I just looked up the definition of ode, and found out that it's supposed to be a poem. I don't write poems, therefore this ode will be poem-less (or perhaps oderless -- yes, I know it's spelled odorless).
I just wanted to publicly say how much I appreciate my wife. Everyday she amazes me in her stoutness of character. If she were a pioneer, she would make it for sure.
Words do not describe well enough how I feel for my wife. Sadly the word love has so many uses. I love cheese. I love to tango. I love my brother. All these are separate derivatives of the word, but the only one that doesn't seem like the word is suitable enough is: I love my wife. Sure you see it on a bumper sticker occasionally, and you casually say I love you to your spouse every time you are ending a phone conversation, but what about the times when you really want to express how you feel?
I guess the only good way to emphasize the phrase "I love you" is to couple it with answering "why?"
I would like to answer these, because 1) I know my wife will read this eventually (hopefully evoking a very feminine "awwwww"), and 2) I want the world to know how much she means to me too.
I find that it is easier to answer the question of why by using words as if I were speaking to her. So, for those of you who are not my wife, just read for the fun of it (I'll even give you permission to wish I was writing to you).
I love you because you are my best friend. You have cried with me in my darkest hours, and have laughed with me in the happiest. You have been there for me since the time that I met you (even when we were "just friends") even when any other friendship would probably not endure.
I love you because you are dependable (sounds like a quality on a resume). By dependable I mean that I can trust you with anything. I can depend on your advice, on your help, on your faith in me. I love that I have someone who almost always knows what to do in every situation.
I love you because you are patient. I know you are probably thinking "yeah right, I loose it with Natalie almost everyday," but you really do... so much more than me. I can think of a ton of examples, and then it would be a test of your patience just to hear them all. Mostly, you are patient with me. When I screw up, you forgive me. When I decide that my way is right, you are patient with me to wait until I come back to you and tell you that your way is better (by the way -- guys, if you haven't already figured it out, for some reason I cannot explain women have this far surpassing wisdom that is uncomprehensible by men, and only when a man figures this out will he truly be wise). I find that your advice is so important to me. It has always led me in the right direction.
I laugh at our silly fights, because they show that no matter how bad it gets we will always be there for each other. I remember when you decided to make chocolate milk. You had poured in so much at the bottom that it made a swirly effect on the sides of the glass. I made gesture that I wanted to see your glass and you recoiled defensively (never take chocolate milk away from a woman with cravings). The most rediculous argument ensued. We argued about chocolate milk and about why I should be able to see the chocolate milk that you made because it looked cool and yadda yadda yadda. I remember that after this fight, we just laughed at each other for having the stupidest argument ever. This is why I love you, because you don't let the inane things ruffle your feathers.
I love you because you are beautiful. Rooms light up when you walk in (or maybe there is a power surge in the electrical circuits -- then maybe you're just electrifying). The way you move is full of grace and beauty. Your hair is soft. Your legs are shapely and the skin so velvety. Your face melts my heart. Your face is where I find you most beautiful. I could look into your eyes forever and not get tired (like a staring match). I love to put my hand on the side of your face to feel you lean in and stroke my palm with your cheek. I think the clothes you wear make you look very attractive (however I will already admit (not to discredit this statement) that I am a little biased).
I love you because you are an excellent mother. I see the way Natalie adores you and goes to you. Sometimes I am jealous (other times I'm not -- like when she's throwing a tantrum). I see how much she loves you, even though she cannot say it. I see so much of your caring nature in her. I cannot think of a better woman to help raise my children than you. I am amazed at your capacity to love others in the way you do.
I will take that last sentence and start with it rephrased: I loved your capacity to love others. I think this is your most defining characteristic. To see the love you have for your mother and father, I feel sometimes as if I am in the presence of an angel. You have always shown the greatest love and consideration for others. I am so glad that I married you because I get to be a primary benefactor. Your willingness to serve your mom and dad like you have in the past years (2 years that I've witnessed, and all your life as far as I know) is remarkable. It speaks volumes about you. I feel that I owe your parents a great thank you for producing such a wonderful daughter.
I know I can go on forever telling you reason after reason why I love you, but I take comfort in the fact that you already know. I take comfort because you love me too (which is the most priceless thing I have ever found on this earth). I love you Melanie. I just wanted you (and everybody else) to know that.
Love,
Your Mann (and for those who are not my wife, you can omit this salutation)
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
The Emperors Club
So Mel and I watched The Emperors Club tonight ( http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0283530/ ) a movie about a School teacher trying to teach a deviant kid. One of the subjects of the movie is how Schools aren't supposed to teach morals, but just teach facts. I'm sitting here thinking about it, and I am asking myself why.
So I thought about what could have possibly caused rise to schools becoming less and less about character and more about just plain old facts. In the movie, the teacher goes to the boys father (a US Senator) to talk to him about his sons poor performance. The teacher makes a remark about how his classroom is to shape young minds, but that the senators son is refusing to be shaped, to which the senator responds that the teacher is not supposed to shape his son, "leave the shaping to me" he says.
