Your Aspie score: 97 of 200
Your neurotypical (non-autistic) score: 105 of 200
You seem to have both Aspie and neurotypical traits
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
I Have No Idea What This Means
I found this survey on my friend Fuzzy's page. It sounded interesting. It's very long, for an Internet quiz. I don't know what any of it means. Do you?
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Maybe Next Time, NaNoWriMo
Tomorrow is Halloween, and for the last two years that has meant only one thing for me: National Novel Writing Month starts in two days. The event made November one of my favorite months. Samples of my NaNoWriMo output can be found here on this very site. It isn't, you know, good, but I'm still proud of it. And the bound copies of my manuscripts — the trophies, if you will, for crossing the 50,000 word threshold — look interesting on my book shelf.
After much deliberation, I have decided to forgo participating this year. I am a little sad about it, but mostly I am relieved. Cranking out three plays in the last two months has left me a bit dazed. I still have performances four nights a week, but I am grateful to finally have a couple of nights to spend with my wife.
Also, I have a couple of writing projects cooking, and I'd rather not set them aside right now. Last night was the last session of my writing class, and I left it with a clearer idea of my goals. Part of that means that I need to slow down a little and focus on the quality of my output. I found, the last two years, that once I typed "The End" on my projects I had a hard time going back for revisions. The size of the task was overwhelming, but also I felt I had already accomplished what I set out to do. I told the story. Time to move on.
This is, I feel, the wrong attitude if I ever want to get this stuff published. But I've learned that I'm not the kind of writer who can complete a draft, set it aside, and then pick it up again to begin revisions. I need to keep on it, polishing as I go, doubling back, cutting and pasting and tinkering and adjusting until I am finally happy with the result. That is the approach I want to use with my current projects, anyway, and NaNoWriMo, for all its wonderful aspects, does not lend itself to that style of work.
I have not given up on NaNoWriMo forever, though. Maybe next year will be a little less chaotic. If so, I will probably dive in once more. In the meantime, I want to wish everyone who does commit to this year's month-long writing frenzy the best of luck. It's some of the most fun I've ever had.
After much deliberation, I have decided to forgo participating this year. I am a little sad about it, but mostly I am relieved. Cranking out three plays in the last two months has left me a bit dazed. I still have performances four nights a week, but I am grateful to finally have a couple of nights to spend with my wife.
Also, I have a couple of writing projects cooking, and I'd rather not set them aside right now. Last night was the last session of my writing class, and I left it with a clearer idea of my goals. Part of that means that I need to slow down a little and focus on the quality of my output. I found, the last two years, that once I typed "The End" on my projects I had a hard time going back for revisions. The size of the task was overwhelming, but also I felt I had already accomplished what I set out to do. I told the story. Time to move on.
This is, I feel, the wrong attitude if I ever want to get this stuff published. But I've learned that I'm not the kind of writer who can complete a draft, set it aside, and then pick it up again to begin revisions. I need to keep on it, polishing as I go, doubling back, cutting and pasting and tinkering and adjusting until I am finally happy with the result. That is the approach I want to use with my current projects, anyway, and NaNoWriMo, for all its wonderful aspects, does not lend itself to that style of work.
I have not given up on NaNoWriMo forever, though. Maybe next year will be a little less chaotic. If so, I will probably dive in once more. In the meantime, I want to wish everyone who does commit to this year's month-long writing frenzy the best of luck. It's some of the most fun I've ever had.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Chalk and Emma
Chalk opens tomorrow! Finally! I tell you, I haven't worked this hard on a show in years. My knees are killing me. It'll all be worthwhile, though. Here are the details:
Tickets are $15, $10 for students and seniors. You can reserve tickets through the Chicago Department of Cultural Affairs website.
Also, Emma opened last week. The reviews have been mixed, but generally positive. The show is, however, Jeff Recommended. The details for Emma are as follows:
For information or reservations call 773-384-0494.
I'll see you on the night!
October 26 — November 25
Thursdays — Saturdays at 7:30 PM and Sundays at 3:00 PM
No performance Thursday, November 22
Studio Theater
Chicago Cultural Center
77 E. Randolph St.
Tickets are $15, $10 for students and seniors. You can reserve tickets through the Chicago Department of Cultural Affairs website.
Also, Emma opened last week. The reviews have been mixed, but generally positive. The show is, however, Jeff Recommended. The details for Emma are as follows:
October 18 — December 1
Thursdays — Saturdays at 8:00
No performance Thursday, November 22
Trap Door Theatre
1655 West Cortland Ave.
For information or reservations call 773-384-0494.
I'll see you on the night!
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
This Can't Be Right
According to a recent survey, sixty percent of the adult population of the United States believes in a literal interpretation of the Book of Genesis where it states that God created the universe in six days. An appalling majority held several other Biblical stories to be literally true, as well. The only good news from this survey was the indication that people with more education tended toward less literal interpretations.
