Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Story Project Introduction

This is the Story Project: Collect, Record, and Archive stories told by various people. Get them on video, or audio, of them telling a story. Right now I am collecting the stories on my Flip camera. 

This was something I wrote a while back when I still wanted to publish the stories in a book. It was too be an introduction to the book, and also I could go back and remind my self of my goal. Right now my aim is to get video of the people telling the stories themselves, and publish them on the internet, but I will present the introduction I wrote for the book here in its original form.



The idea behind this entered my mind when I was in middle school. I realized how much of what I do revolved around stories. We read them, study them, analyze them, write them. All of this is during school; Almost all of my classes revolve around stories -- English and Social Studies in particular, but every class contained stories, even math (that may have just been my teacher).

But stories exist on more then just an education side. They are social. The oral story, the oldest form of the story, is arguably the most popular. Even if people do not realize it, they tell stories all of the time. Stories are most often only a few sentences long. A popular website, FMyLife.com allows users to submit their anecdotes and stories of day-to-day crap. They are hilarious. Other websites like OneScentence and PostSecret also allow submission on what is, in essence, a story. (PostSecret has plenty exceptions, but you get the idea). If you start paying attention, you can catch yourself telling people stories all the time. Whenever you talk about what you did last night, or how bad that test was, you are telling a story. Congratulations! You are a storyteller!

Stories are a cultures attempt at self preservation. They are memories. Preservation. Archiving. A lot of what I want to do with this story project is for the sake of not losing stories. Even fictional stories paint a picture of a real culture, or mindset, or situation. Some story may occur in space, but it’s message is about sanity and self realization. OK, Lets stick to nonfiction for the time being. Stories are a form of communication. You can tell someone you are doing ‘fine’, or you can tell them what you did in your day as a way to communicate how your day went. You want someone else to know how something went? Tell a story. Want to entertain someone? Tell them a story. Show them a story. Let them play a story. What are many video games but playable stories? Stories are the meat of a culture. The less stories there are, the less culture there is. Or at least less evidence of a culture. Stories influence. They bring people to realization and understanding. Stories teach. They teach morals and they teach guidance and they teach you how stuff works. The bible is a collection of stories.

I noticed stories from a young age, having the revelation in middle school, and I would always save my favorites, and re tell them. A lot involved “A friend”, but more often they could only be told well in First Person. So I would start the story with a censor, explaining it wasn’t mine, but rather a friends, and I am telling it in first person for the sake of the story. After a while, my friends understood this, so when they asked me to Tell them a story (or usually, that story -- wanting to re-hear a specific one), I would just pick one out of my bank and tell it. Other people, who did not understand the ownership, would overhear them and I became a curious entity, a not-so-unpeculiar person with a massive amount of fantastic stories. Some friends got mad that I ‘stole’ their story. When I realized what was happening, I stopped telling stories that were not mine (I always felt bad for ‘stealing’ them anyway). I only tell other peoples stories with permission now. Anyway, The stories here are (probably) presented in First Person, as they were told in first person. I give credit unless the person doesn’t wants credit. The tellers know they are being recorded, and that the recordings may be published in text or audio. I may do minor editing for clarity/understanding purposes. Some of the stories are mine. Sometimes I record without them knowing, then ask them if I can publish the story. (They can listen to it, choose to have bits [names] edited and changed). This way the person tells the story without worrying about the recorder, which I quickly noticed discerned people. Stage fright maybe, or the stress of having the story they are telling be ‘The Official Version’. Anyway, everyone involved knows about the stories, and I have not stolen any. In fact, a few fantastic ones I was not allowed to publish. Darn.

I need to thank again everyone who has told me stories, whether or not they made it into this book. Selecting specific stories to publish is hard, but in the the spreading of stories is all worth it.

Some of the stories do not have names, If so, they are referred to by the chapter, or story number.

I need a synonym to story, because I have typed that word way too many times in this introduction.

Story Harvesting

I was talking to some friends the other day when one of them remarked on how easy it was to tell stories
with me. I smiled, I had been caught! I explained that I had been doing my damn best to drive the conversation towards storytelling. I have written about how awesome stories are before, I will post that here once I find the piece and edit it a bit. Anyway,  He asked me how I was able to get people telling me stories, when they otherwise would be too shy or quiet. I didn't really have an answer. I knew I was consciously making an effort to get stories to be told, but when I say that... it's not quite right. It's not being subvert and hidden, secretly manipulating people to tell me stories in order for me to satisfy a disturbing fetish like itch, a quest for, a need for stories. Yeah, it isn't that. What it is, is just having a conversation with people. Conversations with me tend to have more stories being told, if it is that type of conversation. Making sense? Other types of conversation may be trying to figure something out, helping someone with a problem, discussing events. My favorite type of conversation is the one that occurs at get together's and reunions. They occur at Stake n' Shakes at 2am. People passing stories around a table. Someone tells something about a teacher, and that reminds someone else of something that happened, and stories are flying back and forth. The conversation just happens, I don't manipulate it into happening. Every once in a while, I just give it a shove or boost along. I guide it lackadaisically, and with little conscious thought in the effort. Everyone else is guiding it to, its how social interaction works.

I guess what I am saying is that when I socially interact, I am prone to move conversations towards storytelling. Other people (or other times I) may move them towards productivity, or learning something new. Get what I am saying?

