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VSLive Las Vegas, days 0-1

Here’s a few notes from the trip thus far:

Yesterday at 7:20pm:

amazing, flying to vegas means flying over los angeles. i just saw the 405, the getty center, the 10, the wilshire corridor, westwood and ucla, palms and my apartment building!, century city, miles and miles of residential grid that makes up west l.a., midcity, and k-town, the rose bowl, silverlake resevoir(?), the 101 and some big body of water north of the sfv! now back to wc3.

it’s funny, i’m eating the same peanuts that my dad used to bring home from his occasional business trips.

Eating has been hard to control. I’m determined to workout tonight.

Do NOT use hotwire.com. Their “reduced” rates are the same as those offered on Expedia. Total total BS. And totally misleading you into thinking you’re not gonna get stuck in a god-damned dump like Circus freaking Circus. Jesus. Now that’s what I call annoying.

Got a big car for rental. Chevy Impala. Stop drooling.

Tropicana is much more acceptable than I thought it would be. Casino is kinda lame (only two roulette tables and 4 blackjack tables?!) but no big deal. Nice staff.

Conference rooms are freezing. Lots of food though. And wireless internet, which is my only access. Windows Communication Framework (aka Indigo and .NET 3.0 distributed computing framework) seems to do a pretty good job of abstracting the many layers and concepts of service-oriented architectures and of unifying the many Microsoft distributed computing technologies (SOAP, WSE, remoting, MSMQ (?), …). Makes me want to play with it… but later… this workshop is dragging and dragging. High-density information overload.

Made some roulette moolah yesterday. Feeling lucky, I tell ya. Except when it comes to booking god-damned freaking rooms.

Endorphin explosion!

No, that title doesn’t refer to a new all-night electronic music party. It refers to what I’m currently feeling, just minutes from my Vegas departure, after finding out I passed my Spanish class! Meaning for all intents and purposes, I’ve completed all the requirements for my undergraduate degree. IT’S OFFICIAL!!!

FREEEEEEEEEEEEDOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!! Finally, the relief I only dreamt of during my graduation ceremonies!

And now… I’m off!

Too efficient

I’m writing this from Perloff Hall courtyard and in the distance is the sound of Celtic flute music. Strangely relaxing.

To me efficiency means getting the greatest relative return for the least investment of resources possible, or getting the most bang for your buck, in a manner of speaking.

Or getting away with being lazy, in another manner of speaking.

Basically this comes down to reducing any hedge in your investment and increasing your risk. Obviously then, sometimes the risks overcome your investment, and you get screwed. Specifically, I’m thinking of investment of time and effort into some time-constrained project. If all you need is a C on tomorrow’s essay to pass the class, or all you need is to implement features XYZ by next week, then investing extra effort into the project is inefficient, right? Right. So I routinely cut it as close as possible, and inevitably end up striving for too much efficiency, when the project proves unsuccessful for the amount of investment I made.

The prime example from my life is my progression through college. There were times when I was pulled off amazing feats of efficiency. Procrastinating all quarter and then only studying for 30 minutes before a final and still getting a B, which was sufficient for me. There were other times when I used the same resources allocation and didn’t quite get the B.

Now might be one of those times.

Long story short, the Spanish class I took at SMC was 16-weeks of torment. About 25% of the grade was based on attendance, mostly in the form of independent, untested “lab” hours. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?! That is not a college level curriculum. Anyway, I have horrible attendance practices and basically handicapped myself this quarter.

There are a few ways of looking at it. One way is that I wanted to make this class more of a challenge. It’s a valid, though untrue, perspective. Another is that I wanted to pay tribute to the feeling of hopeless despair that tormented me for years while I battled school. Bold, saucy, inaccurate. More accurate would be that I was struggling to adapt to fulltime job, crapifying health, commuting to class at night, senioritis, all while broke. Excuses, excuses.

So I was going to remain tight-lipped about this, but after a year of blogging, I’ve discovered the many benefits of transparency: clearer mind, less stress, more organized thoughts and focus, enriching self-reflection, more directed actions, etc.

So now I wait for my final grade. And that clearer mind. Until then, it seems like the only thing that gives me peace or hope is the fight-on attitude expressed in this take by that little virtual amphibian who has been embraced by countless morons around the world. Take it away, Crazy Frog.


The homestretch, my homesnakes

Finally. Finally. Finally.

