30-inch Monitors of DOOM
Good morning, blog. It’s been a while. A looooong while. How are you?
Blogging used to be a thing I did when I was bord in class. Then, of course, I decided to take a semester off from school and break my ass working a second job, having somehow fooled myself into thinking that taking crap from people as a grocery store cashier would be worth $7.45 an hour.
I bailed on that after about three and a half months.
So here I am, back at school. I’m only taking one class this semester. Editing 1. Video editing, that is. After a terribly frustrating year at college trying to force myself to study what I thought I shouldstudy, I decided to do things differently this go round and study what I liked.
IT'S TEH FUTURE
I’d like to say that the blogging will resume now that I have a class to not pay attention to again, but honestly, I’m pretty sure I’m going to like this class. I walked in to find a huge bay of thirty some odd macs with MASSIVE monitors. I’m in heaven. These computers are about $3000 bucks a piece, and I’ve yet to be able to afford one myself. And they’re open for use for four hours a day after class, which means I finally get to play around with Final Cut Pro, the industry standard for editing software.
I may still get some blogging in, though. It seems like the kind of class where we’ll spend a good bit of time just hanging out. At least, that’s what we’re doing right now. And the teacher isn’t uptight about how obvious it is when people play on facebook on their thirty inch computer screens during class.
I think I’m going to like my classmates, too. We’re all here because we love to make videos. I mean, Film and Video isn’t a field that parents make their kids go into because it’s a lucrative career. It’s a field that people like me fight for the ability to enter. It’s a field for nerds who make jokes about The Human Centipede and write stories about, I kid you not, Sharktopuses (sharks + octopus.) I literally just heard the guy behind me talking about this. This room is a veritable cornucopia or nerddom. The guy in front of me to my right has a CTFxC background. We just gathered around someones computer to watch a movie trailer because the film was shot entirely on a Canon 5D. Only nerds watch movies because of what camera they were shot on.
Well, class is over, and I have an accursed dentist appointment to attend. I suppose that’s all for now. I hope to be present on this blog far more frequently in the near future.
Later all,
Kenneth
Vintage YouTube Content
This is the kind of stuff that YouTube was created from. Back then, it was like AFV for the internet.
Had to share.
St. Peter’s holy nickers!
Thursday, April 7, 2011, 12:17 PM, at school
So I’m in the school library, where the majority of my technological existence has taken place for the past three weeks+. It took forever for a computer to open up today, as the library is pretty full. I did my Western Civ homework while I waited, and then finally found an open computer just across from my friend Chris.
We were just going about our business, chatting about classes, browsing the internet and such, when we looked up to see a group of eight or ten old people enter the library. They just stood there for a minute, and we assumed that they were waiting for some computers to open up. Upon closer inspection, however, we noticed that they were merely observing us. They watched for upwards of twenty minutes, periodically jotting down notes. Psychologists, I take it. I was surprised that Mr. Brown was not among them.
I have to say, the experience was a wee bit unsettling. I kept stealing furtive glances at them as I chatted with Chris and worked on my story.
I do hope you will all forgive me for the prolonged internet silence. But hey, at least it wasn’t out of laziness this time. Sense my laptop died, I’ve had to slowly readjust my schedule around library hours. The library has become my office, of sorts. But sometimes it’s hard to find an open computer, and when I do, I tend to spend the majority of my time working on my story that I’ve been writing. You know, the one I’ve been rambling incessantly about on facebook.
It’s called “The Bones Below Me.” I wrote it by hand during the extreme boredom that ensued after my laptop crashed. It came out to 78 pages in the notebook and 42 pages typed. It currently sits at 12,000+ words, which kind of depresses me, as I was hoping it would be at least 20,000 words so it would be an actual novella. I’ve got a few more scenes to add, so I’m guessing it will total out at roughly 15,000 words.