All of that said, how do you guide a story conversation along? Well. I don't really know. But If I did know, I would say to tell stories yourself, relax, and have a good time. Unlike other conversations, such as trying to get advice for something, you are not in control. Nobody is in control. Do not try to control, it is the worst thing you can do. Just let the stories happen, and soak in the goodness.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Dune

This homecrafted board game is madness






Thursday, May 26, 2011

Done, mofo’s

I am done with high school. Brebeuf Jesuit Preparatory school and it’s distorted society can now be a part of my history, not my life. (that’s an interesting philosophical contradiction, but you know what I am saying). The question is now what. My parents are not so subtly hinting towards a job, but I want to spend my summer doing… well not that.
I have a few projects to work on, the sketch videos, the book that will be finished eventually, (eventually!), working out/exercise, and the like. Hanging out with friends will also be a big one. Lots of open houses (aka grad parties everyone has) to attend. Already missed a few big ones I feel bad for missing.
Tomorrow I want to bring my ping pong table to school, set it up, and play it with my friend while everybody would be taking tests. Appropriate? No. Hilarious? yes.
Right then
DONE WITH HIGH SCHOOL FOREVER
(I hope)

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Damon fowler follow up

We are Jessica Ahlquist, Damon Fowler, and Harrison Hopkins: Three students fighting prayers in school. AUA : IAmA

Updates to this interesting story as it happens on the internet, i first posted about a few days ago. Reddit taking command, this show of communication is cool.

Charcloth

Chatcloth is like charcoal, but in cloth form. One can use it for kindling or ... well, I don't really know what one uses it for, but my friend wanted some. Me, being his "neutral friend nearby with a firepit" was between he first and fourth person he went to for assistance. He arrived at my house and was honestly surprised wen I didn't know what charcloth was. By taking cotton, tightly packing it into a non airtight container and then heating it up gratuitously, charcoal is easy to make.

Even so, it still doesn't explain what he wanted it for. With this kid, there is never an explanation.






Monday, May 23, 2011

This is Cool

I am typing this post on a 4.5 inch multitouch screen. That right. Bitches, no buttons. This uberthin screen is predicting my touch input and suggesting words for me to type fashion. I mean faster. I am listening to music stores digitally on a failure-proof system miles away. It is streaming through a number of satellites before it comes to this device and losslesly plays. In front of me is an episode of Sunny In Philly also being streamed from miles away, in full HD to my television set. The TV, by the way, is displaying a new HD image 60 times every second.

So that's kinda cool.

And after all that it failed posting on the first try. Boo.

Its an android

Typing this post on my new android Samsung infuse phone. The upgrade has has been long in waiting, necessity. Two finger typing isn't that bad, the text is predictive and when there is no text to predict, punctuation apears in the bar. Its neat. I tried swype, but had to switch away. Two years with old touchscreen, I'm just too used to the tap.
I think I put in a picture I just took, let's see how that turns out. It could make writing wins much easier.


Friday, May 20, 2011

Something Something Something Rapture

Chilling on Reddit tonight. I don’t frequent Reddit for my own reasons, but today I am reading up on the Rapture with the best news in town: Dipshits commenting on dipshits posts. But once you cut through the 98% of useless comments, some good discussion can be found. Anyway, here are some links for the day.

Damon Fowler – High school Atheist living in the bible belt who complained about a school player. (I assume public school). The school stopped the prayer, but the community is lashing out at Damon. The internet is fighting on Damon’s side.

Related to the Damon thing:

Related to the Rapture

If, of course, you honestly wanted to know what the rapture was, you can

A: Google it. I got these results:

B: Click this

C: Follow the knowledge of two girls I was walking behind, listening to, after school today

“So the world is going to end tomorrow?”
”No, Only terrorists believe that”

I kid you not.

D: None of the above, because you are too busy grieving over Macho Man Randy Savage, RIP.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Writing down every damn thought

My friend and I are toying with the idea of creating some sketch comedy pieces. He had previously (ok, still does) consider the genre a dirty style of comedy, but I pointed out that it isn’t dirty. Only concise. I am wary to do it because I am a perfectionist and I don’t want to make crap.
But we probably will, which leads us to our next problem. The ideas. We have them already, but will always have more. I have one central collection notebook which acts as a fishing net for all of my ideas and such. Stefan uses some app on his IPhone. But going thru my notebooks, it was very annoying to filter the different ideas. So from here on out I am carrying a second (lighter, thinner, paperback) notebook (moleskin, of course) to take comedy notes down while other notes go in the reporter style notebook as always. I have rocked separate notebooks before, when I carried ‘the list’ which is a list of movies that I want to see, reminding myself.
As for the sketches, we will try and balance strait up sketches with more vloggy, sitcomy, play ourselves-ey, humor, which also there are lots of ideas for. It should be very funny, but can we master lighting, camera work, editing, and make it look good?

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Quote Time

“My courses were all selected with a very definite aim in view, with a serious purpose in mind, No classes before eleven in the morning or after two-thirty in the afternoon, and nothing on Saturday at all. On that rock was my education built.” – Robert Benchley

Found on one of my favorite blogs here.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

The Truth

The Truth.
"So lets recap: There is a lady that works over at that restaurant, which you cannot for the life of you remember the name of. She is a waitress, and you a regular customer. One day, as she is waiting on you, she gives you a little wink. Nothing more. Just a wink. And you--being the interpretive type--come back to the restaurant later in the evening, 'just to get a drink'. You meet up with this lady, and you talk, and have fun talking. You cant remember anything that is being said?


