The Runcible Blog

So I got a Logitech Quickcam Express today. This is an experiment. As you can see, it updates the picture on the side bar every 30 seconds. The webcam itself is here and updates every 10 seconds. Now I sit back and watch what happens.

I'm tired. I got little sleep last night. I drove Judy to John's place this morning because she may be moving out. It was sad. I hope she can handle living away from home and paying for school and everything. I really hope so. I hope we remain good friends. I didn't say anything, but it's upsetting that Judy mentions Jehae so much. I don't want to be reminded of her. I can think about it myself if I wanted to, but please don't bring up every memory from the past. What's done is done. It hurts enough as it is. thank you. I was probably being hasty when I said that Judy was too insensitive. She just doesn't know what can hurt sometimes......

I thought it was pretty funny that someone found my blog while doing a search for naked pictures of Gimli. That's right folks, naked pictures of this guy: Think about that for a moment...... I'm sorry, dear visitor, but I have no naked pictures of that hot dwarf. You might want to try this disgusting site though. I don't know if Gimli is there -- I didn't do a thorough search. For embarrassment's sake, the IP address, 62.254.128.7, points to an Inktomi Traffic Server (a proxy server) in the Oxford, England area. I can imagine someone sitting at their job in Oxford, sipping earl grey, and searching the Internet for naked pictures of a dwarf named Gimli. What is the world coming to?

I can feel my pulse when I grab the skin on my belly. It's so clear, it vibrates my fingertips. Sometimes I think there's a murmur, but I suppose it's nothing. 68 beats per minute. That seems average, normal, medium. I was thinking about medium. I'm a medium kind of guy. I order a medium lemonade and medium fries to go with my plain cheeseburger. I eat medium ham and cheese submarine sandwiches and would choose a medium pizza if such a thing existed. I wear medium pants around my medium waist, and my medium sized shirts compliment my size 10 shoes. I'm wearing black and gray fleece right now -- simple, average, medium. My hair used to be blonde, now it's brown, not black, red, or yellow. In high school, I wasn't "cool" enough for the "cool kids", I wasn't nerdy enough for the nerds, athletic enough for the jocks, introverted enough for the quiet types, extroverted enough for the loud-mouths, unhip enough for the squares, trendy enough for the trendites, conforming enough for the conformists, or radical enough for the extremists. On the track I wasn't fast enough to run with the greyhounds nor was I slow enough to lag behind with the clydesdales. More often than not I occupied some void by myself, watching both groups recede from my vision in opposing directions. And not just on the track. In the past, I would try to conform to one group or another, which would lead only to frustration. I don't belong with those other groups. I belong in this void. Afterall, someone has to cover this space. Someone has to finish 5th out of 10. Someone has to order medium french fries or they'll stop making the cartons. Someone has to stay far enough from the nerds, jocks, and the rest to attempt to explain the whole mess. I may be medium, but I'm not average. Average is something else -- some other group. If you had to stick me on the bell curve, I'd be sitting in that big empty space underneath the hump. There's more room to breathe under here.

I called Jessika earlier today but she didn't answer. She called right back and asked for someone named sean. She thought that someone else had called her....must've been disappointed that it was me... I give up pursuing her. It seems the signs said DO NOT ENTER afterall. *sigh* What now, I ask?

I've learned quite a bit about myself and others today. I don't think I can summarize it though. The thing that sticks out is the observation by a few people that I seem uncomfortable in my body. I think I understand, and I know it's gradually becoming less of a problem. Nothing is permanent.

Adaptation is a pretty good movie. I can't really describe the movie at this hour, but it's very "clever". Some reviewers at IMDB, however, apparently didn't get the irony or anything else. I shouldn't be surprised though. They didn't understand that the final third of the movie was when "Donald" came in to help his brother finish the script, and Charlie picked up the ideas of that writing teacher or whatever he was. It was actually kind of funny. Even the music changed during the ridiculous swamp chase to some typical chase music. It was well done. But apparently it was subtle enough for a lot of the audience to miss the point and think it was just a badly written hollywood ending. Well, that was the point. It's called irony -- look it up. It's too bad that so many people seemed to completely miss the point of the movie. I hope it gets the credit it deserves. Although I would say that it did seem a bit long -- I was expecting the ending to come sooner, but it wasn't an unbearable wait. All in all, I give it a rating of two thumbs up the sphincter!

