terminator

Wow... we're crossing the border from January to February tomorrow. How was your first month of 2009? Mine was spent largely indoors, in front of the keyboard.

Just watched "Pineapple Express" with my brother David, Mr. Netflix Member. Pretty funny flick, but a bit weird for a stoner movie: no memorable hallucination scenes, but lots of gunfire, and one character gets the "Inego Montoya" treatment. Some classic lines in the script, though. It wasn't as witty as Tarantino's dialogue, but the main characters did bumble their way through the plot, which is what you're looking for in a stoner flick.

I wish I had something to say about last night's BSG, but I can't seem to muster the necessary ganas. The human race is winding down, tearing itself apart, and all that's left is watching how the chips fall. Baltar made reference to a cryptic occurrence in the previous season, when Gaeta stabbed him in the neck after Baltar, in the brig at the time, had whispered something provocative to Gaeta. I can't even drum up enough curiosity to speculate on the content of the utterance. Gaeta's taken over the Galactica, Adama has threatened that there will be no forgiveness for such an action... where can one go from there?

Proofing to do. I might be writing something tomorrow, but in the meantime... have a great Superbowl Sunday!


_

no rest for the sedentary

This is actually a good thing, in my opinion: make your own energy!


_

one of my favorite commercials since coming home

The Bridgestone Squirrel commercial. I love it.


_

l'embarras du choix

Hard to believe, but work is fairly pouring in these days. I had to turn down a juicy 24-page assignment because two other assignments reached me first. Busy today, busy on Monday.


_

please don't kill Bill

Bill Buchanan (played by James Morrison) is one of my favorite "24" characters-- calm as a sniper, centered as a monk. I have a sinking feeling, though, that he's not going to make it through the day. I'm not too worried about Chloe O'Brian (Mary Lynn Rajskub), who has been part of the show since Season 3, but the writers of "24" have never been afraid of wasting principals when they know it'll wrench the viewer emotionally. Bill seems the most likely candidate right now, mainly because he's the mastermind behind the operation to root out government corruption. With just him, Chloe, Jack, and Tony against the entire FBI, Bill is looking more and more like the guy who's going to get caught in the crossfire.

Hang in there, Bill!


_

25 Things About Me

I was tagged twice on Facebook for this "25 Things About Me" meme, but instead of giving Facebook more traffic, I've decided to write my list right here on my blog. Warning: 13 items are false; 12 are true. Guess which ones are which.

1. I've had all four wisdom teeth removed in Korea.
2. I studied taekwondo as a kid.
3. I've never gone SCUBA diving.
4. I once furiously wrote a scathing evaluation of one of my profs in grad school, then folded up the paper and threw it in the garbage instead of turning it in.
5. My first-ever experience with seated meditation went surprisingly well.
6. I have been known to crack open packets of tabasco sauce and suck the sauce right out, one after another.
7. I'm right-handed.
8. I have never learned how to ride a ten-speed or any other two-wheeler because of a fear of falling.
9. I visited Helsinki with my brother David in 1991 as part of a European vacation that was a graduation gift from my parents.
10. I've owned snakes.
11. I sued a Korean boss back in the 1990s and was awarded about $3000 for my trouble.
12. I've ridden horses.
13. I've shaken the hand of Morgan Freeman.
14. I used to be a creationist and biblical literalist.
15. I've eaten plenty of strange food, but the strangest was porcupine.
16. I've owned four tarantulas.
17. I broke my wrist when I was eight.
18. I've never punched anyone in the face.
19. I've never hiked above 10,000 feet.
20. I've pooped next to a freeway, with minimal cover.
21. I once wrecked the family car by driving it onto a large bush, where it stuck.
22. Barring some notable exceptions, I generally despise country music. I don't hate the singers themselves; I'm just annoyed by the twaaaaannnngggg.
23. Among my hidden talents: I'm a self-taught piano player.
24. A deer once attacked me in Shenandoah National Park.
25. I used to want to be a marine biologist.

As my Korean students might say, "Have a fun!"


_

the good news for you is...