This is a wonderful story. But you must realize that the entire story is false. the entire reality is a figment of your imagination. What do I mean? You are imagining the entire thing. It did not happen, it is not happening, it will never happen. Sorry."


That’s what the psychologist told me. His name is Jim, he has short, trimmed hair and stands a few comfortable inches above me. And I tell him what is on my mind. He generally proceeds to tell me I'm wrong, and that I need to conform. to be like everyone else. To think normal thoughts, to have normal dreams. To understand that reality is reality, and fiction is fiction. I tell him no, reality can become fiction, and fiction reality.
the psychologist, a strait shooter, politely and sincerely asks me to give him an example. Can i provide an example where fiction has become reality? I ask him if he remembers Alexander the Great. The Psych says "Yes, he was one of the most brilliant strategic minds ever to live, he--" I interrupt him there. “How do you know he lived?” the psych sees where I am going. History is unconfirmed. And isn’t it easy to blend mythology with history? Aren’t myths based on history? Which is which?


History is fiction. Somebody wrote history. Were this persons writings, and the actual events that happened, one in the same? the very well may have been. But you, a smart and sensible psychologist as yourself can not tell me to my face that every single event that has ever been written down in any book, ever, is 100 percent, completely accurate. what about, say, propaganda? How much propaganda have we successfully identified as such? Certainly more of the enemies than our own! How much is being fed into us as we speak? When 2% of a country tells the other 98% what happened, what’s stopping the 98% from saying: How do you know? How do I know? Because you told me.
The psychologist, he says: "you hold a valid point, but history is irrelevant to your current situation." how so? I ask, tying not be be prying. Jim, or Joe, or John, or whatever his name was, his reply was simple: "you can not merely think of something, and have that thought become reality. It defies rules of the way the universe functions." I tell him I agree, a small smirk pops onto his face, he is waiting for more. But in vein. I tell him that no, I cant think something into an actual event, but, I can make every single relevant person believe that this event has taken place, and thus the exact same response, the same reaction is generated. There is, say, 1 year later, or even a few hours later, when the event has passed into memory, no difference in any noticeable, or discernible way between what actually happened, and what...actually happened. It’s the reaction, not the action, that matters. An action takes seconds and involves few people. A reaction, or the memory of an action lasts for much longer, involves infinite many people, and can be manipulated. 


There is no such thing as now. It is a pleasant way of explaining things, but sadly, there is no such thing. Only future and past, and I am not so sure of future. Disappointing, I know. Just take the following few statements: Time is relative, reality is observation, light needs to move to reach somewhere, your brain makes predictions on moving objects that it presents you, and lags on reaction time, and merges it into one ‘now’. Now, with that swirling in your mind, (especially that time is relative bit) you will eventually come to the conclusion that there is no now.


James, which was in fact the psychologist name, or at least he responded to that name, leading me to believe it was his, James chuckled to me. He told me that I, am merely saying that by mastering the art of the lie, I can force a lie into the minds of the listeners, and let them believe its true. He had to say that word. Lie. Such an ugly word, bent and deformed, and misused beyond the dictionaries true intent, so much so the dictionary added more definitions for the word lie in order to appease the users: to deceive, to trick, not to tell the truth. I will give him that much, these realities that are so apparently part of my mind, they are not the truth. yet. but they soon will be. They will be fact. 100% to the bone verifiable fact. and then, at that point, it really doesn't matter what has actually taken place.


I stand up and tell James I have to go to the bathroom. He tells me that's that OK, and I that the restrooms are on the left, two doors down. thank you I reply, but when I leave the door I turn right. go to the water fountain, take a drink, and walk back into the room.
"one of the sinks has a broken sensor." James says, as I walk back into the room.
"hmm, I didn't get that one" I say, knowing that that was just a test, to see if I did really go to the bathroom. you see, I left out one small, teensy, regardless, detail in the above story. I did go to the bathroom. I did not go to the water fountain. What do you believe? Did I go to the bathroom, or the fountain? Does it matter? No. It doesn’t.

(i did go to the bathroom, in case your curious).

We talk about dreams, or some other jargon for the remaining 15 minutes, and then a buzzer lightly rings, the session is over. I stand up, and shake James' hand. "Thanks Jim" I say. he reply's that his name is actually James. I replied: "what's in a name?".


There really was a lady in a restaurant, and i really did return later.
I really did go to the bathroom.
The psychologist’s name was actually James.
and that is the truth.

 

I sat down to write some funny for my book. I though a (bad) pathological liar talking to a psychologist could be funny, constantly changing his story, etc. I ended up with this piece of philosophical crap. It isn’t crap, it just isn’t funny, and I need some funny!

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Communication

There are four primary types of communication. Here they are in order of importance.
The first is one-to-one (1-1). This is also known as conversation, and simplifying it would be telephone conversation.
The second is one-to-many conversation (speech). Holy shit we have a lot of this. Speech, broadcasting, television, radio, magazines, advertisements, etc.. This is the most existent type of communication, but not the most popular by choice.
The third is many-to-one. The best example of this is democracy. While this communication is not great, it’s methods are being improved on every day, and some of these methods are what i am here to talk about in this article.