So shaping is to be done by parents, to this I agree wholeheartedly. It is the primary role of the parents to teach morality, honesty, integrity (and a bunch more -itys). But I wonder if there is a rising problem: what about parents who don't care. These students may not receive the life-education that's needed because their parents are either not there (physically or mentally), or the parents simply don't care.
So, from what I observe, it seems as though there is less lessons on character in schools (because schools say it's the parents job) and more and more parents not doing their job of schooling their kids on moral issues. So rhetorically speaking: who teaches these kids how to be good people? I don't have the answer, I'm a nobody, but I have opinions and ideas.
I understand that there are some subjects that cannot be discussed in school because of the wide interpretations of whats right and wrong. Hey, there's a funny though, right and wrong are words that have such vast meaning. Is this the right religion? Is it right for me to become a Fireman? Is it right to say that today is Sunday? Should I choose the Busch brand of baked beans, or the store brand? I think you get the point that Right and Wrong have very sliding scales of ambiguity depending on the context in question. Perhaps schools form their curriculum solely on those truths that have little to no ambiguity: is "2+2 = 4" a truth bearing statement?
With this in mind, I do begin to wonder though, if there are not universal moral truths that can still be taught while staying in the realm of little ambiguity. Perhaps the subjects of Honesty, Integrity, Truthfulness can still be taught, not just tested. I know that there is some teaching of these principles, for example honesty is used during tests, one is punished for cheating (read my post about typing class), but what I am wondering is if more can be done.
The books I am reading for English right now have messages, but really little moral compass as to right or wrong (quite possibly because the authors were mostly questioning what that is). What about other subjects: Math (well in that you have to be exact, but I still don't see much in moral lessons), Science (still don't see it), Social Studies (now this might have something, but most teachers try to steer clear of interpreting the past, they just try to present it accurately), Gym (I hated Gym, but it has potential to teach good sportsmanship).
I think overall the school system is a little weaker in moral standards that what it can be (look at Sex ED, talk about a joke for morals). What if school systems tried to incorporate books that actually have a universally taught good moral (like a person who is honest and hardworking gets ahead in business - oh wait, who am I kidding, crap like that is boring). What about intense studies of history's examples of how good moral decisions brought good outcome.
Maybe I am asking the very thing that parents argued against in the first place, who knows. I don't have an answer, I'm just thinking that shrugging behind the fact that you have to make absolutely everyone happy is a little counterproductive.
I do have a question though: Has anyone made a deep study of Love and it's effect on an individual and the people around this individual. I'll bet you that there would be boat loads of good lessons there (aside from the religious ones).
Anyways, I would like to hear some feedback (mom, I know you've got some).
So I thought about what could have possibly caused rise to schools becoming less and less about character and more about just plain old facts. In the movie, the teacher goes to the boys father (a US Senator) to talk to him about his sons poor performance. The teacher makes a remark about how his classroom is to shape young minds, but that the senators son is refusing to be shaped, to which the senator responds that the teacher is not supposed to shape his son, "leave the shaping to me" he says.
So shaping is to be done by parents, to this I agree wholeheartedly. It is the primary role of the parents to teach morality, honesty, integrity (and a bunch more -itys). But I wonder if there is a rising problem: what about parents who don't care. These students may not receive the life-education that's needed because their parents are either not there (physically or mentally), or the parents simply don't care.
So, from what I observe, it seems as though there is less lessons on character in schools (because schools say it's the parents job) and more and more parents not doing their job of schooling their kids on moral issues. So rhetorically speaking: who teaches these kids how to be good people? I don't have the answer, I'm a nobody, but I have opinions and ideas.
I understand that there are some subjects that cannot be discussed in school because of the wide interpretations of whats right and wrong. Hey, there's a funny though, right and wrong are words that have such vast meaning. Is this the right religion? Is it right for me to become a Fireman? Is it right to say that today is Sunday? Should I choose the Busch brand of baked beans, or the store brand? I think you get the point that Right and Wrong have very sliding scales of ambiguity depending on the context in question. Perhaps schools form their curriculum solely on those truths that have little to no ambiguity: is "2+2 = 4" a truth bearing statement?
With this in mind, I do begin to wonder though, if there are not universal moral truths that can still be taught while staying in the realm of little ambiguity. Perhaps the subjects of Honesty, Integrity, Truthfulness can still be taught, not just tested. I know that there is some teaching of these principles, for example honesty is used during tests, one is punished for cheating (read my post about typing class), but what I am wondering is if more can be done.
The books I am reading for English right now have messages, but really little moral compass as to right or wrong (quite possibly because the authors were mostly questioning what that is). What about other subjects: Math (well in that you have to be exact, but I still don't see much in moral lessons), Science (still don't see it), Social Studies (now this might have something, but most teachers try to steer clear of interpreting the past, they just try to present it accurately), Gym (I hated Gym, but it has potential to teach good sportsmanship).