I often think about the different "voices" that people use when speaking to different audiences. I've noticed it a lot; it isn't subtle to me at all. In fact, it's a very phony way of interacting with others. I won't name names, but I've overheard people who are talking to acquaintances in such a fake, overly polite or friendly voice that it almost borders on patronizing. Yeah, I think that's the right word. These same people will also talk to the elderly in a slightly different but still patronizing voice. I've overheard conversations with my grandfather where the other person sounded like they were talking to a child. Why? I can't help but think that the recipient of such a voice would notice the patronizing tone. Well, maybe little kids don't notice the difference when someone older talks down to them, but I notice it! Why talk down to kids? You can talk to them without regressing into a quasi-child-like state. Try it! I have to admit that I'm guilty of using that tone when talking to kids sometimes, but I try to catch myself and avoid doing it. Certainly I avoid using a different tone when talking to, for instance, a cashier at a store. Why should I change my tone depending on who I talk to? Why can't we talk to each other as equals? Does anyone else think it's weird to put on a false "friendly voice" when speaking to casual acquaintances? I don't know. This is a behavior that I notice all the time. and I wonder why people do it. Actually, from my brief studies of the Korean language, I know that that their whole society/language is very much based on labels, positions, ranks, and seniority. In Korean, you don't usually call someone Mr.Smith; you'd call him "lawyer Smith" or "garbage man Smith" or something like that. And then you would use formal or informal verbs depending on whether or not the other person is more important than yourself. At least I think that's the general idea. English is much more democratic and flexible regarding labels, and maybe that is the reason why we have this tendency to change our tone if not our words when speaking to different types of people. As for me, like I said, I try to catch myself when I start changing my tone for some reason. This probably makes me come off as a monotone, boring-sounding kind of guy, but hey, at least I'm trying to be honest, right?

I feel compelled to write an entry. Something that Judy wrote interested me:

anyway, after some coaxing and some guilt and some boredom last night, I told dave I'd come over. well, I don't know why I'm writing so much. it felt very much like portnoy's holiday with pumpkin's family. you know, they don't cook white bread through all the way. I'm not really dissing the st. germain clan really. it just felt weird. a social group.

I guess this is the context she was referring to. It's an nice bit of writing, and it got me thinking about how "outsiders" perceive my family. I wonder if the average outsider would see our family as anything but dysfunctional if the only experience he or she had with us was like the christmas eve gathering. I wonder if Judy's perception was genuine and if others would have the same experience. But I think we in my family know that all the holiday glee (what little there is) is a facade. Gatherings like christmas, thanksgiving, and easter are only ephemeral cease-fires. And even those don't always last the whole day (witness Lea's meltdown on christmas). Reading Judy's comment induces two conflicting feelings. On the one hand, I feel a sense of pride that the family is able to put aside any differences for a brief time and at least create a semblance of harmony. On the other hand, I feel a great disappointment knowing that the truth is not nearly as sugar coated as we would like others to believe.

I went to bed a little before 4am only to have my grandfather wake me up 2 and a half hours later so that I could go outside and shovel the driveway with Nathan. hooray for snowstorms. Of course, I can't go back to sleep now because I'm weird like that. I'll probably pass out some time later.

Christmas just wasn't that eventful this year. As a result, I won't write about it. As more and more information concerning the September 11th government bungling, I came across this site which has a very detailed, down to the minute timeline of what happened that day (and yes, I read the whole thing...). If anyone has the patience to read it, it's interesting. Among other points, this one stands out as particularly bizarre:

9:05 A.M. Bush is still reading to 18 Booker Elementary School second-graders a story about a girl's pet goat. His chief of staff Andrew Card, whispers into his ear, "A second plane has hit the World Trade Center. America is under attack." [Telegraph, 12/16/01] He says nothing in response, but continues reading the goat story after a brief pause. Then, in an event noticeable in its absence, as one newspaper put it, "for some reason, Secret Service agents [do] not bustle him away." [Globe and Mail, 9/12/01] At some point shortly after, reporters ask him if he is aware of the two crashes and explosions. He nods and says he will talk about the situation later. [CNN, 9/12/01] Bush continues to read about goats for the next 20 minutes or so. The reason given is that they didn't want to scare the children.

