Striking Close to Home

Whelp, I survived the final week of the semester. I think everything went a bit better than expected.

But something happened that kinda struck me. Last week I talked about the disconnect between what I thought of communism versus the experiences of those that have lived it. On Tuesday, this hit pretty close to home. Look at this:

First off, it certainly isn't mine. It belongs to a Chinese exchange student we'll call Allie. She drew this image of Liu Xiaobo, for the final Illustration assignment where we had to make a piece to accompany a news article. That brown/red palette and the flowing robes completely suck me in. But I digress.

Xiaobo is a Chinese citizen who was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. This was against the wishes of the government, who threw him in jail and prevented his relatives/friends from accepting the award on his behalf. Allie created this piece to accompany the commentary on this controversial story, and decided to post it on her blog to show all of her friends and family. She didn't even use tags or a description, but the Chinese government found the image and banned/deleted her entire blog. I don't have all of the exact details, but this is what I happen to understand of the situation.

Now I don't know if you've noticed, but I like my blog. It's one of my most effective means of catharsis, and I enjoy documenting all my useless thoughts and opinions to come back and review years/months down the road. I would be absolutely devastated if I were to lose everything I've accumulated so far. So in between that and belief that no one should have their ideas silenced, I did the only thing I could - I asked her permission to host the image. Somewhere, I hope, that the Chinese government wouldn't have control over. I certainly hope that's the case - I'd be equally anguished if I lost my images and their descriptions.

I find it a bit alarming and amusing by the 'stance' I've taken against oppression. Some people protest and risk life and limb to get a message across. I just put a picture on the internet, but I still think it's some kind of big deal. Really, it isn't. I haven't done anything noteworthy. I can't say that I'd go and picket or actively fight such a regime. But here I am, doing whatever it is I do from the comfort of my computer chair.

Anyways. Even the fact that I did something about it isn't my main point. I knew that China has a history of censorship and tight control over media. I knew that this kind of stuff happens all the time. But when it occurred right on my academic doorstep... It really made a connection. Especially the one week after I put down my thoughts about my views on the matter. It was like a ton of bricks that came out of nowhere. The world is, in fact, a scary place, and it's becoming rapidly apparent to me just how much I take for granted in day-to-day life.

I submitted the image to Reddit not too long ago. I wanted to spread it around - I wanted people to see what was trying to be suppressed, as a pathetic effort to strike back at a horrible regime. I expect one, maybe two dozen views. In the past 24hrs the image has received +33,000 views, and it keeps climbing. Maybe I'm still incredibly naive about these things, but part of me is incredibly worried that this might backfire and get Allie into even more trouble. It would be a stupid price to pay for my miserable attempt to make a worthless stand. So I sit here and I worry I've just doomed some perfectly nice and talented individual I barely know. It's all striking close to home, indeed. Too close, I think.
-Cril

If they should ask
Then maybe they'd
Tell me what I should say
True colors fly
In blue and black
Bruised silken sky
And burning flag
Colorscrash
Collide in blood shot eyes

If I could, you know I would
If I could, I would
Let it go

This desperation
Dislocation
Separation
Condemnation
Revelation
In temptation
Isolation
Desolation
Let it go

Scala and Kolacny Brothers - Bad

The Winds of Change Whisper in the Trees

Oh my. It's been a while. A long while. There's a fistful of things I want to talk about, but there's far too much material there to fit into the last half-hour or so before I need to get ready for tomorrow and call it a night. So tonight we're keeping it simple.

I'm sitting here pounding the keys away as a last minute resort to put off the next week. I'll have a project due every single day, except for Friday. There's so much to do, and here I am... Not doing it. Feelin' a bit fried, to be honest.

I've discovered the wonders of going in to school on Saturday to do homework. It's particularly easy now that I've discovered that there isn't a parking attendant for the campus lot that day, so it's nice to cut out that 10-20min walk on the weekend. But yeah, go in to school around 10, work to 9 or 10, and go home. There might be a grand total of five or six other people from my year of the program in the school. I'm normally at my usual desk, with two or three other people in the class with me. I get in, and work, work, work. I'm a lot more productive than when I stay home, where I tend to get distracted easily.

This last week I've been staying on campus until 9... every night. Class ends and I just stay at my desk and keep plugging. There's so much to do. But there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I'm not sure what kind of light - I know that once Friday afternoon rolls around I'll need to do shopping and cleaning and organizing. I haven't even begun to start preparing for Christmas. But my break is about two and a half weeks long, five of which I'll be spending at home. The rest... I'll be working, of course.

Did I mention that I buggered up my neck yesterday? Because I've let me hair grow out and I'm rather shaggy, it collects quite a bit of moisture in the shower. To try and get rid of some of this excess dihydrogen monoxide I figured it'd be a good idea to thrash my head around. So I threw up the horns and rocked my head up and down like a rock star, until something in my neck went 'pop'. It's a fine time to do it, too, when I have a MASSIVE project I need to do that involves getting up close and personal with some paper for the purpose of cutting itty-bitty pieces. It ain't so much fun, let alone with a finicky spinal column.

I've been tutoring a bit this semester, and it's been a really interesting experience. Sure, the paycheck is nice, but I really enjoy being able to help people. There's something to be said for guiding people along the right track. That is, when they WANT to be on the right track. Not like the student who comes in five days before the exam and informs me she's missed the last two weeks of classes. Or the other student who sends in essays for me to proof that are so grammatically... special... that I have a hard time understanding what they're trying to say at all. Two weeks ago, all the major papers were due. I think I spent more time doing other people's homework than my own. There was one night where I proofed two papers, and stayed up until midnight waiting for another, which I corrected and sent back. I ended wrapping things up around 1AM, which is a wee bit late for the likes of me.

The real eye-opener, though, was working with some of the international students. There's one girl who is so sweet, but she's incredibly uptight. And another that writes such great essays that I question why she comes in at all. And a very old Asian lady that is so obviously far out of practice for academic assignments. The interesting thing here, however, is that this old lady is/was taking a Humanities course that focuses on great thinkers (Plato, Martin Luther King Jr, Rousseau, etc), and had to write a paper about Karl Marx's theories. She grew up in Hong Kong, and had such an overwhelming passion and bias against the man. Calling him a murderer, psychopath, etc. It was a challenge to keep that paper 'formally' written. But just that intense point of view really made me stop and think. To me, communism is an intriguing ideal and Marx was a philosopher who was perplexed with the problem of how to provide for the working class. To this old lady, communism was all about control and abuse of power, and Karl Marx had never contributed anything worth while to humanity. It really made me realize how easy it is to be an arm-chair thinker and end up coming to drastically different opinions from the people who actually live the topic you're analyzing.

I've been trying to expand my Christmas music collection this year, so I did a bit of downloadin'. MAN, there are a bunch of craptacular holiday covers. I'm bombing through loads of music and indiscriminately deleting songs without even listening to them all the way through. All of this was kind of spurred on by trying to find a decent version of When a Child is Born. There's something about that faintly melancholy melody. But you see, this song is plagued by one or both of two problems - crappy, wavering/flourishy vocals and the stupid monologue in the middle (I loathe monologues in the middle of songs). I have versions with one of the problems, and I have versions with both of the problems. If you know of an un-craptacular rendition, let me know.
-Cril

It's all a dream, an illusion now.
It must come true sometime soon somehow
All across the land dawns a brand new morn
This comes to pass when a child is born

Judy Collins - When a Child is Born

Un crit terrible

I think I may have just experienced my worst crit, ever. The assignment was to create a King/Queen/Jack set of cards for a culture. I chose to do Stalinist Russia, and I figured my assignment went pretty well. So I get up and give a quick oral presentation, talking about the various features and actions I made. I didn't stumble or rush - I finished up and felt pretty good.

And then crickets.

The prof asked, "comments, anyone?"

...

More crickets.

Finally a girl I sit near during class started to say something. YES! SAVED! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! Unfortunately, her comment pretty much consisted of 'it didn't really make sense until you explained it'. Ouch. I mean, she said it nicer than that and I think she was doing her best to throw me a line, but still.