I think overall the school system is a little weaker in moral standards that what it can be (look at Sex ED, talk about a joke for morals). What if school systems tried to incorporate books that actually have a universally taught good moral (like a person who is honest and hardworking gets ahead in business - oh wait, who am I kidding, crap like that is boring). What about intense studies of history's examples of how good moral decisions brought good outcome.
Maybe I am asking the very thing that parents argued against in the first place, who knows. I don't have an answer, I'm just thinking that shrugging behind the fact that you have to make absolutely everyone happy is a little counterproductive.
I do have a question though: Has anyone made a deep study of Love and it's effect on an individual and the people around this individual. I'll bet you that there would be boat loads of good lessons there (aside from the religious ones).
Anyways, I would like to hear some feedback (mom, I know you've got some).
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
So what to post tonight?
I can't think of much to post... Any suggestions?
So, today I was sitting in the local library today working on getting my English assignment read – The Awakening by Kate Chopin. Luckily for me a few days earlier I found an open license audio version of the book online. So I set all up with my laptop, headphones, and the book… queued the files up and hit play. About 1 minute in, I’m starting to pick up on the weird cadence in the woman’s voice. She intonates words in the middle of the sentence as if it were the end of the sentence. Also, she randomly makes the pause after a sentence extremely long, suggesting to one not reading along that it is the end of a paragraph. About 5 minutes in, I’m having a hard time picking up on what’s going on (which I don’t think is so much the fault of the faulty orator as it is the author who likes to be descriptive with everything). About 10 minutes in I am beginning to lose it. I message my wife about how bad things are, and chat about nonsense. I muscle to 30 minutes. After realizing that I was simply not able to pay attention (not for a lack of trying) because of overload of non-necessary information (or at least what I deem necessary) I finally relinquish the audio copy and dart for sparknotes (online free version of cliff-notes). Also, luckily for me at this time my wife called and said that I needed to come home to help her with something (yaaaaaay, no more torture).
Do English teachers really pick out the worst books that they know of? Is it like some sort of sick revenge for the crappy novels that they were forced to stomach during their college years? Or maybe it’s that I just lucked out and got the guy who reads this kind of crap because he likes it and has a strong feeling that everyone else should love it too (8 novels worth of pain). That last argument I understand a little. I mean, I love techno, so much that I want other to listen to it. Even when prompted with the chance, I share it with whomever I can; however I have a feeling that this is different. You see, I don’t force people to listen to 9 hours of trance CD’s if I can tell within the first 10 minutes that they don’t like it. English is not my major, and ancient American literature is definitely not something I am seeking to develop an appreciation for. Sure it was pivotal stuff for its time, but that was eons ago, no one cares now (lemme rephrase: very few people care now).
Alas I digress.
Did I ever tell you about the time that I failed keyboarding class? Well, lemme tell you about it (can you tell that I just thought of it while I was writing?). So the year was 1997 (high school sophomore, first semester about to become the second), I was talking to my friends at lunch about what to take next semester. We talked about different things, and one of my friends pipes up and says “You know what you need to do, take an easy class. You know something that will get you an easy A to get that GPA up, you know stuff like keyboarding. I took it last semester and it was a breeze. All you do is type all day.” So, on that recommendation I opted to take keyboarding. Sadly, for the sake of trying to be accurate, I cannot remember the teachers name; all I know is that it started with a W.
The first day of class we sat at assigned seats, but the computers were off. On the board was written “What is your name? How experienced are you with typing? What are your goals to improve? What do you hope to get out of this class?” You know, the getting-to-assess you kinda thing (not quite as good as getting-to-know-you). So I fill out my answers and hand it in. The next day, she had us fill out a worksheet (I can’t remember what it was about, but I do remember saying to myself “this is lame”). The next day (still not on the computer) she has us fill out another worksheet (probably some kind of assessment to see how well you would do in a position as a typist, gross). So I decide to write the teacher a note. I don’t put my name on it, but I basically say that this is an incredibly lame class that the computers aren’t even on, and that we aren’t even typing. The next day, she starts us on the computers… but at the end of class she calls me over to her desk. She said that she could tell it was me who wrote the note by my handwriting. I think she did that because she wanted more to respond to the cockiness that was in the letter.
