Vicariism in a bottle

I don't think I'll be able to maintain any kind of interest in the primaries anymore, especially since my state is over and done. I've suddenly made the realization that this whole thing is like the previews before the movie... seriously, who cares? When the two candidates are finally selected and finally get to the real meat of their campaign platforms, I'll pay attention again.



Hillary won Florida. I can't say I'm too surprised. And for the record, I'm not calling her by her first name because of some misogynistic agenda. Every time I hear "Clinton" I think of Bill, so this is my way of differentiating between the power couple.



Alas, Edwards is out of the race. He didn't even win South Carolina, his home state. No word yet on who he's endorsing. I'm hoping he gets the Vice President slot when that time comes.

Shanky's on the long road to Kenya. But the long road has also been good to him. Check him out.

I'm so jealous.

Shrouded by faceless compatriots

So it's been quite awhile since I've last stepped into the shoes of my belovedly feisty dwarf priest or my quirky but deadly gnome warlock. If you don't know what I'm talking about, just sit tight.

I never understood why people liked to put down other people over something as minor as internet gaming. And I have yet to draw a logical conclusion as to why some people make a distinction between console gaming and PC gaming, targeting PC gaming as something inherently unacceptable. Some people look down on this hobby seated on lofty pedestals while expending hours playing Halo or some other equally mindlessly violent console game. And then there are people who pass judgment without ever even trying to grasp or understand the experience that is loved by millions of their peers.

It's so easy for people to focus only on the negative aspects. And it's true; I will be the first to admit the dark side of this hobby and industry. In 2001, a man left his infant son to cry to himself in a closet while he played Everquest, and after a 24+ hour session in front of his computer, he discovered his son's corpse. A 13 year-old boy in China lept to his death as a supposed result of his addiction. And nevermind the countless students around the world that have failed classes or dropped out of school/university because of their time management.

Recently, there was a Virginia Tech suicide that people are linking to his World of Warcraft addiction.

But the percentage of players who fall into these categories probably wouldn't fill more than 1% of the entire population, and I'd bet money on that. And besides, where would you place the blame? Do you blame the product, the producer, or the consumer? So many people are quick to blame the product and the producer, and this fact transcends markets.

People place blame for obesity on McDonald's, but don't recognize the fact that they hop into a car to travel the 3 blocks it takes to get there. Why not walk off some of the calories that you're going to consume?

People blame cigarettes and Big Tobacco for health issues, and seem to invest nearly incontrovertible effectiveness in the power of cigarette marketing. It's as if we don't know any better and can always be easily swayed by neon lights and beautiful people.

People blame guns for the deaths that result from them, thinking that if they're outlawed, the amount of gun fatalities will magically decrease. Well, illicit drugs are illegal, have we seen a drop in deaths from them?

It's time to place accountability on the individual. People need to take responsibility for themselves and their children. And everyone else needs to recognize this. If your child is spending 8 hours a night in front of the computer, put your damn foot down and stop it instead of blaming Vivendi for internet nicotine. If you have to choose between studying for that chemistry final or joining your buddies on a raid-and-pillage, opt out for the textbooks. And if you see a loved one losing themselves in such a game, recognize the fact that helping them and removing the game are two completely different things.

Life has rolled on, and my obligations elsewhere have built up to the point where I can no longer devote a couple hours every day to relax with my WoW social network. If I had the time to spare, would I go back? I think I would. That's the thing that most people have a hard time understanding, I think. It is a real, tangible social network that you build in games like these.

Look back to the Virginia Tech kid that shot himself. His internet network were the only ones who knew something was wrong, and they gave enough of a damn to try and intervene. They were the outlet of his cry for help.

Back in high school, when I was a subscriber to Everquest, I spent every night with a group of no less than 60 people from around the world. And I knew each and every one of them personally. There was Raoul from Stockholm, a college student who liked to rant about tourists and talk about his dreams of moving to South Africa. There was Jody and Harold, a married couple from Minneapolis that got pulled into the game because of their son, Mark, and they decided it was a healthy form of family bonding. There was Pattie from New Zealand, who got up early every morning just to go on adventures with us, and imparted her love of cooking to me. She was a pastry chef. And the list goes on.