The last is many-to-many. Before the dawn of the Internet, the best example of this type of communication [that I can think of] would be a food fight. Put people in a room, and they will break into small 1-1 and 1-few conversations, or perhaps a 1-many, if that 1 spoke loudly enough. What is surprising from a philosophical point of view, but not from a practical point of view, is why this large group does not break into many-to-many conversation? The reasons are simple.

To have many-many conversation, one must have order. With the food fight/disorderly classroom examples of many-many conversation, the second law of thermodynamics takes its place, and while people fight to be heard and have a voice (to become 1-many, or 1-1), the volume level increases, and disruption happens. When 1-many fails, the 1 tries nearby 1-few (who can hear him) and such continues in a way that, while complicated conversation that may weave in and out of smaller conversations, is decidedly not many-many. Simpler conversation is easier.

In some cases, a 1-many can be classified as a few-to-large, and yes, this is many-many conversation, it isn’t really the point that I am making and is just arguing semantics.
How does one get this order? Before, well, technology-- it was difficult. There were no channels to use. So it didn’t happen. Now, I can give you a prime, perfect, and wonderful example of many-many conversation that nearly all of you have taken place in: Wikipedia. (Wiki’s in general). With the Wiki, a central thread is open to be read by the masses, but instead of being written by one person (1-many, as it were) it would be written and collaborated on by many. With things such as moderators, version control, and *cough*respect*cough*, the inevitable hassling and annoyances of a few untrustworthy few can be canceled out, and as Wikipedia has demonstrated, the concept of many-many can be successful. With the right control, moderation, interference, and editing, many-many conversation is not only possible, but practical. Who doesn’t love Wikipedia? Look at the amount of information it has been able to generate, store, and give out! It is a lot -- a LOT of information. Behold the power of many-many communication. A lot of power, ideas; in a little amount of time. It has worked better (efficiency) than the many-one approach of regular encyclopedias. many submit in information, which is reviewed and published by one (turning around to become one-many upon publishing). In a way encyclopedias are almost many-many. They are many-one-many; Which is close, and encyclopedias do have a lot of information, but does not quite cut it in achieving this cooperative powerhouse or general efficiency/speediness. Even so, encyclopedias are still impressive.

While I have yet to explain the explicit benefits of this sort of conversation, I hope it is apparent. Wikipedia power can be unleashed upon the world. Through collaboration, we can succeed. Succeed is an ambiguous word, and rightly so, as I can inherently not be specific enough to elaborate.

There are several methods of many-many conversation I can present to you, in a way to catalog these, and hopefully develop a feasible model that us humans can use to our advantage.

The first is a wiki. A Google Wave. a public whiteboard/bulletin board. A shared Google doc. Or some other form of real time collaboration, with version control.
Many-Many-CentralBulliten1a

Another method is the thread. Above I brought up the example of the bulletin board. It is from this concept that, what can be considered the first electronic many-many method of communication was created. This was the BBS. The Forum. The Threaded conversation. Essentially, each person would add their comments, their two cents, to the end of an article.original post. One person would start it, yes - so it could be many-to-1 (such as blog comments) but, just as blog comments often do (see reddit), threads thread out. The branch and break, and different people have different conversations, responding to different people. It varies, and can just be groups of 1-1 conversation inside on another, but often it is true many-many conversation in its development. People replying to multiple other peoples posts, and all relating to an original subject.
Many-Many-Threaded1bOne last method I do not have the expertise to comment on is Source Control, as in programming (SVN, GIT, etc.).

I hope you are starting to get my drift. People: We have the technology. Google docs, Google Wave, Wiki’s, a giant whiteboard, all of this is available, free. Let us, as a collective, take advantage of the resources at our disposal and become more efficient. I am trying to use it, but my attempts at real time collaborative writing in Google docs usually fail because not everyone is online at the same time. The tools still offer an advantage because not everyone needs to be present at the same time. I hope to start more projects that try and take advantage or many-many conversation. I hope you do too. Lets try it and see what happens, see what needs changing, development, refinement.
In the spirit of experimentation, here is the link to the Google Doc where I wrote this. It is public and anyone can access and edit, for example, if a reader out there knows something about Github and wants to offer his opinions. I will republish it here if anything interesting happens. Such as someone actually, positively, editing it.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1acZU8JmkJtegiKR8mnaGsU0Uw41UBd_Q3bslNduWnms/edit?hl=en&authkey;=CJ76vPwN

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Back on Facebook

I deleted my Facebook account a while back for two few main reasons: I was spending way too much time on it, and I didn’t like the way Facebook was handling my privacy.

While I still don’t like the latter, school is all but over now – finished my last AP test, decided on college, etc. So, with the anticipation of a new android smart phone (sync with contacts), I have returned to Facebook. Primary goal: Keep in contact with my friends. Secondary goal: Use it in college when making friends. So I basically returned to Facebook for the same reason, to stay in contact. It’s a shame that the tool that so many people use to stay in contact is so locked in and un-open.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Still Life with Woodpecker

Came across an interesting quote while reading Tom Robbins Still Life With Woodpecker, which was published in 1980, if I am right.

I’m not so far gone that I expect technologists to be interested in designing machines for artists—why, if novelists got wooden typewriters, poets would demand that theirs be ice. What is more likely is that technology will bypass artists, that a day is coming when our novels will be written by computers, the same devices that will paint our murals and compose our tunes. If I’m chuckling, it’s because I’m imagining a computer, programmed to produce logical variations on the eighteen possible literary plots, U;m imagining that computer trying to deal with what happened in Leigh-Cheri’s attic. If I’m chuckling, it means that the Remington SL3 had better watch its P’s and p’s and Q’s and q’s

--Tom Robbins, Interlude after chapter 17, Still Life With Woodpecker. (click here)

Dancing With Hands

I found this article while doing some research on club juggling. It compliments this post I wrote a while back. Yeah, its juggling related. Ignore if you please.