Just to let you know the computers we were on were old pieces of dirt that were running Windows 3.11 (yup, that’s windows for workgroups); a great product for its day, but not so much when the computer lab across the hall had Windows 95, and my computer at home had Windows 98 (talk about all the other computers just taunting you because you were using old school junk). Fast forward to a few weeks later and you arrive at a pivotal moment in my experience with this class. This was a special day, because the teacher went on vacation and there was a sub. At this point I had made friends with a few people in class. I’m going to break for a moment and tell you about something that a famous hacker said. His name was Kevin Mitnick, he is probably the most well known hacker out there. He eluded the FBI for 10 or so years and was able to pull a bunch of crazy stuff. I watched an interview with him after he was released from prison (probably around 2002 or so). He said that the real trick to how he was able to pull all that he did and elude being caught was something he called “Social Networking” (which in this context, means to take advantage of the trusting nature of others for your own purposes). That being said, I do not say that what I did (as I will tell you shortly) is my finest hour. So I made friends with people in class, and there was a sub. I convinced the sub that my computer was broken and that I needed to move to a different computer (right next to one of the girls I had befriended). So, I got on the computer and instead of doing my work, I poked around (remember, these are Win 3.11 machines, whoopee). Well, I have never worked with the networking features of windows 3.1 before, but I soon found them, and also found that I could access several computers. So I looked through the list and found the computer for the girl next to me. I clicked on that and was shown all the files on her floppy drive (the place where we stored our files that we typed to turn in). Now, this had taken a majority of the class period, so I needed to have the current days work done (as I had been playing instead of typing), so I asked the girl next to me if I could copy her file (like any gentleman would) so that I had something to show for. I copied the files and put my name at the top of the file, and turned in my disk. It was a weekend, so when I came back that Monday I was met by Mrs. W. and one of the other school officials. He took me to his office which was conveniently across the hall. She accused me of cheating, and like a good boy I admitted to it. He asked me why I did it, and I just said that I did it out of curiosity, explaining how I did it. It wasn’t until later that I found out that she used a program and found that I had copied my friends work. I was sentenced to one day in ISS (in school suspension). Now one day may not seem much to some of you, but for someone who had never been in ISS before, this was horrible. You have to sit in there doing your schoolwork completely silent, staring at the wall, in a poorly lit room that looked like it used to be part of the locker rooms (and smelled like it too). Lucky for me, the day I went in, they had a pep-rally, which meant that I only had to be in half the day.
So, summing things up, I went to the final exam for the class, walking in with a 46%, and knowing that all hopes of even passing were blasted, I tried my best anyways. You know, this is one of those experiences that have taught me something about myself: I hate keyboarding, and I should be taking a computer class. So the next year I took AP computer science and passed with a 5 (which is the best you can score).
Lesson learned: go for what you really want, but try to be ethical getting there.
Wow, I guess this was a long post after all.
So, today I was sitting in the local library today working on getting my English assignment read – The Awakening by Kate Chopin. Luckily for me a few days earlier I found an open license audio version of the book online. So I set all up with my laptop, headphones, and the book… queued the files up and hit play. About 1 minute in, I’m starting to pick up on the weird cadence in the woman’s voice. She intonates words in the middle of the sentence as if it were the end of the sentence. Also, she randomly makes the pause after a sentence extremely long, suggesting to one not reading along that it is the end of a paragraph. About 5 minutes in, I’m having a hard time picking up on what’s going on (which I don’t think is so much the fault of the faulty orator as it is the author who likes to be descriptive with everything). About 10 minutes in I am beginning to lose it. I message my wife about how bad things are, and chat about nonsense. I muscle to 30 minutes. After realizing that I was simply not able to pay attention (not for a lack of trying) because of overload of non-necessary information (or at least what I deem necessary) I finally relinquish the audio copy and dart for sparknotes (online free version of cliff-notes). Also, luckily for me at this time my wife called and said that I needed to come home to help her with something (yaaaaaay, no more torture).
Do English teachers really pick out the worst books that they know of? Is it like some sort of sick revenge for the crappy novels that they were forced to stomach during their college years? Or maybe it’s that I just lucked out and got the guy who reads this kind of crap because he likes it and has a strong feeling that everyone else should love it too (8 novels worth of pain). That last argument I understand a little. I mean, I love techno, so much that I want other to listen to it. Even when prompted with the chance, I share it with whomever I can; however I have a feeling that this is different. You see, I don’t force people to listen to 9 hours of trance CD’s if I can tell within the first 10 minutes that they don’t like it. English is not my major, and ancient American literature is definitely not something I am seeking to develop an appreciation for. Sure it was pivotal stuff for its time, but that was eons ago, no one cares now (lemme rephrase: very few people care now).
Alas I digress.
Did I ever tell you about the time that I failed keyboarding class? Well, lemme tell you about it (can you tell that I just thought of it while I was writing?). So the year was 1997 (high school sophomore, first semester about to become the second), I was talking to my friends at lunch about what to take next semester. We talked about different things, and one of my friends pipes up and says “You know what you need to do, take an easy class. You know something that will get you an easy A to get that GPA up, you know stuff like keyboarding. I took it last semester and it was a breeze. All you do is type all day.” So, on that recommendation I opted to take keyboarding. Sadly, for the sake of trying to be accurate, I cannot remember the teachers name; all I know is that it started with a W.
The first day of class we sat at assigned seats, but the computers were off. On the board was written “What is your name? How experienced are you with typing? What are your goals to improve? What do you hope to get out of this class?” You know, the getting-to-assess you kinda thing (not quite as good as getting-to-know-you). So I fill out my answers and hand it in. The next day, she had us fill out a worksheet (I can’t remember what it was about, but I do remember saying to myself “this is lame”). The next day (still not on the computer) she has us fill out another worksheet (probably some kind of assessment to see how well you would do in a position as a typist, gross). So I decide to write the teacher a note. I don’t put my name on it, but I basically say that this is an incredibly lame class that the computers aren’t even on, and that we aren’t even typing. The next day, she starts us on the computers… but at the end of class she calls me over to her desk. She said that she could tell it was me who wrote the note by my handwriting. I think she did that because she wanted more to respond to the cockiness that was in the letter.