Perhaps losing my laptop was a blessing in disguise, as I’ve inadvertently found my prolific groove as a writer, so to speak. I’ve not been this productive with my writing in ages. I’m nearly finished with my current story, and I’ve already begun writing another. The main difference is that it’s no longer hard for me to write. I had to force it out before, and a mere three page short story would leave my creative juices fully drained. But this last story? I wrote the entire rough draft in five days. I typed the whole thing up and revised it in less than a week after that. When I finish adding scenes I’ll print it out and send copies to my beta readers (aka Kirsten, Mark and Jacob), and then I’ll tackle draft three based on their feedback. At that point, assuming nobody thinks it’s a total load of crap, I’ll probably post it here on the blog one chapter at a time. I think there will only be five or six chapters, so I’ll probably post two or three per week until it’s all done.
Plus, if the past two weeks are any indicator, this story will be the first of many. I’m working on another installment in sequence with Dream Song, and I think it may be nearly as long as The Bones Below Me. Also, I’m still mulling over that “Meanwhile, back at the ranch…” story I mentioned a few weeks back. I’m thinking of calling it, “A Tale of Two Ranches,” as penned by my co-writer. Yes, I’m talking to you, Jacob McGreger. Let’s get busy on this.
I hope to buy another laptop soon so I can get caught up on my youtube channel and continue my writing on a keyboard that doesn’t make my wrists cramp. I’ve recorded four or five vlogs in the past month, and it frustrates me not to be able to post them.
Anyways, I’m going to go home and get started on my taxes.
Later all,
Kenneth
I do this so you cannot help but hear; a wise man views a moonless night with fear.
Friday, March 18, 2011, 12:45 AM, at home on the couch
Alas, but the beast has been slain. And when I say “the beast” I mean “my laptop,” and when I say “been slain” I mean “crashed.” I’m terribly sorry for the past week or two of internet silence. I’ve been unable to update my blog or my youtube channel, not to mention check my facebook or bank accounts. Well, that’s not entirely true. I can log on to most of these things from my phone, but only haltingly so.
I believe it was the first day of spring break that my laptop died. I don’t remember what I was doing, but it just shut down and wouldn’t come back on. So I began trouble shooting. The power cord was plugged in, and the little light on the side of the laptop showed be that it was recieving power. When I pressed the power button, the keys would light up for a split second and then die. I tried holding the power button down. Pressing it several times in rapid succession. Escape. Control Alt Delete. Open sesame. Nothing worked.
I decided to disect it, much as I did my ipod a few weeks ago and my digital camera several years ago. And yes, I was smart enought to make sure it was no longer under warrenty first, as my disection would make the warrenty void. So I took it apart one layer at a time, very careful not to destroy anything or misplace anything. I found no dangling wires or fried circuits. However, I did ascertain that the computer would do it’s little split-second light up thing with or without the battery.
Therefor, I deducted that the battery had, perhaps, gone kaput. I ordered a new one, which I received in the mail today.
Suffice to say my deduction was of less than Sherlock Holmes quality.
So here I am, laptopless, borrowing my mothers computer just to stay in contact with my fellow viral nerds and reassure them that I am still alive. Sigh… School will be starting back in three days, and I’ll have to write all my papers in the school library and do all my algebra in the math lab. When I’m at home, I may even have to read instead of browse youtube.
Just kidding. I am actually glad for the chance to catch up on my ever lengthening reading list. In fact, I just finished a really incredible book that I’ve been looking forward to for a couple of years now.
It’s called The Wise Man’s Fear, by Patrick Rothfuss. I purchased it’s prequel, The Name of the Wind, on a whim a couple years back, and was really blown away by it’s beauty. The series is told in the words of its own protagonist, Kvothe, who narrates the underlying truth behind his own legendarium. Yes, it is a fantasy fiction book. Yes, there is magic, swashbuckling, and cloak wearing. But the magic is so thoroughly grounded in physics that it feels tangible. The swashbuckling is never overly fantastic, and is, in fact, quite gripping. And honestly, who would want to read a book without any cloaks in it?
Frankly, Rothfuss is just an excellent, eloquent writer. His narrative style in and of itself could make a compelling book. Add to that the fact that his characters are thoroughly developed and that his conflicts draw you in, and you’ve got one heck of a book.
