Deconstructing Gwen

Gwen Hughes is an angelic Diva that I am honored to call my friend. While I am merely internationally ignored, she is internationally renown for her performances and songwriting. Yeah, she's that good! If you want to hear for yourself, why not take a moment to check out her Electronic Press Kit?

She's humored my pesterings of musical questions and nurtured my ambition to produce a new, modern-Euro sound for her music in the past, but now she's gone one further... actually collaborating with me on two new songs of hers!

Now Gwen and I are two very different musicians (if I can even call myself that). We often talk at great lengths about how different our worlds are. True, I have modest keyboarding and music-producing abilities, but this woman sings and plays piano for a living... a real professional.

So I eagerly accept the opportunity to "re-produce" or "re-mix" one or two of her songs... but can I do it???

Well, I found it quite amusing that path I had to walk to be able to absorb her music, and so I created this post... let it bear witness to the genius that is Gwen.

Input

Two mp3s arrive in my mailbox. I eagerly listen to them. On first glance, they seem like complete songs... drums/bass/keys/vocals (all done by her). I play along with them, figuring out the chords (more or less) as the songs play and I think, "yeah, I can do this."

Now I should spend a moment discussing the ways one can go about re-mastering a song. The first method, identical to the way a DJ would re-mix a song off the radio, is to use the song itself as the building blocks to create a different song. The entails sampling the song into lots of little bits, which itself might require some audio processing.

For example, let's say I want to use a bit of the song as a base for a new song, but the part I want to use has vocals on it that I don't want. Well, you can consider a song to be like a layer cake: at the bottom layer (the lower frequencies) is the bass, and other instruments are found occupying higher layers. (Drums, especially hi-hits and snares, comprise the highest frequencies.) By using audio processing techniques, I can "cut out" instruments (even voice) from the original recording!

But, due to the fact that sound "leaks" between the layers (as harmonics) the end result isn't as nice as if I had started with clean recordings of each individual instrument.

Add to the fact that I'm serious... I want to create a 24-bit, 44.8KHz recording... and that I'm starting with a .mp3 (which is already lossy) and you'll soon see that any end result I do would have to again be redone with higher-quality source material.

It's not like me to do something 1/2-way.

The second approach, also widely used, is simply to re-create the song first, using local instruments, so that one can start with high-quality recordings. A bonus of this approach is that if done properly, one gets more than just a recording... one gets a capture of the creation process that can be edited (say, changing a note, or a trumpet to a sax)!

I knew before Gwen ever sent me anything that I would want to use the latter approach. Why? Because I'm a musician... I feel like I have a larger expression with MIDI data than I do with MP3 data. Besides, if I'm going to help write a song, I think it's reasonable to assume that I could play the song.

The Devil's in the Details

But with Gwen... that turned out to be a much larger problem! See, Gwen is a professional jazz musician... her stuff is a bit more complex than the usual drivel that I was used to on the radio. (Even the "sophisticated" stuff I listened to is pretty simple by comparison to jazz.)

While I could play along with her songs, I was a LONG way from being able to reproduce what she sent. I could add to it, but not create from scratch. No matter how hard I tried to hear what was going on, it was stuff I had never heard or seen before and I was stymied.

I knew however, that if I just watched her play the song once, I would be able to reproduce it. God has blessed me with that skill. So, frustrated, I called her and asked for the chord charts. This would at least verify that my chord guesses were correct.

Well, after busting my chops (rightly so) for not putting more time into learning the song, she sent me the charts. (Thanks!) I now owned a few pages of symbols that, when presented to a musician might actually "sound" like a song- but in my hands, were just stark reminders of how much I was not a jazz musician. Armed with a map to the song, I began my quest.

Creating Audio Samples

The first step was to take her mp3 and break it down structurally in a way that it would be represented on a chord chart. To do this, I loaded the song into CoolEdit and meticulously set markers corresponding to the start of key measures in the song.

The next step was to get my recording studio setup. For this part of the song, I needed a mixer, drum machine, and samplers for the bass, piano, and strings. That was the easy part, harder is programming the instruments!

I started with drums. The song only has a basic 16-beat drum pattern looped, so I figured that would be a good place to start. Using the samples I just created, I figured out the beats per minute (113) and set up my recorder to loop over the first 16 beats while simultaneously playing the first 16 beats of her song. I listened to that drum pattern over and over on a loop until I could anticipate each beat. Once I could play the drum pattern, I programmed the drum machine and took a deep breath in preparation of doing the same thing with the bass and piano.

Normally, I can pretty much play along with a song on first hearing, but *replicating* a song is completely different. "Anal-retentive" attention to detail comes to mind. I won't say how many times I had to listen to just the first bar of the bass+piano, but a few hours later, I had something close!

However, this was just "replicating" ... this wasn't "playing." With heavy rhythmic devices like drums and bass, this is okay, maybe even preferred, but with other instruments, the result sounds ... mechanical. So, I quantized the bass (forced the notes to align on specific beats) and armed with the chordal structure as well as a close approximation of exactly what notes were being played, I put the the drums and bass on a loop and tried to "feel" the song. In other words, I had to "figure out" the unconscious little motions that Gwen used to make her music. (This is why it's easier to do if you can actually watch someone do it!)

Now, I won't say I replicated exactly her fingers, but it's really close. If anything, I have a tendency to "hear" more than what is actually there, so my recording might be a bit "heavy-handed" compared to her delicate fingerings. That's okay; now that I have the notes in MIDI format, I can delete (or edit) them later if needed.

And so, after a total of around 8 hours of work, I've replicated about 25 seconds of the song!

Recall that the point of doing all of this isn't to replicate the song, but to START from that point. So, I'm looking at more hours of tedious work before I can actually start to be creative and start contributing to the song.

Well... no one said it would be easy! Of course, I'm sure for some people, it is!

If you're curious... here's Gwen's original recording and then my version. The instruments might sound different (easily changed) and the volumes might be different (easily changed) but the notes and rhythms should be there. And, even if they are a little off, I can change them too without having to re-record. I love making music ... well, I will when I actually get to make it! :)

A Jung Woman...

I recently had a conversation with a close friend about Jungian archetypes. It went something like this:

Him: Have you considered which of the 13 archetypes you are?
Me: Uh... I guess I would have to learn more about them first.

So, we chatted, and after he left, I refreshed my college Jungian psychology. Here's a Wikipedia link as good as any other I found: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archetypal. No doubt you'll recognize aspects of yourself in these 13 archetypes!

What I found particularly interesting (and just plain news to me) were the Anima and Animus archetypes. Now, prior to discovering them, I would have primarily identified with the "Wise" part of "Wise old man." That is... I seem to be able to do things with knowledge that others can't... perhaps even change reality... yet I never identified with the "old" and certainly not the "man" part. And I've since met people who seem to innately know more "useful" things (i.e., wisdom gained from life experiences) while I seem to have more skilled learning suited more to abstract problems and machines rather than human behaviors. Question to self: should I try to adapt that ability to learn skills to the realm of human behavior?

Shrug. Back to roles... I never played Role Playing Games (RPGs) before, so I'm not really sure which archetype I'd be. My only two guesses would have come from times where I would have identified with the Merlin role, or the Warrior Princess role. Aye-yia-yia-yia-yia!

Then along comes Anima. Okay, I certainly seem to be embodying the totality of what little I know about Anima - the feminine inner personality, as present in the unconscious of the male. My Anima has a name, I am she, and she is me, and we are Clio.

And then I find this page on Jung's Anima Theory and how It Relates to Crossdressing. Note: I am not a crossdresser, although empirically, I crossdress. The author, a (former) crossdresser merges traditional transgendered case study results with Jung's theories in a plausible and constructive style.

So it seems I have come home to open up (and heal) old psychological wounds prohibiting me from realizing my full potential. This much is obvious by fate, and I have accepted and learned from it. Now what?