Just to let you know the computers we were on were old pieces of dirt that were running Windows 3.11 (yup, that’s windows for workgroups); a great product for its day, but not so much when the computer lab across the hall had Windows 95, and my computer at home had Windows 98 (talk about all the other computers just taunting you because you were using old school junk). Fast forward to a few weeks later and you arrive at a pivotal moment in my experience with this class. This was a special day, because the teacher went on vacation and there was a sub. At this point I had made friends with a few people in class. I’m going to break for a moment and tell you about something that a famous hacker said. His name was Kevin Mitnick, he is probably the most well known hacker out there. He eluded the FBI for 10 or so years and was able to pull a bunch of crazy stuff. I watched an interview with him after he was released from prison (probably around 2002 or so). He said that the real trick to how he was able to pull all that he did and elude being caught was something he called “Social Networking” (which in this context, means to take advantage of the trusting nature of others for your own purposes). That being said, I do not say that what I did (as I will tell you shortly) is my finest hour. So I made friends with people in class, and there was a sub. I convinced the sub that my computer was broken and that I needed to move to a different computer (right next to one of the girls I had befriended). So, I got on the computer and instead of doing my work, I poked around (remember, these are Win 3.11 machines, whoopee). Well, I have never worked with the networking features of windows 3.1 before, but I soon found them, and also found that I could access several computers. So I looked through the list and found the computer for the girl next to me. I clicked on that and was shown all the files on her floppy drive (the place where we stored our files that we typed to turn in). Now, this had taken a majority of the class period, so I needed to have the current days work done (as I had been playing instead of typing), so I asked the girl next to me if I could copy her file (like any gentleman would) so that I had something to show for. I copied the files and put my name at the top of the file, and turned in my disk. It was a weekend, so when I came back that Monday I was met by Mrs. W. and one of the other school officials. He took me to his office which was conveniently across the hall. She accused me of cheating, and like a good boy I admitted to it. He asked me why I did it, and I just said that I did it out of curiosity, explaining how I did it. It wasn’t until later that I found out that she used a program and found that I had copied my friends work. I was sentenced to one day in ISS (in school suspension). Now one day may not seem much to some of you, but for someone who had never been in ISS before, this was horrible. You have to sit in there doing your schoolwork completely silent, staring at the wall, in a poorly lit room that looked like it used to be part of the locker rooms (and smelled like it too). Lucky for me, the day I went in, they had a pep-rally, which meant that I only had to be in half the day.
So, summing things up, I went to the final exam for the class, walking in with a 46%, and knowing that all hopes of even passing were blasted, I tried my best anyways. You know, this is one of those experiences that have taught me something about myself: I hate keyboarding, and I should be taking a computer class. So the next year I took AP computer science and passed with a 5 (which is the best you can score).
Lesson learned: go for what you really want, but try to be ethical getting there.
Wow, I guess this was a long post after all.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
By Special Request
So a few of you want to know where p00p comes from? Well, any High School anatomy class can teach you this (as well as any three year old). But rising above, and being adult for a moment, we shall meditate on the origin of this word... I don't know.
For those who know me, p00p is a word that had become a part of my dialect. It is not simply because human excretions are funny to me, but rather that this word has special meaning.
A long time ago in a galaxy far far away, I lived in Athens, GA where I was learning to "Be Myself." During this period of self-discovery I created new words like Mupa (which means everything and nothing all at once), and sounds like Mlop (just a sound). I also found new humor in discussing the word p00p. Consider this: Diarrhea. Now before you hit the X at the top of the window or navigate your browser as far away from this page as possible, we will not actually be discussing the true meanings of these words. I have heard it once said that if it were not for the meaning, Diarrhea would make a very pretty girls name.
Consider the word p00p. Remember, don't think about it's meaning. Now say it out loud (or in your head)... p0000000p. It just sounds funny. It almost makes one smile because it has a warm humor to it. This is the reason I use the word p00p. I'm not a feclefeliac (sp?) I just like the sound of the word. Words are fun to me, I like how they audibly sound. And so it is with p00p.
So there you have it.
So, what to write about (other than p00p).
by the way, for those who are offended by the above, I only half apologize. I'm sad that you might be offended, but really, p00p is a natural part of life, and it's perfectly fine to have a p00p talk once in a while. I do apologize though, because I don't aim to offend, so if this is offensive, my followers made me do it.
I love techno. My brother Brad bought me a Way Out West CD. They are one of my favorite artists.
quick roll call of favorite Bands/DJ's:
The Chemical Brothers
Way Out West
Paul Van Dyk
Armin Van Buuren
Sasha
Sasha & John Digweed (the albums that they make together)
The Prodigy
Fatboy Slim
I could probably name some more, but this should suffice to let you know that I like techno/trance.
