Am I the only one

...who is utterly in love with the ShamWow guy?

My mind has been blown

I was watching the movie Philadelphia and noticed this:




Does that look familiar to you? It should! It's the Fisher Freaking Fine Arts Library! They shot this scene of the movie in the Fine Arts Library! I've sat at that table! I could have sat in the same chair that Tom Hanks or Denzel Washington did 15 years ago. Oh my God. I guess I shouldn't be surprised given the name of the film but Oh My God. Excuse me while I salvage the pieces of my BLOWN MIND.

If I could have multiple husbands

I would marry Philip Seymour Hoffman.





I've lately been getting very clever spam that plays into my desire to be wanted. The address is always "To: ksam@seas.upenn.edu" so it could plausibly be legit. The subject line is the brilliant part though--"Why don't you pick up your phone?" "Re: Message" "I wanted to say sorry" "Long time no see"... How could I resist such pleas for my attention? I always delete them without opening though, my heart breaking just a little each time.

Christmas is all around us

Merry Christmas!


Brie and Pesto Fondue:



Yum.

Piggies say hello

Hello.


I have way too much fun with this damn blog. I love writing in it, even though everything I have written so far has been completely useless. I like the fact that I know exactly who's reading it (I believe there's four of you) and I'm kind of talking to them. Anyway, I should probably stop all the giddy self-referencing; it'll take me out of the "zone." So back into the zone we go.

According to my brother my website is pretentious. How is it pretentious? It's very simple, with a pleasant and drab color scheme. The content is plain and straightforward. It serves its purpose. It's not pretending to be anything besides a reflection of my drab personality and body of work. Nothing about me is pretentious. I lack pretention. My brother is pretentious. He has no taste. Hmph.

I don't like it when people disagree with me about me.

Hmph.

I have a website

I have created my first website since middle school. It is the greatest website ever created.

You can find it here.

I have no idea what this is

But it's so cute it makes you want to crap your pants.

Deep descriptive things

I am studying for Stat, but really I am just glaring furiously at my Stat textbook so that Dheepa will think I am studying, and my mind is wandering freely. I am feeling unsettled. I am shaking my leg in nervousness and its mass is swinging back and forth fantastically. The table also seems to be shaking a little and my monitor is nodding in response. My scalp hurts because I fell asleep on a couch in some musty basement with my hair slung over my face, and after 5 hours of being in this position, The Hair objects to my attempts at putting it in order again. I am checking my email every minute and gurgling with happiness every time I get a new message (usually penis spam). I am thinking about a variety of things, most of which relate to myself, and my thoughts are consistently interrupted by the bursts of panic I feel as I watch the clock on my computer sally forth. I am also gnawing on my fingers. Not the nails, just the fingers. They don't taste like anything because I am not actually eating them. I found a dollar in my calculator and a rolled up, unfamiliar sock in my purse. I'm looking at the walls of my room and realize that none of the decorations belong to me; they are random artifacts with the calculated purpose of lending me the appearance of novelty and culture. The things that should be on my walls are in my mind instead.

God, I hope everyone will be okay.

I don't know what my problem is

but I'm really, really self-conscious. I always have been. I actually used to be worse, if you can believe it. Everything I say or do, especially to people I don't know that well or (though it's embarrassing to admit) people I want to impress for whatever reason, is tempered and thought over and often regretted. People often think I'm shy, or retarded. I'm not. It's just that my brain is too sluggish to competently carry out the task of mulling over everything I say, and I only think of appropriately brilliant comments long after my window of opportunity has passed. I cannot keep up with conversation. So I usually just listen and smile stupidly, blissfully unaware that this does not make me a valuable contributor to any discussion. I can go for absurdly long stretches of time saying absolutely nothing, but being completely engaged and involved. And when I do try to throw out something, it is often inappropriate or confusing and usually falls flat. I imagine my attempts at conversation make people feel uncomfortable and sad. It's like a hamster without legs trying to run on a hamster wheel. It's horrible and embarrassing to watch, but what can you do? You let it keep on trying.