Well, I am happier as a woman, yet I am not a woman. I am miserable as a man, yet I made a good one. As I will never be biologically female again (we all were once women in the womb) I have to come to terms with being somewhere in the middle... but where?

If you've ever lived (as opposed to visited) in a foreign culture, you are familiar with culture shock - that uneasy feeling that comes from being immersed in a different culture. It's like jet-lag, but for culture instead of time. It occurs each time one switches culture, just like jet-lag when switching time zones.

Well, gender dysphoria is like that too... I used to think I could get by living as the duality:

In number 69 there lives a transvestite,
He's a man by day, but she's a woman at night.
- Space, "My Neighborhood"

but the "gender-lag" from switching is ... uncomfortable. Further, it just feels 'weird' to be the male that my body is. It feels right to be the woman that is the embodiment of my Anima, and I prefer to be her... this much is certain... but who knew she was a, pardon my French, a chick-with-a-dick?

So what does integration bring? I don't know what one does yet with this knowledge, so for now, I'll just take comfort in knowing that I am what I am.

4 Dimensions of Gender

Wow, it has been a while. I've gone and missed my own anniversary! Maybe my friends will cut me some slack next time I'm a day late with the birthday card? LOL. Probably not! :)

If you've read with me for this long, I think it's finally time to post the first half of my thesis on gender. Sounds boring... isn't. Guaranteed to open your mind or your money back!

The pitch:

Most people see the people in the world as "gay" or "straight," based on what's between their legs and who's legs they like to get in between. This is overly simplistic and is a cause for much misunderstanding. In reality, there are (at least) four dimensions that make up a person's "gender" and this essay aims to unambiguously identify them and create a gender map based on these divisions.

http://prettygetter.tv/blog/4DoG.pdf


Hope you enjoy, please let me know your thoughts!

I've dated a ...

A funny little list I made while bored on a recent plane trip... it's part of a much larger list that, when presented here, could only look like the work of a self-obsessed megalomaniac. In reality, it was part of a deep, introspective quest, and I was just reminiscing over fond times with those I've loved.

I've Dated A ...

• By Career
• Beautician
• Chef
• Gypsie
• Dancer
• Psychologist
• Single Mom
• Writer/Editor
• Stripper
• Professor
• Musician/Singer
• Equestrian
• Girl Next Door
• Boy Next Door
  
• By Faith
• Christian
• Catholic
• Atheist
• Jew
• Pagan
• Muslim
• By Nationality
• American
• Korean
• Chinese
  
• British
• Italian
• Turkish

But to quote Bono... I still haven't found what I'm looking for (or what's looking for me), so, if your country/religion/profession isn't listed, feel free to ask me out... Sushi is an excellent first date! :) )

Biofuel Bandaids for Gunshot Wounds

Many of my friends think that I am against bio-fuels because I never say anything positive about them. Typically, when some unsuspecting soul tells me how great it is that Indiana is getting a resurgence from Bush's bio-fuel push, I start down the path of the Earth and Us being a closed environment, just like goldfish in a bowl, with limited Earth resources, and here I'm talking about the nutrients found in our soil that grows plants that feeds Us and everything we eat (except of course, sea-food, but don't get me started on what we're doing to the marine ecology).

I then wonder out loud if it could be considered, morally speaking, a good idea to grow corn for machines when we have two billion people on this planet starving.

Never mind that, I then wonder out loud if it could be considered, logically speaking, a good idea to grow corn for anything other than living creatures. Shrug. Just don't make sense to me.

Now, don't get me wrong, I think it's great that we might be able to process food-waste as fuel for machines and I think it's great that bio-engines emit less pollution, blah-blah-blah. I don't disagree with any of the positive aspects of bio-industry!

My issue with bio-fuels is that they are not addressing the problem. The problem is not that we need an alternative fuel source, but rather that we are over-consuming. We are treating the symptoms while ignoring the disease! To me then, the use of bio-fuels is a bandage to terminal wound, and one that makes the cut deeper at the same time.

We are over-consuming and we are wasting energy at a shameful rate; but we need not be ignorant... it is by first being conscious of the fact that we need to reduce that we can finally start to reduce! (Talk the talk, walk the walk!)

It's not so hard... the easiest way to reduce is simply not to waste in the first place.

Waste not, want not...

Wicked Little Town

Most people have never heard of the movie, "Hedwig and the Angry Inch." This is unfortunate for many reasons. First, it's a great movie, evolving from a ground-breaking NY play. Second, it touches on (in a positive and uplifting (but not cheesy) way) some very complex themes that are of significance to those outside the transgender community. Finally, the soundtrack was written by one of the best songwriter/composers since Cole Porter- Stephen Trask. The man is pure genius.

On of the songs, Wicked Little Town, is really two different versions of the same song. The first part is sung by Hedwig, and is a soothing poem to her masculine half, here represented by the androgynous Tommy Gnosis, and the second part is a response from Tommy to the feminine side represented by Hedwig.

As I said, the movie has complex themes... the soundtrack is more so. (And I haven't yet talked about the song written based on Plato's Dialogs!)

Anyway, this song faithfully represents to me both halves of myself struggling to make sense of it all, and of my experiences in Muncie (and around the world).

First, Hedwig's version to the young boy she loves who is in the same situation she was in when she was a young boy, and, the situation I find myself in now.

You know, the sun is in your eyes
And hurricanes and rains
And black and cloudy skies

You're running up and down that hill
You turn it on and off at will
There's nothing here to thrill or bring you down
And if you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town

Oh Lady Luck has lead you here
And they're so twisted up
They'll twist you up, I fear

The pious, hateful, and devout
You're turning tricks 'til you're turned out
The wind so cold it burns
You're burning out and blowing 'round
And if you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town

The fates are vicious and they're cruel
You learn too late you've used
Two wishes
Like a fool

And then you're someone you are not
And Junction City ain't the spot
Remember Mrs. Lot and when she turned around
And if you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town

And then we have Tommy's reply, also a painful realization of my present condition:

Forgive me,
For I did not know.
'Cause I was just a boy
And you were so much more

Than any god could ever plan,
More than a woman or a man.
And now I understand how much I took from you:
That, when everything starts breaking down,
You take the pieces off the ground
And show this wicked town
something beautiful and new.

You think that Luck
Has left you there.
But maybe there's nothing
up in the sky but air.

And there's no mystical design,
No cosmic lover preassigned.
There's nothing you can find
that can not be found.
'Cause with all the changes
you've been through
It seems the stranger's always you.
Alone again in some new
Wicked little town.

So when you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town.
Oh it's a wicked, little town.
Goodbye, wicked little town.

Musically, the song is not like anything on the radio. Check out the chord progression on the chorus: G7/D, C, Cm, G, G7, C, Cm, G. The Beatles used to experiment with chord progressions going from major to minor of the same chord, but you just don't hear that kind of stuff anymore. Throw in some arpeggiated bass lines with right hand quarters and you've got an idea.

I'm trying to sing and play this song but am having difficulties because of the interplay of rhythmic patterns throughout the voice and right and left hands. Let alone the fact that I don't know how to sing with any known technique! But I'm trying. The song is so beautiful and the effect is so strong when I've only just barely played it, I can't wait until it's second nature and I can simply emote the song instead of actually trying to play it.

By the way, if you watch the movie, don't confuse how a transsexual looks in everyday life versus how she looks on stage... it is after all, a movie about an eastern European punk-rock band! We don't always wear metallic eye-makeup with sculpted blush! (Well, okay, we do, but there are the in-between moments when we are washing it off!) :)

Earl Gets His Freak On

From the latest episode of "My Name Is Earl." Despite often laughing at people, this show does a pretty good job of showing people a better way to live. Personally, I was impressed at how the bearded lady came to accept who she was, but more than that, how she was compassionate to Earl not understanding what it was like to be treated as a freak.