Finally.

Only two days of undergraduate education left. Tonight, and my final next Wednesday.

Finally, my homesnakes.

Finally.

Lost season 2 finale thoughts

SPOILER ALERT. This post references the Lost plot through the season 2 finale.

OK, I’m posting this here first: my theory on what’s happening in Lost.

First we start with Raminski or whatever his name is (if he in fact ever existed). The guy in the hatch when Desmond arrived (I’ll call him X since I don’t recall his name), said that Raminksi (”R” from now on) decided to edit some of the footage from the orientation tape. I’m assuming this is the footage that Ecko found. How did it end up in that other hatch? R must have known about the other hatch and hidden it there. That means R probably knew more about the island than X (though I don’t know why R started that invisible map, but it might have to do with the notion that the observers in the Pearl wouldn’t see it.) That footage merely stated to not use the computer to do anything but input the numbers. Did R make this edit before or after X arrived? And for that matter did X and R start their work in the hatch (Swan) at the same time?

Anyway, I’m thinking that the computer in The Pearl is linked to the one in The Swan. Indeed I’m assuming that this is how the others communicated with Michael. Anyway, for some reason R wanted future recruits to not be afraid to use the computers to interact with people from the Pearl. But clearly it was the Pearl people who were being studied, (or is this too obvious?) since A) the work in the Swan hatch was real, and B) the notes from the Pearl went to a field in the middle of nowhere.

I believe the Others were part of the original Dharma Initiative team, or at least thought they were. They were typical research scientists and were assigned to work in the Pearl and maybe some other fake hatches, but they eventually discovered that they were being manipulated and that they themselves were actually the subjects of the experiments. Indeed, they were familiar with the terrain around the location where the Pearl notes were being dumped. And now the Others don’t know whether or not to trust the people from the plane, probably because of some other insane psychological testing that went on before flight 815 went down.

Of course we still don’t know who to trust and who might be undercover for the real Dharma team. We think we now know how the flight crashed, but we don’t know why all the main characters are linked. We also think we know what the Swan was used for, but it may still be something else entirely and we’re only being led to believe it’s a geo-electromagnetic discharger. We are also led to believe that the Others are acting primitive and that their leader is named Tom–that part seemed so forced. This may in fact be part of the act; the beard, glue and make up might have been planted where they knew Kate would find it, and Walt may have been coerced into saying “Don’t believe them, they’re not what they seem!” or whatever he said. And the fake camp that the Others lived in was meant to be found in the event that Michael was forced to reveal some information about the deal he struck. It also seems that Henry is the leader of the Others but that may also be for manipulative or other reasons.

Many questions remain: where did the polar bears come from/why can Walt summon animals? Why was Libby in the looney bin… was it related to her father’s death? What do the other hatches do? What’s the significance/power of the numbers? Who’s Persephone on the Hanso Foundation website, though I don’t think that identity is central to the Lost island/TV plot. What incident caused the Swan to be constructed? What’s the deal with the whispering associated with the Others? What’s Alex’s story? What happened to Rousseau? Did “Henry” really not enter the numbers? What’s with the vaccines? What’s Scott’s back story? Is anyone living in the caves anymore? Where were the bodies that they found in the cave from? How did Ecko’s brother’s plane crash on the island? How did Ecko know the work in the Swan was legitimate? Where did the pallet of supplies from Dharma come from? What happened to the rest of Rousseau’s group, or is Rousseau even who she says she is? Does she work for Dharma? Or the Others?How did John lose his ability to walk, and how did he regain it?

New questions have arisen: What exactly were X and Desmond triggering when they shorted the wires in the electrical box and the doors came down? Why was Desmond discharged? (I missed the first 10 minutes.) What was the bright light and noise when the timer ran out? Why weren’t the Others concerned about it? What’s at 325 degrees away from the island? Anything? What happened to Sayid? What happened to Jin and Sun? Why did Charlie act surprised that Ecko and John weren’t back yet when he knew that he left before them? Seems fishy. Did Ecko and John and Desmond survive? Was there greater significance to the quote that the woman Desmond loved said “All you need to survive is someone to love you” or whatever, since clearly she was still trying to find him (”you can find anything with enough money”) and somehow knew he would be around electromagnetic stuff? Is her father involved in Hanso? Where the hell were those other guys? What’s the significance of www.hansocareers.com? Of course, why did they want Jack, Sawyer and Kate? Was it Sayid that actually lit the signal fire? What was the deal with the bird that called Hurley’s name? What happened to that cloud monster? What’s the significance of the names of Libby’s husband and the boat? Why didn’t X’s reinforcements ever arrive? And the most interesting one to me: What the hell is up with the four-toed statue?! Maybe a remnant of a psycological test administered by Dharma on the Others? Or maybe a cultural relic from another species of humans that existed long ago on this island?