Also, I worship at the feet of Paul Messaris. He my idol and a demigod and I have a huge, huge, creepy crush on him.

I love Jason Bateman

Here's a Jason Bateman GAP ad:

More Ben Franklin antics and dudes kissing

Here is a book of writings by Ben Franklin:

























In other words, he is my hero.


















In my Visual Communications class, we talked a little bit about how visual media is used to advance social issues like civil rights, and about how film is often the most effective vehicle for doing so. One interesting example is the scene from Dude, Where's My Car? where Ashton Kutcher, in an effort to upstage Fabio, decides to kiss Sean William Scott. In the words of gay filmmaker Bruce LaBruce:

The actors neither overplay nor underplay the moment and show no visible trace of disgust or regret afterward. I was almost in tears. This one scene does more to advance the cause of homosexuality than 25 years of gay activism.

That's a slightly extreme reaction, especially since the scene was played for laughs, but I must admit that in an otherwise over-the-top dumb comedy, it could have been a lot, lot worse. I would have expected the filmmakers to grossly exaggerate and make a farce of it, but they didn't. It's actually a pretty well-made scene, even if the rest of the movie is from most accounts (I haven't seen it) incredibly stupid. If you want to watch it, click on the scandalous picture above.

My goal

My goal from now on is to be more optimistic. I think I've sunk into a very dark, bitter state that is both unnecessary and uncharacteristic.

Also, I need to work on developing a more sophisticated sense of humor. My "just giggle at everything and you'll be fine" principle is starting to lose its effectiveness.

I don't think I ever want to compete again.








The picture of George Washington on the quarter was always a little unsettling to me, and it is only just now that I figured out why. It's because he's naked! Granted, only his neck is showing, but in those days if you were naked up to there, you were naked all over. Who would have thought to put such a risque image on currency?

Another picture taken completely out of context

Actually, this one isn't exactly out of context. That really is a 19th century gentleman giving a 19th century lady a good once-over.

AHHHH

HHHHHHHHRRRRRGHH


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


utyfuyigiuo;ih;ougutdtestre


It seems that no matter how preemptively low I set my expectations, I will never fail to be surprised.


I used to be a lot nicer.


And, I have no life.

Dance and Porn

Here is a poem I wrote about dance:

Dance
Glistening foreheads, damp underarms
Awkward innuendo, incest
Sore calves, wounded egos
Bad music, great downbeats
Russians
Dance


And here is some porn:



















It is a vulgar and scandalous picture of my nekkid leg.

Little Albert

Little Albert was a baby who was a test subject for Dr. John B. Watson of Johns Hopkins University in the early 20s. Watson wanted to extend the findings of Pavlov's dog studies to human children. He decided that the best way to do this was to find a baby and train it to fear soft, fluffy things.











The following are notes from the experiment:

Age: 11 months, 3 days

• White rat suddenly taken from the basket and presented to Albert. Just as his hand touched the animal the bar was struck immediately behind his head. The infant jumped violently and fell forward, burying his face in the mattress.
• Just as the right hand touched the rat the bar was again struck. Again the infant jumped violently, fell forward and began to whimper.

Age: 11 months, 10 days

• Rat presented suddenly without sound. When the rat nosed the infant's left hand, the hand was immediately withdrawn. It is thus seen that the two joint stimulations given the previous week were not without effect.
• Joint stimulation. Fell over immediately to right side and began to whimper.
• Rat alone. The instant the rat was shown the baby began to cry. Almost instantly he turned sharply to the left, fell over on left side, raised himself on all fours and began to crawl away so rapidly that he was caught with difficulty before reaching the edge of the table.