To quote, "If we leave here, people gawk at us... I don't expect you to understand... You don't know what it's like to have strangers pointing and laughing at you because of the way you look..."

Hmm... did I say that earlier or am I confusing a previous post with this week's episode? Surreal is the word for 2007, pass it on.

The natural reaction to most people treating you like a freak, once you come to terms with the fact that you aren't (anymore than anyone else, usually less so) is to want to tell the world to go procreate with itself, but that doesn't get one very far, and, if you're a tranny, it's likely to get you killed.

So how does one cope? Hiding? Well, if you can master your immediate environment, that can be a very attractive option, but ultimately, one that is infeasible. Ignoring? You can't. Putting on a show? I've seen many 'freaks' do this to great effect, but I've become too shy for now to make that happen.

You know the funny thing? Given the chance, I wouldn't change who I am. By living with respect and accountability, I live with no regrets, and I would not sacrifice the being I am today for something different... I would however take a crowbar to a few billion heads on this planet and use it to open up their minds.

The real question is ... how to do that?

Snow Job Blows!

It's always a bummer to be expecting 12 inches and only get 6.

Although getting 6" three times ain't bad.

Stay warm!

SuperTranny!

I actually remember reading this as a child and thinking, "wow, that would be SO cool!"

Boys Will Be Girls

I had a crazy day; even by my standards!

I decided to go to the mall via MITS, the local bus. It's bitterly cold, but the central hub is a block away and the bus goes straight to the mall front doors. It's a weekend, so I know that the bus will be filled with the youth of Muncie. I hesitate, but am resigned to my journey. I manage to buy my ticket ($1) and take the last open seat on the bus (it seems everyone wanted to go to the mall too!)

At the mall, I pick up a total steal: a full-length ultra-soft terry cloth robe for $15, retail $100. Score. And, I made a new friend today at Victoria's Secret. (I can't help it! Beautiful VS store managers are just naturally drawn to me. ;;)

So, I'm feeling pretty good, looking pretty, got a great deal and begin my hunt for a Colt's jersey. You can't host a Superbowl party and not sport the home team attire. Of course, Muncie doesn't have pink & white jerseys, just the blue and white ones. (I'm not completely unreasonable in my expectations) Nay, they are even out of most of the blue ones too.. just the white ones left. And expensive! Oh my!

So I've got my jersey and I'm off to the other wing to Old Navy where I figure I can get a cheap blue turtleneck. On the way, this little kid and his friends just go nuts when they see me. You'd have thought I had six heads and was breathing fire the way this kid kept circling me, pointing, saying, "that's a dude!" He follows me for a bit until I turn around and smile at him and say, "nice grill," referring to the chunk of metal in the kid's mouth. At this, he runs away screaming.

I am not making this up. Can you make little kids run away simply by saying hello, or is this a talent just for me?

On my way back from Old Navy, I run into the kid again (it's a small mall, just an L-shape). He continues this act and keeps backing away from me as I walk toward him. Unfortunately, instead of just going around, he keeps retreating to where I'm heading, and the more he retreats the louder he gets and the more he points.

Finally, the kid runs out of choices and backs himself into the same small exit wing as where I'm going and runs outside. I chose to stay warm and sat on the bench inside where I met a lovely lady who was stood up by her friends, she thinks because it was too cold. (She reminded me of my great-grandmother). I should have offered to buy her lunch, in retrospect, not just cause then I wouldn't have had to ride the bus with that kid, but eating alone didn't seem to bother her, and, before it dawned on me to ask such a thing, she gave up on her friends, stood up, and went off to eat at MCL.

As I listen to the kid and his friends jeer on the ride home, I reminisce about Talia, a transsexual I knew from the islands of Tennerife. To me, she was a typical transsexual in appearance, and by that I mean beautiful and totally passable as a woman; you'd never know her secret unless she showed it to you. However, the one segment of society she couldn't pass at as a genetic woman was with pre-teen kids. Her pet peeve was that they could always read her. How much fun she would have had today!

So I laughed and thought about Talia and the good times in London.

Shakespear in rejection

I've got the cable on the wall for no reason other than I figured since I'm paying for it, I might as well see what's out there. One afternoon at 4:20, while I'm reflecting on the fact that I just lost a boy for cross-dressing, the wall shows me images of a girl winning a boy while cross-dressing.

So... I guess it's a wash?

Sigh, no. It's so depressing to find out someone you thought was a good person, someone you thought was a cool... someone you called a friend turns out to be just another bigot.

A bigot is a prejudiced person who is intolerant of opinions, lifestyles, or identities differing from his or her own.

Harsh words from me? After being ignored for weeks, check out this IM I received from a friend:

It's not that I dont want to hear from you. It's that I don't know how to relate to people that wear women's clothing. I don't understand it , I don't like it, It's is crazy to me, and I kind of wish you had never let me see that part of you. we could have been friends without having to know this. I'm sorry, but I don't want to hangout with a thirty year old man who thinks he's a fourteen year old girl.

Ouch! With friends like that, who needs enemies? How shall I deconstruct thee, let me count the ways...

• It's not that I dont want to hear from you. Um, I'm sorry but with phrases like "I don't like it," "I wish you had never let me see that part of you," and "I don't want to hangout..." it sounds like you exactly don't want to hear from me. Please forgive me for acting accordingly.
  
• I don't know hot to relate to people that wear women's clothing. Approximately half of all humans wear women's clothing, but don't worry, relating to them is easy. Just be nice to them, take a shower, wash your clothes, maybe buy them dinner, and you might see more of them.
• I don't understand, I don't like it, It's crazy to me. Honey, you won't understand 1/50th of the knowledge contained in my brain or my experiences. You calling me crazy is like a pebble calling a mountain small; it ain't true empirically or relatively, it's just naive. Crazier is to harbor intolerance with a closed mind. You don't understand? ASK! You don't like? Find what it is within you that is causing such a reaction, and ask yourself, "Am I free to judge?"
  
• I kind of wish you had never let me see that part of you. Then you never would have met me...
  
• We could have been friends without having to know this. Not really, my friends like me for me, and not because I'm what they want me to be. But I would have still been nice to you.
  
• I'm sorry, but I don't want to hangout with a thirty year old man who thinks he's a fourteen year old girl. Ouch. That's rich coming from a man who lives at home with his parents. I'm sorry you turned out to be a bigot.

Alright, where's the Hagen-daz?

The Filles!

OMG! How could I not have known such a thing existed!

There I was, image-fishing on the web for a tri yin-yang (like this), when I came across a page that also had this movie poster... I was immediately attracted to it. It looked like it could be a musical! Gasp! A Gene Kelley movie I haven't seen? Whee! And Cole Porter wrote the music? Squeal! He's my favorite composer (he lived in Indiana too). And Mitzi Gaynor too! Not to mention it's a Sol Siegel production of an MGM film... what's not to love?

Unless you're like ... straight. I wouldn't know what straight people do for fun.

My First 9/11...

Today is the anniversary of the Challenger space shuttle disaster. I consider this to be my generation's first '9/11' experience, that is, our first collective memory of an event unfolding live on world-wide TV.

I wasn't alive when the Beatles played on Ed Sullivan, and I wasn't alive when John Kennedy was shot, but I hear that if you were alive during those events, you remember exactly what you were doing while they happened (in contrast to say, knowing what you did the day or week before/after.)

But I was alive when faulty O-rings caused Challenger to explode itself into millions of pieces, killing instantly the shuttle crew of seven. One of them was to be the first school teacher in space. I am sure their loss is still felt today and my heart goes out to their families.

Back at home, at Wilson Middle School, 7th grade, we had canceled classes in order to watch the launch. CNN was not around yet, but this kind of event got full media coverage by all three (3!) networks, so we could watch it over the airwaves at school.