I turned 18

Well, I have done it. I have survived for 18 years, and a day. About. I never thought I would get this far. That isn’t a morbid thought, it’s just I have trouble thinking about the future in anything more than broad ‘I will be in college, whoa!’ sense. It’s a surprise that I am still here.
So do I feel more mature? Older? More awesome? Short answer: No. I will enjoy my privileges Thursday nights while hanging out at a Bdubs. They try and make us require parental guardians. Well, fuck you! I’m 18 now! Ha-ha! Sticking it to the man!
As far as gift go, I now have 2 24” monitors, as opposed to a 24” and a 19”. It’s a nice change. I got steam balance I have yet to spend, and some cheap juggling clubs. Think bowling pins. I can not wait to continue practicing with the clubs. Juggling them makes me feel like a juggler, a performer. It is a good feeling.
One of the reasons juggling is so impressive is because anyone can do it. Nobody hasn’t once held a ball in their hands, and tossed it in the air. Us jugglers just take this to an extreme. I agree, It’s pretty awesome. Clubs are more for performing, while ball juggling is more for skill. Now, it is all for performing, but juggling balls one has to develop their skills to surpass other jugglers, focusing on the talent aspect. The talent aspect is why I like it so much. Club juggling is more for performing. It obviously requires talent, that’s why its awesome, It is much more visual than ball juggling. To put it in other words, it’s the mindset of the juggler. When inventing new ball tricks, they are layering patterns in new and interesting ways. When inventing club tricks, its just “What would look cool”. This isn’t perfect (it isn’t dipolar), but I am moving on.
I am going skydiving! I don’t know where or when, but that’s pretty motherflipping awesome. I will also learn how to fly. Also don’t have logistics of it, but…yeah.

Friday, May 6, 2011

How Road’s are Named

This is some general information everyone should know. I am by no means an expert, so please correct me if I am wrong anywhere.

Many places are in a grid. Generally, numbers for roads going one way and letters for their perpendicular counterpart. for Indianapolis and beyond, numbered roads go east/west and named roads go north/south but are not alphabetical such as with DC.

In Indianapolis, you tell people where you are by first saying the numbered road, then the nearby cross named road, and then another nearby larger named road. Confused? Shouldn’t be. I live at 106th and Town, west of Meridian. (note: Township line road becomes town at 96th street. You can be at 96th and township or 96th and town, but 96th and town is preferable)

As you go north, farther away from downtown, the numbers go up. Roads are numbered by (more or less) linear distance away from the city --away from what would be 0th street but is Market street. In the city, we lose the numbered convention. Confusing streets are North, East, South,and West street. Its confusing because when we see a north in a road name it usually means that that road runs north of south. For example, “West 86th st”. it goes east/west and is farther west of the center of Indianapolis then east 86th street is, although it’s the same street. I can be on South street West and West street South. Don’t be confused. South street is SOUTH of the center (circle center). West street is WEST of the center. South Street West means I am south west of the center, driving east or west.

The other tricky part is knowing which roads are one way or not, but if all else fails just start driving in circles until you find a road going in the direction you want. Knowing one way roads is just practice. There probably is a logical system behind it, but I don’t know what that is (maybe it alternates or is optimized for traffic flow).

Now on to neighborhoods. Unless you live in one of those strange houses that are right off of a main road (always a friend or aunt, never you, right?), you live in a neighborhood. It might be gated, or have some fancy entrance. It might not be marked in any distinguishable way, but driving along all the speed limits have dropped to 30 and kids and bikers and dogs litter the sidewalks, which also just appeared. People put houses near other houses.

Prepare for some knowledge to be imparted to your face:

  • A road connects to points. Maybe two towns.
  • A street is within a town/city/area. It is often lined with homes or buildings and has driveways sticking out of it.
  • A drive can be like a long driveway leading up to a house or cluster of houses. Often, a drive connects back to the street you turned off to get onto the drive, similar to triple digit highways.
  • A way is a small, or minor road that may or may not connect anything
  • A court usually ends with a cul-de-sac (type thing) and most often will make you turn around, although other roads can connect to it (so it may not be dead end)
  • A boulevard (BLVD) is a wide, pretty road with nice things to look at and often has big sidewalks with trendy restaurants that have small round tables to sit at and watch the angry drivers go by. median down the center, multiple lanes. (maybe)
  • An avenue has trees on the side. It is lined with something or other pretty and most likely foliage.
  • An alley or alleyway is between buildings, and you probably can’t drive there.
  • Bay,Gardens,Manor,Passage,Pathway,Place,Terrace,Trail,View and others are all names for small roads, most likely suburban.
  • Cul-de-sac’s are probably court, but can also be cove, green, or place
  • Some people like to be cool and name roads from what they look like: Crescent, Circus, Circle, Loop
  • Some are geographical in nature (get it?): Canyon, Causeway, Grove, Heights, Hill, Knoll, Mount, Parkway
  • Some are named for function: Way, Bypass, Loop, Plaza, Walk.