Hey, TheMann, Why do you like techno? Well, one of my main attractions to it is that there is very little use of lyrics. Artists focus more on the music and cadence of the songs. I like the more upbeat music (maybe because I have a high metabolism?) because it keeps me energized and awake. I do enjoy the slightly slower stuff (like Sasha) because even though it has a beat, you can drown your senses in the ambient movement of the music. One of my favorite things that I used to do (don't really do it now because I don't have time anymore) is to just sit, close my eyes, and listen to an entire mixed Trance CD. One of the things I love most about trance is the environment and soundscapes that are created. You can literally enter an alternate state of thinking when listening to this music (if you allow yourself to of course).
One night (in Athens) I was having a hard time trying to go to sleep, so I decided to crawl out of bed, plug in my headphones, and listen to Tranceport 2 (by Dave Ralph) both CD's. I listened to it curled up in a blanket on my floor with my room lights on. All throughout I had my eyes closed, but the light from the room penetrated and I would create scapes in my head. I began to go half asleep when the next thing I know I opened my eyes and the lights were off. I looked around a bit and went back to listening, and when finally relaxed, I went back to bed. I found out later that my roommate Jason had turned the lights off because he noticed they were on and didn't want to waste the electricity. But for me this experience was extremely trippy. I loved it.
My only complaint with trance is that it's not more popular here in the states. That's stupid if you ask me. You listen to pop music now and it takes many elements from trance and techno, but totally destroyed and puked into a fabricated industry-mongrel's idea of "good." Ever since about the mid-90's pop music has gone to pot. There isn't anything new, it all sounds alike, and it is performed by artists with little talent (if any at all - thank you auto-tune). But hey, this post is about trance and how it rises above all that industrial crap. Well, it just does.
anyways, it's time to eat.
For those who know me, p00p is a word that had become a part of my dialect. It is not simply because human excretions are funny to me, but rather that this word has special meaning.
A long time ago in a galaxy far far away, I lived in Athens, GA where I was learning to "Be Myself." During this period of self-discovery I created new words like Mupa (which means everything and nothing all at once), and sounds like Mlop (just a sound). I also found new humor in discussing the word p00p. Consider this: Diarrhea. Now before you hit the X at the top of the window or navigate your browser as far away from this page as possible, we will not actually be discussing the true meanings of these words. I have heard it once said that if it were not for the meaning, Diarrhea would make a very pretty girls name.
Consider the word p00p. Remember, don't think about it's meaning. Now say it out loud (or in your head)... p0000000p. It just sounds funny. It almost makes one smile because it has a warm humor to it. This is the reason I use the word p00p. I'm not a feclefeliac (sp?) I just like the sound of the word. Words are fun to me, I like how they audibly sound. And so it is with p00p.
So there you have it.
So, what to write about (other than p00p).
by the way, for those who are offended by the above, I only half apologize. I'm sad that you might be offended, but really, p00p is a natural part of life, and it's perfectly fine to have a p00p talk once in a while. I do apologize though, because I don't aim to offend, so if this is offensive, my followers made me do it.
I love techno. My brother Brad bought me a Way Out West CD. They are one of my favorite artists.
quick roll call of favorite Bands/DJ's:
The Chemical Brothers
Way Out West
Paul Van Dyk
Armin Van Buuren
Sasha
Sasha & John Digweed (the albums that they make together)
The Prodigy
Fatboy Slim
I could probably name some more, but this should suffice to let you know that I like techno/trance.
Hey, TheMann, Why do you like techno? Well, one of my main attractions to it is that there is very little use of lyrics. Artists focus more on the music and cadence of the songs. I like the more upbeat music (maybe because I have a high metabolism?) because it keeps me energized and awake. I do enjoy the slightly slower stuff (like Sasha) because even though it has a beat, you can drown your senses in the ambient movement of the music. One of my favorite things that I used to do (don't really do it now because I don't have time anymore) is to just sit, close my eyes, and listen to an entire mixed Trance CD. One of the things I love most about trance is the environment and soundscapes that are created. You can literally enter an alternate state of thinking when listening to this music (if you allow yourself to of course).
One night (in Athens) I was having a hard time trying to go to sleep, so I decided to crawl out of bed, plug in my headphones, and listen to Tranceport 2 (by Dave Ralph) both CD's. I listened to it curled up in a blanket on my floor with my room lights on. All throughout I had my eyes closed, but the light from the room penetrated and I would create scapes in my head. I began to go half asleep when the next thing I know I opened my eyes and the lights were off. I looked around a bit and went back to listening, and when finally relaxed, I went back to bed. I found out later that my roommate Jason had turned the lights off because he noticed they were on and didn't want to waste the electricity. But for me this experience was extremely trippy. I loved it.