Believe it or not, we even had a competition science fair where one lucky winner got to go down to Florida and watch the launch live! I'm not sure, but I think Muncie was selected for this special honor because of Ball Corp. and their role in manufacturing the heat-shield tiles used for shuttle re-entry.

1/29/2006: Update from my friend...

I actually got 8th place the first 7 got to go to Florida... I was the first alternate.... So I got to participate in everything except the actual trip.

It was called the Ball Corp Space Challenge Program...the plan(back those Naive days) was that the prize in future editions of the contest would be an actual flight into space onboard the shuttle.

All of that changed after it blew up... in fact they cancelled the whole program. However... I love the Blues Brothers picture... it is extraordinarily cool

For some reason, I didn't participate in this event, and I don't remember what I did instead, but I do remember my what my friend (then arch-nemesis) did... he wrote a computer program (in 5th grade) which taught maths skills... more or less. You see, a problem was shown on the screen, say 5+7, along with a launching shuttle, and if you got the right answer to the problem before time ran out, the shuttle launched... but if you got the answer wrong... well, I think this is where we go into the vagueness of 7th grade humor and invincibility, mixed in with a colossal cosmic dash of irony. If you got the answer wrong, the shuttle blew up shortly after it launched.

Unsurprisingly, in retrospect, he didn't win and a project of lesser skill and talent (although perhaps a bit more taste) won. In the end, the selected students didn't get to see the lift-off... they went down to Florida, but the launch was delayed several times and they had to come home before.

You mind the coincidences. While I can't say these were auspicious signs, the events made me take notice in a whole new way that kid who wrote that program. He's still in my life, and in many respects, we're still those same kids we were at Wilson middle school...

Later that year, we became friends and performed a skit featuring the Blues Brothers. It was a smash hit and cemented our friendship.


And that's how an 11-year old goes from the biggest national tragedy in their life to their biggest friend.

Stephen Trask Is A Musical Genius

Great lyrics, great music!

On Love:

But I could swear by your expression that the pain down in your soul was the same as the one down in mine. That's the pain, cuts a straight line down through the heart; we called it love. (Origin of Love)

On being a post-op transsexual:

When I woke up from the operation I was bleeding down there. I was bleeding from the gash between my legs. My first day as a woman, and already it’s that time of the month! (Angry Inch)

On perseverance:

Forgive me, for I did not know. 'Cause I was just a boy and you were so much more than any god could ever plan, more than a woman or a man, and now, I understand how much I took from you. That, when everything starts breaking down, you take the pieces off the ground and show this wicked town something beautiful and new. (Wicked Little Town)

On being transsexual:

I look back on where I'm from, look at the woman I've become, and the strangest things seem suddenly routine. (Wig in a Box)

On healing:

Breath. Feel. Love. Give. Free. Know in you soul, like your blood knows the way from you heart to your brain, know that you're whole. (Midnight Radio)

On moving from London to Muncie:

'Cause with all the changes you've been through, it seems the stranger's always you. Alone again in some new wicked little town. (Wicked Little Town)

Two Songs, One Eye, and No One (to talk to)

Chorus of the minute:

Je ne veux pas travailler
Je ne veux pas déjeuner
Je veux seulement l'oublier
Et puis je fume
-- Sympathique, Pink Martini

Roughly translated:

I do not want to work.
I do not want to have lunch.
I only want to forget.
And so I smoke.

This sums up almost exactly my feelings regarding my social life. You're probably thinking I'm a stoner or something, but the past few weeks have been rough socially and work-wise. I say, almost exactly, because I can smoke... what I want more is to smoke with someone.

But, alas, since I came out in 2007, those opportunities have withdrawn. I think I now make people too uncomfortable- get this- by just being me. Whereas before, people treated me as a freak they didn't understand, now people just seem to treat me as a freak they don't want to understand. Can you believe it? Someone as innately loveable as lil 'ol me?

Now don't get me wrong, I didn't expect to find support, coming out in MidWest America. In fact, I expected lots of hatred. The good news is that people seem to be genuinely unconcerned with Trans-folk, so long as they are beyond arms' length. What I didn't expect is this perceived alienation from friends and family.

I say perceived cause it could just be me. It *could* be... however, I can count the total number of phone calls I've received in the new year on one finger, and that ain't normal. So perhaps everyone just is super busy now. I'm sure no one is freaked out at all because everyone I know is so attentive to details, and I've only been slowly coming out now, for what, a year?

Whatever... so that's got this girl down, but we get through. We always do.

I now proudly wear my label of 'freak!'

We are freaks we are butch we are fem
We are freaks look at him look at them.
-- Freaks, Stephen Trask

Speaking of, check out this adorable little kitty! OMG, can you believe it? Unfortunately, 'Cy' only lived for a few days, poor thing... but she did live!

... and so do the rest of the 'freaks' like me. Even if the phone forgets to ring.

The Strangest Things Seem Suddenly Routine

It's surreal how moving to Muncie from London has dramatically changed my social network.

I mean, while in London, I regularly had occasion to hang out with some pretty extraordinary world citizens: heads of states, astronauts, performers, and some of the most brilliant minds and scientists of our day. This was my company. This was where I felt I belonged.

In Muncie, I get to have a cuppa joe with Wee Man.

In London, I watched David Soul give two amazing performances in "Jerry Springer, the Opera." In Muncie, I watched Eric Estrada arrest an 80-year old woman selling crack. I feel like I should go watch C.H.I.P.S. or something.

So... from mighty-men to moon-men to mini-men... "My life is such a freak show," said the half-man. Or was that half-woman? Or just half... woah, man!

Steve Jobs is Laughing at YOU!

From BBC, "Apple's 'magical' iPhone unveiled"
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/technology/6246063.stm

Steve Jobs is selling hot air, and everyone is buying it as fast as they can. Apple creates/innovates/steals technology, makes it so that it can only be used in their Draconian fashion, colors it pretty, doubles the price, and then hypes it in a way that makes people want to buy it. And they do.

iPod. Give me a break, 20Gb mp3/video players were available for four years before Apple brought out the iPod. They were better then than what Apple offers now; however, Creative Labs and Archos were not the manipulators of public passion that Jobs is (credit where credit is due). He managed to convince people that what they really wanted (4 years ago) was a bigger, heavier device that could hold less songs smothered with Digital Rights Management (we aren't grown up enough to use our music the way we want to). Oh yeah, and it had to be White, cause, it like worked for the Beatles and all. And did I mention it connects easily to a pay-as-you-go service so that they can start making money off of artists and musicians as well?

C'est la vie. I remained smug, content in my knowledge that *I* wasn't throwing away my money on sub-par technology marketed to those who have more money than technological common sense.

I should say that I became smug rather than remaining such, but only after repeated failed attempts to enlighten others.

Case in point, I'm in the Apple Store in San Jose (after just spending the afternoon lunch in the lion's den - Apple HQ in Cupertino). I'm looking at a nice-looking (of course) sound system for the iPod. Plug and thump bass with two speakers. The issue? I'm looking all over for the technical specifications of this device.

I'm curious to see the frequency response for such a large subwoofer (how low can you go?), and curiouser still to see if there was any digital 'magic' (ie, filter processing) in the mix, since most media played on an iPod is roughly of radio quality.

I looked everywhere on the package to no avail. I then notice there aren't specs on any other audio devices they have. I finally get a poor guy to help me, but he can't find the information on their website. After we open up a package to find the answer (a paltry 60hz) the manager admits that most Apple consumers don't care about the technical specifications.

Hello? I'm sorry, but - work with me on this - it seems that if ever there was a time to care about 'the technical specs,' it would be when shopping for or buying technology!

Back to the article. Technology is not, capital EN, capital OH, capital TEE, in any sense of the word, MAGIC, yet this is precisely what Jobs wants us to believe given his incessant use of the word to describe his, ho-hum, overpriced telephone that can play mp3s and video.