Oh well, the gates are open for more comments and maybe some positive feedback, right?

...

MORE CRICKETS.

Finally, the prof said that I screwed up my hierarchy system and had a few flaws in my colour scheme. My crit was over and I sat down, just glad to not be standing in front of a silent class.

I managed to get an alright grade on the assignment, but just to make things that much more fantastic, all the projects except for mine and three or four others were taken to be put on display. I mean, sure, I don't mind if it doesn't go up - it wasn't perfect. But the fact that I was clearly in the bottom 20% of the class wasn't too pleasant.

So, yeah. That sucked.
-Cril

But your thoughts will soon be wandering
The way they always do
When you're ridin' sixteen hours
And there's nothin' much to do
And you don't feel much like ridin',
You just wish the trip was through

Here I am
On the road again
There I am
Up on the stage
Here I go
Playin' star again
There I go
Turn the page

Well you walk into a restaurant,
Strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you
As you're shakin' off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you
But you just want to explode

Metallica - Turn the Page

An illusion caused by the world spinning 'round

Where I live, I park in a spot that belongs to someone else. For $20/month, an old lady one complex over lets me use it, because a) she doesn't drive, and b) it ain't that smart to drive a 15 year old car around in Calgary winter when you can't plug in the block heater. That, and it lets me park right by our place, so it works out.

So, like at the beginning of every month, I come by this old lady's house and drop off a $20. I think she has some bad hearing - her TV is always on really loud, and it usually takes two or three knocks before she comes to the door. She's old and frail and has gray hair, but she's sweet. Always has something to chat about. This month, she wished me a happy Thanksgiving. I returned the compliment, and asked if she had any plans. She said she didn't - her husband had died some time ago. They were both peacekeepers with the UN, you know. He was a field medic. I told her I was sorry to hear he had passed, but to have a great Thanksgiving all the same. She told me to enjoy mine too, and pass the wishes on to my wife.

It occurred to me as I was leaving that if her husband was dead and she didn't have any plans, then she probably didn't have any children/relatives/friends to spend the day with either. Sure, as much as I wish I did, I do not, in fact, have a wife to share such a holiday with. But all of the sudden I was that much more grateful that I could call the family I can't be with and spend a few hours in the company of other relatives I have within the city. But what about the old lady I pay parking money to?

"Happy" Thanksgiving, everyone.
-Cril

Do you realize
That you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize
We're floating in space?
Do you realize
That happiness makes you cry?
Do you realize
That everyone you know someday will die?

Flaming Lips - Do You Realize?

Week[/end]

At the beginning of a weekend, as you stroll away from campus, you find yourself thinking, "I have two days ahead of me before I go back to class. The possibilities are endless."

I'm here to let you know that the possibilities, are not in fact endless.

I thought I'd get through all my homework with a bit of time to spare, so I could kick back and enjoy myself for an hour or two. Alas, 'twas not meant to be. I can't believe the weekend is simply gone. Where did it go? Do I really have anything to show for it? Ugh, how frusterating. This thing kinda scares me, actually, because I don't have any other buffer. Last year I could skip out on work if I needed to, but now... The weekend is everything I've got.

Figure 1: This is precisely the kind of thing I didn't do with my weekend.

It just sucks so much to feel so optimistic, and then a mere ~48 hours later be exhausted and feeling so defeated. I thought that weekends were supposed to have the opposite effect. I guess not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to squeeze another two hours of work out of this dried, shriveled up two-day break before I call it a night. Bleh.
-Chris.

Paul Crossley - Suite Bergamasque - Clair de Lune

Chuggin'

I think I've done it. I've completed all of the four projects due this week over the course of the last three days. Well, almost. I have a few secondary/trivial things to wrap up, but the majority of the hardcore work is completed. I'd say that it's a nice feeling, but the weekend is over and by the time tomorrow afternoon rolls around I'll have another project to work on. And I have a bajillion other things I should be doing inbetween. Blargh.

Aaaand I'm not sure what else to say, really. If this week will be par for the course in terms of workload, I think I'll be in decent shape for the rest of the year. I can handle this. Probably.

You know, it's a bit nerve wracking. I have four projects due this week, and I had my first crit last week. So THIS WEEK I'll find out how well I'm doing. I have all new instructors except for one, and even then now that I'm in the VC program I'm wondering if the marking criteria will be even tougher. I'll be finding out soon enough.

I'm house-sitting at the moment, so I'm not at my home machine where my CT-024 images are kept. Thus, I can't upload a new pic for the series this weekend. Bummer. This will have to do - the result of my first due assingment. It's from Typography class, where we were assigned a word and had to show the meaning of it by writing out the word with objects in an environment. I was given 'emphasis':



Not entirely pleased with how it came out. I find the dark bar along the bottom (the floor) to be rather distracting. Also, once you print it out and step back more than three feet, you can't tell any passages have been highlighted. This is a bad thing to discover thirty seconds after you put it up on the wall for crit. I coulda/shoulda beefed it up in Photoshop. Well, I actually did. But not enough, apparently. Oh well, I think the composition and concept are pretty solid. We'll see where the marks land.

...sorry folks, that's all I got for this week. It's been nothing but sex, drugs, and homework. Minus the first two parts. What a glamorous life I lead.
-Chris.

Count Basie - How Long Blues

Now the rain's a-fallin'

So I mentioned last year that the ratio of gals to dudes in art school was something like 3:1, right? Well, in the Visual Communications program, I think that figure may be closer to 5:1. Don't know why. But each class is made of ~20 students, and most of the time it's just me and one other guy. Sometimes there's one or two more. Apparently there are more gals than guys enrolling in post-secondary as is, but I get the feeling that art school, particularly the program and class I'm a part of, is a little bit more estrogen-heavy than other Name Brand Institutions.

Well, alright then. I mean, it's a bit awkward being on of the only ~10 guys in my entire class/grade/program, but that's okay. I'll get to observe and bask in a classroom culture dominated by the fairer sex. I'll witness first-hand several relationships and social circumstances generated by the kinder, and more patient and wise gender. Who knows, with those odds I might even be able to find a girl who's dense enough to be interested in the likes of yours-truly.

So I was sitting there in class, pondering this very topic, when I overhear a conversation taking place behind me. Some girl pipes up, "I don't, like, really want to, like, get married or anything. As long as I get a boyfriend who will take me places and buy me diamonds, I'll be happy."

For reals. She was absolutely serious. Either that, or I cannot read the wimminz at all. Stay classy, ladies.
-Cril

My mama done tol' me
When I was in knee-pants
My mama done tol' me, Son
A woman'll sweet talk
And give ya the big eye
But when the sweet talkin's done
A woman's a two-face
A worrisome thing who'll leave ya to sing the blues
In the night

Sergio Vellatti - Blues in the Night

Triumphantless Return

I just survived the first three days of classes, and, uh... It was easier than expected, to tell the truth. But this, folks, is what we call "a false sense of security". I'm sure it'll go all to hell very shortly.

In a nutshell, I did well with the in-class stuff, and had all my homework completed by late Saturday. I feel, dare I say, on top of things. Still, this will be my first full week and I'm sure it'll be a lot more intense than what I've done so far. To assume that the rest of the year will be similar to the first three days is a stupid assumption to make. And yet I want to believe it so badly...

It was subtle, but I've made a shift into 'school' mode. I was digging through some laundry in my room the other evening, when I realized that my world had gone two shades grayer. And I'm not talking about dust, either. It's that mentality where you're not quite seeing the world at hand, because you know there are more important things you need to be concentrating on. I've also noticed that, almost overnight, I've become incompetent at multiplayer video games. I just can't stack up against anyone else in the server - instead of being in the top ~5 spots on the scoreboard, I'm in the lower 5. Can't aim fast enough to get off the shots. Not thinking and moving tactically. And I was fine last weekend, even. It's like a switch - all of the sudden I'm just not feelin' it. I've discovered that letting my mind idle is a stressful thing to do. I get super worked up, as pick up speed circling the drain on my way to being totally overwhelmed. I worry about class A then B then C, then the car, then class D, then finances, then class E... It's a slippery slope. Uncomfortably slick.