I began following his blog during the years that I was waiting for book two, and it has proved to be an excellent source of entertainment, among other things. Rothfuss runs a fundraiser every year, and in the past three years he has raised over half a million dollars for a charity called Heifer International.
Book two turned out even more beautiful than book one. However, I must warn you; the later third of book two contains a rather copious amount of sex. Enough sex to make a lot of my friends rather uncomfortable. Enough sex that you can’t skip over it without missing a huge chunk of the story. Enough sex to make me blush.
Sure, some of it is sex just for the sake of sex. However, a lot of it is important to either Kvothe’s development as a character, or to some deep thematic statement. A large part of it takes place with a character called Felurian, who is the faerie equivalent to a greek goddess of love and fertility. She lures Kvothe into the Fae realm, and they spend several months enjoying a rather boundless woodland romance. Oh, and they also have a wizard battle, after which Kvothe negotiates his escape. (Actually, I believe the technical term is “a conflict of advanced sympathy and naming,” but “wizard battle” sounds cooler.)
The rest of the sexual content takes place during Kvothe’s fight training under the Adem, and is there for the sake of a philosophical statement about culture. The Adam have no qualms about sex or nudity. At all. There aren’t really any boundaries, other than making sure that your partner has no disease (about which they are obsessive.) However, music and singing are to them as sex is to us. Music is private and intimate. And, as Kvothe is a lute player, often playing in taverns or inns for the price of a few silver jots, the Adem see him as the worst kind of whore.
Honestly, I found the whole scenario quite clever.
Rothfuss also uses the Adem as a vessel for his obsession with feminism. With the Adem, the women are usually in charge (with a few exceptions). While being every bit as lethal in combat as the men, they are less hindered by pride and anger. Rothfuss compares men and women to swords. Is a sword better the bigger and thicker it is? Really, the effectiveness of a sword is based on the way it is wielded, and women wield their smaller, lighter bodies with dizzying skill.
Personally, I have no problem with feminism, to a point. I’m all for equality. Where I get annoyed is when people try to take it farther, and tip the scale in the other direction. Rothfuss, for the most part, doesn’t try to to that. And when he does, it’s only for the sake of making a point. I’ve never really thought much about feminism until now, but it’s something I shall have to study further.
Anyways, I think my mom wants her laptop back. I’m going to have to save up a little cash and take my computer to the shop, so it might be a little while before I can get back into an internet routine. I hate not being able to journal or even work on my stories. Sigh…
Later all,
Kenneth
P.S. Please forgive any tyops. I don’t feel like proof reading tonight.
Here, hide your Echinacea pill in this lovely spoon full of apple sauce. You won’t even notice the overpowering taste of moldy herbs!
Sunday, March 06, 2011, at home
What do I know about church? My past writings on this topic have been harsh at best. A little over a year ago I said this:
“The church is superficial—a gathering of the misguided, who treat religion like a hobby and have mistaken the Great Commission for the building of nice facilities, the preaching of sermons and the singing of songs. Every Sunday hundreds of people listen to sermons and believe that it was exactly what God wanted to say to them individually, which is obviously impossible, unless they are all carbon copies of each other. They may very well be exactly that. The church is full of completely unremarkable people, in whose lives the average twenty-four hour period consists of nothing but going to work during the day, watching TV in the evening, sleeping through the night and doing exactly the same thing the next day. They are, of course, living every moment for the glory of God. It is as though they think that their completely insubstantial lives were somehow making God happy.”
Can I just say, for the record, that I made that statement from a place of despair and frustration? I spent years devoting myself to the teachings of the church, the teachings by which my parents raised me. My parents are wise, loving people, but I began having problems with the church about the time I realized that “My mom and dad say so” wasn’t good logic.
Yeah, the church is full of superficial people. Yeah, it’s also full of misguided people. But it’s not without its wise and intelligent people.
I’ve pontificated about the church’s merits and flaws enough in the past. I don’t go to my church because I believe in everything they believe; I go because I love the people. That includes their flaws and misconceptions. That includes the people whose deepest thoughts are mostly about football. That includes the people more intelligent than myself. Even the intelligent people who have misconceptions that they should have seen through years ago. Do I resent them for being stupid sometimes? Yes. But heck, I’m stupid sometimes. All the time. Lord knows I’m not the most qualified person to be appraising the church.