Age: 11 months, 15 days

• Rat alone. Whimpered immediately, withdrew right hand and turned head and trunk away.
• Rabbit alone. Negative responses began at once. He leaned as far away from the animal as possible, whimpered, then burst into tears. When the rabbit was placed in contact with him he buried his face in the mattress, then got up on all fours and crawled away.
• Fur coat (seal). Withdrew immediately to the left side and began to fret. Coat put close to him on the left side, he turned immediately, began to cry and tried to crawl away on all fours.
• [A lab assistant] brought the Santa Claus mask and presented it to Albert. He was again pronouncedly negative.

Age: 11 months, 20 days

• Rat alone. Withdrawal of the whole body, bending over to left side, no crying. Fixation and following with eyes. It was thought best to freshen up the reaction by another joint stimulation.
• Just as the rat was placed on his hand the rod was struck. Reaction violent.
• Rabbit alone. Leaned over to left side as far as possible. Began to whimper.
• When the rabbit was left on Albert's knees for a long time he began tentatively to reach out and manipulate its fur with forefingers. While doing this the steel rod was struck. A violent fear reaction resulted.
• Rabbit alone. Started immediately to whimper, holding hands far up, but did not cry.

Age: 12 months, 21 days

• Santa Claus mask. Withdrawal, gurgling, then slapped at it without touching. When his hand was forced to touch it, he whimpered and cried. He finally cried at the mere visual stimulus of the mask.
• Fur coat. Wrinkled his nose and withdrew both hands, drew back his whole body and began to whimper as the coat was put nearer. In moving his body to one side his hand accidentally touched the coat. He began to cry at once, nodding his head in a very peculiar manner.
• The rat. He allowed the rat to crawl towards him without withdrawing. The rat was then allowed to crawl against his chest. He first began to fret and then covered his eyes with both hands.
• The rabbit. After a few seconds he puckered up his face, began to nod his head and to look intently at the experimenter. He reached out tentatively with his left hand and touched the animal, shuddered and withdrew the whole body. The experimenter then took hold of his left hand and laid it on the rabbit's back. Albert immediately withdrew his hand and began to suck his thumb. Again the rabbit was laid in his lap. He began to cry, covering his face with both hands.

The good doctor considered undoing the effects of his experiment (which, disturbingly, involved potentially "stimulating sex organs") but decided against it in the interest of time. On the plus side, the experiment was enlightening and taught psychologists a lot about conditioning, but sadly resulted in the creation of a man with an intense fear of bunnies and Santa masks.

Family and other things.

Here is an old fable which I narrate often to anyone who will listen:

A frog and a scorpion want to cross a river. The scorpion says to the frog,"Will you carry me on your back as you swim across?" The frog says, "Now, why would I do that? You will sting me!" The scorpion replies, "Well, if I sting you, then you would die and I would drown." The frog decides that this is a valid argument and lets the scorpion ride on his back. Halfway across the river, he feels a sharp prick in his side. He exclaims, "Scorpion! Why did you sting me? Now we will both die!" "I tried to help it, but I couldn't," the scorpion says. "It's in my nature."


In my Visual Communication class yesterday, we talked about parody, and why it is so popular. One theory is based on evolutionary psychology: we like to see spawn. We as humans like comparing children to their parents, copies to originals. I think this is definitely true, at least for me. I like comparing people to their family members, see what has been passed on, whether their little quirks or habits are inherited.

I am sad.

You should let the turtle live alone.

Hm

If you made a turtle and you gave it no shell and no legs and one eye, would you make it live its life with other, normal turtles, or would you make it live alone so it never knows it's inferior?


I'm listening to romantic songs

(Two most romantic songs on my playlist: "Don't Wanna Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith and "J'ai Tout Oublie" by Marc Lavoine & Cristina Morocco)

and I'm trying to pretend I know what they're about and it's kind of nice. It's also kind of weird because I suddenly feel very moved by the ray tracer I'm trying to build for CS.

This is my second add-on to this post. (Psst... It's no longer 11/12 but I'm too cool to post two days in a row) I've decided I should never listen to music while I study because a) it makes my homework seem way too dramatic and b) part a is irrelevant because I end not doing my homework anyway. I've also decided that Thomas Newman is the most brilliant, brilliant composer there ever was, and that film music the best kind of music, period.