I really hope the upcoming investigation into what went wrong will do some good and bring to light all of the obvious lapses that happened in the days prior to the 11th. It seems pretty clear to me that either there was some conspiracy to let the hijackers complete their scheme, or our government is incredibly inept. It may be a little of both. who knows? Either way, there are definitely people in the government who should be held accountable for the things that went wrong instead of being promoted for their efforts in the "war on terror".

I'm not really in the festive mood. After all, there's no snow on the ground. My car failed the safety inspection and needs repairs that I can't afford. Jobs are scarce. Friends are scarce. I miss someone.

I haven't done much photography lately. What is it with people who want to compare a picture to one by some other photographer? Why can't they resist the urge to compare? I used to think it was a compliment if someone said that a picture of mine reminded them of a Robert Frank, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Garry Winogrand, Weegee, or some other photographer's picture. But I don't see it as much of a compliment anymore. What it says to me is that the person can't overcome their preconceptions. I'm not just speaking from my own experiences with such people. I see it on photo.net and elsewhere. People will say, "what a great picture! It is reminiscent of a Steiglitz...blah blah" What it amounts to is hero worship. So, instead of having a great picture stand for itself, you have a picture that is great because it emulates some dead photographer.... I also tend to think that many of those "arm-chair art critics" are trying to impress us with their knowledge of dead artists. It also makes me cringe when people really get into the spirit of hero worship when they say things like "Ansel Adams could take 1000% better pictures than mine if all he had to use was a pinhole camera, and his arms were tied behind his back!" I mean, give me a break. A salseman in a bike store once said that even if all he had was a tricycle with flat tires, Lance Armstrong could still kick everyone's ass. Hey, that's great. Maybe Lance Armstrong and Ansel Adams could be some kind of Superhero Duo that fights crime, wins bike races, and takes outstanding photographs. Maybe they could also round up all the art critics and hero worshippers, carry them up into space (riding a tricycle with flat tires), and hurl them into the sun.

Last night I saw Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers with Judy. I give it 37 out of 38.219 specs of lint. (that's a good rating) I did have some problems with some of the editing decisions. It seems that in the wake of September 11, 2001, the writers and director Peter Jackson decided to change some of the characters and plot devices. Here are some of the more controversial changes:

• changing the name of Mordor (home of Sauron) to "Iraqdor"
• Sauron's name was changed to "Saddam"
• Saruman's name was changed to "Osama-man"
• the CG artists digitally added turbans on each of the 10,000 Uruk Hai heads in the Battle of Helm's Deep
• Gandalf the White was replaced with "George the White" (subtle...)
• the scene with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli raising a large, tattered American flag after the Battle of Helm's Deep

but perhaps the most blatant change was the scene (added in post production) of 19 Orcs hijacking two 767's and dramatically flying them into the Two Towers while aboard a third 767, Harrison Ford successfully defeated the Orc hijackers and landed the jumbo jet at Gondor. Just after the planes hit, there was a cut to a closeup of Frodo (Elijah Wood) shedding a single solitary tear while the reflection of the crumbling towers shown in his digitally-enhanced blue eyes. I mean, that part just didn't make sense at all. I don't know how the producers got away with such a blatant disregard for the story or setting. But I have to admit, I got a little teary-eyed after the defeat of the taliban Uruk Hai when Aragorn eloquently stated, "The Axis of Evil will never defeat Middle Earth's values of Democracy, Freedom, and Justice under God. We will pursue these evil-doing terrorists to Afghanigard, Iraqdor and wherever their evil network of evil rears it's ugly, evil, Islamic head." as all the Ewoks cheered.

