Making Connections - Molly Millions & Quorra

Being a university student with some background in Literature and focusing on Culture Studies, I'm accustomed to making connections between and among texts. For instance, the character of Molly Millions in Gibson's novel Neuromancer. In his vision of the cyberpunk future, she is the definition of a femme fatale, a former prostitute turned "Razorgirl," a cyber-samurai if you will.

Of course, the only representation of Molly is on the cover of the novel, where we only see her face. The descriptions in the various books she appears in, though, have allowed fans to conjure a likeness that is more-or-less accepted.  Anyway, Neuromancer is one of those novels that influenced a great many things. Heck, it included the internet before it even existed (Gibson coined the term "cyberspace" himself).

Enter the world of Tron, a community existing within a computer system. The parallels between the Tron franchise and classic cyberpunk are quite apparent. I'd like to look at the character of Quorra, though: she's the Molly Millions of the film. Her appearance is similar, her fighting skills are similar, and she, too, is taught amidst an Asian-inspired aesthetic. Huh.


art by deadinsane, Neuromancer cover art (c) Ace 1984, Tron: Legacy movie still (c) Walt Disney Pictures

Global Climate Change

This is gonna be a short one, I think, though I have the potential to ramble on for quite a while. It's about climate change. But it's not about whether it's real or not. I don't care about that right now. I mean, I'm writing this beside a window that gives me a clear view of the foot of fresh snow outside (which I love, by the way. Not complaining about it yet!).

So what, then, am I wanting to say? This: there are mummified trees in the Arctic Circle. Scratch that, mummified forests. The logical conclusion is that at one time there were forests up there, meaning no ice. We're talking big trees, here, so the climate was right for large-scale plant growth for a substantial period of time.

Really, that's all I wanted to say. Yah, the polar ice is melting, and the slight increases in temperature and global sea level are wreaking some havoc with ecosystems and weather fronts, but who's to say that's unnatural now? A little threatening to us land mammals, sure. But if there were Arctic forests before, why not again?

photo by IngoEs

Corporeal Epiphany

I've known for a long time that I have body issues. My self-esteem stems from my shape, and the shape that I think I am. I'm one of those guys that girls envy: I'm tall, lean, and I never, ever gain weight. Recently I heard a testimony by a girl who was struggling with anorexia, and one of the things that she said really hit home: she never saw her body in entirety, only in isolated pieces. I'm the same way.

I have fat days. Seriously. I actually go to bed some days thinking I'm overweight. My BMI is 19. If I lived in the States, only 7% of males my height and age would be lighter than me. And I have fat days.

Recently, though, I came to a second realization about my issues with body image: they're the reason I have pursued tattooing. My personal perceptions have changed dramatically over the past few days with the completion of my large fire bird tattoo, and I'm starting to feel alright in my own skin again.

Maybe it's the constant desire to show the ink off, or the fact that I love the image permanently etched into my body, but things have changed for the better. I'm just hoping that my feelings will remain this way.

Now, don't get me wrong, I still endeavour to change a lot about myself. I'll probably never actually be at a weight I'm comfortable with, or be the size I want to be. It's funny sometimes how I have the same trouble as a lot of the girls I know, but in reverse.

Anyways, my plan is to be done with tattooing now. With about six and a half total hours of work on me I'm feeling satisfied. Maybe I'll end up hitting the gym more this year. Maybe. I'm a lazy fool, so we'll see what I look like come December.


all photos by vcateyesv

Kings and Queens of Drag

So, today was Spirit Day. Y'know, the purple-shirt event I blogged about a few weeks back? Yah, that's the one. I'm glad to say it was a super success! Many many hugs were given, even though I have no blue in me. Funny how that works.

We (yes, I wasn't alone in this. I'm not crazy, y'know) had many mixed reactions, from the enthusiastic spinning hugs to people ducking behind bushes to avoid us. Some people didn't know how to say 'no,' so they had their personal bubbles invaded. Others walked up wanting a 'post-midterm hug,' which we were more than happy to give. It was a good time.

Now, I bet you're wondering about that blog title: Kings and Queens of Drag. Well, I'm taking an anthropology of gender class, and it is finally starting to become interesting. The article I just finished reading featured some theory by Judith Butler, and one particular idea just can't be banished from my mind.

We're all in drag.

Think about it: what makes it natural for a man to dress and compose himself as "masculine?" Or a woman as "feminine?" By putting on those dresses and heels on Friday night, ladies, you're acting out gender. Guys, when you rock the oxford with a double-windsor you're performing gender.

Crazy, huh?

As a closing note, I'd like to say that the image is a promotional shot from the film Hedwig and the Angry Inch. I love that film to death. I highly recommend it to everyone. Yes, it's LGBTQ in nature, and a musical, and on the artsy side of film-making, but give it a chance.

Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna change out of my torn blue jeans and leather jacket and go to sleep.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch promotional photo (c) New Line Cinema

Minor Philosophy

If you had the choice between living for only six more months, but knowing those six months would be the happiest of your existence, or living a long but ultimately unsatisfying life, which would you choose? Why?

That was a question posed by my friend Ana Cristina to me via my Formspring account. My answer was less than satisfactory:

Six more months. It comes down to a personal philosophy I have, one that would take an entire blog post to explain. Huh, maybe I should get on that sometime.

Well, sometime has now arrived I believe, so I'll make an effort to explain that piece of personal philosophy here.

I once read an analogy about the pain-pleasure binary, long before I was studying these sorts of relationships at university. In fact, I think I might have read this particular analogy before I was in high school, even. It is as follows:

"Two men are standing on level ground, each with a large pile of bricks. Both are challenged to build a high tower with their pile. The first man immediately starts to stack his bricks, overlapping in such a way that the structure is sound. The second man instead takes a shovel and begins to dig a hole. Laughing, the first man taunts him.

"'We have the same number of bricks, fool! By starting your tower lower than mine it will be impossible to build one higher.'

"The second man smiles, but doesn't reply. Once he is happy with the depth of his hole, he begins to stack his bricks, emulating the pattern of the first man. The first man continues to taunt him.

"After some time, the second man's tower has achieved the same height as that of the first man. When the first man goes to start the next layer of his tower, it starts to wobble and sway. He braces it with his hands, but realizes that if he continues to build upwards the structure will fall.

"Seeing this, the second man smiles once more. Supported by a firm foundation, he continues to add layers of brick to his tower, winning the challenge."

The bricks represent the men's happiness, the ground their experience of pain or unhappiness. Even if the two men's towers had been equal in height, the second man would have used more of his bricks in constructing his.

Don't get it? Try to remember a time you were at your most sad state, at your lowest, if you will. One of my friends lost her best friend last year, and I wasn't sure what to do. Remember, I'm a green - I don't do well with emotional matters. So I wrote a short note reminding this friend that she had a whole family of supporters here at the university. I slipped the note under her door when she was in class with a teabag. She still maintains that that was one of the most thoughtful and caring things that anyone has ever done for her.

A note and a teabag.

Because she was at such a low point, coming back up to level ground was an enormous jump in her happiness.

Is this starting to make sense?

Now, back to the question at hand: would I rather take 6 months of bliss or a lifetime of mediocrity. There's a second part to my happiness philosophy that is integral to the answer I gave. Again, this will probably be most accessible if I frame it as a serious of questions to you.

Think about the best day or week you have ever had. What made that time so amazing? Likely, it was because something little went just right, and things kept going up from there. That's the key: things kept going up. The most recent experience you have becomes your base for comparison. Taking a very green approach to this, to continue being happy you need to have a more positive experience. Anything less will cause you to be unhappy, and experiences at the same "level" will likely not elicit any emotional response.

Look back at the example of my friend: had she been at level ground or in a state of happiness at the time, my gesture would have meant very little to her. Yes, she might have been thankful for my thoughfulness, but it would not have impacted her emotionally in the same way.

Savvy?

I think this post is becoming much too long. Feel free to fill up the comments section with questions, critiques, or your own personal philosophies.

tower photo by me

my Caffeine Landscape

I'm sitting in one of the many Starbucks I frequent as a student, and just finished reading two of the articles I wish to use in one of my research assignments. But this isn't about my assignments, or about my experience in Starbucks; it's about a concept that is now starting to make sense to me.

Nature isn't a thing, it's a relationship.

Think about it for a moment: what exactly do you define as nature? The forest outside town? The park down the street? The moss growing in the cracks on your walk? Now, try to come up for a definition of nature that can include all those things, but exclude all the things you feel aren't nature. It's hard, isn't it?

That's because nature isn't a thing, but a concept. Nature is nature because it is outside of yourself, because you define it by what it is not. You walk through nature, appreciate nature, maybe you even fight for nature, but yourself are never really part of nature, are you?

Nature is something with ownership. Nature is something with value. Nature, then, is something that can be sold, right? It isn't sold that often, though. What is sold is the experience of nature, the park pass or the kayak rental or the guided tour. Again, nature is something to be experienced.

Just thought I'd share that, since it's consuming my thoughts at the moment. Now, I'm studying culture (read: ideologies and power structures) and human/social geography, so that puts a bit of a slant on my views. Care to help correct that? What did you come up with to define nature?


pinecone photo by me

Proposals, of the Academic Sort

Today is the second of October, and yet I'm already having to research my term papers. Not just conceptualize them or toss ideas about in my mind, oh no. I have to find the articles I plan on using, read said articles, and write up reviews of those articles regarding their use towards my thesis. Might I mention that these papers are not due until December, and we've had only a month of classes. I'm not even sure what to expect from the courses at this point, much less figure out a thesis that is relevant to the course materials.

Can I start pulling hair out yet?