My experience with World of Warcraft was nearly identical. Ryan and Reagan are two high school sweethearts that moved to Houston for college, crazy kids who still insist that I come visit so they can buy me that long-awaited beer. There's Tim, Don, and Sarah, three thirtysomethings from New England who meet up every month to go barhopping in NYC and yell at the college kids. Over the course of a year they've expanded to include Sarah's husband and Tim's brother and wife, all of whom have started playing. They always tell me that if I lived closer, they'd drag me along with them. They don't seem to mind that I'm the same age as the kids they enjoy heckling. And then there's Paul and Lena, a married couple right here in Atlanta that live in Decatur. Paul's an architect, and Lena's a homemaker for their two infant children. Ironically, both are staunch defenders of the gamer lifestyle, but readily admit that they'll drop the game as soon as their children are old enough to require more attention. That is, until their kids head off to college. And of course, the list goes on.

And I'm still in touch with the majority of both groups.

Is it a substitute for the real world? No, and I'll never think so. But there's real value there.

In a lot of ways, it's similar to why I'm still with AIESEC. You come together with people from around the world and establish a wordless rapport based on common ground. With AIESEC, it's a desire to develop ourselves and improve the world. With MMO's, it's wanderlust and curiosity for an internet dreamscape. And with the advent of software like Skype and Ventrilo, those personal relationships are much easier to build.

I feel like I've digressed. Suffice it to say, it's an experience and feeling that is hard to describe. And it doesn't always induce negative responses like those portrayed in the media and pop culture.

Fade to black... adieu

Um.

I'm mad.
I'm mad that every journalist and their cousin feels like treating the death of this beautiful, talented man as open season to pad their wallets. I'm mad that everyone feels it's their prerogative to gossip and speculate on the circumstances of his passing. I'm mad that this proves just how little respect there is for people now. And I'm mad that, in a lot of ways, I am no exception.

And I'm annoyed.
I'm annoyed that Western society is showing its true colors in how obsessed it is with celebrities. I'm annoyed that this event has eclipsed the ongoing conflicts in Sudan, Pakistan, and Iran. I'm annoyed that American "news" media is even more ridiculous and worthless. And I'm annoyed that all anyone can say is "Britney is next."

But I'm also sad.
I'm sad in a way that's reminiscent of the aftermath of Princess Di's car wreck years ago. I'm sad because I'm sad, in a circular way that can only be explained by inexplicable guilt. I'm sad that after the summer Batman movie, I will never again get to experience his genius cinematic presence. And I'm sad because I can't imagine the agony that must be eating away at Michelle, and I can only imagine the sorrow that awaits his daughter.

Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good."
-W.H. Auden

Of brambles and brilliance

Barack Obama spoke at the Ebenezer Baptist Church here in Atlanta on Martin Luther King Day yesterday, and his speech was an oasis in an otherwise scorchingly ridiculous pre-election environment. Even though there are subtle hues of politics dusted throughout his words, it feels much less political than everything else that has sprouted from all this presidential fervor.

Maybe it's because it was in a church. Maybe it was the holiday. Maybe it was the intended audience. And maybe it's my own subjective view of it.

I'm not black. I'm not an "African American". Hell, I'm not even Christian. And nevermind what my partisanship is. I was still touched by Obama's exhortations, and it wasn't because I felt guilty of the things he was ranting about. It wasn't because I sympathized with Ashley or identified with the old black man in her discussion circle.

The state of the nation was so starkly illuminated that it made me uneasy. It's the same feeling most people get when they're on stage for the first time, or are caught nude in a public place. It was disturbing to realize that what Obama was saying about the black community could also be applied to nearly every other racial minority. The "yellows". The "browns". They all experience the circumstances that he brought up to varying degrees. I had always told myself that race was a non-issue in today's world, but I had been fooling myself. I live in the big cities, the global centers. Most people don't. There's a different culture in Seattle compared to the one here in Atlanta. Different slang, different values, different needs. And I'm not implying that certain folks are more inclined to racism. The point (and overarching implication) is that it's so hard to connect on a real level with every single one of your countrymen. Sometimes the differences and rivalries make it so easy to ignore the similarities and amities. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try, and it doesn't mean we shouldn't care.