I had a nightmarish sort of dream last night wherein I was a soldier on another planet fighting this swarm-like insect that devoured everything and was impervious to any weapons. And somehow the swarm also manifested itself as an orange cat, but it was a menacing cat. The only way I could escape it was by jumping in the ocean (I can't swim) naked. You had to be naked or else the cat/insect swarm would find you. And at one point the cat jumped in the ocean and was just feet away from me. I couldn't bear to look, but I thought, "that's it. at any moment I'm going to be gobbled up by this ruthless alien, and there's nothing I can do but sit here in the ocean and think happy thoughts." And amazingly, the cat passed by me and devoured my commanding officer instead. But that was a scary moment. The dream continued for a while....People colonized the planet after the cat/swarm left, but I stayed there and played the role of the paranoid-guy-who-freaks-out-because-he-thinks-the-aliens-are-going-to-return-and-kill-everyone-and-no-one-believes-him. But I think that's what happened. It gets hazy after that. Usually I have fairly realistic and mundane dreams, so this one was pretty wacky.

So, I plunked down $600 of my hard-earned moolah to pay for insurance and registration of my car today. It was pretty exciting. Now I can drive around places -- all I need is a destination and a passenger, preferably. I managed to drive to Salem State without dying, so I'm off to a good start. And to ensure my alertness, I downed a regular Double D's coffee on the way back (of course, I had Pink Floyd blaring, which sort of counteracts the coffee). Now I just hope the caffeine wears off so that I can sleep tonight. I miss Jessika. I don't know what it is about her...she's got a spell on me. Or maybe it's just that she is elusive. I can't read the signs. I hope I'm not confusing "PROCEED WITH CAUTION" with "DO NOT ENTER" or "DEAD END". if that makes sense. I don't want to get stuck running around a Grecian Urn, but at the same time, I don't want to let such a groovy chica slip away so easily (especially since she's single, for pete's sake!). Anyway, I have to give her those prints eventually, so that'll be fun. Ack. must sleep.

After lots and lots of reading, I can't decide whether I should start a revolution or go hide in a corner. Pursuing the whole secret society/Illuminati thing, I found, among other things, this page which exposes the Freemasons as a Satanic organization bent on ruling the world (or at least the "advanced" Freemasons have that goal). I had known absolutely nothing about their group before today. And man, is it weird... What's scarier is the connection the Freemasons/Illuminati have to our government. For instance, the symbol on every dollar bill, and the Illuminati-based logo for the newly created Information Awareness Office (whose job it will be to spy on Americans, basically). Another fishy group that has power in the political, media, and financial worlds is the Council on Foreign Relations, of which nearly all of the U.S. presidents and secretaries of defense have been members since the council was created by none other than members of the Order of Skull and Bones.... Some people claim that the CFR is another offshoot of the Illuminati's with a similar group in the U.K. Indeed, the CFR holds meetings that are "off the record" in which members aren't allowed to reveal the contents to the public. Incidentally, prominent players in the media (Tom Brokaw and Jim Lehrer come to mind) are members of the Council. Chew on that for a little while. I've got to get some fresh air before there's no more fresh air left!

Wow. I spent much of last night reading about the Bush clan and a secret Yale society called The Order of Skull and Bones. Here is an interesting (though somewhat paranoid) article about the group and its far reaching influence. Some of the most powerful men in this country for the past 200 years or so have been members of this group. George W. Bush, George H.W. Bush, and William Howard Taft (apparently a relative of the Bush family) are all members. Not only that -- George W.'s granddaddy, Prescott Bush, along with the Harriman family (also members) controlled banks and investment firms that funded the Nazis throughout WWII and funded the Soviet Communists afterward! It gets better (or worse)... The Order of Skull and Bones (which may or may not be an offshoot of the Illuminati group) aims to control both sides of a conflict. Take, for instance, the fact that the Harriman family was responsible for major funding and influence in Bill Clinton's presidential campaign..... A Google search of this nefarious fraternity leads to all kinds of information (though this is a secret society, so not everything is out in the open). People have done lots of research, and I'm surprised (maybe I shouldn't be surprised) that so little is made of these connections through history, from opium trading through to the "war on drugs", to banking, oil, the Bush family....wow. incredible. Here's something to think about: John Kerry, who may become the leading Democratic candidate for president in 2004, is himself a member of the Order of Skull and Bones, class of 1966.......