It doesn't help that one of the first things the professors told us upon returning was proper nutrition for pulling an all-nighter. Eat once an hour, carbs and proteins, no sugar/sweets and no energy drinks. Yeah, that's exactly what I wanted to hear. Oh, that familiar sinking feeling. Just when I thought "Okay, maybe I can do this..." everything gets called into question. I don't operate well on a lack of sleep. And maybe it's all an intimidation thing, but still. It doesn't help.

I secretly wish I didn't have a large portion of this weekend "off". I feel so unproductive, and everything I've done with my time feels so unsatisfactory. Maybe I should've gone in to work. That'd be a bit of a challenge - my desk/computer has already been cannibalized for other employees. Oh well, so it goes.

I'm tired. There were other things I wanted to say, I think, but I can't recall them. Maybe that's just school working on my brain, making me feel all sorts of scrambled.

My room mates started watching The 4400 the other day, and I watched the pilot episode with them. Man, that was a good show. I wish I could watch it again too.

Bleh. I'm feelin' so... Unsettled.
-Cril

Ronald Jenkees - Stay Crunchy

Beaten and Blown by the Wind

I had a discussion with my younger (~7 year old) cousin a little ways back. I forget what exactly started it off - I think we were discussing the car on my desktop wallpaper - a Porsche 911 Turbo S - and I mentioned to him "A lot of race cars have engines in the back, behind where you sit". He noted that my car is front engined, saying "But you have a race car!" I chuckled and replied "Well, most of the super cool race cars have their engines in the back." I wasn't expecting his response - "But you're super cool!"

Hah. The kind of an observation that can only be the product from the mind of a small child. I miss those simple times, the basic "if x then y" logic that was so obvious and unquestionable. Not having to worry about working overtime to pay for school or where you're going to park your fancy-schmancy super-cool 15 year-old Acura "sports car". Heh.

This week I discovered a thing called TSD Rallying (Time Speed Distance), where the objective is to be as close as you can to maintaining an average speed in between different stages. These take place on paved and dirt roads, over a total course length of 100-700 kilometers. Cars are staggered by one minute, so you'll seldom come in direct contact with another driver. The best part? After paying the $70 registration fee, any road-legal car can participate. A quick look through some online classifieds show that there are fistfuls of Cavaliers and Neons that can be had for around $500. Feels like a rather reasonable/cheap investment considering it'd be the easiest way to get into freaking rally driving. It's the kind of thing that's so approachable and easy to get into. I really wish I had known about it earlier, particularly before starting school. I spent so many years working and going home to spend my time gaming or drawing or browsing the internet. Not necessarily bad things... But they certainly pale in comparison to what I could have been doing once a month or so with an old beat-up car. Maybe next summer. If not, I will be doing it three to four years from now.

I slept in this morning. I didn't even set the alarm. It's probably the first time I've intentionally done so... In a while. I even took Saturday off - I did it once for the long August weekend, but aside from that I simply can't recall the last Saturday I didn't go to work or spend the whole day on school assignments. Christmas break, probably.

Why am I slacking off right before the start of school? I'm tired. In the bones. But I came on this realization when I got my paystub for August. Turns out that over the past two months I've logged 120+ hours of overtime at work. Not bad, I guess. Three weeks of full-time work accumulated within eight. I'm sure I could turn that into some sort of clever ratio or percentage, but I'd rather not like to know. On one hand it's a relief - it'll probably pay for three months of rent. On the other hand... I feel like I've wasted away a big chunk of my summer. I could've done more. I should've done more. Being the summer, I got a pretty sorry case of the lazies. Hopefully I can jump back on the horse in short order. Well, I'm not going to have a choice in the matter.

But now the clock winds down. I have little time left in my summer, and I've tried to make the most of it. Watched some movies, played some games with friends. The last thing on my bucket list is to do some laser engraving, watch one last movie, and play my sax/ocarina. I'm not convinced I'll be able to get to all of them, especially considering classes start on Wednesday, I work tomorrow, need to get my supplies ready, the movie is 3hrs long, and... I'm all sorts of stressed out. Bleh.

Of course, I say this like there won't be any time or opportunity to do these things while I'm actually in school. Which, unfortunately, is most likely the case. I desperately want to convince myself that the second year will, of course, be much better than the first. It's not a crazy notion to hope that things will get better, right? Well, any which way I look at it I don't think it'll add up that way. I won't be working, sure. But there'll be even more hours in class and more homework. I've done the math over and over, skewed it this way and that, and I can't find a way to manipulate it to look encouraging. At best, it'll be a repeat of last year (except for a more rapidly draining back account, due to not being able to work). At worst... I dunno. Last year was rough. I dunno how it could get worse. During the first year, we had a bunch of presentations by senior year students, and they all said that second year was the toughest. Go figure.

But there are good things about school to grasp like straws and cling to, right? There are some decent people it'd be nice to see again. There's a lot of incredible talent and amazing artwork to behold. One of the great things about art school is that you can't take anything for granted. Nothing is strange. Well, let me rephrase that - there are plenty of weird things that come out of that school. But if you see something that feels out of the ordinary - some peculiar graffiti or an odd arrangement of litter - you can't take it at face value, because it might be "art".

At the end of one day, I was leaving class and walking through the main mall to head out to the parking lot. Littered across part of the floor was a field of popcorn. Sure, you'd think it was garbage, that someone had dropped a container of everyone's favourite buttered snack. But no, at art school you can't make such assumptions. I stood and watched for a few minutes while other students, trying to leave campus, carefully tip-toed through the mess. Not a kernel was disturbed, less a delicate or intentional pattern would be upset. It was funny. Before long, it was my turn and I did the same. I have no idea if I was being watched, or if it was an art project or not. This kind of a thing is a regular occurrence by now. Something that I'm used to, something that I don't really bat an eye at. But it's still an amusing notion, when something you'd expect to be unusual is just ordinary, and vice versa.

My sleep has been... Agitated lately. Just like being awake. A bundle of nerves, a bundle of nerves. A perpetual state of uneasiness. I'm being tortured by the butterflies inside me. I woke up early Saturday morning - forfeiting whatever precious rest I may or may have not gained by sleeping in - to watch the sun rise. So I got in my super cool sports car and drove to a park - one that's practically comprised of a single, bumpy, rolling hill. I walked to the top, stood in the (surprisingly warm) early morning breeze, and took a few shots. I brought along my iPod and headphones, but oddly enough they stayed around my neck. I just kinda took it in. Listened to the wind in the grass, the birds, and the waves of traffic pulsing by the road below. It was nice. A peculiar, isolated moment of peace.

Anyways, the movie I've been watching while writing this has drawn to a close. Just like my summer. I'll survive the next eight months, right? There's TSD rallying on the other side to look forward to. Three more years. Three more years.
-Cril

I want to run
I want to hide
I want to tear down the walls
That hold me inside
I want to reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name

I want to feel sunlight on my face
I see the dust cloud disappear without a trace
I want to take shelter from the poison rain
Where the streets have no name

Derek Webb - Where the Streets Have No Name

Five Years is a Long Time

On Thursday at work we needed to make sensor springs for a certain product. Basically, you take a crap load of gold (colour) wire, spin it a million dimes around a drum, and then cut down them all off, so you have a many wires of a determined length. Then you take this old teal wireless screwdriver, put a special shaft on it with an opening, insert a wire into the hole, bend it over, and spring the whole thing around the shaft until you have a spring that's 1/4inch long. The trick is to get each wrap to be flush with the one before it, so that there aren't any gaps. Anyways, I'm one of the only people in the company who knows how to do it, and I got through a hundred or so of these things before The Powers At Be got one of the junior staff to take over. He'd never done it before, but he's a pretty smart guy and fairly mechanically inclined. So I showed him how it was done, and then handed the drill over while he sat at my desk and I chugged away at whatever it was I was working on. The next half-hour was full of him muttering "crap", "f*ck", "sh*t", with the odd "is this good enough?" to break things up.