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: everything in life is both good and bad, both bitter and sweet. We can try all we like to cull the sweet out of the bitter, but it’s only partially effective at best. You can’t go to church and expect to find all truth and no confusion. Nor can you avoid the bad stuff without missing out on the good stuff.
Sure, a lot of the time church sucks. But sometimes, like this morning as I sang in the choir, the church is beautiful. The sound of a thousand voices singing, “And as He stands in victory, sin’s curse has lost its grip on me,” combined the sight of a thousand hands raised, is truly awe striking. Two women were dancing freely at the altar, both professionally trained with a local ballet company. I knew one of them. She is young, newly engaged, and just barely recovered from a broken leg. I saw the strain in her eyes as she fought past her injury, yet her dancing was done with great abandon; she may have had one physical hindrance, but there were none in her heart. I did not know the other woman by name, but I know her to be a long time veteran and teacher of the same school that taught the younger girl. She too fought past some physical hindrance, though I’m not sure what exactly. I think her health recently robbed her of her dancing, and she only does so now with great pain.
You have no idea how beautiful these things are until you see them. Yes, church is often quite lame, but it is not without its beauty, just like everything else in the world.
Later all,
Kenneth
Manure Trees and Saruman’s Penguin Hordes
Monday, February 28, 2011, at school
So today at school, on the way to algebra, I saw this:
You’ve got to love the time of year when the Bradford Pear trees start blooming. I like Spring, mostly. Once the temperature gets up over seventy degrees, I start getting uncomfortably warm. I’m a big guy, and I perspire easily. I’ve always thrived in Winter’s frigidity. A sight like this, however, is enough to make me forgive the rising temperature. Temporarily.
It took me all day to figure out that Bradford Pear trees smell like manure. I kept walking past them and thinking, “Dang, those are beautiful. Dang, what is that terrible smell?” But I never really paid it much heed, and I figured that maintenance had been doing some gardening and used some of that soil with manure in it. But, as you can see from the picture, none of that soil is fresh. Finally, after having walked down the above pathway of beauty and stink at least five times, I pulled down a lush white blossom and sniffed it. Then I smirked and had a moment of, “Well it looks like we’ve…” *epically puts on sunglasses* “…found our man.”
Thursday, March 03, 2011, mid morning, before school
Gah. I stayed up until nearly three AM last night writing a paper for Western Civ. class. It wasn’t that I particularly hated writing the paper. On the contrary, I quite enjoyed it. Mrs. Huff let us all pick from her stash of National Geographic magazines and pick an article to report on. If anything, the experience gave me a new goal in life: be a photographer for National Geographic. However, what bugged me was the fact that I let it sneak up on me and cost me a couple hours of sleep. I like writing papers for Mrs. Huff. Though she does require me to adhere to standard MLA format (which I always resent), she isn’t looking for your standard “Thesis, body, conclusion” format. She just wants you to collect some information and write it down. It’s a very effective form of studying, to say the least.
So I wrote about South Georgia.
Not the one sandwiched between Alabama and Florida, mind you, but the island just east of the Antarctic Peninsula and the tip of South America. The one Captain Earnest Shackleton escaped to in a twenty foot, patched up lifeboat after being stranded near the south pole for sixteen months. The one that was home to one of the worlds largest seal populations before industry drove them to the brink of extinction in the early 1800’s, a time when a single ship could bring home as many as 57,000 pelts.
I think that the wildlife has mostly recovered in recent years. In particular, the penguin population seems to be spreading like a virus.
It’s like they’re playing Where’s Waldo, or something.
Well, that’s all for now. This was a very strange post. To me, anyways. I started it out with a picture of blooming Bradford Pear trees and ended it with a picture of a penguin army the size of Saruman’s Uruk hai horde. Also, sorry this has taken me so long. I’ve been busy reading The Wise Man’s Fear (an incredible fantasy book that I’ll discuss further at a future date).
Later all