My only complaint with trance is that it's not more popular here in the states. That's stupid if you ask me. You listen to pop music now and it takes many elements from trance and techno, but totally destroyed and puked into a fabricated industry-mongrel's idea of "good." Ever since about the mid-90's pop music has gone to pot. There isn't anything new, it all sounds alike, and it is performed by artists with little talent (if any at all - thank you auto-tune). But hey, this post is about trance and how it rises above all that industrial crap. Well, it just does.
anyways, it's time to eat.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
day 2, not dead yet
So, I'm sitting here in my hybrid Living Room/Kitchen/Bedroom/Office trying to think of things to post this time.
Ok, quick critique on The Prodigy's newest album "Invaders Must Die." I've listened to track 1, a little of track 2, and skipped around in track 5. Frankly, I must say that the sounds and instruments sound strangely familiar to their Experience CD. Maybe they are thinking that if they rehash some of their stuff from 1992 that no one will notice.
So Story of the day: I can't think of anything from today that is worthy of blabbing about. Since it is also the beginning of my blog, then I will write a little bit about myself.
Q: Why do I call myself TheMann?
A: Because I am he.
It actually started a long time ago, probably when I was about 14. At this stage in my life I was into a few computer games. They were the type of games that when you made a high score they would ask your name. I put "The Man." It seemed simple and effective enough, so it stuck. Fast Forwarding to college time (yes, nothing as far as this name happens until then) I moved into the dorms. Many people had great computer names, like Cossix, Cain, Daedalus, Muffy. I got a copy of Unreal Tournament (the original UT) and played many of these people on the network. I tried to come up with a name, but always came up with something lame. One day I was walking through the dorm halls and someone was setting up their computer (or atleast trying to), so I asked if they needed help, and they accepted. After I finished they said "you are the man!" this actually occurred a few times: I would help someone and they would respond in thanks by saying "You are the man!" Now this standard sign of appreciation got me to think. I began to remember putting my name as "The Man" on those computer games, but two common English words by themselves was not elite enough for me, so I decided to add another consonant.
Soon people in UT found themselves crushed by "The Mann" (or at least I like to think that's how things were, I actually sucked at the game). I found new pride in my name as The Mann, however the evolution was not complete.
I decided to setup a web server (FTP and HTTP) so that I can host a web site on the local dorm network (Many people were doing this actually). This was the best way to get warez, mp3's, movies... pretty much anything your heart could digitally desire. Just a quick description of important facts for this: in order for others to access services on your computer, they will simply call it by your computers name (the one specified by windows) (i.e. ftp://carlscomputer/). But there was a problem... My computer's name was "The Mann", and for anyone familiar with networking knows that I committed a network sin by placing a space in the name. Have you ever seen a webpage called http://there is a space in my domain.com/ ? no, because it's illegal. the computer won't let you do it. Windows networking names will, but don't come begging for mercy to it when you can't access special services. Anyways... that being said, this brings my name to the fully polished, fully network qualified, and "totally me" name, "TheMann"
Bask in it's glory. The product of a genius.
So there you have it, the evolution of the name TheMann.
Well, I'm off to watch a movie, while letting thoughts of looming homework ride in the back of my mind.
Ok, quick critique on The Prodigy's newest album "Invaders Must Die." I've listened to track 1, a little of track 2, and skipped around in track 5. Frankly, I must say that the sounds and instruments sound strangely familiar to their Experience CD. Maybe they are thinking that if they rehash some of their stuff from 1992 that no one will notice.
So Story of the day: I can't think of anything from today that is worthy of blabbing about. Since it is also the beginning of my blog, then I will write a little bit about myself.
Q: Why do I call myself TheMann?
A: Because I am he.
It actually started a long time ago, probably when I was about 14. At this stage in my life I was into a few computer games. They were the type of games that when you made a high score they would ask your name. I put "The Man." It seemed simple and effective enough, so it stuck. Fast Forwarding to college time (yes, nothing as far as this name happens until then) I moved into the dorms. Many people had great computer names, like Cossix, Cain, Daedalus, Muffy. I got a copy of Unreal Tournament (the original UT) and played many of these people on the network. I tried to come up with a name, but always came up with something lame. One day I was walking through the dorm halls and someone was setting up their computer (or atleast trying to), so I asked if they needed help, and they accepted. After I finished they said "you are the man!" this actually occurred a few times: I would help someone and they would respond in thanks by saying "You are the man!" Now this standard sign of appreciation got me to think. I began to remember putting my name as "The Man" on those computer games, but two common English words by themselves was not elite enough for me, so I decided to add another consonant.
Soon people in UT found themselves crushed by "The Mann" (or at least I like to think that's how things were, I actually sucked at the game). I found new pride in my name as The Mann, however the evolution was not complete.