I thought about when I was the one that learning how to make those cursed springs. It was actually the very first task I did on my first day of work. I don't remember much about the first few weeks - it's all kinda hazy, and full of half-memories. But I recall making those springs. Cursing - not in such a vulgar matter, mind you - and throwing fistfuls of screwed up sensor springs into the garbage.

It's getting pretty darn close to the five-year mark since that happened. I graduated in June and worked part-time at a mini golf/miniature train theme park outside of a major tourist trap near where I lived. Towards the end of the summer I had my heart crushed into itty-bitty pieces, and took a couple weeks off (now that I'd lost my job at the tourist joint, as it closes for the fall/winter). I remember bumming around home a lot. I remember long walks in the cool autumn air, and sitting at the computer occupying myself with... I can't remember what game. Probably Counter-Strike Source, Day of Defeat Source, Battlefield 2, or a concoction of all three. Concoction. What a weird looking word.

Anyways, the weeks rolled by and I applied for work here and there with no luck. I got my first car, purchased with a loan from my parents - a red 1986 CRX Si, with standard transmission. Which I didn't know how to operate. I got a job as a vacuum salesman, believe it or not, where I learned how to drive stick under fire. Including the commute, my day went from 6AM to 10PM. Two weeks went by where I realized that the job wasn't quite as elegant/lucrative/easy as the three-day training had made it out to be. I was making a late appointment in a nice neighborhood at 8/9PM - my last of the day. It was raining, and I was standing there with a vacuum in one hand and a kit of necessary props for making the pitch in the other. I was tired and wet, and I'd been spending more time in my car than actually talking to people. I rang the doorbell and put on a smile. A mid age couple answered, I could see some kids in the back of the house. They didn't want to see the demo, of course - not even the free gift (kitchen knives! Wow!) would get me in the door. But rather than the cold, yet polite, refusal, they talked to me for a bit. About... Me. Who I was, what my plans were. I said I wasn't sure what my goals are, but I'm working towards saving for school. Then something weird happened. They told me to go home. They said I could do better than hawking vacuums all day. Maybe they knew or recognized something I didn't know was there. Or maybe they just knew how to screw with a fatigued and naive kid, in a soaking dress shirt under the late-night glow of a porch light with rain pattering all around. I quit the next day. I mean, yeah, I knew the job wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, but that event pushed me over the edge and give me the courage to make the jump. I meant to send that couple in the nice house a card or letter of some sort, but I never did.

I made about $250 with that job, a gross fortune less than the hours or effort I put into it. I went and got a job with a large telephone computer-support center in town. Everyone knows about it, and no one wants to work there unless they really have to. I got the job (they were hiring ANYONE), at a whopping $10/hr. I was thrilled. I went through training for two weeks with a collection of pretty good people. I wasn't particularly thrilled by it, but I figured I'd manage. The one or two calls I did live scared the crap out of me, though. It came down to the last week of training, and my mom said that my uncle was looking for someone to come do basic labour at his business in the next province over. Sure, I wasn't too comfortable with my current job, but I wasn't sure if I hated it enough to pick up and leave home just yet. So I sweated over it for a few days and decided a change of location might work out for the better.

To tell the truth, this was largely fueled by the desire to pick up and get as far away as I could from She Who Broke Hearts. So a day before I graduated from training, I quit. I left my second job in as many weeks. Before I even finished training, no less. I felt like a scumbag. But I rolled with it. Said my goodbyes, packed up my computer, and hopped on a Greyhound Bus. I ended up winding sensor springs less than 24hrs later.

So I worked and saved. Assembled kits and products, swept floors. A few months later I learned my CRX bit the dust - there was unrepairable rust on the frame that made the car undrivable. I felt bad because a) My first car had been a failure and b) I ended up stiffing my folks who said they'd hand the car payments. At work I moved up to doing some graphic design - something I'd dabbled with in high school. Did the odd graphic here and there, taking a bit of the load off of the boss. Started doing it more and more, eventually I was doing the creative and rendering for print advertisements and doing product photography. I had a $1000 bursary from graduating which expired within a year. I sent a letter in and got an extension. The next year I bought a grey 1996 Civic CX and moved back home. Hauled everything I owned with my over the Rockies in my lil' Honda. I used up the bursary (and a good chunk of my own change) to take some general studies for two semesters. A bit of business, music, graphic design, and communication theory. I'm not sure if any of it ever became useful. I look back on that year, spending the time not in school by bumming around the house, as a waste of time. I got so little accomplished and spent so much money. I'm not sure what came out of it.

Then I went back to my uncle's business for the summer, intent on going back to school to take... something. But the end of the summer rolled around and I stayed. For a year or two. Moved out of my uncle/aunts house, and in with some co-workers and friends. Applied at art school, got accepted, and was freaked out. Bought a green 1997 Integra without taking my time to really think about it, ending up with a car with a fistful of reliability problems. Did my first year of studies, and worked harder than I ever have in my life. Learned how to throw away all sorts of personal interests for the sake of being productive, even though I wasn't having a whole lot of fun. Finished the first year, applied for the Bachelor of Design program so I could pursue Graphic Design, got accepted, and got freaked out. Three more years of hard work ahead of me, apparently. Worked 50-60hrs/week during the summer between years one and two, where I sat at a desk typing while a 19-year-old straight out of high school is cursing at the little gold wires that contort themselves around a teal cordless drill.

Looking back, that rainy evening by porch light seems like a lifetime and a half ago. Five years. Five years. But at the same time, it can't be that long. How can that much time pass by so quickly?

This summer we had a family reunion. Lots of grey faces I don't recognize. My grandmother is moving out of the family home, though. They're going to sell the house my father grew up in, which will probably be bulldozed along with the meticulously kept garden in the back yard. People are getting old. My parents are getting old. And that means I am too, which freaks me out more than a little. Look at me, I work overtime and renew my car registration and plan out my second year of education. I'm not 15 or 16 or 17 any more, and I never will be again. Time is such a brutal, relentless beast.

It makes me wonder what I have to show for it. My musical/instrumental skills, something I used to cherish and practice so intensely, have gone all to hell. Same as the relationships with the people I went to elementary/high school with for 9 years. But I can kinda draw now. I can build a computer from scratch, and replace a dead car battery. I know how to use selective colour in Photoshop to balance out the inherent magenta hue from the florescent photo table. I can use writing to be long-winded and cathartic. I can work 80hrs a week for 15 consecutive weeks. I can... Flawlessly wind hundreds of sensor springs without screwing up a single one.

Is that it? Is that all I've got to show for myself for 1/15th of my life expectancy? And me, here, now. Is this the best I can do for being 1/3 of the way through my existence? Where are all the glorious adventures and exciting experiences and all-around awesome things I expected to be doing by now?



Looking back at me of five years prior, it's so easy to point out how dumb and clueless I was. It's harder to admit, though, how dumb and clueless I still am. Especially over the last year or so it's become obvious how little of the world I can see and understand, even comprehend. It's like I'm wearing horse blinders or something. Walking around in a fog. Driving a 20-year-old Honda around in the dark and rain, straining to see the unfamiliar road ahead through the streaks left by old and decrepit windshield wipers.

It's a crappy realization to stumble upon. One part disheartening, two parts frightening. I'm a male in his mid-twenties. Shouldn't I be on top of the world, having all sorts of adventures, conquering whatever gets in my way and forming a foundation for a happy future? Foundations need terrain to excavated before they can be laid down. Some days it feels like I'm just diggin'.

There's still lots of time to have adventures, right? So what, maybe I'm pissing away what many consider to be the best time of a person's life. I still have the majority of my life ahead of me, and I can turn things around and make things alright. The world will keep rolling, so maybe I should roll with it and take things as they come. Maybe things will get better. Maybe they won't. Maybe I just oughtta shut my trap and keep on keepin' on.
-Cril

The pages of the calendar
Are flyin' off faster as I get old
And if I had a second take
I'd wanna make the same mistakes
Except for the clothes

And the part about the one that got away
When I was blind I fell behind
And here I've gotta stay

And I'm lying here wonderin'
Is it finally sinkin' in
To my weary heart, my foolish pride
And my stubborn head

I woke up on the right side, I woke up on the right side
On the right side of the wrong bed

Smash Mouth - Right Side, Wrong Bed

Cruising Altitude - Games and Such

And now, a break from your regularly-scheduled angst/anxiety-ridden blog posts.