It’s amazing how this season Lost kind of limped along with a bunch of crap episodes (Rose flashback, and a bunch of other lame flashbacks) and then this episode zooms to 2000MPH and introduces more plot turns and twists than almost in the last two seasons combined. It’s also interesting that production of the show is only about half a season ahead of airing, otherwise Ana Lucia wouldn’t have been killed off so quickly after upsetting the producers. So the plot is still a little flexible. And man, I gotta catch up on the Lost Diary plot on the official Lost website. I heard they are experiencing there own mysterious circumstances.

Anyway, I think most of the weird phenomena (including telepathic powers or visions, except for Walt’s) can be explained as psychological tests or other experiments that the real Dharma conducted on the Others, possibly utilizing natural phenomena pre-existing on the island.

Man I could continue this entry without end, so I’ll force myself to stop here. Feel free to share your thoughts below. Don’t worry, it’s safe. It’s not like I’m collecting your feedback for the Hanso Foundation. Or am I?

Coffee and bananas

Breakfast was the usual today, consisting of coffee and a banana. That’s my segue into the fact that I’m bananas about Madonna. But I wasn’t always.

I was like you once, loving reader. Alone, frightened, suffering from cotton-mouth and IBS. And controlled by the fear that around every corner lurked a strange being that would take over my soul. Satan? No, conformity. “Might I succumb to the dark side? Could my body, nay, my mind one day be co-opted by the forces of commercialism? NO. I must never let that happen. Madonna, I sweareth to thy hatred.”

Eventually I saw the light and all was well. But let’s make a short story long. As fate would have it’s way with me one groggy-eyed, post-SNL Saturday night in the summer of ‘05, I found myself watching Desperately Seeking Susan, and being simultaneously delighted and horrified. Actually I’m being rhetorical, the experience was strictly delightful, aurally and visually. You see, I grew up in a puritan household, pure of the sin of subjugation and appeasement of corporate marketing. It was a warm, loving place, where zombie-like consumerism was rewarded with ten lashings. Of a two-by-four. I don’t think I’d ever heard a complete Madonna song in my life, until that groggy-eyed, post-SNL Saturday night, and it was like, uh… “when your heart beats, next to mine.”

It was a physical attraction, a chemical reaction. Certain neuropsychiatric conditions set the stage for a catalysis, namely my feminst perspective, my increasing productivity, and my budding rejection of indie-elitism. Her carefree yet calculating charisma. The boppity-bop-bop of her tunes. The growth transitions of her life (nasal-to-gutteral timbre, heathen-turned-Kaballah-lady, baby-fat-turned-110%-lean-muscle-mass). I related on each level. In that moment, I saw the optimistic vision and worldview she that possessed and that I shared. I was awed by the stubborn, single-minded, unwielding, tenacious (maybe if I keep listing off synonyms I’ll find one strong enough to convey this thought) Zeus-like (found it) focus and self-faith she possessed, or that possessed her, and that needed nurturing in my life. I recognized, and admired, the visceral impact she had on the contemporary American psyche; who else has so handily managed to kick American capitalism in the nards and at the same time to tie it on a leash to be her love-slave? And coincidentally, in so doing she manifested all the skill and guile of an abusive patriarch, from dubya to Tyson. Indeed, who else so widely forced conscious recognition of the validity of female sexuality, undeniably advancing the feminist cause? Unlike so many academics who espoused strict gender equality, she proudly wore hers (albeit scantily) as a symbol of her core identity. Therefore, Madonna = liberal role model, QED.

At that pivotal time in my life, I unwittingly had been desparately seeking Madonna. Would’ve thunk?

So there you have it. Madonna shouldn’t be loathed, she should be worshipped. And since today I see her majesty Madge, in the flesh, at the Great Western Forum in the great western city of Inglewood, I devote today to Madonna evanglism. Which, among other things, means that not even at stop lights shall the volume of my car stereo be turned lower than 50.