And now you know. Use this information to prevent you from getting lost in your friends neighborhood! Or, whatever.

Highways are an altogether different matter, but much simpler because there are accepted standards.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

A real conversation I really had

a real conversation I just had on Skype
William Juan: >.>
William Juan: you're a COMP SCI major aren't you?
Hunter Dyar: im a high schooler
Hunter Dyar: i dont have a major
Hunter Dyar: >.>
William Juan: ............
William Juan: wow
William Juan: fail
William Juan: >.>
William Juan: how can you not have a major?
William Juan: you're a freakin' SENIOR
Hunter Dyar: i dont know what i want to do
William Juan: indecisive peole
William Juan: people
William Juan: gosh
Hunter Dyar: i like to do a loot of stuff
Hunter Dyar: i am eclectic
William Juan: You should at least PICK something
William Juan: you can change your mind
William Juan: but PICK something god damn it
Hunter Dyar: and do what with it? fondle it inside my brain?
Hunter Dyar: what good will picking it do?
William Juan: Well you can declare a major
William Juan: and start trying something particular
Hunter Dyar: where do i declare one, as a high schooler
William Juan: instead of doing a bunch of random crud
William Juan: On the application form...
William Juan: >.>
William Juan: what the hell?
William Juan: I'm a definite Math major
Hunter Dyar: psh
William Juan: Whatever
William Juan: I learned how to ride a bike today
William Juan: again
Hunter Dyar: what?
William Juan: Well I forgot you see
Hunter Dyar: you cant ride a bike?
William Juan: so Matt taught me.
William Juan: I DID
Hunter Dyar: never seen you on a bike
William Juan: and then I didn't ride for like 6 years
William Juan: so then I didn't know how

Introduction the book.

Again. I will probably make that one a forward and this the intro. Or something. Whatever.

I often do my writing in public. I use a red moleskine notebook. Often I am capturing scenery with my mighty pen, transferring from my perception to your perception through verbose input the innate beauty of the natural world and its inhabi—aw fuck it. Who am I kidding? That fucker over there looks like a polish Gwen Stefani crossed with a transvestite shark!

I wonder what people think of me as I write? Aspiring novelist? Amateur poet? Songwriter? Technical notes? Maybe the journal is filled with bullshit business jargon such as “synergize” or “virtualization” and contains hastily drawn flow charts labeled “ROI” or “doability”. Maybe I am an artist, a creative master of literary  presentation or penetrating penmanship. Perhaps I am writing up travel experiences or a cookbook. Perhaps a collection of inspiring vignettes of my difficulties in overcoming diversity and inadvertent corruption. Perhaps this notebook is my teenage diary of ill fated romances and melancholy drama.

I bet none of them expected the writing to be this motherfucking stupid.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Church Time

My memory of church isn’t a pleasant one. This  isn’t for any legitimately unpleasant reason (arguably) its just that I stopped going to church in about sixth grade. Being what all except probably myself would consider a child at the time, I took advantage of my god-given whining ability to complain for hours on end and absolutely hated church. I bet I went most often in fourth grade.
This is an average church procedure:
Wake up at an obscenely early hour for the weekend, If not for church I would be sleeping back to the single digits of the day. I would be woken up by my mom. My mother, I will note, hated going to church as much as I did but was compelled by religious burst of her husband that roughly coincide with his calls back to family. Then it put on uncomfortable and ill fitting clothes. After presenting self to family, go back and put on even more uncomfortable and ill-er fitting clothes that also now restrict airflow to that of ferret. So we finally are crusaded into the suburban, and off to church we go! woo! After struggling to find a parking spot – we were the last ones regularly – we would find a seat behind the overeager singers and adjacent to an entire family with gastrointestinal issue. During the preceding, the (what do you call him?) dude reading from the book would tell us to stand up. Then sit down. Then stand up. Then kneel. Now stand again, ok sitting time. Just kidding, stand your ass back up. I think he is messing with us. Probably punishment for not showing up often enough. Why is it my legs get very tired during church but I just spent 2 hours standing while practicing juggling just fine? What is this? Church just makes you tired. and bored. I will probably become very intimate with one of the stained glass murals. I may also study the strange outfits of people, or try and count the number of sneezes/coughs as a test of my hearing. I was bored. I think at one point we all shuffled to get our snacks. Waiting for this moment (did he just say ‘this is my blood’? Here it comes!) is ultimately disappointing. Any attempts to save or christbody is fruitless, because saliva dissolves starch. Still tried every time. Also, the christblood was legit wine, so that’s was cool. After what eventually degraded into naptime, The kids would leave to have their own instructional time. What the adults did could only be speculated. One kid thought orgy, but only because he heard someone else (yes, older) say it about a party and thought it was a party game. I always believed that at this point, the charade would be lifted and church would stop being boring. That all of the boring stuff the adults sat through as a secret way of torturing us for all those years of leaving popsicles places or asking them to hold things for us. During this time I would chat with Emily Knebel, my third grade sweetheart. I wonder where she went? Maybe this post will pop up if she ever searches for her name. If so, email me Emily! hunter@hdyar.com! Tokeneke Elementary, St. Luke’s parish, you know if its you! (edit: I found her and we are penpal-ing it up)
(ed: I think I found her, but I deleted my Facebook and cant dig deeper. Ok, stop stalking, resume church rant)
I actually can’t remember what else I did. We played games and losers lost because they didn’t love Jesus enough, or something like that. I would head home and strip off the agonizingly irritating clothes and probably spend the rest of the day in just my boxers, cus, you know, putting on pants is way too much effort.