I'm at the point where I can finally turn back to my transcripts. It's a shame that I've lost the data for the Metanoia Peace House conversation, but I still have the audio, so it's only a matter of a few hours' retyping to get back up to speed.

Upshot: expect transcripts over the next few weeks. I can't guarantee I'll be finished with all of them by the time I head back out west, but I'll definitely have two or three more up before I go.


_

damn my honesty

So I finished the 20-pager for my HUFS job, then got an email from my main job, the one with BK. Because the email was written in somewhat broken English, I found it hard to tell whether BK was planning to pay me for both December and January, or just for December (which is what I've been led to expect). The email requested a confirmation of the word counts for January; I opened their Excel file attachment and saw that they had me down for a little over 29,000 words. I, too, have been keeping a spreadsheet, but my own records show me as having done a little over 27,000 words for January. I did a comparison, and it turns out my count is the correct one: BK added an extra assignment to my list, thereby padding the word count. I dutifully emailed BK with the news-- good for them, bad for me.

Bollocks!


_

can he?

I've got a 20-pager due at 10PM. Can I do it? I think so: the English is already quite good, so it shouldn't be hard to proof.


_

finding value in the simple things

A buttered roll, face-down in the skillet and toasted until slightly brown, upon which you then plop an immodest glob of honey: that's perfection.

Hanging with your dad and your little brother, watching and commenting on an episode of "House," enjoying an hour of Just Us Guys: that's happiness.

I'm in a strange period right now; my body seems mostly back on track, pain-wise, but my wallet still needs until the end of March to convalesce. My two jobs are fairly quiet in nature, as I just hunch over a keyboard and tap-tap-tap away. I feel ready to go, but can't leave right away. Because my job doesn't require me to commute, I do it from home, which means-- especially since the renovation is done-- that I have time to just hang.

I'm not sure how much just hanging I did while living in Korea. I spent a lot of time by myself, but very little time just hanging with my Korean and expat friends. Most of us led busy lives on the peninsula; even my own down-time was mainly at night, when I would get home late from the office. My buddy Tom was often busier than I was, which meant that we didn't meet up that often, despite working together in the same office for a year. My buddy Charles lived outside of Seoul for most of the time I've known him, so I didn't see him and his wife all that often, either.

Now here I am in Virginia, with one of my best friends about an hour south of me, another about an hour or so north of me, and a third in Pennsylvania, about four hours away. All three friends are married; two of the three have families. Just hanging with them requires planning; the activity becomes an event in itself. That's what happens when you grow up and people go their separate ways, I guess.

I'd like to think, though, that despite the infrequency with which we see each other, we all still hang out in spirit. Somewhere out there is a metaphysical TV room, a place where the guys can get together and watch a game or a movie, shoot the breeze, and just chill.

Or maybe there's no such room. Maybe all we've got is fuckin' Facebook. Man, that's a depressing thought.


_

if you're brave

As I told Malcolm privately, I have no intention of jumping into the toxic vortex of the very heated discussion about race and immigration now occurring in a post over at his fine blog. But if you're brave enough, and feel you have something intelligent to add (civilly!!) to the discussion, be my guest and jump on in! Me, I think it's rapidly turning into the Marmot's Hole comments section. I don't blame Malcolm for this, of course; these folks are all adults and therefore responsible for their own actions.


_

snowed in, parents out

My folks are nuts! It's snowing heavily outside, and they've taken the small car (a little Honda Civic) instead of their van (a Honda Odyssey) out into the white madness.


_

the real Ratzinger slowly reveals himself

The current pope was an object of suspicion among many of the Religious Studies faculty at Catholic University back when he was just Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. The prevalent fear was that Ratzinger, if made pope, would roll back many of the conciliatory steps taken by his friend and predecessor, Pope John Paul II (affectionately known as "JP2" in Catholic circles). Are we seeing such a rollback in slow motion? Get Religion offers some speculation as they ponder why the Pope would pardon excommunicated LeFebvrian bishops, at least one of whom is a Holocaust-denier. The situation has interreligious implications: just imagine what all this looks like from a Jewish point of view.