I think that if I were forced to accept the characters in the Christian stories as actual existing entities then I would be a Satanist. It's not that I think evil is groovy, or anything like that; I just don't get why anyone would worship a being who punishes you for acquiring knowledge. There's something creepy and Orwellian about that, don't you think?
I think that if I were forced to accept the characters in the Christian stories as actual existing entities then I would be a Satanist. It's not that I think evil is groovy, or anything like that; I just don't get why anyone would worship a being who punishes you for acquiring knowledge. There's something creepy and Orwellian about that, don't you think?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Three Years and Counting
Today is my and my lovely wife Mandy's third anniversary. That's three years of undiluted Awesome. We should find a way to bottle it and sell it at high-end boutiques, although this brand of Awesome is so potent it may require a prescription.
Happy Anniversary, Mandy!
Happy Anniversary, Mandy!
Friday, October 19, 2007
I Thought There Were No Sharks to Jump In Dillon, Texas
FAIR WARNING: I'm going to talk about stuff that has occurred on the show Friday Night Lights. I'm not going to mention anything that hasn't already aired, but if you're still catching up and wish to remain unspoiled, cease reading now.
* * * * *
For the 2006-2007 television season the finest show you could watch without stealing cable from your neighbor was Friday Night Lights. During its first season no other show could compare in quality of writing, performance, or direction. Anchored by the relationship between Eric Taylor (Kyle Chandler), a first-year high school football coach, and his wife Tami (Connie Britton), a guidance counselor at the same school, Friday Night Lights painted a vivid portrait of small-town family life. The student characters each fit certain archetypes but were written and acted so brilliantly that they transcended the mold of the typical high school drama. And, of course, there was football. But before anyone throws out the tired argument that "I don't like sports, therefore I have no need for this show," be aware that football is merely the MacGuffin that ties these characters together. The show is not about football, any more than Pulp Fiction was about Marcellus Wallace's briefcase. That said, however, Friday Night Lights offered a special insight into the psychology of the game.
The show's first season traced the team's efforts to win the state championship. After twenty-plus episodes, the Dillon Panthers' victory in the season finale was more cathartic than any feel-good sports movie ever made.
The first-season finale also offered tantalizing possibilities for the direction the show would take in its second season. Paralyzed star quarterback Jason Street had found an interesting new niche for himself, while still pursuing his dream of playing professional quad rugby. Quirky nerd Landry Clarke and reforming wild girl Tyra Collette formed a unique and entertaining friendship. Coach Taylor accepted a new job coaching at the college level — even though it meant being separated from his family for months at a time. And Tami Taylor learned she was having a baby.
Season Two started up a couple of weeks ago, and the first forty-five minutes or so of the premiere episode were like slipping into a comfy pair of sweatpants that just came out of the dryer. The Taylors had their baby, Grace. Their older daughter Julie was having doubts about her relationship with shy star quarterback Matt Saracen. Smash Williams was cocky as ever. Tim Riggins was drunk and scoring left and right — just not on the football field. Lyla Garrity went and found Jesus, which would be ridiculous for anybody but her. And her dad, Buddy, received a well-deserved insult from new football coach Bill McGregor that had to make any fan of the show smile a little.
And then, all of a sudden, I found myself watching an episode from one of the later seasons of Beverly Hills 90210.
See, during the first season, an unnamed creepy dude attacked Tyra Collette. Being the badass that she is, Tyra fought him off. Landry Clarke found her a little while later, and this event began an interesting bonding process between these two characters. The way these characters dealt with the event over the rest of the season remained both realistic and dramatically satisfying.
During the second-season premiere this creepy dude shows up again and attempts to up the ante, as it were, between himself and Tyra. After a brief altercation the man makes a few threatening remarks and then walks away, at which point Landry picks up a piece of metal and beats the guy to death with it. I KNOW.
Perhaps I am being melodramatic. Landry hit the guy twice. The first one put him on the ground; the second is what probably killed him. But still, right? I mean, it wasn't even self-defense. The guy was walking away. And then, to add a big sloppy fart to this turd of a plotline, Landry and Tyra dispose of the body by throwing it in a river. What the hell happened to my show?
It's simple enough to see where the show went wrong: The guy should not have died. Severely hurt, sure. Landry and Tyra would have to deal with the consequences, but the characters' cores would remain unaltered. But now? Now, whatever happened before is irrelevant. For these two characters the show can be about nothing but They Killed A Guy. No more fun banter between Landry and his best friend Matt Saracen about girls. No more snarky quips about high school lameness between Tyra and Julie Taylor. Because even if these events occur again, there is no way to view them without the They Killed A Guy filter. And that just makes me sad. If I wanted stories about teenagers committing murder I'd watch The O.C.
The third episode of Season Two airs tonight. Jesse Plemons (Landry) and Adrianne Palicki (Tyra) are excellent actors with a chemistry that is a joy to watch. They deserve a better story than this. Here's hoping the writers — who have displayed genius before — can find a way to dig themselves out of this hole.