Here are a couple flash files I found on this here Intar-web: Learn the alphabet! "It's called Mario Twins."

Last night I had a bunch of hits on my site from 4 different computers on the 5th floor of 575 Commonwealth Ave. at BU, along with other hits from other places that seemed related to the first ones. I wonder what that was all about......

Now Playing: Old Man from the album "'Decade' disc 2" by Neil Young It's always frustrating when people ask me questions if they aren't really paying attention to the answer or aren't really interested in the answer. In cases like that, I usually just mumble something, and if they persist or seem to pay attention, I'll actually answer them. For instance, on thanksgiving my aunt asked me in passing "what's a quarter note?" while doing other things and not really paying attention. I mean, how do you explain what a quarter note is in that situation? In general though, isn't it a good idea not to ask questions if you're not going to listen to the answer? I guess some people just feel that they should try to make conversation, but it's insulting. On another note, although I don't think Amie reads this any longer, if you do read this, please reconsider dropping out of high school. It's just no good. I don't know where my old friends who dropped out are now, but I bet you'll regret it if you do drop out. Coming from a college dropout/flunky, you can take my advice with a grain of salt.......heed my words though!

I just added the color pictures of Jessika to the gallery. I used Fuji NPH and tinkered in photoshop (badly....). Color is definitely not my forte yet. Speaking of forte, I used 11x14 Forte Elegance for my final project which everyone seemed to like. I know I could've done a better job with the printing, but I'm also my worst critic, so whatever. The T.A. commented that it seemed as if I knew Jessika very well (although it was the first time we met). I think that was a nice compliment, but I have to give a lot of credit to Jessika for being very comfortable in front of the camera. Now Playing: Heart of Gold by Neil Young

I don't have all the answers. And no, I don't practice what I preach. ----- tomorrow, the dodge aires is leaving our driveway to reunite with the rest of the junk in the junkyard. It won't be missed. In fact, we're having a going away party, and the car isn't invited. Tough luck, sucker. that's all for now

At long last I have a car! I'm dancing a jig as I write this. Of course, I can't use it yet because it's not registered or insured, but that doesn't stop me from sitting in the driver's seat making noises and listening to the radio..... I was supposed to do something else today.....I forget.

After some photographing and walking with Judy, the silly photo class, and a very long, messy party at Lizzie's, I got maybe 5 hours of sleep. Then I headed out to meet Jessika for more shooting. bang bang. look out. It was pretty fun, and she is really cool -- not intimidating like I may have expected. I developed the film, and the negatives look good. I'm anxious to print them. There might not be much on my fancy-lad roll of professional Fuji NPH, however. I hope there's at least something good on it -- at least those lovely green eyes...... now, sleep

So I didn't get that job at Andover Photo. They found someone with more experience. The search continues...... Soon I should have a car, and I'm very thankful for the generosity of the Beck clan (until the car explodes, that is) because it was a pretty good deal. Insurance will be another matter though.... With any luck, I'll try my hand at photographing a model(or aspiring model. good enough) tomorrow. I'm crossing my fingers that everything works out. For now, I'm going to try to take some pictures of this incoming snow. but it's cold outside. waaaaaa!

In Soviet Russia, blog writes you!

December 12, 2001 The floor looks like marble. She reads a book as if nothing else in the world mattered. He reads the local rag, wearing a fuzzy red cap and coke-bottle glasses. He tells a story to a semi-interested young lady. Noble red golf-hat and an African accent? What is he writing? Oh, nothing special. A faint smile. Wide eyes -- toying with me.