_

new find

A commenter who had left an interesting remark on Dr. Vallicella's philo blog (see this post) attracted my attention, so I clicked the link and found myself at Boram Lee's blog, Footnotes to Hume. Lee writes, in one post:

With respect to natural and social sciences, I am a non-reductive physicalist. I believe that biological, psychological, and social phenomena supervene on, but quite likely cannot be reduced to, physical facts. With respect to ethics, though, I favor a reductionist approach. I believe that morals can be reduced to biological, psychological, and social phenomena.

This is awfully close to where I stand. Lee's blog is as fascinating as Vallicella's, so on the sidebar it goes. Scroll down and you'll find it in the "Trouvailles" section.


_

Year of the Ox

Happy Lunar New Year! Korea celebrates Seollal* beginning today, and going on through Monday and Tuesday. Not all Asian countries celebrate Lunar New Year at the same time; I think China already had a head start on us Koreans.

It's the Year of the Ox (see here for a cute New Year's pic). The Ox represents, among other things, hard work, patience, and prosperity-- qualities and situations to which we all aspire in a time of economic difficulty, I think. While I don't subscribe to astrology, I do feel there's no harm in pondering the Ox's virtues in 2009.

So: Sae-hae bok manhi badeusaeyo! Happy New Year!

---

*Many write this as "Seol-nal," reflecting the Korean letters used, but not reflecting the actual pronunciation: this is the difference between transliteration (letters) and transcription (sounds).

In Korean, if a syllable ends with an "L" sound and the following syllable begins with an "N," the result is a "double-L" sound. This is often true if the situation is reversed, i.e., an "N + L" linkage instead of "L + N."

Examples:

Han-la = Halla (a mountain's name)
gwan-li = gwalli (administration, management)
Shin-la = Shilla (a dynasty)


_

a clear yard is a happy yard

With Dad's help, I bundled up the nine tarps that had been flapping wildly around the back yard like big blue drunken wraiths. I also collected the last of the large pieces of wood and the remaining brick fragments that had been strewn all over the yard. For all intents and purposes, the back yard is back to normal. Next up are two unenviable tasks: (1) making multiple trips to the garbage dump next week to throw out all the wood and other garbage, and (2) crawling under the deck to pluck out all the fallen screws, nails, shims, and cigarette butts that had accumulated during deck construction. I'd love to crawl around with some sort of powerful magnet, but I don't know whether such a device exists for under-the-deck cleaning. (Even if the under-the-deck cleaning magnet did exist, it probably wouldn't help with the cigarette butts.)

The deck itself still needs its handrails put in; that's Dad's job. We also need to clean off the deck's surface, which is covered with synthetic sawdust from the renovation crew's final paroxysm of drilling into the deck's synthetic planks. Inside the house, there remains plenty to occupy us for weeks... or even months. Me, I'm going to be searching for the stash of DVDs! Meanwhile, the parents have to think about calling the county for that final inspection, after which we can take those permits down from our living room's bay window.

On a personal note: my optical drive is on its way, and I need to figure out how to tap into Dad's FIOS connection wirelessly, so that I can move my laptop downstairs and finally stop hogging poor Dad's computer. I also have to buy a small but durable laptop case, something that will both protect the computer from the elements and fit inside my backpack. Which reminds me: I need to look into some sort of rig that will allow me to tow the backpack behind me when my knees start to feel the strain of walking. I might be able to get by without such a rig, but given how achy my knees still get after 11-mile walks, it might be a good investment.

None of the above worries me tonight, however. Tomorrow, God willing. Tomorrow.


_

"House" and religion

"House" is, in general, a frustrating show for me-- fascinating and compelling, but not among my tip-top favorites. This is for several reasons. First, House's consistently acerbic demeanor makes every episode predictable on some level. Second, any given verbal sparring match with House ends with House left speechless, unable to reply after a zinger from his interlocutor (usually female). Third, the plot of every episode (except, notably, the one under discussion) unfolds almost exactly the same way. Fourth, those aforementioned zingers-- usually psychoanalytical in nature-- can be annoying because they often sound like what they are: the work of writers desperately reaching for something new and profound to say this week. It's not often that I want my TV writing to be as stilted and self-conscious as the writing one expects to find in stage plays, or even in some movies. "House" would be just as interesting if it didn't try to bring us one Deep Human Truth per week, but some episodes occasionally do invite an exploration of deeper matters.