HOLY CRAP!!

What have I done?! What are we doing? What are Nat and I doing tomorrow night?!

What what what?!!?! Man alive!!

MADONNA IN DA ‘WOOD, BOYEEE!! MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA MADONNA!

GASP!!

In Brief: Gym stats, props, and more props.

Real quick one.

First off, more gym numbers, until I get a formal tracking system up. Saturday, elliptical, 25 minutes, 312 calories, 1.8 miles, weighed 154lbs (lost nine pounds in a month!). Today, elliptical, 40 minutes (!!!), 512 calories, 3.1 miles, weighed 155lbs. So I’m not sure how I gained a pound, but today was a breakthrough workout for me. I think I finally got to that point where exercising releases endorphins, and for the first time ever, I felt like I could go indefinitely!! I never experienced that and it was great. The only thing that scared me was that my heart rate registered at 198bpm at one point (above my estimated maximum heart rate) and I slightly panicked and slowed down.

Second, thanks to Matt for mentioning my blog post on Coachella on his blog post on Coachella. I have yet to expound on my experience (too much to do, too little time, hence I bought this after seeing a mention to the acronym GTD on this to-do list web application review article) and I found his account very well-rounded and open-minded, something I see less and less these days as the indie scene turns against itself and morphs into an elitist-dogpile/crabs-in-a-bucket/DIY-turned-desperate-housewives social-hierarchy mess. Everyone wants to feel important but the lamest way to do that is to just jump on the rip-on-anything-outside-of-your-myopic-worldview bandwagon. (Have you had enough hyphenated-adjective-phrases yet?! How about all caps?!) In conclusion, WHO THE HELL CARES IF YOU DON’T LIKE MADONNA?! THE COACHELLA ORGANIZERS SURE AS HELL DON’T. AND NEITHER DO I.

Lastly, props to PBS. Tonight was the first time I actually got sucked into television since I started watching Lost. But with Lost I had to watch three episodes before I was hooked. And SVU and ER are a matter of convenience. But I was flipping channels and came across a Frontline/World episode about Hamas, and then a special about Massachusetts teens born of Cambodian immigrants. The shows were so engrossing; I’ve already checked KCET’s website for their programming schedule. (I know where my next charitable contribution is going.) I’m not gonna bother describing it further ’cause I can already see your mouse cursor moving away to click off to somewhere else, but man, they have some really real shows. Pure authenticity and genuineness. Pure humanity.

Update: Forgot to document that when I was doing the elliptical it was set to level 10.

Improv in our locale

So you wanna get down with the alligator clowns, who know no mess-around, and rock the L.A. town? Then step to the left, no step to the right, I mean move ya cursor down and go to this website. Cuz we be rockin, and roll’n, we don’t know where we go’n but right now we set the tone, so we later get the bone — if you know what I mean, cuz let me come clean, I’ll admit there’s some mystery in what I scream. We’ll be out in full force like some Jedi fighters, don’t turn around now but-you’re-in-my-blaster’s-sighter. In my other hand is my saber de lighter, gonna slash open your head like some cranial divider if you don’t click that link and get on over here, where you can dance, and sing, and do a little cheer. Cuz if there’s one thing I want to make perfectly clear, it’s that this link holds the power if you have no fear.

First see this: Flash mob, Best Buy, NYC.

Then see this: First L.A. meetup.

Then raise your arm and pump your fist!

The heart of the desert

I’m listening to The Go! Team’s “Everyone Is a V.I.P. to Someone” right now, and it’s nostalgic poignancy (in both musical style and because they played it yesterday) is really crystallizing the sense of awe with which the quickly-deserting Coachella has left me.

Without going into details (yet), Coachella was an absolutely amazing experience, one of those increasingly rare moments in life when you feel like you’re actually experiencing something new again, something that ignites you to imagine the future with brilliant new optimism. For so many people to gather together (and to spend their pragmatically-precious time and money to do so) to experience and support earnest music is deeply uplifting. It is so reassuring to see that this kind of appreciation, which is really a compassionate appreciation of human emotion (as is all art appreciation), cannot be extinguished by the forces of conformity that exist in contemporary American society. (Indeed, there were multitudinous expressions of anti-Bush sentiment.)

I already miss Coachella.

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