One of the great things about being a video game enthusiast is that the medium still in a period of rapid growth. I hesitate to say infancy - it's certainly come a long way from even five years ago, but there's still an unbelievable amount of potential to unlock and distance to travel. But witnessing the strides this form of entertainment makes can be so engrossing and rewarding. Every once in a while, you can't help but say "WOW!" And I'm not talking about some lame old MMO, either. Moments where, if you hadn't been sitting down (as you tend to be for playing games), you'd be knocked clean off your feet. It's not where you think to yourself, "Huh, that's pretty neat" and move on. It happens when you legitimately have a hard time believing what just transpired in front of your eyes as a result of a finely-crafted experience and the direct input of you, the player. It's a rather rare sensation, but for me at least, it comes along infinitely more often than I find in literature or cinema. I think it has to do with the immersion created by the constant input and focus needed to partake in games. But the whole books vs. movies vs games topic is it's own beast. My point is that there are moments in my digital adventures and travels that I stumble on something that truly amazes me - as a credit to fine craftsmanship and/or technological developments.

Earlier in the year I stumbled across Wings of Prey - a great WWII combat flight sim. Because of my deep-routed addiction to all things WWII (particularly pertaining to the aircraft of the time), I quickly fell in love with the game. While I really wanted a sequel to Jane's WWII Fighters (a title I was particularly smitten with while in high school), Wings of Prey turned out to be fantastic. Sure, the DRM is garbage and it sucks that I needed a separate gaming e-commerce service in addition to Steam installed to run it rather sucked - I wish I would've researched it before the purchase. But aside from that? What a gorgeous game, with solid mechanics, and, most importantly, a great selection of planes that are meticulously detailed. Anyways, on to the point.

The Eastern European theater, 1944, flying a night mission for the Soviets in a Ilyushin Il-2. Me and my squad started off quite a ways from the hot zone, so on the way I took the leisurely time to climb up to about 15,000 feet before leveling out. Set course, and cruised for a while at around 300KM/H. It was dark and overcast - the odd snowflake drifted by, illuminated by the partial light cast from an obscured moon. Engine thrumming along. Hypnotic. Relaxing, even. Then 1-2-3 - beams of light are cast up vertically from the ground. 5-6-7, they keep appearing. "That's pretty neat," I think. I watch the search lights comb around the sky, darting this way and that. I'm so high up I can't even begin to see the ground below around the nose of the plane, so I roll over to see if I can spot where the beams are coming from. And just like that, FWOOSH! The cockpit is absolutely bathed in light. I'm totally blinded and can't make out anything on the dash while the projected shadows from the canopy supports move across the interior. "Wow, just wow." So, like an idiot, I take a second to let it all in - the dynamic lighting and small details, like how the light makes the tiny scratches and grime on the windshield so obvious. And then the flak starts. At first it's an odd pop here and there - I roll over to see what's going on, and watch the explosions burst against the dark sky. Pops turn to thuds as the AA fire is closing in. Looking out to starboard, I can see that my wing and fuselage is making a massive cast silhouette against the search light that is still following me. "Well, that'd explain the flak." Pitch the nose down and punch the throttle. I dive for a few seconds and then level out. The searchlight is frantically tracing it's way to my current position, being anticipated with aggressive flak closing in. One more bursts right ahead - the plane rocks, the side of my canopy is scarred, and there seems to be a smoking at the base of the right wing. Ok, enough screwing around. Lord only knows where the rest of the flight is, but I put the nose down, all the way down, and punch the engine into WEP. I go hard. I'm pressing 400KM/H before I know it, and the altimeter looks like it's having a spasm as the number it displays starts to shrink. 470KM/H, 11,000 feet. Keep going. 550KM/H, 8000 feet. The wind is screaming around the torn up metal of the wing. 680KM/H, 6000 feet. The whole plane is starting to shudder and vibrate. Acceleration is dropping as I get closer to my terminal velocity. I don't want to find out how fast that is. Wrench back on the stick and cut the throttle. The plane growns, and I keep pulling back. I finally level out around 2000 feet, and I'm slowing down to cruising speed. I look around and there's nothing but black. The lights are gone, along with any bearing on where my squad is. All I see are vague, morphing silhouettes from the scattered moonlight. Wow. Just, wow.

The rest of the mission was slightly less remarkable, but good nonetheless. The clouds parted, and there was a dogfight with planes against a full moon. Part of it was a rodeo to shoot down German transport planes before they reach their landing strip. It can be tough hunting in the dark, but when the moonlight reflects off the shiny metal wings your position is immediately broadcast.

After that initial waltz with the searchlight and flak I realized I was clenching my teeth. Man, that was good - and intense - stuff. It was hard to realize I had witnessed all that from home, sitting in a desk chair.



The next 'wow' moment happened in Battlefield Bad Company 2. A quick word about the game - the single player campaign was decent, but fairly unremarkable. It was trying WAY to hard to be Modern Warfare. Some of the characters, while a bit cliche, were pretty amusing though. The multiplayer, is well balanced, and I mean tight experience. I think it's the best multiplayer experience I've had since Team Fortress 2. I'd take it any day of the week over CoD multiplayer, which seems like a mediocre deathmatch in comparison. Anways, on with the show.

I had been playing off an on for a month, logging in maybe two or three hours every other week as I could squeeze them in around homework. Anyways, I was playing with a friend, and we were defending this barnhouse come hell or high water. Nothing could shake us loose. At one point the other team changes tactics, and they start to divert, perpendicular to our location, across to an alternate objective. I was in the loft/attack with my assault rifle, and I was taking quick pot-shots out of this small window that was positioned just high enough to be uncomfortable, restricting my line of fire. The terrain outside was hilly with lots of brush - I didn't want to go down a floor and lose my vantage point. If only I could make that window a tad bit larger... Well, duh. So I stepped back to the opposite corner of the room, took out my grenade launcher, and blew myself a gigantic hole where that old, tiny window was. PROBLEM FIXED. Of course, along with this (now unrestricted) view at an ideal vantage point came the problem of being more exposed to incoming fire. But I made do with my handiwork, and I was able to mop up a squad or two that was crossing the battlefield.

My wow moment occurred right when I walked up to the gaping hole in the wall I had just put there seconds earlier. Sure, the game looks good - the explosion was purdy, what with debris and smoke and all. But I distinctly remember thinking to myself, "This changes EVERYTHING!". Think of it in terms of gameplay. Previously video game environments had been immovable, static obstacles. And manipulation of this was either carefully planned cinematic events or rather gimmicky mechanics for expanding a line of sight. Now, though, the player can (in a way) tailor the environment to suit his immediate tactical needs. And, of course, the ramifications are obvious. As soon as you make that hole and use it, you've immediately traded off line of sight for protected cover. It's a most simplistic balance that makes it that much more effective as a multiplayer element. Prior to that, sure, I'd seen lots of environment mutilation in the game. I thought it was gorgeous. But there, in the loft, it clicked. As I stepped back to take the shot I thought to myself, "No, are you serious? This couldn't possibly work..." I don't know what else I could've expected - I knew quite well what a 40mm grenade launcher will do to the side of a house. But it wasn't until I fired and surveyed the damage that it really struck home what power this had to really change how the game is played. It's an axis of exploration I had no idea was plausible - I'd never really seen it done in a game before. But there it was, and it's like I could see this extra dimension to gameplay that was previously invisible.

Aside from Starcraft II, which while decent didn't have its own wow moment, the only other significant game I played this summer has been Assassin's Creed II. As a whole, I don't have a lot to report. I was a fan of the first title, and I found this one to be an incredible refinement on the formula. There weren't any huge eye-opening features, but it was such a fantastic evolvement of the series that just felt... Perfect. Well, like all games it has its faults, but overall it's a great title. Anyways, my wow moment came from recognizing my surroundings. As odd as that sounds.