I wish I had recorded and re-watched a rather uncharacteristic episode of "House" that aired as a repeat on the USA Network last night ("One Day, One Room"-- see here). A young woman is brought in, and it soon becomes apparent that she's a rape victim. She insists that only House should be her caregiver-- not the psychiatrist, and not a different medical doctor. House is perplexed: he knows how unlikable he can be, and reasons that the woman deserves to be treated by someone more socially adept. Eventually, though, House finds himself stuck in a treatment room with the woman, and they eventually begin to talk. House asks the woman about her background, and she says she majored in comparative religion.

The ensuing dialogue was interesting, but I couldn't help feeling that the woman didn't sound like a student of comparative religion. Of course, students in that field come in all shapes and sizes, from atheistic to hard-core fundamentalistic. Nevertheless, the conversation rang false with me; the woman would have, at the very least, brought out tidbits from a variety of religions instead of relying on very generic and oversimplified God-language. She also wouldn't have rejected House's attempt at injecting philosophy into the discussion: no self-respecting student of comparative religion would fail to see the relevance of philosophy to religious discourse. She invites philosophical rebuttal every time she makes general metaphysical statements.

The episode ends with House and the woman on cordial terms: it turns out that she insisted on House because she saw him as something of a kindred spirit, someone who had also suffered a deep hurt, and it was this perception that fed her desire for connection. House tells her about the physical abuse he suffered as a child, which allows the woman to open up and tell House about her rape, and to terminate the pregnancy caused by the rape. The episode, while different from the usual "House" fare, was nonetheless frustrating because it did attempt to make time for some sort of religious and philosophical debate, then cheated us by not giving us a fully fleshed-out comparative religion student. The show included a subplot about a dying old man; had they dropped that subplot, there would have been more time for House and the woman to have had a meaningful (not to mention more realistic-sounding) discussion.


_

BSG musings: the calm after the storm

Tonight's newest episode of BSG was something of a letdown after last week's intense Season 4.5 opener. We now know that Lt. Gaeta is willing to help Tom Zarek resist any alliance between the fleet and the rebel Cylons (Adama is considering the adoption of Cylon technology to update the fleet's FTL drive capability; the rebel Cylons want full membership in the fleet and all rights appertaining thereto).

We also learn that Tyrol's baby was never his: the real father is Viper pilot Brendan "Hot Dog" Costanza (played by Bodie Olmos, Edward's son). This pisses Tyrol off.

We see Gaeta confront Kara Thrace; he harbors a huge grudge against her, since she had almost airlocked him early on in Season 3, and was also partly to blame for Gaeta's losing his leg.

We have no idea what Kara might have confessed to Lee Adama, if she confessed anything: Lee seems more or less normal, so it's possible that Kara never said, "Hey-- I might just be a Cylon, too!" Wild thought: the Starbuck who burned in the Viper was human, but the current 2.0 version is some sort of "Blade Runner"-style replicant. Nah, probably not. I'm still curious to know what sort of technology reproduced both Kara and her Viper; the whole thing reminds me of that classic Star Trek episode, "Shore Leave," in which McCoy is killed but brought back.

Baltar is shown preaching what appears to be a new theology: one that counts humanity as blameless and, Job-like, demands that God appear and account for his/her/its actions.

Adama and Roslin finally get it on, as we knew they should, and Adama himself is seen popping pills and grimacing... is he being set up to die at or near the end of the series?

BSG, like "24," has never been shy about wasting main characters. I've long assumed that Roslin was destined for death; the 2003 miniseries is where we see her get the cancer diagnosis, and her infusion with Cylon blood later on turned out to be only a temporary reprieve. Roslin's arc is a tragic one. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that Adama was also headed for an early death. He has too many enemies, has undergone too much stress. He is also, along with Roslin, one of the "parents" of the fleet. A major theme running through BSG is the idea that parents have to die for their children truly to fulfill themselves, and it could well be that, whatever promised land awaits the fleet, Adama and Roslin might not be there to see it.