For the 2006-2007 television season the finest show you could watch without stealing cable from your neighbor was Friday Night Lights. During its first season no other show could compare in quality of writing, performance, or direction. Anchored by the relationship between Eric Taylor (Kyle Chandler), a first-year high school football coach, and his wife Tami (Connie Britton), a guidance counselor at the same school, Friday Night Lights painted a vivid portrait of small-town family life. The student characters each fit certain archetypes but were written and acted so brilliantly that they transcended the mold of the typical high school drama. And, of course, there was football. But before anyone throws out the tired argument that "I don't like sports, therefore I have no need for this show," be aware that football is merely the MacGuffin that ties these characters together. The show is not about football, any more than Pulp Fiction was about Marcellus Wallace's briefcase. That said, however, Friday Night Lights offered a special insight into the psychology of the game.
The show's first season traced the team's efforts to win the state championship. After twenty-plus episodes, the Dillon Panthers' victory in the season finale was more cathartic than any feel-good sports movie ever made.
The first-season finale also offered tantalizing possibilities for the direction the show would take in its second season. Paralyzed star quarterback Jason Street had found an interesting new niche for himself, while still pursuing his dream of playing professional quad rugby. Quirky nerd Landry Clarke and reforming wild girl Tyra Collette formed a unique and entertaining friendship. Coach Taylor accepted a new job coaching at the college level — even though it meant being separated from his family for months at a time. And Tami Taylor learned she was having a baby.
Season Two started up a couple of weeks ago, and the first forty-five minutes or so of the premiere episode were like slipping into a comfy pair of sweatpants that just came out of the dryer. The Taylors had their baby, Grace. Their older daughter Julie was having doubts about her relationship with shy star quarterback Matt Saracen. Smash Williams was cocky as ever. Tim Riggins was drunk and scoring left and right — just not on the football field. Lyla Garrity went and found Jesus, which would be ridiculous for anybody but her. And her dad, Buddy, received a well-deserved insult from new football coach Bill McGregor that had to make any fan of the show smile a little.
And then, all of a sudden, I found myself watching an episode from one of the later seasons of Beverly Hills 90210.
See, during the first season, an unnamed creepy dude attacked Tyra Collette. Being the badass that she is, Tyra fought him off. Landry Clarke found her a little while later, and this event began an interesting bonding process between these two characters. The way these characters dealt with the event over the rest of the season remained both realistic and dramatically satisfying.
During the second-season premiere this creepy dude shows up again and attempts to up the ante, as it were, between himself and Tyra. After a brief altercation the man makes a few threatening remarks and then walks away, at which point Landry picks up a piece of metal and beats the guy to death with it. I KNOW.
Perhaps I am being melodramatic. Landry hit the guy twice. The first one put him on the ground; the second is what probably killed him. But still, right? I mean, it wasn't even self-defense. The guy was walking away. And then, to add a big sloppy fart to this turd of a plotline, Landry and Tyra dispose of the body by throwing it in a river. What the hell happened to my show?
It's simple enough to see where the show went wrong: The guy should not have died. Severely hurt, sure. Landry and Tyra would have to deal with the consequences, but the characters' cores would remain unaltered. But now? Now, whatever happened before is irrelevant. For these two characters the show can be about nothing but They Killed A Guy. No more fun banter between Landry and his best friend Matt Saracen about girls. No more snarky quips about high school lameness between Tyra and Julie Taylor. Because even if these events occur again, there is no way to view them without the They Killed A Guy filter. And that just makes me sad. If I wanted stories about teenagers committing murder I'd watch The O.C.
The third episode of Season Two airs tonight. Jesse Plemons (Landry) and Adrianne Palicki (Tyra) are excellent actors with a chemistry that is a joy to watch. They deserve a better story than this. Here's hoping the writers — who have displayed genius before — can find a way to dig themselves out of this hole.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Atheists SMASH!!!
The big criticism I hear about the New Wave of atheism is that we're all so damn angry. I had not noticed this myself, but maybe it's because I'm on the inside looking out. The prominent atheists I see on television don't seem particularly angry. Richard Dawkins comes across as pleasantly English, and Christopher Hitchens appears drunk and belligerent, but in a fun way. (I'm not saying he is drunk. But he does, on occasion, come across that way.) But I wouldn't describe it as angry.
Then I read Atheists and Anger on Greta Christina's Blog. I found it through a link on Pharyngula. Turns out, we atheists have a lot to be angry about.
I recommend the article because it is a list that should ring true not just for atheists, but really anyone who lays claim to rational, progressive thinking. I subscribed to the blog's feed, as well, because Greta Christina seems like one fascinating individual. Check it out.
Then I read Atheists and Anger on Greta Christina's Blog. I found it through a link on Pharyngula. Turns out, we atheists have a lot to be angry about.
I recommend the article because it is a list that should ring true not just for atheists, but really anyone who lays claim to rational, progressive thinking. I subscribed to the blog's feed, as well, because Greta Christina seems like one fascinating individual. Check it out.
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