I had an amazing professor for my first semester of Art History. She was incredibly enthusiastic and had the best asides and random anecdotes. She talked fast, painfully so as far as taking sufficient hand-written notes are concerned, but her class was so entertaining and engaging. She told a story of how she once went to Florence, and arrived at night exhausted and suffering from jet lag. They logged into a hotel, and went to bed. In the morning, she went to open the window, and right outside was this white statue against a blue background. It was part of a series that lined the entire building. She freaked out. This was some famous hospital/orphanage by some famous artist/architect of the proto-renaissance (what can I say, I'm a terrible art history student. I do great on the exams, but once they're over the information I've memorized vaporizes and is never heard from again).

So there I was, plugging away at Assassin's Creed II in Florence. I was on some assassination mission (as assassin's tend to do), and had just killed the target and was fighting off half a dozen guards. Then I realized, "Hey, those small white statues on blue backgrounds with the shuttered windows sure look familiar...WOW." It hit me that I've seen this place before. It's a real place. I've studied it. At some point I even know what it was called and who designed it. It blew my mind. It's the last thing you expect to find in a video game. Sure, some play tribute to real life locations, such as GTA and Liberty City/New York, but as a whole you grow accustomed to roaming around entirely fictitious environments. This faithfully recreated real-life location felt like a smack upside the head. One of the reasons I fell in love with the Assassin's Creed franchise is that, in addition to the engaging alternate/dystopian story, the games explored lesser-used settings. What's the last game you played that took place in Middle Ages Middle East or Renaissance Italy? But that moment where I realized I was battling and running around the rooftops of a faithful digital replica of an authentic real-world location kinda blew me away.

While not a game, the other noteworthy piece of entertainment I partook of this summer was seeing Iron Man 2. Kidding, that was total crap. Inception, on the other hand, was great. I don't know if I had the same kind of "WOW" moment, but I can say that by the end I was pretty amazed at what had just transpired. The same kind of effect I got from seeing The Matrix or Fight Club for the first time - you feel like the world has just been turned on its head, and you know you just witnessed something unique. The concept was cool, the score was fantastic, the action was well done, and the story was original. There wasn't one single thing that blew my mind into itty-bitty parts, but I was really engaged from start to end. It felt like I was holding my breath the whole time, the whole movie was so incredibly suspenseful. I found the dreams-within-dreams to be quite straight forward, but some of the mechanics involving the dreamer/architect seem a bit fuzzy. Whether or not "reality" is actually a dream is an intriguing notion, which was obviously implemented in such a way as to foster debate. Overall, it's the best movie I've seen this summer. Sorry Toy Story, you were really good too and gave me some funny allergies that resulted in some misty eyes and an odd lump in my throat. It's hard to compare the two movies. They have next to nothing in common. But Inception really left me feeling like I had just seen something really special.

The only other thing that comes to mind, entertainment-wise, is that I played through Left 4 Dead 2, which felt much like Assassin's Creed 2 in regards to the prequel. It's a finer, better tuned experience that feels more flushed out. No big "WOW" moments here (Valve, baby, you know I still loves you, right?), but it was a solid game. The bots can be kinda dumb ("WHY WON'T USE PICK UP THE MEDKIT?!") and I kinda like the cast of characters from the first one a bit more. Ellis is pretty good, though.

And with the summer coming to a close, I probably won't get to make my way through anything else for the next four months. I kinda wanted to try Mass Effect. I got it for cheap on Steam, but I don't have the time to play through a whole game before school starts, so I won't bother. I also tried Red Faction Guerrilla, which was optimized so poorly it was barely playable.

Hrm, this is pressing 2500 words. I should prolly call 'er quits. Please excuse the poor spelling/grammer. I've corrected quite a few, but I have the sneaking suspicion it isn't anywhere near enough.
-Cril

God is an Astronaut - Ascend to Oblivion

Sitting by the fire and watching it burn

And so it starts. The back-to-school pit in the stomach. More like a weight, if you ask me. But yeah - I'm at the two-and-a-half week mark to being back at school. Bleh, not looking to it forwards to it too much. Well, truth be told, I got in phases. "Yeah, I think this year will be alright." I won't be working on the side, so I should have time to make things happen. And "I'm not so sure about this... Can I do it?" Five studio courses. FIVE. Thirty hours of classes a week. Last year, a design studio had about 5-10hrs of homework for each class. And I won't be working. How am I going to get by? So many variables and IF equations, so few solutions or formulas. I was offered a peer tutoring position, which I kinda want to accept. It'll make me feel useful. But do I have time? How will I manage? Ugh.
/anxieties

My last week, entertainment-wise, has gone a bit like this. Play/finish Starcraft II (aliens vs marines), play a round of Alien Swarm (aliens vs marines), watch Aliens II (aliens vs marines and Sigourney Weaver). Lots of aliens and marines within a 72hr period. I don't really have a point to this, I just thought it was an interesting coincidence - something I hadn't planned at all.

So... Starcraft II... I'm simultaneously satisfied and let down. Good story, that's for sure. Great universe and plot events with intriguing characters. Cool visuals and art direction, solid gameplay. On the other hand, it's the same solid gameplay I've seen ten years ago with the first Starcraft. It's VERY similar. The script/dialogue is kinda... Weak. There's no finesse or subtlety - everything feels very deliberate and obvious so that the play knows what's going on. As for the climax and end of Wings of Liberty... I feel that some parts weren't quite fleshed out and I'm feeling a bit unsatisfied. But I want to know MORE. WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? Overall, I got lots of mixed feelings. As someone who's primarily in it for the single player campaign, I feel safe in saying that $60 doesn't quite feel appropriate for the experience. It's a good game, but not THAT good. Something is lacking. I suppose the multiplayer is supposed to be the big draw, but that ain't quite up my ally.

My laptop is acting kinda weird. When I boot it up, even before it hits Windows, I get a quick blue screen. Then it takes me to a screen where I can choose to analyze the issue or go straight to Windows. I analyze, and get absolutely nothing of use. It mentions that I should disconnect and new hardware I've added. Which is nothing. I wonder if it has anything to do with the hackintoshing. The only thing I can think of is that I had to enable hardware virtualization in the BIOS in order to install OSX. Bleh. I just don't know. I can't really bring myself to figure it out. I'm just so fatigued. I'm thinking I should maybe use the $900 I saved by not getting a Mac, and find a cheap-o used Macbook Pro in the classifieds that I can use for a semester or two before selling it. I just don't got a lot of fight left in me these days.



I finished up my ABC's. There might be a half-dozen letters I'm not quite happy with, but as a whole I think I produced some good stuff. If nothing else, it totally gave me enough fuel for drawing, period. It's amazing, after I finished the alphabet set, drawing became such a chore. I have such a tough time deciding on what to draw. But I did, eventually, finish my 100 sketches. Not that you can tell by looking at my Flickr feed - I have a bit of a backlog to upload. I need to stop being so lazy.

But, to my credit, I've had a productive couple weeks at work. I got through a big project on my own, that I anticipated would take much longer even with the help of some coworkers. But it's all done. And I bought some shoes and jeans yesterday too. Did I mention I hate shopping? Le sigh.

I'm done Starcraft II, and I'm not going to draw anymore past the 100 sketches, unless I feel particularly inclined. I think I'm entering the 'totally petrified of losing my mind' phase, and I'm pulling back a bit where I can. Two and a half weeks before it all goes to hell anyways. Why bother? Anyways, hopefully I can get some other odds figured out before the end of the summer. Need to figure out my laptop and parking, among other things. Upload the rest of the sketches. Play with the new camera. Play some music, write some more, go for a run, laser the laptop.

The time. She ticks.
-Cril

You break a few bones, you break a few nails
It's like you set me down when you set your sails
You send a few letters but they're never enough
It gets rough, every time you leave me alone

I don't do so good on my own
I need a telescope, not a telephone
Stray cat strutting through a snowy backyard
It gets hard, every time you pick up and go

Joel Plaskett - Every Time You Leave

Playin' with this bow and arrow

I just went for another run. I don't know why, but I did. And you know what? This exercise thing kinda works. My breathing and stamina were significantly better this time around than last week. It's rather surprising how much of an improvement there was, even considering I'm only out there for a half hour or so. Maybe there's something to this whole "getting in shape" thing you keep hearing about these days.