Monday, May 2, 2011

HP spectrum Analyzer

DSCN0327
If anybody has any more information on this newly acquired toy, I am all ears. 3580A HP Spectrum Analyzer.
I believe if I use an FM to AM converter, I can use this baby as an oscilloscope. Spectrum uses Amplitude, while oscilloscope uses frequency, the A and F’s in AM and FM. Must investigate further.
edit: found the manual! http://www.scribd.com/doc/23786937/HP-3580A-Spectrum-Analyzer – Isn’t the internet great?

Juggling to music

I always listen to music when I juggle, but  once I am ‘in the zone’ and cognitively entirely focused on juggling, the music is ignored and/or drowned out. I watched a few juggling videos where the jugglers are juggling to music, and I have to say that it is stupid difficult. I like doing things that are difficult, but this may exceed my abilities.
As a side note, I am talking having virtually every throw in sync with the music, not just more-or-less going along with it.
When I throw a ball on the beat, that beat happens when the ball is released from my hand. That moment of disconnection. When you see the ball being thrown, you see the beat of the ball at the moment the ball begins its up path. This is after it leaves my hand. My ears hear the beat of the ball when I catch one.
But that can all be ignored, to an extent. If the pattern is continuous and aligned (more or less, close enough) to the music, then we will register it along with the music as one entity. It will groove. But throws can not all have the same hang-time. An overhand throw will have a longer hang-time than underhand, and, well, every throw is different. This is a huge pain in the ass.
End note: its hard!
If I ever do perform to music, I will probably not do it to some heavy beat stuff, I will let your ears drown the music out in favor of the stimulus presented by your eyes.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Mount and Blade: Warband - Day 5

This looks like a good thing! WOAH!This is the part where I should have been on day 1, The part where I succeed!
This day is played with one of my friends (over 600 hours in this game) looking over my shoulder and telling me where to click. Lets do this!

The first thing we did was upgrade my equipment and ride to a kingdom that didn’t hate me for repeatedly forcing supplies from its villages. Green colored people land, Here I come!
She'l be coming round the mountain when she comes!
A band of 14 mountain bandits attacked me. This is normally the point where a little bit of poop would appear in my trousers and I would think Oh no, more rape. My friend, over my shoulder looked at me and informed me “Attack”.
Attack I thought? I have been in this game long enough to know that wouldn’t work. My friend has an impressive beard and is therefore quite persuasive. Attack I shall.
Thats right, waste that ammo of yours!
“First let them run out of ammo. You can reload from a chest for more arrows. They can't do this, so just circle strafe until they run out.”
Zooming in to shoot - er - Zooming in to miss.
Circle strafing done (or so I thought), I prepared for my offense. Just need to find the chest.
Looking for the chest for about 8 minutes – a long time to run around randomly—eventually they got me.
Being dragged by my horse. My boobs probably took a beating from it
With an arrow to the face, one of the dirty AI’s must have been hoarding it. Like a bitch.
We recovered quickly, regained supplies, and approached some bandits again. Still no troops at my side, but I knew where my chest was this time. (Hit backspace at the beginning of a battle and take note). The strategy, after they ran out of ranged weapons, is to ride past them, and as they walked to me, shoot at them until they got close. Then then run again.
IN THE FACE!
The strategy worked so well, I witnesses something peculiar. This person was running away! Wimp! I chased him down and added a significant more metal to the composition of the back of his head.
Just a few left!
My first ever victory. It only took 6 hours of playtime.
Wait – What was this? My first victory! Ever!?! That it is good sirs. Hunter has taken his first step into the bloody ring of success. HoomotherfuckingRah! More victorys. Do I see a trend here?
I was on something of a roll. No challenge could surpass me.
With some more money from selling the bandits stuff, I purchased an aid. Also a ladies man. Seriously, just ask him!
Nazir, the overconfident sunofabitch who (do this day, many battles later) has yet to survive or die.You like like I do!
I also talked to a farmer,and decided to help him. See what that says there? This NPC is calling me a FEARSOME WARRIOR! I had to stop and blink a lot of times. Sure, I may by this time be known as something of a bandit hunter, but ‘fearsome warrior’ is just too much to ask. Since a little bit of flattery is all it takes to persuade me to do something, I said I would help him. ME: "Is this what having an army feels like?" FRIEND: "not even close"
My men, and the villagers ready to attack.
Nazir's horse is way to fucking fast
Prepare for an unexpected arrow TO THE FACECheer! We are victorious!
Victory! I took the supplies the villagers offered me (didn’t even think about declining. Friend said it would increase honor, and recommended it. He doesn’t know what my character’s butthole has been through. I took the supplies.
My next fight would not be an easy one. I was taking on 23 other men, and halfway through, 21 more bandits joined their side. It took 40 human minutes of fighting. run-run-run away! and then turn and shoot them! in the face!My horse has gained a few apendeges. I call him Chuck the unicorn.PROTIP: put the sheild on your back when you are running away from enemies.Except for the peasant battle, I have not won a single battle with anybody but me alive and conscious.
I kept fighting, but I had to remember my original mission. A wife to abuse love for ever and ever. I headed to all the castles I could, but no lady would even listen to me. Bitches be bitches
Bitches. I had to do something drastic. Like pledge my allegiance to the green-text-people! I did that! no help, but I did have fun losing all of my upgraded men in a joint battle with some orange-text-people.
ME: "Is this what having an army feels like?" FRIEND: "Still not even close"
Taking a break away from the battle. Letting the troops do the fighting.
My super one-man "flank and die" technique. Patent pending.The above photo is my epic flank of the enemy. I swung around (secretly!) and was quickly met by all of their archers turning around and shooting in to me, the drastically closer enemy. But hey – I did a damn good job of distracting them, and despite losing consciousness, we won the battle. Or, well, I did. All my men died!
I still had some drastic lady-problems, and Nazir was too injured to throw me a sloppy-second. I also needed some money.Fuck those similar looking but wearing slighly different clothing guys!
Winning the tournament did that! 200 prize, plus the 3980 moneys from placing bets on myself. But still, the bitches didn’t bite.
I decided to stop while I was ahead. I finally got out of the dress (probably a turn-off) and I am playing the game properly. Except for that I can’t seem to win a battle with any troops alive. Well, that’s a story for another day.