It ain't magic; it's two-year old technology. If one were so inclined to have such a device years ago, one could, if one knew where to look.

So why does he call it magic? To make you think it's cool, duh. To make you think it's someone more advanced than you or modern technology. It ain't.

But let me be fair and address the 'magic' in question. The magic is in the way the software handles the new technology they are pushing... touch-sensitive displays. You know, the kind that have been on PDAs for over a decade? Only, these displays have a bit of a problem... they are susceptible to mistaken touches! You can "push a button" from merely holding the device!

So the technology is basically a faulty (by design) touch-sensitive panel. Big whoop. We've had those for years (he flat out lies when he says it's the most accurate one shipped). Jobs thinks so much of the PC-style desktop metaphor, that he thinks he's doing a noble thing by bringing it to touch-sensitive devices. His big innovation? You don't need a stylus... Erm... No. What you've done Steve, is you've worked really hard to mis-apply a metaphor to a phone.

But let's set that aside for now. What really astounds me is his claim that the interface is 'super-smart,' knowing difference when you accidentally press a button and when you intentionally press it.

In other words, the 'magic' is the operating system of the phone selectively either ignoring or processing your input based on whatever algorithms were programmed into it at Cupertino. In other words, the device has the power to veto your input!

I've used products with a similar interface. Hated it. Unless you're flying a Jet at Mach 3(where human reflexes are too slow), I don't see any reason why user input should be so complicated. You see, buttons have what we call 'affordances'. When was the last time you tried to pull a button? Probably never... that's because the button itself gives you clues on how to use it. It affords pushing. Now contrast that with how many times you've pulled a door when you should have pushed (or vice-versa). Some door knobs and handles, such as curved handles, afford pulling, while some, such as a flat plate, afford pushing. Others still are ambiguous, like a simple door knob. Do you know by just looking at it if the door opens or closes? That's affordance. The more you have, in theory, the easier your interface is to use.

But you see, what Jobs has done by putting a button on a flat screen is take a perfectly good button, and remove all of its physical affordances. Oh, he added some pretty graphics to the device, but um... your thumb is blind and relies on touch.

But Jobs wants pretty, and... wow, it sure is pretty... I want one!

But now we have to deal with the MANY limitations of the desktop metaphor (clicking on icons) on a touch-screen display. Not the least of which is unintended button presses from simply holding the device, which is why Apple has to make their device 'super-smart' in the first place. LOL

Psst- wanna know what's 'super-smart?' Not building a device that is prone to accidental touches which require unnecessary monitoring of the device to tell if it's being used or not.

Why spend good money on unnecessary technology? Ever?

It's a cell phone-mp3 player, not a health-care system. It doesn't need to be smart. It needs to make phone calls and play music/video. That's all. Any extra technology needed to accomplish these goals is the result of an inferior design. Full stop. But it sure is pretty!

Over a decade ago, when researchers discovered they could program more than computers... they could program environments ... people tried to build 'smart homes.' The idea is that if the home knew more about you and your habits, it could make like easier for you, turning on the lights automatically, regulating the AC/heating based on occupancy, automatically ordering food when stocks were low, etc.

I'll summarize my views then (as a researcher in the field) which are still the same: We don't need smarter light switches, we need smarter light switch designers and smarter light switch operators.

We don't need smart gadgets that try and compensate for poor design. What we need are gadgets that are smartly designed to work seamlessly with the real world (with us in it!)

Any device that limits your use of it or the media designed for it is ... wait for it ... BAD TECHNOLOGY. DON'T BUY IT!

But they won't listen to me... they've probably already bought an iPod mini, nano, and original, and they probably can't wait until July when they can buy at three times the price what we could get 2 1/2 years ago. But hey, this one isn't even white! Oh well, they'll just buy new iUpGrades in black.

I should end this by saying I don't hate macs or people who use them... some of my best friends... wait for it... are Mac users! But sometimes, I have dreams where I hear this guy!

Love for Love's Sake

Great poetry goes well with chocolate... this gem from Elizabeth Barret Browning was printed on the inside wrapper of my most recent chocolate bar!

If thou must love me, let it be for nought

Except for love's sake only. Do not say

I love her for her smile--her look--her way

Of speaking gently,--for a trick of thought

That falls in well with mine, and certes brought

A sense of ease on such a day--

For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may

Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought,

May be unwrought so. Neither love me for

Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheek dry,--

A creature might forget to weep, who bore

Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!

But love me for love's sake, that evermore

Thou may'st love on, through love's eternity.

How to Lose Weight

Look, as a human being, here is what you need, in order: air, sleep, water, food, shelter, clothing, love. Wanna maximize your life? Breathe the freshest air you can. Sleep in a comfortable place. Drink pure water. Eat the best you can (the topic of this post). Make your home (cave) comfortable. Dress first for function, then form. Love freely. I promise... you do these things and everything else in your life will improve!

Eating properly:

• Know and keep to proper portions for your food/meals
  Most people eat way too much. Go visit the sick or elderly in the hospital and note the food portions of their meals. You'll do some good in the process too!
  
  
• Control your urges
  If you're not already eating healthy, just accept the fact that you don't need sweets or desserts but once a day. Get your sugar buzz from nature's natural foods.
  
  
• Know what is good food
  Veggies are good, fruit is good... they don't need butter or salt, learn to enjoy the taste of pure food... once you get used to it, you'll find it's better than processed.
  
  
• Knowledge of BAD food
  You are what you eat! Literally! (You're also what you watch on TV, but that's another post!) Avoid high-fructose corn syrup, chemicals (eat organic), and anything that you don't know what it is. Hint... if it contains stuff that isn't a pure food (like MSG) don't eat it.)
  
  
• Walking (exercise). Walk to work. If you don't live close enough to do this, move or get a new job. (I hear you laughing, I'm 100% serious.) Your body (and the environment) will thank you.
  

How to Be Happy

Remember, it feels good to be alive! If it doesn't, you're doing something wrong! Fix it!

Stress feels bad, yes you can feel PRESSURE!

Tips for coping with a bad day
- already have a clean house (or clean it)
- shower (hopefully you're already groomed)
- scent (purfume, aroma therapy)
- comfort (fabrics, foods, friends)
- properly meditate (organics over synthetics)
- properly medicate (organics over synthetics)
- enjoy (repeat as necessary)

Back home again, in Indiana...

Back home again, in Indiana,
and it seems, that I can see ...

Um... lots of things. I've left California for now (more on that later) and have just arrived to the land of my birth. I was picked up at the airport by my uncle, who offered to take me out to dinner... bonus!

He wanted to go to Cracker Barrel, where they don't practice equal rights and where they put animal bits in the veggies just to piss off the vegetarians. (Seriously, check out the menu; lard (animal fat) in the carrots, bacon in the green beans, chicken stock in the soup & rice, etc., and who knows what they put into cornbread that makes it non-vegetarian.)

I politely declined, and I was able to talk him into Max & Erma's instead (it was the best I could do). How quickly I forget that this is the land of fat people and bad food. For example, I tried to order (from the menu) steamed broccoli, only to be informed that there is no way they can prepare it (or the other steamed veggie menu item) without butter. No way to do it!?!? WTF? I know healthy choices are not chosen here, but they can't steam veggies without drowing them in butter? Good greif, Charlie Brown!

My uncle teased me that there wouldn't hardly be any butter on them, and when they came, he offered up a floret. I chose one tiny piece and I felt like I was drinking melted butter from the tap ala Homer Simpson. Yuck! He could barely taste the butter, but then again, the restaurant put 1/2 a stick on his baked potato, so I guess after that, you wouldn't, would you?

I then looked around and noticed the percentage of obsese (not overweight, obese) folks around me, and I pitied them. Here they are, like my uncle, thinking they are doing the right thing by ordering broiled fish (broiled in butter) and eating veggies, but no... they might as well be eating a Snickers. Sigh.