All that said, I actually do have an idea of what I want to write about; I just haven't found the necessary scholastic material to beef up my proposals. Here's what my two term projects look like at the moment:

For Culture, Space, and Politics I've been assigned a group (composed of some pretty awesome folks). Our plan is to write a blog (surprise!) about our experience with geography in Kelowna. Me? I'll be bringing my Cultural Studies side to this project, likely looking at issues of social structures and power relations. Sources? Zero of three.

For Geography of Tourism Development I have to write a traditional term paper. Right now I'm considering writing about the Maori of New Zealand, and how their culture (a phrase I have trouble with, as the culture shown in ads isn't really Maori culture, but a construction of what traditional Maori culture should be to interest tourists) has been appropriated to be a tourism commodity. Sources for this one are a little more promising, with one definite article and two others possibly coming from the course packs of two other classes (I love overlap).

Now, what do apples have to do with geography research assignments? Actually, you'd be surprised. But I'll spare you those details, and instead say this: spot the metaphor. It's a pretty basic game, I hope you can do it!

apple photo by me

My True Colours

EDIT: You can take a more in-depth version of the True Colours test here, for free.

Ever done a personality test? I've had the "joy" of doing three or four different ones throughout my academic and working career, and they usually take a while. They're also usually spooky accurate.

The most recent one I did is called the True Colors test. For the sake of my Canadian-ness I'll be calling it True Colours.

What True Colours told me is that I am a green foremost, with orange and gold in the middle and absolutely no blue. I imagine that my father (I know you're reading this) is a green as well, possibly an orange, maybe a gold. But not a blue. My mother is probably a blue. Knowing people's colour allows you to gauge how they wish to be interacted with, particularly what sort of guidance or feedback they need.

So enough about what it is, here's the short version of the test:

To do this test, rank the groups of words in each row (that's horizontal, folks) from 1 to 4, with higher numbers indicating that you identify with those words or feel that they are important. At the end, add up your numbers to figure out your score for each colour. Usually, one colour will come out significantly higher than the rest, but not always! One of my friends ended up with a score of 16 in three of the four colours.

For reference, here's what mine looks like:

See how overwhelmingly green I am?

As a note of interest, I completed this test with a group of co-workers, about 26 of us total. Those of us who had a high green streak completed the test more quickly, in general, than those with a blue streak. Why? 'Cause the blue individuals were busy thinking about each word while the greens mostly reacted to them.

Now, the colours get broken down like into different personality types; saying that you're green doesn't really mean anything unless you know the significance of the category. In short, orange is spontaneous and adventuresome, said to live in the present. Gold is regimented and orderly, often scheduling far into the future. Those who are blue are driven by emotions and feelings, they like to talk things out and come to ideal solutions. Finally, green is rational and accurate, valuing knowledge and competency.

Get it?

So the next time you're speaking with someone, remember what your standpoint is: a blue will use different language than a green will. It's theoretical stuff, but helpful. I would know, I'm a green.

New (School) Year

Y'know that inane practise where people pretend to commit to things at the beginning of each new year? The whole "new year, new you" kind of mentality. Well, pointless as it may be, I'm going to try for a head start this year, start with my new school year rather than the new cardinal year. What's so special about January 1st anyways?

So my list, starting this October, reads as follows:

• send more postcards
• run, twice a week
• buy whole wheat or whole grain more
• branch out from "the staples"
• eat in with friends more often
• write something at least every other day, notes not included
• get to know people's names better
• eat less, more often
• compliment people more often

Now, why the snail? Because snails have determination. They don't go fast, but they know that. They also know that they'll arrive at their destination sometime, at their own pace. And because they are taking their time getting to that finale, they have plenty of time to think about what that finish really means to them. They can change it, modify, decide that they really don't want to end up there. So that's why I've got a picture of a snail.
So, with the inspiration of the snail in mind, is there anything you might want to accomplish next month?

snail photo by me

on Ankles and Consequences

I don't know where to start. In fact, I rarely know where to start in the majority of my endeavours. Stories, projects, task lists... I may know where the start is, but how do I start it?

Usually it's just a matter of sublime inspiration.

While procrastinating the start of this blog, I went to update my Blogger profile. I filled out the typical fields, stating my name and occupation and biography. But then, at the end, I came across a most unusual question:

"How is an ankle unlike a consequence?"

I found this seemingly random comparison delightful, and hasted to answer the question in an equally quirky fashion. But as I started to mull my answers, I became more and more critical of the question. Eventually, I answered by writing this:

One cannot leave their ankles behind as they walk away.

How enlightened of me, no? And then I started thinking again. Can I actually walk away from my consequences? Is that not a negative image, promoting irresponsibility? Maybe.

I'm happy to walk off with both ankles and my consequences behind me. Who's to say I haven't met those consequences already, and am now venturing past them? This is becoming much too philosophical for my tastes.

So I open up the question to you: How is an ankle unlike a consequence?