Summer is winding down, and it's like a weight on my shoulders. Pressing harder and harder with each day. So much to do. At work I'm in charge of merging content from one, larger website into an existing smaller one. It's straight forward - there are some bugs and hiccups along the way, but you learn to recognize and tiptoe around most of the pitfalls. The work itself is easy. But it's too easy. Incredibly monotonous and boring, even to the part where I find myself falling asleep. So I've found a secret weapon - WATCHING TV LOLOLOLOL. Once everyone leaves for the day and it's just me left, I put some Daily Show/Colbert Report on one monitor, and chug away. And I kid you not, it feels like my productivity jumps through the roof. It's probably one part keeping my brain stimulated/alert and one part working extra hard to offset the guilt of watching TV while I'm on the clock. But the last two or three days I've done this I've moved incredible amounts of data over. I can't believe how effective it is. It's keeping me distracted from the fact that I'm otherwise bored out of my mind or tired or overwhelmed by all the other crap I need to get done once I get home.

Speaking of which, I've knocked one thing off my list - hackintoshing my laptop. Just completed that today. It took me a good three or four hours, but most of that involved figuring out how VMWare ticks. If something is royally screwed up and I have the need to do it all over, I could probably accomplish it in under an hour. It's surprisingly simple. Mind you, I've used OSX for all of ten minutes. Enough to find out that my wifi works (yay!) but not my sound (boo!). There's probably a lot of other troubleshooting to do, and I'll need to install some standard Adobe programs to see if they work at all. But to be honest... I have zero interest in using it. I just couldn't care less - I have it installed, can I just forget that it's there?

Actually, this is the case for my whole laptop. I don't like it. Well, I do like it. It's a great unit, and I can't wait to laser it and put it to good use once I start school. But maybe it's the old grumpy man in me, but I don't like having a laptop. It's definitely a useful contraption, but... I like my computer. Two big screens, a proper keyboard and mouse, etc etc. I dunno. Just the concept of owning a laptop fails to excite me.

I'm in desperate need of new jeans and shoes. My shoes are being held together by no less than 4 different kinds of tape at the moment. But I cannot describe the absolute empty void for where my enthusiasm for shopping is stored. I can't even stand buying stuff online these days. So much crap is peddled to my face, so little of it I actually want. I don't care if it's for games or technology or toys or tools, there isn't a store I want to go to right now. I checked out the Lego store the other week, just because I've never seen one before. Neat place. The idea of going into a mall with the intent of spending money makes me want to vomit, however.

My brother is in the process of shopping for cars. I'm terrible at car shopping - I always do it in too much of a hurry. But I find it kinda fun. There are so many POSSIBILITIES. Sure, sifting through classifieds and different sites can be rather tedious, but there's something about entertaining the idea of a new car you stumble across. Opportunities investigated and passed, and opportunities seized that leave you wondering what if? Remind me, I should tell you about a certain BMW 325IS some time.

One of the only two air-worthy Avro Lancasters was in Calgary the other day. Its flightpath for landing at the airport was directly over the office. My word, what a gorgeous sight and soul-shaking sound. You see something like that, and you know that you just witnessed something special. Something you'll never forget. Such a beastly, yet elegant, image. Seeing something like that really alters the foundation of your being. It's the kind of thing best left to the poets and dreamers of the world to describe. But it certainly makes you wonder what it would've been like to see formations with hundreds of Lancasters flying overhead. The sound must've been incredible. And now there's only two left.



Anyways, that's all I got for now. I've actually completed all my ABC's, but I have quite the backlog to post to Flickr. I'm getting near the end of my goal for 100 sketches by the end of summer, but now that the alphabet project is done it feels like I've lost a lot of steam. How frusterating. I'm this close to not having to draw for the rest of the summer. And then I start again in three weeks. Yeehaw.
-Cril

From this time unchained
We're all lookin' at a different picture
Through this new frame of mind
A thousand flowers could bloom
Move over and give us some room, yea

Portishead - Glory Box

Demons for Every Day

I did something odd yesterday. I went for a jog. In the rain. During a thunderstorm. The weirdest part? I went for a jog. I can't say that I've ever gone for a run of my own accord - the last time I can recall doing such a thing was in Grade 11 for Physical Education class. Ah, bad memories. I wonder what brought me to do it all of the sudden. It felt good, in a hot, sweaty, twitching and sore muscles kinda way. Maybe I should do it again sometime, so I can pretend I'm not morbidly obese. I'm kidding about that last part, of course. It's so I can pretend I have some sort of muscular matter draped over my scrawny frame.

I'm standing in a precarious position at the moment. I'm stuck between trying to get more hours in at work so that don't go broke in the middle of school versus spending some time at home and trying to knock items off of an ever-growing list of To Do's. On one hand, I think that logging more time in at work and keeping my head down will make the transition back into school less jarring - I'll already be in crazy-go-nuts work mode. On the other hand, I'm worried I might end up stuck just with the crazy-go-nuts part. I'm feeling like I'm stretched out too far as is, and I'm worried if I'll crack sometime during the next five months. I can wait for Christmas, right? Even then, won't I want to take the Christmas break to get some work in? Where does the cycle end? Where does it begin, for that matter? I haven't worked a standard 40hr week since I was in the spring semester and doubling up work with classes. "The dog days of summer". Heh.



One of my goals for the summer is to complete 100 sketches. The sketch-a-day has gone all to hell, but this one thing is attainable and won't leave me feeling too guilty once the fall rolls around. Right now I'm up to sketch 78 - I have a bit of a backlog to upload to Flickr. Anyways, to help me stay focused and keep banging off those sketches I'm working on a series. THE ALPHABET! Of things I like, one for each letter. I just finished up P, and tomorrow I do Q. Which is a problem, because I have absolutely no idea what to use for that letter. I'll need to think on it tomorrow during work.

I stumbled upon an interesting article this week. The entire thing is a good read, but I found this particular quote of interest: "Perhaps, you only learned how to memorize names, places, and dates to later on forget in order to clear your mind for the next test." This articulated something that I really struggle with. I have managed to wire my brain for tests - I can soak up and recall a lot of accurate information in a short time span. After my exam is done, though, I lose 90% of it. Which is a bit of a bummer - I learned a lot of neat stuff in Art History over the last year. But I've retained very little of it. Just little snippets and half-ideas. It rather worries me. But now I know it isn't necessarily an abysmal memory, but just one that's rigged to work a certain way. Which is a shame.

So, I went to a family reunion last week. A few days before, my flew into town so we could hang out a bit and then drive down together. Except my car died. His flight just landed, so I locked up the office, got in the car, and.. Nothing. Several jump starts later (from my uncle), we went for dinner and then home. Trickle charged the battery over night, and in the morning... Nothing. Got a jump and drove to Canadian Tire. Bought a battery and a decent set of jumper cables (one of those things I should probably own), and went out to the dead automobile. Of course, my crappy little emergency kit had an imperial socket set and the car was metric. So back into the store to throw $50 down on a basic imperial AND metric set. Go out, replace the battery, and it works fine voila. I figured I hit two important milestones. First, the rite of passage for any motorist - I made a repair in a Canadian Tire parking lot. The second, is that I bought tools. Yes, that was my first time buying tools evar. I know, It's all sorts of pathetic considering how old I am and have never bought hand tools before. Anyways, some $200 later the car is fixed and made the road trip just fine. S'all good.

School starts in... Exactly a month. Oh boy. And the last hours of the weekend have already withered away. There's so much to be done, and summer's already gone. What am I to do?
-Cril

When I counted up my demons
Saw there was one for every day
With the good ones on my shoulders
I drove the other ones away

So if you ever feel neglected
And if you think that all is lost
I'll be counting up my demons, yeah
Hoping everything's not lost

Coldplay - Everything's Not Lost

Persistance of Memory

I just got back from a Family Reunion that happened this weekend. It was... Interesting. Aside from my immediate family (Grandparent, uncles/aunts, cousins), I can't say I remembered any faces. Well, I vaguely recalled a great uncle and aunt, but that was about it. This reunion was in the same location as one I went to fifteen years ago. It was pretty surreal. I didn't remember faces or names so much as... Snippets. I recalled watching The Lion King in the house, playing in the sandpit, and fetching some alcohol when I was really after some pop. Is that normal? Do people usually remember places and things rather than names and faces?