On the inspiring side, it is wonderfuly warm and humid, such a welcome change from the comfortable, arid California air with it's freshly washed air from the Pacific. It is beautiful here, though not in a Big Sur kind of way, but in a "boy, the corn sure is 7ft tall" kind of way.

Visions from the Pacific

A good friend of mine suggested I take a drive down the Pacific Coast Highway from Monterey to Big Sur before I left California. (And you didn't know I was even out there, eh?) The scenery was so moving, she composed a list of the form "It is so beautiful ..." and in that spirt, I'd like to do the same for my trip, so here goes.

It was so foggy ...

1. Carmel should have been named White Chocolate.
   
2. I felt like I was inside the world's biggest bong hit.
3. I couldn't see myself holding my picture of a polar bear in a snowstorm.
4. If I closed my eyes, I could almost see the ocean.
5. Foggy 'ol London-town seemed like San Jose by comparison.
6. Why are all those dogs barking and where did the come from?
7. Big Sur could have been a her.

Since I'm from the MidWest, where the weather comes from, I wasn't going to let a little fog ruin my trip. Perhaps I was in such a good mood because of the little roadster I was driving. I felt like I was in a car commercial... the faster I went around those mountainside curves, the more the car hugged the road. It was like driving sex. I felt bad for not having bought the mountain dinner beforehand.

So in my post-asphalt glow, I hiked down the side of the mountain and sat and meditated. I focused on the barks of the otters. I became the barks. I contemplated my existence and my future, and found it to be reflected in the fog surrounding me. Then, as the clouds parted and I could for the first time see the oceans and animals below, I went back to the car and took a photo (shown above).

About the photo... the one posted here doesn't do justice to the original one I created. it's 20,000 pixels by 6,000 pixels and for you to experience it as I designed it, you would need to stack 5 monitors on top of each other, and then replicate that 16 times to the right. (!) Cutting-edge technology is like Sesame Street to me... anyone want to fund my artistic endeavors and research? :)

Oh, if you're curious how I could memorize such an innane little list about my experience that has nothing to do with reality... I used a memory palace. The palace I used was London, outside my flat, and here's the image I created which helped me remember the list:

A polar bear smoking from a Roor (brand of bong) outside my flat with a dog barking at it, held by a dude in a dress eating carmel candies with his eyes closed.

Neat, huh?

Introduction to Drugs, Part II

Here are two articles on a recent scientific study on the effects of our friend, psylocybin (the 'magic' in 'Magic Mushrooms').

• Wall Street Journal, Go Ask Alice
• Forbes, M&M Drug Study

(In general, I don't read news sites with advertising, but that's the topic of another post. These links were sent to me by a trusted friend, so I'll just move on...)

Make what you will from the articles, for the claims are true, but I want to address a few things.

#1: "Two-thirds described the effects of the drug, called psilocybin, as among the five most meaningful experiences of their lives."

Yeah, that happens. Ask me though, and getting high in a lab wouldn't be up there... getting high with friends at home, in a club, in the woods, in the city, I.E., doing something... yah, those can be great times! They are only the most meaningful experiences until you actually do the things that you realized while tripping... then those experiences become the most meaningful things. Get it?

#2: "But in 30% of the cases, the drug provoked harrowing experiences dominated by fear and paranoia. Two participants likened the episodes to being in a war."

Yeah, that happens... until the responsible tripper tells them... "Hey... you're just tripping on a bad thought... everything's okay, we're having a great time," and then... they do. Tripping in an unfamiliar, sterile place like a lab is a recipe for a bad trip! I'm surprised only 30% had one!

#3: The method employed... First off, they selected people with no prior hallucinagenic drug experiences, and gave them no training. OMG!

And finally, the sad part, couched in the amazing part:

It was widespread abuse in the 1960s that led to hallucinogens becoming illegal, effectively shutting down then-burgeoning corporate and academic research programs that had suggested the agents might be valuable research and therapeutic tools. One of the last influential studies was the Good Friday Experiment in 1962 in which 20 seminary students were given either psilocybin or nicotinic acid during a religious service. The 10 who got psilocybin reported intense spiritual experiences with positive benefits; one follow-up study suggested those effects lasted 25 years.

Entheogen literally means (from ancient Greek) "that which generates God (or godly inspiration) within a person."

Not all drugs are bad... not all people who use them are evil dealers, and not all uses of them are perverse, some are even holy!

The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades

It's sunny in California!

Plants regulate their activity (blooming, fruiting, etc.) based not on temperature, but instead on the number of hours of light in a day.

So do people!

I'm staying in a house of glass, in California, in the summer.

Did I mention it's sunny out here? It's impossible to block out the sun in this house.

That means my normal routine of going to bed at 7am and waking up at 1pm isn't feasible. Instead (thanks to timezone change) I now go to bed at 4am and am up around 7am.

You'd think that would make a girl sleepy... but apparently not, as I've been doing this for a couple of weeks now!

I love the west coast!

Experience Apple

I just recently applied to Apple for several openings for user interface engineers, usability experts, and software engineers. As you would expect from such a sophisticated computer company, their job application process begins with the web, at http://jobs.apple.com.

The first thing a potential employee needs to do is create an account. Actually, you don't need to create an account to search for jobs, and this is cool. So, I searched through the listings and started to make note of some potential good fits. After a while, I noticed that the site provided a mechanism for storing the details of jobs of interest. Bonus! So, I start adding jobs to my 'job list.'

But this process is time-consuming, and the way they have their system setup is - I kid you not - about the least efficient way of searching for jobs. So alas, my session times out, I have to re-log in, and guess what... my job list is completely erased.

Bastards! So, I create an account. I search for jobs again. I start to get annoyed that I can't press the 'back' button without resubmitting my search critera, and if I do, the server resets my page position back to the top (searching through a list of 509 jobs... keeping the same place is important!)

The alternative is to manually resubmit search critera (instead of having the browser do it) and that just yields the same results, except with more effort.

Interestingly, if I search for jobs in London, I get *MORE* jobs than if I search for the UK. Undeterred, I keep saving potential jobs to my list and begin to create my online resume for Apple (they won't accept PDFs of CVs like every other rational technology company does).

I start to create the resume. I avoid the temptation of the 'cut and paste' option; surely it will look better if I fill in their forms, right? Erm... I get strange errors trying to avoid the timeout issue... double postings of information... most forms handle, but some create problems... like adding schools. Bah!

I keep going and I keep getting timeout messages and finally, it ignores my request and times me out anyway. I lose my saved job list.

$@#@$^*%^$#$@#$^#&*$^%#$@#@%^&*(*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$#

...

I refine my online CV; it keeps treating it like I've created a new one and notifiying apple of the changes. (ick!)

...

You can send applications to multiple jobs in your job list at once; I plan to do in two batches, one for the software engineering job, one for the usability jobs. After doing one, the system deletes the saved jobs that I didn't apply for, so I have to add them AGAIN!!!

...

A friend of mine who works for Apple as a head engineer once proudly told me how all of Apple only has like 20 engineers. They should have spared one for their application system. Apple would be blessed to have someone like me working for them, and GOD AS MY WITNESS, I TRIED, but dammit, Janet!

In the end, I withdrew everything after seeing Apple HQ in Cupertino and having lunch there. Do you remember high school? That's *exactly* what it felt like. I repeat, I have not felt like I have been in high school that much except for the time I was actually in high school. Yeah, funk this, I hated high school, the last thing I want to do is work at a place like that.

Funny, cause I would have thought it would have been more like a college.

Apple? iGlad iNot

Fried Yellow Worms

Fried Yellow Worms

a
haiku
by
PrettyGetter

Why, hello birdie!
Why are you staring at me?
You must be hungry!

Would you like some food?
Would you like a strawberry?
Birds eat berries, right?