Mount and Blade: Warband Day 4

The day where I lose everything, gain it back, lose it, etc..
i have nothing

Why not any normal fucking names?
I began by heading over to Reyvadinpalinkalin. I assessed some prices and had to buy some fish so I could sell them somewhere else for a profit. That somewhere Else? At the bottom of the fecking desert. But I bravely marched on, like a boss.
Apparently you shouldn’t enter villages at night, because bandits will attack you.

Bandits attacked me.
Bandits are dicks
This tree saved my life for a while.
Take a note to all of the arrows on the left.
Unfortunately I had no arrows, or… well, anything, really.
I threw my knifes and then my rocks until I ran out. This happened a little too quickly. My only hope was to rush then for some fisticuffs, but, uh, It didn’t work. The bandits took all of my stuff, including my clothes and horse. So Not only do I not have a dress (and the boobs that come with it) I also do not have any dignity.


I will abbreviate what happened next in a few pictures that should sum it up.
Fuck the desertFucking fuck the desert





What do you mean no dignity? Look at those abs!

this was a common sight. Even the most pathetic of enemies are attacking me
2 weeks. 2 fucking weeks. That (in game) is how long I was bitch-handled across the desert by various groups coming to attack me. I had 0 moneys, 0 clothes, 0 dignity, 0…anything.
I had hit in-game rock bottom. It is impossible to do any worse in the game.
Well, FUCK!
I had to do something to get back on track!
I fought in the arena and got myself up to the point where I was able to buy a bow, some arrows, and a club. This took a while, but You got to do what you got to do. When I felt I had enough resources to lay on an attack,  I visited a village, recruited one peasant to fight with me, and then took a hostile action on that very same village.
Fuck the villagers!
They did not like it very much.
Oh dear. It appears your numbers far exceed my previous estimations. How about this, we put all this silly 'beat with clubs' nonsense behind us and just part ways for a while! No -- still at it with the clubs? Rats.
Who knew there would be so many peasants? There’s like, what? 3 buildings in the whole damn town! They must pack the kids into roofs or something, probably gaining some developmental disorder. I say that because my recruit was very useless when I turned him on his own people after all of 16 seconds of training.
Where did you all come from!?!
I was fighting them with the same club they were using to fight me. Really? How low can I go?
Apparently pretty low, because they killed me.go ahead and cheer. I have you all marked for future death.
As I lay there, dead, in my dress, probably about to get sexually molested (I do have boobs with the dress on), I decided I had to do something to get myself back on track. Again.
One lucky break up out of the desert, and I headed for the training fields. I alternated between the training fields (where I beat all levels of AI) and the arena, where I grinded and earned enough money to hire some more troops and some better weapons.Montage music should be playing right about nowerrr.. I suck on horseback'champion fighter' my ass! Beating people with a pole? That I can do!
At the same time I was also recruiting a few volunteers. Once again I took hostile action against a town and – it worked this time! They begrudgingly handed over their supplies!
SUCK IT, PEASANTS!
As a retrospective side note, one is supposed to keep food in their inventory, you know, for something to eat. Just letting all you people know. I found out the hard way.
I sold food for enough money to buy a horse. It is, of course, only a horse in the most technical of senses – 4 legs, neighing noises. Outside of that it is more comparable to an truck without tires, or perhaps a large rock. A large rock with little health, might I add.
While shuttling between villages and training field, I encountered a battle that I might be able to win. It would be my first victory. Challenge motherfucking accepted.
Ready for the smack-down?
Charge! . . . please!
There is some text in the bottom corner that says ‘battle advantage = –1’. I ignored that as I charged my untrained troops on! Huzzah!
My left speaker constantly informing me of arrows not hitting me.
The blurry things you see in the above image? Spears headed towards my head. Hundreds of them, I dodged most by strafing circles, letting my peasants get murdered. They killed a few of the enemy (the enemy probably laughing to death), but soon all of my men had died. No wounded. No unconscious. All dead.
Dont look up my dress
I suffered similar a treatment soon after.
So today I did worse than others thought possible. I want to tell you that I actually lightened this up a bit. I excluded a fair amount of lost battles, and I decided not to delve into the 2 weeks I spent in perpetual imprisonment in the desert. Fuck the desert. I need some help!
Stay tuned for tomorrow, where things turn around with some instruction from my friend.