I decided to setup a web server (FTP and HTTP) so that I can host a web site on the local dorm network (Many people were doing this actually). This was the best way to get warez, mp3's, movies... pretty much anything your heart could digitally desire. Just a quick description of important facts for this: in order for others to access services on your computer, they will simply call it by your computers name (the one specified by windows) (i.e. ftp://carlscomputer/). But there was a problem... My computer's name was "The Mann", and for anyone familiar with networking knows that I committed a network sin by placing a space in the name. Have you ever seen a webpage called http://there is a space in my domain.com/ ? no, because it's illegal. the computer won't let you do it. Windows networking names will, but don't come begging for mercy to it when you can't access special services. Anyways... that being said, this brings my name to the fully polished, fully network qualified, and "totally me" name, "TheMann"
Bask in it's glory. The product of a genius.
So there you have it, the evolution of the name TheMann.
Well, I'm off to watch a movie, while letting thoughts of looming homework ride in the back of my mind.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
First Blog
is it too geek of me to want to post "Hello World"
aaah, too much time spent on the computer.
ok, seriously though, I wanted everyone to know that I was forced against my will to start this blog (actually I'm 100% kidding, but it just sounds funny that way).
in reality, I'm kind of excited that I get to post my random thoughts here rather than annoy people with them on facebook. I've got a lot of great rants and stories to boot... lemme see if I can think of one.
So, I just finished reading this book for my lit class. Which, by the way, I don't see how an english teacher aims to keep up student moral when he assigns 8 novels (yes, I said novel) to be read before the end of the semester; the first of which (Maggie: a girl on the streets) is to be read between Monday (first day of classes) and Wednesday. So I talked to a girl in the hall before class on Wednesday (today) about the book. She hadn't read much and asked me how it was. I explained to her that if you are one who becomes just tickled by the way sentences are structured and paragraphs are formed then this book is great, but if you are like everyone else (like a normal human being with a pulse) then the book typically sucks. Maggie, a girl abandoned by her family and society turned prostitute, dies in the end... but is it ever explained how or why, no. What the crap is that all about? The guy spent pages describing the New York Browery streets (like just description... not actual plot, just description), but you would think that with all these flowery expultions that somewhere he might do the audience courtesy to know how the main character dies. but no.
I waited for this since reading the book yesterday: the teacher enters the class, takes roll, and then asks the question I hoped he would ask: "How was it?" to which I quickly responded "It sucked!" My teacher being a cool guy replied "by that I assume you mean that you didn't like it. why didn't you like it?" so I told him about the painfully long descriptions and the horribly unentertaining plot (I somehow remember my wife almost falling asleep as she read it to me). he proceeds by simply going back over the book again. He even went into descriptions of New York's Irish culture at that time, and many other things did he do to try and cram in our heads why this book is a quintessential piece of American literature.
having looked around the room I noticed that many (if not all) of my classmates looked as though they felt just like me, a feeling similar to that of how one feels after eating a chicken sandwich. we were tired. many of us were staring at the floor as if to scream loudly "I don't care!" or possibly "I just wanna go home!"
luckily temporary salvation came when he said "we will continue this next week."
well, anyways, that's my story for the day.
now I'm off to history (yippee)
aaah, too much time spent on the computer.
ok, seriously though, I wanted everyone to know that I was forced against my will to start this blog (actually I'm 100% kidding, but it just sounds funny that way).
in reality, I'm kind of excited that I get to post my random thoughts here rather than annoy people with them on facebook. I've got a lot of great rants and stories to boot... lemme see if I can think of one.
So, I just finished reading this book for my lit class. Which, by the way, I don't see how an english teacher aims to keep up student moral when he assigns 8 novels (yes, I said novel) to be read before the end of the semester; the first of which (Maggie: a girl on the streets) is to be read between Monday (first day of classes) and Wednesday. So I talked to a girl in the hall before class on Wednesday (today) about the book. She hadn't read much and asked me how it was. I explained to her that if you are one who becomes just tickled by the way sentences are structured and paragraphs are formed then this book is great, but if you are like everyone else (like a normal human being with a pulse) then the book typically sucks. Maggie, a girl abandoned by her family and society turned prostitute, dies in the end... but is it ever explained how or why, no. What the crap is that all about? The guy spent pages describing the New York Browery streets (like just description... not actual plot, just description), but you would think that with all these flowery expultions that somewhere he might do the audience courtesy to know how the main character dies. but no.
I waited for this since reading the book yesterday: the teacher enters the class, takes roll, and then asks the question I hoped he would ask: "How was it?" to which I quickly responded "It sucked!" My teacher being a cool guy replied "by that I assume you mean that you didn't like it. why didn't you like it?" so I told him about the painfully long descriptions and the horribly unentertaining plot (I somehow remember my wife almost falling asleep as she read it to me). he proceeds by simply going back over the book again. He even went into descriptions of New York's Irish culture at that time, and many other things did he do to try and cram in our heads why this book is a quintessential piece of American literature.
having looked around the room I noticed that many (if not all) of my classmates looked as though they felt just like me, a feeling similar to that of how one feels after eating a chicken sandwich. we were tired. many of us were staring at the floor as if to scream loudly "I don't care!" or possibly "I just wanna go home!"
luckily temporary salvation came when he said "we will continue this next week."
well, anyways, that's my story for the day.
now I'm off to history (yippee)
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