Huh? You don't want it?
You are turning down good food?
What is it you want?

Wait; this is Mc'Ds
I bet you want a french fry!
(How sad, if is true!)

Reaching in the sack,
Finding a fried yellow worm,
Tossing to the ground.

Look at birdie eat!
Faster than I imagined,
Fries over berries!

If you feed the birds,
remember, no strawberries,
but fried yellow worms.

Does Not Compute... part II

In an earlier post, I complained about the 'tests' us humans have to go through to prove designers that we are really humans. It seems I was a bit rash...

Hotcaptcha is a mash-up 'are you a human' test which uses photos from HotOrNot to determine if a user on the other end of the net is a human or a person. Here's a sample:

You can vote on just boyz, just girlz, or a mix of both.

It's really kind of a creepy experience... looking at 6 people who statistically rank as 3 or lower and 3 people who rank as 8 or higher. You don't normally see that kind of thing in a club in real life. I mean, you see ugly people all the time, (say, at Wal-Mart, or anywhere in Midwest America) but you don't normally find dispersed among them in a 1-to-3 ratio extremely hot people... and this is a good thing (for most people) because it creates the 'office pretty' effect and the 'sacred cow' phenomenon!

We've all felt the effects of the 'office pretty' person... that individual who is empirically, not that attractive, but when you place hir in a room with even less attractive people, over time, sie becomes more and more attractive. Given enough time in a job, a 5 can become a 9, in other words.

You can also see the 'sacred cow' effect when ordinary girls go to an engineering school dominated by boys. All of a sudden, with the lack of competition, they are magicially tranformed to the state of goddess. Their sense of entitlement is almost cute. I imagine this happens to boys in say, Elementary Education and Nursing courses too, though presumably both take place inside the larger liberal arts system where attractive boys can be found.

But I digress... anyway, to date, this is the most amusing (and at the same time, appalling) !Turing Test I've come across. What's a !Turing Test? Why, it's the opposite of a Turing Test, of course! What's a Turing Test? Put simply, it's a test imagined by Alan Turing in a paper he wrote in 1950 (you can read it here) which has come to be the foundation of the philosophy of artificial intelligence.

Because I'm too lazy to type this fresh, allow me to quote from the book of Wikipedia:

The test was inspired by a party game known as the "Imitation Game", in which a man and a woman go into separate rooms, and guests try to tell them apart by writing a series of questions and reading the typewritten answers sent back. In this game, both the man and the woman aim to convince the guests that they are the woman. Turing proposed a test employing the imitation game as follows: "We now ask the question, 'What will happen when a machine takes the part of A in this game?' Will the interrogator decide wrongly as often when the game is played like this as he does when the game is played between a man and a woman? These questions replace our original, 'Can machines think?'" (Turing 1950) Later in the paper he suggested an "equivalent" alternate formulation involving a judge conversing only with a computer and a man.

Turing originally proposed the test in order to replace the emotionally charged and (for him) meaningless question "Can machines think?" with a more well-defined one. The advantage of the new question, he said, was that it "drew a fairly sharp line between the physical and intellectual capacities of a man." (Turing 1950)

And thus, we see how the history of computing, artificial intelligence, and HotOrNot is linked to boys trying to pass as girls.

Now that we're up to speed, I'd like to suggest that the real question should be can the system of man+machine be considered to think? For this, the judge is your consciousness (pause on that for a moment)... the 'man' is your physical body, and the 'machine' is whatever you are interfacing with on the other side of your computer screen. Will your consciousness decide that the combination of your body plus machine be considered to think?

Once you grok this, you'll probably come to the same conclusion as Alan Turing, that the original quesitons of 'can machines think' is fairly meaningless, and misses the point entirely, kinda like this mashup of HotOrNot.

This Day In Herstory... July 7, 2005

It's been a rough year. Personally, I've met with tremendous growth opportunities (read: pain) and my work has been intense, but very productive.

And so I suppose it's never convenient to get robbed. It just plain sucks. You come home and everything seems normal (because they picked your locks) and the first thing you notice is that your first view into the flat, which is always the same... is somehow different. The room is not like you last left it, which is impossible for someone who lives alone. The you notice your projector is missing. WTF? The mind reels for an explanation and you emotionally attach to the first thing that pops into your head. "Why would my landlord come in here and borrow it without even asking me first? He doesn't even know how to use it!"

Then you notice open drawers in the bedroom and the awful reality begins to sink in... YOU HAVE BEEN ROBBED!

You run to your stash of currencies in five different countries... well hidden, but now... gone. How smart of you to avoid needlessly paying currancy conversion fees by keeping a wad of cash hidden in your bedroom. Yeah, you were ready to fly to any given country on a whim (and you did), but now you're $20K poorer. You've gone from buying gifts for friends 'just because' to not being able to buy groceries in just 3 short hours.

You look around, in shock. What else is gone? Credit cards? A great tinge of panic... no, they left them... they were only looking for things they could sell quickly. My computers!!! My terabytes of data!!! No, they left them... too bulky. The thought of losing so much personal data makes you woosey, you sit on the floor. My jewlery? Gone. Now you realize the memories attached with them are now just that ... memories. Gut-wrentching pangs. Slowly, this turns to anger and action. You rush downstairs to view the CCTV of the shop below you, knowing that the perp would be captured on the screen. After 15 minutes of searching... you've found him. Now you rush out onto the street, frantically searching for that bastard.

Hours later, you come home exhausted, spent, and miserable. But in the end, what's missing? You still have your health, your experience, your friends, you ... it doesn't work. Fact is, your life savings is gone and so is a $4,000 projector, which was also your main source of entertainment, information, and relaxation. Heh, but you can forget about relaxing now. How about getting exponentially more paranoid for every hour you are away from home. How about doing an inventory check everytime you return to your flat? How about going out of your way to hide things you would normally have displayed?

Weeks go by, and then, finally, one day, you find yourself not looking longingly at the blank spaces where your stuff used to live. You find yourself enjoying being out again. You have come to believe that yes, you have passed some cosmic Taoist test about attaching yourself to your material possesions. And then, one ordinary Sunday afternoon, you come home to find your front door in two pieces.

Now add in loads of stress and aggrivation from living and working in a foreign country and being separated from your friends, family, and comforts, put yourself in a competitive publish or perish environment, and throw in, just for fun, a good measure of gender dysphoria. Welcome to my July 5, 2005. It's pretty fuct, I know... and then ... not just two days later...


Bombs in my backyard! I live at the left part of the #4 circle. From my home, I can walk to the bus blast in 4 minutes and the Russell Square blast 6 mins... that should give you an idea of how close I am. What in distance to Americans might just be the width of a mall can cover two small inner London towns here, so while the blasts were physically close to me, they were literally in another city from my eyes… I walk everywhere, my physical world is small.

However, the blasts occurred where many students and locals work and live, right on the fringes of UCL's campus. The bus blast occurred just outside where UCLIC (and my old office) was based.

My first reaction was to phone home and let family know I'm fine. I've never heard my mother in more of a fit of despair, fear, and panic. Somehow, she seemed to know before it happened. Meanwhile, the local reaction was much more of what you'd expect from a people who had World War II on their door step... people in London worked. Most high street stores closed early (because there was not much interest in shopping), but city services were near normal. Kids were not told of the event while at school… at then end of the day, they were told ‘a security event has occurred’ and they left it to the parents to explain what happened. Now that's slick.

For most people, getting OUT of central London was trickier than normal, but not impossible.

I wasn't able to sort my mind before the explosions, but that didn't seem to matter as my mind was focused on the things that really mattered. Since then, I have been helping friends, and also walking around the city, talking to strangers in need, helping them, and taking photos of this beautiful and calm city so you all back home can know I continue to be safe and happy. Many people just need to talk about it, and have someone listen. I guess I'm no different.