Previews for next week's show reveal that things are going to get ugly as Zarek begins his mutiny. Gaeta is shown attempting to relieve Adama of his command. The whole situation is a mess, and likely to get messier.

On the whole, though, I thought tonight's episode was a step backward: it felt exactly like those Season 1 and 2 episodes where we saw a variety of power struggles and intra-fleet squabbling. Baltar, one of the most interesting characters on the show, seems to have run his course, having settled into his irrelevant holy-man role. I hope that all these tangled plotlines are actually going somewhere, because tonight's installment felt almost as if it didn't need to be written. It answered none of the series' major questions:

1. What's so reverence-worthy about the Final Five Cylons?
2. What is Kara?
3. What is the ontological status of head-Six?
4. Why is Roslin seemingly telepathically tied to Athena and the Six aboard Galactica? (Theory: the Cylon blood in her veins has something to do with this and with her headache in the nebula at the end of Season 3.)
5. What's the importance of Hera, the half-Cylon child of Karl "Helo" Agathon and Sharon "Athena" Valeri (does Grace Park look like a "Valeri" to you?)?
6. What exactly was the Cylon plan-- the one we were told they had back in Seasons 1 and 2? The phrase "...and they have a plan" was part of the opening title sequence for a while.
7. The Six aboard Galactica appears to be preggers with Tigh's child. How will this play out in the remaining eight episodes?

...and all the other questions I've posed in previous entries.

The Season 4.5 opener, which was filmed during the writer's strike, was apparently written in such a way that it could have served as the series finale, if need be. This might explain the contrast between it and tonight's almost meandering episode. I hope the upcoming chapters are more tightly focused. There's no time to waste.


_

the deep blue field

Who knew that the supposedly simple act of un-crumpling nine blue tarps, kicking away the ice that kept them clenched closed, mooring their corners with bricks and other heavy objects, then brooming off whatever surface ice remained would take so long?

I was supposed to spread out the tarps, let them dry, then flip them over to let their other sides dry. The day's temperatures crept upward to something approaching warmth, but however warm today was, it wasn't warm enough to melt away the remaining surface water on the tarps. The tarps sat out all day and even now remain spread upon the ground, covering almost half the back yard. They aren't ready to be flipped.

Luckily, I did make progress on other fronts. My tent has been taken down (see previous photo), for one thing. All the piles of "spare" wood, leftovers from deck construction, have been shunted to the forward corner of the back yard. I imagine we'll be making some special trash runs to get rid of that mess. The cargo pallets have also been piled together by the fence; they'll be loaded into the van, a few at a time, and taken... somewhere. The remains of the kitchen tent setup, tossed back into the back yard by the renovators so they could finish up with the deck, are back on the deck and ready to be put into storage.

I've just gobbled a bunch of aspirin to counteract the ache in my shoulders and neck. It's been a few weeks since the last time I engaged in any heavy lifting, so I think my muscles were a bit surprised to find themselves once again called to duty. I ought to be fine in the next hour or so. Just in time for sleep.

Tomorrow: tarp-flipping. The weather forecast calls for wind in the DC-Metro area. This ought to be fun. I've got one other major project: there's a huge cargo pallet still out back. It needs to be moved to where the other pallets are (at the head of our driveway, where they can be easily loaded into Dad's van), but that particular pallet is very hard to move: it's the size and weight of four normal pallets. I'm strong enough to carry two pallets at a time, but the only way I'm getting this super-pallet across the yard is by either (1) a combination of end-over-end flipping and dragging, or (2) chopping that sucker into smaller pallets with an axe. I'd rather not ruin the yard any further by dragging this thing; it'd make some nasty-deep furrows.

Actually, there is a third possibility: my brother David might be coming over Saturday afternoon, so he and I might be able to move the superpallet together. I might just wait for David to show up. Then again... in order to throw the pallet away, it's going to have to be chopped up, anyway, ja?

So! Calling Mr. Axe...


_

guess what's missing

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T