From: "G-heh Kim" Date: Tue Dec 3, 2002 00:41:11 US/Eastern To: dcs@bu.edu Subject: sorry to bother you... I thought i'd let you know how miserable my life is. because you hate me so much and all. i spend the entire thanksgiving break being lectured and told -what a terrible dresser i am - that i need to grow up - that i need to Act and look more like an adult - that i need to be pro-active - that i don't know where i'm going because i'm immature and have no concept of the future - that i need to learn how to take care of myself - that my parents aren't going to be around forever telling me what to do...basically that i need to grow up. so the whole family joined in in critisizing me and making me feel terrible. you arent the only one who thinks badly of me. We spent the whole entire thanksgiving arguing. and shouting and arguing. And most of the arguing was about me and how incompetent i am. Now i'm even more stressed because of all of that...and schoolwork. how was your thanksgiving? I hope it was better than mine. -i guess i'm writing to you, because i dont' know. i know you hate me nad never want to talk to me, but i don't know.

-------------------------------------------------- Shortly after:

From: "G-heh Kim" Date: Tue Dec 3, 2002 02:00:11 US/Eastern To: dcs@bu.edu Subject: IGNORE THAT LAST EMAIL! ignore that last email. just delete it. I shouldn't be complaining to you. i'm sorry i bothered you. i'm just feeling pathetic and sorry for myself again. IGNORE THAT last email. i'm just a bitch and feeling whiney.

In between coughs and sneezes, I was thinking about some things -- some important observations. I think it's important for all of us to be honest with ourselves and others. We often shy away from facing ourselves at all costs. We distract ourselves with hobbies, activities, jobs, friends, etc. But take away all of those things, and you'll have an opportunity to be honest with yourself and really look at who you are. What I've just been thinking about is fear. If the rest of this offends you, tough cookies. Argue with me if you want; it's better than ignoring the problem. Our Fears My mother has a fear of constancy. My father has a fear of uncertainty. My brother has a fear of commitment. My sister has a fear of solitude. I have a fear of rejection. Of course, that's only a small part of the story. But it's a start. I can think about how our fears have a strangle hold on our lives sometimes and determine our occasionally-irrational behavior.... Have you, the reader, taken time lately to confront your fears? Now, it's bed time.

I intended on taking a few night-time pictures of the reservoir area, when 3 cop cars came zooming down haverhill street and on to ames street. Naturally, I stopped to see what was going down and maybe take a few pictures if there was anything exciting. Apparently, a lady tripped her panic alarm in her house, but when the cops arrived, she just wouldn't answer the door. They were knocking and knocking, went around the back, flashed lights and tried everything, but she wouldn't come out. We could plainly see her inside with her baby in her arms, and the cops motioned to her in the window to open the door, but she just went upstairs, closed the window shade, and stayed there....After about 20 minutes or longer, the police left. I can't imagine why she wouldn't open the door if only to tell them that everything was alright. Maybe she was having a panic attack and was too afraid to open the door. Or maybe there was something else going on in there. who knows? One can only imagine, or read about it in the paper tomorrow. It was so cold that my fingers weren't moving, so I didn't get the reservoir pictures like I planned. try again tomorrow. or today. whichever it is.

I was so impressed with "Shooting Under Fire: The World of the War Photographer" by Peter Howe that I bought the book today. I very rarely ask my father for money or help or anything, but I asked if he could buy this book for me (afterall, he jumps at the chance to buy my sister all sorts of things whether she asks or not). He asked "what can you learn from that book that you don't already know? that war is ugly?" So he wouldn't buy it. I didn't expect him to be willing since he usually makes me feel guilty about paying for anything for me, and I would've (and did) buy the book either way since I think it is worth the $35. But still, I was annoyed by his reaction to the book, his continual reluctance to help me, and the double standard he has when dealing with my sister. I don't know what his hang up is. It's probably because he wants me to do something with my life not related to photography. Amie told me to "lighten up" sometimes. Well, it's not easy to lighten up when I'm surrounded by uptight people who either 1)don't care about any of the things I'm doing or intend to do or 2)don't care about what I'm doing currently and want me to do something more "acceptable" or lucrative or 3)are just plain assholes. And that's just my family. Ah, the sweet smell of cigarette smoke is wafting upstairs and into my room. Just what I could use. It's always great to be home.........