I don’t know what the media coverage of this event is like in America… I feel most Americans do not get unbiased news reported to them, even those that think they do.

So 7/7 is going on, the UK's 9/11... I'm walking around the streets of London just hours after the attacks, and what do I see?

As an American living in the REAL world, I am frequently asked to explain people like this to the rest of people also living in the real the world.

The statement he chose to make…

Why he chose to make it…

The time he chose to make it…

Visions from the Dead

Tomorrow

is
the
anniversary
the
July 7,
2005
terrorist
attacks
on
London.

9/11 occured 1,000 miles from where I lived. 7/7 (and the subsequent failed attack two weeks later) occured just a few blocks from where I lived. The iconic bus explosion - as horrific to England as are to Americans the images of planes crashing into the World Trade Center - occured just one block away from my old office.

My home was at the intersection of the two diagonal red 'blast lines' just below the fourth explosion, and just to the left of the second one.

It's hard not to feel affected by this 'anniversary.' And on the eve of this dreadful day... a video showing London Tube bomber Shehzad Tanweer has been aired on al-Jazeera television. (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/5154714.stm)

This is the second time one of the suicide bombers from 7/7 has come back from the dead to leave a message. (The first time was Mohammad Sidique Khan -- http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/4206708.stm)

Each time, the message has been simple, clear, and consise, and each time the message has been misunderstood by the West. Put simply, it has always been "leave us alone and we'll leave you alone." Anyone who has read the Koran knows that they are obligated by Allah to follow this rule (they are basically quoting scripture to us). Even Bin Laden says this in his latest message addressed to the US:

“Your salvation will only come in your withdrawal from our land, in stopping the robbing of our oil and resources, and in stopping your support for the corrupt and corrupting leaders.”

Whatever your stance is, I think those are pretty reasonable requests as a first step toward creating a peaceful coexistence through non-violent, diplomatic means, but I do not wish to enter that debate... especially not with Americans. Whatever the consequences to following these actions are, no other actions will bring peace (short of total destruction) until these basic requests are met; it's right there in the Koran, check it out.

The Bigger Picture

What I do want to discuss is the bigger picture of it all... what hath technology enabled?

Just 150 years ago, if a person from the dead had reappeard to a group of people, can you imagine what the reaction would be? Recall that there was no TV, no radio, no recordings, no photos, almost no media as we know it. There was only one way to see and hear a person who was already dead... so I suspect it would be the similar as to what happened 2,000 years ago - that person would have been elevated to the status of a god, prophet, buddha, or super-natural being. Whether or not the 'vision' would have been interactive is beside the point, any message delivered would have been a message that would have been listened to. Q&A afterward optional.

Now, thanks to technology, with $100 and a nearby Wal-Mart, any mere mortal can do the same. Don't have $100? Well, that's just a week of washing dishes to achieve a form of life after death. Hopefully, your message won't start out, "Hi. If you are watching this, then I am dead and I bet you all are pretty bummed."

You are either awed by this revelation, or numb to it, but such is the progress of technology - and just one example at that!

Of course, society has moved on too. It seems we are no longer impressed with messages from the dead, even those who give their lives for the chance to obtain an audience hear it. What technology giveth, society taketh away.

But not quite... now think about what services like tribe allow... think hard about the nature of consciousness and what one can do with the ability to reach and interact with millions of voices. The tower of Babel has been climbed, for sure, but that is just the tip of the iceberg!

Consciousness has been freed from the temporal and spatial limitations of its host body and is free to join and merge with others. The human is no longer what will survive, but instead, the ideas created by them... especially as ideas form that are not of one single mind, but rather are the result of many. We are merely ants moving memes from one format to another; simply instruments of their creation, evolution, and preservation.

Our bodies, our DNA, our history is just one ginormous external memory system, and taken together with all the other life on this planet, represents the sum total of what has been learned over the billions of years of evolution. Kinda cool, huh?

Now consider that technology, first through verbal language, then books, now with computers and media, is enabling us to accelerate the pace of knowledge by storing it outside of our DNA (the domain of instincts). No longer do ideas survive purely by natural selection. Unnatural selection is upon us!

Our ideas survive, but we cannot.

To quote from 'Jerry Springer, The Opera':
"Hopefully, what will survive of us, is love."

Zen and the Art of ... Gourmet Pretzels?

I recently have taken flight on AirTrain airways. Cheap, simple, low-budget airlines. Of course, if you really want cheap fares, live in London, use RyanAir, and take £0.99 flights! But I digress...

On this Airtran flight, I was served a little packet of "Gourmet Pretzels." Dunno about the gourmet part, (I never ate them) but they seemed to realize that there would be loads of people just sitting there with nothing to do but to eat this little pack of pretzels and read the back of the packet in much the same way people read the back of cereal boxes while eating breakfast. I say this because on the back of the packet were directions for eating them!

Normally, I'm with Douglas Adams concerning the inclusion of instructions for seemingly obvious things... it's a sign that the inmates are running the asylum. For example, on a cup of coffee there's the brain-dead, 'caution! contents are hot!' Doug's personal favourite seemed to be instructions for use on a the side of a box of toothpicks. I agree with Wonko the Sane from Doug's book, HHGTTG, that any society which requires instructions for toothpicks is a society I would rather not be in.

Normally, I'd view instructions for eating a bag of peanuts in the same way, but this particular set of instructions was cheeky and did not take itself seriously; yet, it was filled with profound wisdom. (These two things often run hand in hand.)

The instructions were, as I saw it, simple and practical advice for meditation. Not what you'd expect from your average pretzel! They read:

1. Think about our wonderful low fairs as you open packet.
2. Place pretzel in mouth. With each crunch, be reminded of our low fares.
3. As you swallow, remember again, just how low the fares are.
4. Repeat until the pretzel packet is empty.
5. Keep empty packet to remind yourself to book with us again.

Yeah, okay, so there's an advertisement snuck in there. They were free pretzels, after all, I guess it's their right.

But there in the instructions is a practical guide to meditation which is how to experience the moment of living ... in this case, eating pretzels.

Personally, I try to experience the hardness, the saltiness, the browness, the quality of wheat, the shape, the time it takes to dissolve in my mouth, the feeling of this process, the taste, the aftertaste, etc., however you can also simply lose yourself in thought by focusing on an object - in this case, not the pretzel itself, but the low fares which lead to your enjoyment of said pretzels. (Presumably they don't want you thinking about how if you spent a few extra bucks, you'd be enjoying free wine and a decent meal!)

Also present in the instructions are two key ideas related to meditation: the idea of creating a ritual out of everyday life (by always doing the same set of actions), habitualizing that ritual (repeat until empty), and keeping always present with you the calmness found from meditation (keeping the packet).

If a million monkeys with a million typewriters would eventually rediscover Macbeth, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised if some stuffy airline execs eventually come across such profound insights for everyday living.

Now ... where'd my monkeys run off to?

Autobiography in Five Chapters

I recently came across this poem while reading "The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying." I know, light reading. The book begins by saying that the way to best live life is to know and understand death. It goes on to say that most Western folk go out of their way to avoid thinking of death, or even talking about it. This well predicts the reactions on peoples faces when they see what I'm reading.

Why am I reading it? Dunno. Why do we do anything? :) I bought it in London, never had time to read, now I have time, so I guess it's time.

Well, that, and I'm all into Buddhism and Toaism and meditation and such. I'm continually amazed at how the raw fringes of cutting-edge science is uncovering truths long taught by the Eastern mystics - but I'm tangeting...

Anyway, given that tomorrow I embark on a new journey - the start of the rest of my life, I think it's appropriate to repost here.

---

Autobiography in Five Chapters
(author unknown (to me))

1) I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost . . . I am hopeless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

2) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

3) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in . . . it's a habit.
My eyes are open
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

4) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

5) I walk down another street.