4 best Thomas Newman soundtracks:

1. Road to Perdition. JUST BEAUTIFUL. The main theme is classic Newman, evocative and full of strings, then come the tracks that betray his recent (well, semi-recent) foray into experimental sounds and exotic instrumentation. Amazing.
2. American Beauty. One of the all time greatest soundtracks ever. Which is a broad generalization to make, considering I don't really know much about music. But whatever, it's great.
3. Finding Nemo. The main theme is a Waltz. Also, it's so beautiful it makes you want to cry.
4. Um. I don't really have one. I actually only know the above three. I'm kind of a shitty fan.

Also, I just silently burped and I'm proud because no one noticed.

House

I've never been so delighted to see old people kiss!

My blog is useless

Other peoples' blogs are full of rich, informative insight into the world and themselves. The entries are interesting and witty. My blog entries are much like myself: short and dumb. And kind of ugly. Did you see the formatting on the last two? Ick.

And now a picture taken completely out of context

(For the pathologically curious, this is the image found on the Penn Relays trophy, and depicts happier times when relays were best run in the nude and supervised by Ben Franklin. Also, I have the maturity of a 5-year-old.)





I am a sucker for attention.

I was studying in the bookstore today when a man wandered in and started talking loudly to himself. This went on for a while, until he decided to shake things up and talk loudly to the strangers around him instead. It was, to say the least, very irritating, and everyone in the vicinity eventually left. I, too, decided to pack my stuff and leave, but not before he noticed that I was still around and lumbered over to chat. I braced myself and prepared to ignore him, but as soon as he started talking to me, I was won over. I decided I liked him, and engaged in light conversation for the few seconds before a security guard came and gently escorted him away.

Am I boring?

Yes.






Four random horrifying childhood memories:


Getting pecked to death by chickens. Multiple times.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KgPMe51Uoxg

Um... Okay. So, not that horrifying in retrospect. But I cannot describe the initial terror my brother and I felt when we realized the chickens would actually attack.

Watership Down.

Without a doubt, one of the most brutal, violent, sadistic "children's" movies ever made. It made me scared of movies containing rabbits. I cried once when our kindergarten class started watching a BBC version of "Peter Rabbit" because I was convinced that at any moment, blood would come pouring out of Peter's every orifice.







Petting zoo in preschool.

Rabbits have not been good to me.

We had a petting zoo bring bunnies and tarantulas to our preschool. I liked the tarantulas. They were cute and stupid. I was terrified of the bunnies.

Some genius decided it was a good idea to let the bunnies run around unattended in a room full of 5-year-olds. What they failed to take into account was that rabbits have an annoying tendency to die horribly when under extreme stress (like, say, the stress that comes from a little kid trying to pull your ears off). I successfully caught a bunny, watched its little heart beat visibly and its little nose twitch, and decided it was so cute--until it decided to die. In my lap. While my parents watched.

I cried and dropped it, and it was reanimated, but the image of its temporarily lifeless form was forever burned into my mind.

Getting lost on a beach.

This one may not really count, because my memory of it was very fuzzy. I don't know which beach, how old I was, who was there, or--if I'm going to completely honest--if I was even really lost. All I can remember is suddenly feeling terrified and not being able to find my parents, and sitting in a puddle of wet sand and crying. However, I recently found a photograph of me at a beach, sitting in a puddle of wet sand and crying, while my mother laughs in the distance. So either I was an incredibly stupid kid with incredibly mean parents, or I was not actually lost.

Dunkin' Donuts

I love Dunkin' Donuts. I am such a frequent patron that the people there know me. They have good bagels.

My teeth

I've had a problem for several years where, periodically, the gap between two of my back teeth in the top row of my jaw will start to hurt. It's very annoying. I should probably check it out.

Also, I'm in love with Paul Messaris.

It is a lot easier

to write things down than to say them out loud. So maybe I will start to write things down. I will operate under the illusion that people will actually read this, or maybe that I will read it in the future and find it amusing or uncomfortable.

