads, buildings, and local governments work. I got on a good roll with thoughts and ideas with that. I was quite pleased.

Let's Change The Beat

This Monday could be the first time in about two weeks where I'll have an oppotunity to talk to Lauren. Could be, because the way my scheduling has worked, along with my timing upon walking into lecture, I don't even see her. Even if I do, I'm not going to be so concerned with any possibilities. It's been so long, I just don't know if it can happen any more. If it does, great; if not, that's OK too.

A little more than a week ago, Rocky dropped off a DVD set in hopes of getting me to watch another show. As a result, I am no thoroughly addicted to the show House, M.D. Watching Dr. Gregory House is like watching a middle-aged, very bitter, cane-carrying version of, well, me. He may be an insufferable asshole, but he will heal you if you are his patient. He despises liars--and everybody lies--and doesn't suffer fools lightly. Speaking of which, have I mentioned I don't like Yes-men? I haven't? OK.

I don't like Yes-men.

I find them to be self-deluded fools, only interested in political success. You can tell what comic company I'm more interested based on, in part, by the lack of Yes-men who speak for them. But this isn't about comics, this is about Teaching Assistants.

This past Friday, I discovered a couple of people I work with are Yes-men. The jury's still out on one of them, but the other, who I shall refer to as "Mr. Yes," is a card-carrying member of the Yes-men of North America. Most Yes-men are ultra-conformists if you follow the stereotype, but Mr. Yes is not.

Mr. Yes is about 23 years old and is obsessed with drinking, eclectic music, herbal remedies, hemp, bat guano, and frequent use of three-letter words beginning with the letter Y. Mr. Yes, who has had all of 3 weeks as a graduate student, wants me to sacrifice my time, so he has more time to work on his thesis and drink. I've been doing this for a year, care nothing about his schedule one way or another, and need to work on my thesis, not give up my time so he can figure out what his is going to be.

My real problem with Mr. Yes is that he's trying to dictate terms to someone with the same position who has seniority and he doesn't know how to ask. Ken Murphy asks for my help a lot, but he makes it really seem worthwhile, partially because he knows how to approach people. Mr. Yes asks for this, and I really don't give a shit what he's asking because, I'm not playing his game. Mr. Yes wants me to come in nights and weekends to work on stuff for Anatomy & Physiology. NO.

There's another source for this problem--I've been working for a month and won't get paid for close to a week. Also, we're starting the fourth week of the semester and our schedules are almost set in stone by this point aside from classes. (Seems backwards doesn't it.) If I ran the world, I'd just say a big "fuck you" to University politics, Mr. Yes, and his bat guano.

In better news, I might be starting up a new story. A mystery involving the arrival of a box filled with odd clues and an enigmatic message. Could be fun. I just have to figure out what kinds of fun things I can put in. Also, I'm thinking about Ashes of War again. It's a dream project, so I'll keep coming back to it. Right now, I'm assessing how the settings should look more than anything else.

Finally, if those of you out there who are thinking of posting don't like the new anti-advertisement function when adding your comments, please let me know.

Wedding = Chaos (IV--Photograph Retrospective)

I've seen the products of the various cameras used at my sister's wedding. Here's what I noticed:

1. "I'm going to take a picture of myself! I'm so cool!" No, you're not.

2. "Who are these people?"

3. "Here's a great idea--let's all take pictures of the same thing." "OK, what?" "Random people dancing." "Greatest pictures ever!"

4. "Look at April fix her plate! We want them to remember this forever."

5. People do crazy shit at weddings.

6. This was in a lot of pictures, so I think I'll just address it en masse here. Remember, Christa, the girl who danced upon me or attacked me, depending on your point of view? Yeah. If you remember, then you realize I never dance. People saw me dance and I never dance. That's why there are no less than 40 pictures of me dancing with this girl. And she is staring at me doe-eyed in every one of them.

Plus! She caught the bouquet. (Fuck, this just looks worse for me in retrospect.) That's why I've created this fun equation:

Wedding + Female guest + Bouquet - Inhibitions + Dancing = I pity whoever dances with her.

Shit. That was me. Which is why I thank God that I was family, which meant automatic cleaning detail. Because that was shit I don't want.

Silver Lining: Christa from the wedding is an incoming freshman in college. Lauren that I've got my eye on is a junior. I suddenly do not fear for my life from some crazy girl.

'Gator!

That was the thing that made me start to think going to Neelyville this weekend might not be a bad idea. Since there was a 3-day weekend, my family was taking advantage of the situation to barbeque. Among the list of things being put on the grill was Alligator Sausage, provided by April after her Honeymoon to New Orleans a month ago. It was good stuff.

I got a few more things as well. During the same trip, April and Landon got me a New Orleans/Bourbon Street keychain and a really kickass pen. The pen had a metal casing with dragons carved in it. Very cool. If I can remember, I'll put a picture up and show it off.

My parents went to Branson a couple of weeks ago on vacation. Knowing what my sister had found, they got me a pen as well; a very elite business pen with the John Deere logo on it. No, it wasn't a cheap promotional Bic pen, either.

Of all of us, I think I liked the 'gator most of all. Mom had a little, Dad liked it bout couldn't handle the spice, and April thought it was OK. I make note of this as evidence that I will try new things once in a while.

Hope

Over the past couple of weeks, I've gone through something of a mental reconfiguration. Part of that is due to starting a new semester of class, part due to having to change my teaching methods since I have a new supervisior, and part due to a (falsely?) presumed signal I picked up from a nice girl.

I've always been one for fairness. I think everyone should get an equal chance at the start of the race, and the field narrows due to some finding ways to accelerate past the odds. I think all people have a spark of good in them, as well as a spark of evil. It's balance, you see. Yin and Yang. Order amidst chaos.

In light of that, I offer a few tidbits of information that will hopefully make some of you feel better about current events, relationships, and life in general.

1. Don't like $3 gas? Most other countries in the world pay that or more. We may be the richest country in the world, but that doesn't mean we get to make all the rules on who pays what. (Here comes the hard part.) Basically, if the rest of the world can pay it, what makes us any better?

2. Look before you leap and you will be much happier. Enjoy and take pleasure in the things you have. Think about all the random chemical proceses going on in your body and you might realize that it's a miracle you're alive.

3. In the past few weeks, most of the single people I know (including myself) have found someone that they are at least interested in. In this sense, I'm taking interested to mean litereally that. There's a smart, nice girl named Lauren, and I'm interested in learning more about her. Maybe the idea of there being someone for everyone isn't as crazy as I once thought, which is odd considering my parents met on a blind date 30+ years ago.

In conclusion, the glass is either half full or it's a half a glass of water. Saying it's half empty illogically implies the water still in the glass.