And that's just race. Nevermind the social classes, cultural identities, and economic demarkation. With so many permutations of American citizens out there, just how easy can we expect the fight against "Divide and Conquer" to be?

"I'm talking about a moral deficit. I'm talking about an empathy deficit. I'm taking about an inability to recognize ourselves in one another; to understand that we are our brother's keeper; we are our sister's keeper; that, in the words of Dr. King, we are all tied together in a single garment of destiny."

Again, I don't know how pertinent this is to election politics. A part of me will always be suspicious of those who seek to capitalize on the unifying power of nationalism. And I will always believe that social change has to start with and within the people. Politics should not be the means for this. The true litmus test for real social change is if adjudication isn't necessary.

Still, it doesn't diminish the anticipation of the warm fuzzies.

Vivid machination, coarse inspiration

I used to wonder why artists, writers, and artisans in general took sabbaticals. Now I think I realize why.

There's nothing more incendiary to your imagination like the deprivation of the senses and restriction of action.

Of course, I'm ruling out the muses that ride in on chariots of emotional turmoil. But you can't force those, so why try?

I rendered this image on PhotoShop out of sheer curiosity and fascination.

The influence? The White Tree of Gondor.

Dancing on garrulous grains

LOOK AT THAT! AGAINST THE WHITE BUILDING!

SNOW! IN ATLANTA!


... ok I realize this is now a yearly occasion (word to yo' mutha, global warming), and I know that I should have gotten my fill of the fluffy white stuff whilst in Montreal.

BUT STILL!


Update:
Good god the snow decided to rain down from the heavens with even MORE clamorous fervor! Walking to and from my class in Tech Square was hazardously breathtaking.

Glossing over insidious glamour

I'm never going to get that NC blog entry out. It just ain't happening. By the time I have the time to get it all out, it'll be time to head to NLDC (knock on wood). Alas, this picture will have to suffice.



Quirkiest picture from the entire conference, even though it wasn't even at the conference.

In other news, RoKS applications went out today. I'm waging an internal war over whether or not I want to apply for anything. The general OC positions seem like they'd be better off in the hands of newer members, and the Conference Manager position looks extremely daunting. If anything, I might just buckle under the pressure and hold out for a simple faci position. Who knows. I have until the 25th to decide.

Speaking of conferences, MENALDS and APXPROS are the only conferences over Spring Break. I would love to go to either, but I don't qualify for an XPROS and MENALDS is going to be expensive as balls. I was really hoping for a cheaper-travel conference option like Spain or Mexico or even the UK, but I guess it's not to be this year.

Recruitment is plugging along. There's no better way to put it.
And so are classes.



Here's lookin' at you, kid.

Scaling the felt mountains

Finished the first week of classes.

I am deliciously not sober.

Enjoying gluttonously fattenining McDonald's at 3am.

Watching VH1.

More to come later!

Rendered credulous by glee

After the final numbers from New Hampshire came in, Hillary managed to edge out Obama by a few percent, rocketing up from a double digit loss. Not that I support her more than Obama or even Edwards, but that still deserves a "You go, girl!"

I have the most retarded class schedule ever concocted by a Tech alum, and that's saying something. On Mondays and Wednesdays, I have class from 8-11am, and then again from 6-7:30pm. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have class from 9:30-11am and then again from 12-1:30pm. Fridays are the same as Mondays and Wednesdays with the exception of the omission of the night class.

What. The. Fuck.

I guess my T/R schedule isn't that bad.

I promise that I'm going to write about NC some time soon. Trust me. There are a lot of things sitting in my outbox as drafts, and I'm in the process of refining them into something worth posting on the interweb.

Time to jump back into the fray!

Incite our breathless wanderlust

Huckabee pulled ahead in the Iowa caucus. Gag me with a chainsaw.

Resolutions:

1. Less red meat. Less salt. Less sugar.
2. Sleep normally.
3. Express appreciation more frequently. And more ardently.
4. Shake off all forms of codependence.
and 5. Love openly.

Just came back from Canada's NC 2008! AWESOMENESS! More to come later, I promise. But right now I have a mountain of laundry to tackle.