I almost cried today. I say almost, because when I realized what was happening I got so excited that I accidentally stopped. That was sad. It's been a while since I've felt moved enough by something to cry. I don't remember the last time I cried without forcing myself to. I force myself to because it's cathartic, but I'm not very good at it and I often fail.

I love people. I love learning about them and thinking about them and talking about them. I love being surprised by them, and being disappointed by them. I want to know what makes someone tick, what their childhood was like, what their life is like. I like making blatant assumptions about them and being proven wrong--or right. Most people don't realize how fascinating they are. But every person has so many layers and quirks and flaws that I can think of nothing more fulfilling than talking to someone and picking them apart. I want people to take me into their confidence. I want them to trust me, and to share with me their pain and happiness. I want to feel close to them, for them to feel close to me. Why do people hide themselves when they have so much to offer?

It is ironic and kind of disappointing that I care about people so much and yet know so few of them and have learned so little about the ones I do know.

But I guess you can't have everything.

I have found

nothing yet, but I will keep looking.

Social Commentary

is not nearly as interesting as psychological insight. It's easy to look at society and say, "Well, look at that, it's screwed up!" It is much more difficult say the same about the depths of your own soul. At least, to say it with the same gusto.

On an unrelated note, I am listening to brother and co. get high outside. They apparently decided that the spot right outside my window is ideal territory for shooting up and then screaming at each other. Or whatever it is they're doing. Never mind that their crazed, drug-fueled rampage is rudely impeding my meditation on my unnaturally large big toe.

But really, I'm just bitter that I have no one to get high with on this pleasant Wednesday morning. :(

Conservapedia: The Trustworthy Encyclopedia

So I was casually investigating Einstein's theory of relativity (because looking up insane physics theories that I will never understand is a happy little hobby of mine) when I stumbled upon this fascinating website. Apparently we've all been wiling away our time on the wrong wiki-based encyclopedia all along--Wikipedia is, in fact, ragingly biased, and it is the star-spangled Conservapedia that bravely rises to the challenge of providing reliable, easily editable information.

Among Conservapedia's terms of use, or "Commandments," are the decrees that users must fully cite their sources, must not harrass other other users, and must present their information as hearsay rather than fact. As a result, according to the site, their pages are completely unbiased.

Sounds good, right? Until you realize that the whole deal is an insidious plot to spread hate and injustice, all the while allowing its orchestrators to grin sheepishly and point to their "sources."

Now, I will admit that Conservapedia makes no attempt to hide its... erm... conservative slant. From the patriotic colors to the top-viewed pages (among them atheism, homosexuality, and --I kind you not-- unicorn) to the goddamn name, this haven of knowledge waves its red flag proudly.

Obviously, there is nothing wrong with defending the right side of town, but these guys have bumbled about it the wrong way--outrageous and offensive claims (including an article dedicated to the supposed link between homosexuality and domestic abuse), a complete lack of substantial evidence (in the previously mentioned unicorn article, the author attempts to justify the existence of unicorns by citing a guy who effectively said, on the phone and possibly while drunk, "Sure, why not?"), and the dogged assertion that everything they say is objective and unbiased. Apparently, objective means "Somebody somewhere thinks I'm right," and unbiased means "Fun to laugh at." I've seen coffee stains more thoughtful and well-researched.

That being said, the site is small and doesn't really get that much traffic, so the damage it can wreak on civilization is fairly limited. All the same, the fact that a site like this can not only exist, but can tout itself as a harbinger of truth, speaks volumes of the unlimited freedom of the internet and the lengths people with go to... Ah, screw it. It's just bad.

Tubby

I've gained weight. I am sitting, bloated, with my jeans literally unbuttoned because they are so tight. And I'm eating.

Man, I love the summer.

Triscuit

Triscuits contain MSG. Specifically, Rosemary and Olive Oil Triscuits. Like, wow. Never knew that.