Anyways. I was sitting at work, plugging away at some website content. Got to Get You Into My Life (by the Beatles, of course) popped up on my iPod. I love the wind instruments in the song. A bit of trumpet fanfare backed up by a repeated theme on the sax. At near the end, everything fades out and back in around a quick guitar solo. So I have musical reasons for having it in my collection. But I was sitting there, something was niggling at the back of my brain. Like I had an itch in my memory. So as I tend to do so well, I sat there and scratched it. I pulled up some window that made it look like I was waiting for a file to save while I sat at my desk and pondered this song. I didn't even know what I was looking for. But whatever it was, it wouldn't come. So I got up to fetch some stock from the warehouse, and BAM! GRAPE JELLY ON RICE CAKES!

No, seriously. That's what I was searching for. Waaaay back when I lived on the northern BC coast, I listened to that song from my dad's collection (I can picture the cassette tape in my head right now) while eating a rice cake slathered in grape jelly. Back then I was allergic to lots of things. Wheat, potato, corn, yeast, milk, you name it. But not rice. So I ate a lot of rice in its various forms, including cakes. And grapes, being one of the few fruits I was simply less allergic to, I'd have as jam. I don't even remember liking the stuff, to be honest. But I guess you have to go with what you got. Also attached to that memory is looking out of the smallish dining room window as it rained, watching water pour downhill on the dirt road. I may have even been wearing hand-socks (for those of you less knowledgeable with such fine garments, when I was a wee kid I used to wear socks on my hands when my skin was particularly bad. Something about covering up the nastier spots felt more comfortable. It's probably why I usually stick to long sleeves or seldom wear sandles to this day).



So the obvious question is... Why? This memory seemed to be dropped on me like a ton of bricks. And the sudden fascination with uncovering it when that song played, I couldn't just put it out of my mind until I had it figured out. And why did it come to my mind then? My iTunes library says I've already listened to it some 70 times. Does it have some kind of meaning for whatever I'm doing now? Is it just because I was about to leave for the family reunion anyways? It really, truly baffles me.

This weekend that great uncle I semi-recall told me about the last reunion at that place, in 1995. I wouldn't have even been 10 by that age. He said he remembers how bad my skin was, and how it broke his heart to see how much it tormented me.

But what does it all mean? It's kinda funny - hearing my great uncle tell it to me like that kinda broke my heart a little bit too.
-Cril

I was alone, I took a ride,
I didn't know what I would find there
Another road where maybe I could see another kind of mind there

Ooh, then I suddenly see you,
Ooh, did I tell you I need you
Every single day of my life

You didn't run, you didn't lie
You knew I wanted just to hold you
Had you gone, you knew in time, we'd meet again
For I had told you

Ooh, you were meant to be near me
Ooh, and I want you hear me
Say we'll be together every day

Got to get you into my life

What can I do, what can I be,
When I'm with you I want to stay there
If I'm true I'll never leave
And if I do I know the way there

Ooh, then I suddenly see you,
Ooh, did I tell you I need you?
Every single day of my life

Got to get you into my life
Got to get you into my life

I was alone, I took a ride,
I didn't know what I would find there
Another road where maybe I could see another kind of mind there

Then suddenly I see you,
Did I tell you I need you?
Every single day...

Beatles - Got to Get You Into My Life

A Bit Detached

Life's feelin' surreal. I slept into 11 this morning. 11. The best I can figure, the last time I even slept in past 10 was about a year ago. Alarm clock or no, I always become conscious at 7:30, and then I doze in 40minute spurts. But I slept clean through to an hour before noon. What's up with that? I'm not even running on a massive deficit of sleep, either. Maybe I'm sleepwalking.

But aside from a few extra hours of sleep, I'm just not feelin'... Right. Like I'm a rowboat tethered with a long rope to the dock at reality. I still feel somewhat attached to the world, but I'm just kinda drifting around. I go to work each day and can put in a solid 10hrs of productivity. When it comes to personal time, nothing feels right. Draw, read, game, walk, whatever. I'm just kinda watching it all waltz by in front of me. What's up with that?

I watched Insomnia and Donnie Darko this weekend, and I'm pretty sure that didn't help at all. Both great films, but they themselves have certain elements of surrealism that I find to have a rather intense effect on my brain. My mind feels like putty. Easily warped and shaped, but has problems keeping its own form for a while.

Following a prompting from El Franko, I went for a drive. I went... North, and a lil' bit west, and more north again. I followed some quiet highways right down the middle of some farmland. I could go for five or six minutes without passing another single soul on the road. It was nice - I had a grin on my face the whole time. I didn't look at the clock at all. Well, I did, but what I saw had zero bearing on anything. It's 2:45. So what? So I kept going. I just drove. And shot some pics along the way. Most of which were overexposed. I was hoping to get my new (used) camera by now, but no such luck.

But it was incredible - I'd stop and get out to do some shooting. A fencepost or field that caught me attention. It kinda sucks - when you're doing 100km/h you don't really have the opportunity to stop suddenly for that dirt road that looked promising. Anyways, I'd stop and get out. You can see for miles and miles, and the best part is that the only sound is the wind through the grass. Maybe some crickets. Even as I'm sitting here typing there's the constant tide of vehicles surging down the road and jets taking off at the airport. There's always unnatural ambient noise in the city. Always. But it's not the case in the middle of nowhere. It was rather refreshing.

Of course, the problem with doing something so unusual when you're already feeling a bit absent-minded tends to exacerbate the issue. I'll be in bed in two to three hours, and then my weekend will be over. Where did it go? Did I ever even have it in the first place?

Maybe I'm too busy waiting. I'm not thinking about today or yesterday or even tomorrow. It's gotta be school in the fall. I work to save for it, I've spent the better part of the last month figuring out laptops for it. I've spent the entirety of the last three months worrying about it.

The funny thing is that the overdrive mode I put myself into for school still has a bit of a hold on me. I have lists of movies to watch and books to read. I get through them as fast as I can. I get some enjoyment out of them along the way, but I'm always concerned with getting them done. Bang, bang, bang. I just recently unlocked all the weapons in Bad Company 2. Great! So I pick up Team Fortress 2 for the first time in a long time, and over the course of a week I earn all of the unlocks for the Soldier, Demo, and Engineer. The Wrangler for the Engineer was the last item. I got a lucky kill when netted me two achievements and the unlock. I kid you not, I play for all of 5 more minutes (now with my new toy) before I close the program. I sit there and stare at my installed games, and hop between two or three before calling it quits for the night. It occurs to me a day or two later that I'm treating my games as work. Play and work towards x goals, and once I'm done, that's it. Close the program, move on. How bizarre and unsettling. Mostly unsettling.



So here I am writing another post. Then I gotta call home, then make a lunch for tomorrow. Always one more thing to do. Bang, bang, bang. But I still feel like that boat. Drifting out until the line snaps tight. Float up close and bump into the dock. Never really quite knowing what's going on or having power over it.
-Cril

Philip Glass - Morning Passages

Fresh Fruit - An Afterword

I just have a few other tidbits that have come to mind since that last post that I want to get off my chest before I bury the hatchet and speak of it no more. First though, it might be worth mentioning that I penned 3100 words, which took me just over an hour. It was going to be three hours, until I discovered that I somehow managed to put my system time ahead by 120minutes. Go figure. Anyways, I think 3100 words is longer than any assignments I've done in the past year. But that's more of a statement about the sad state of affairs for the ACAD liberal studies. But anyways, on with the show.

• I now have exactly two less reasons to knock Macs. The first being Steam, the second being StarCraft 2. I consider myself a bit of a gamer, and it'd seem kinda stupid to go with a system that wouldn't allow me to play my favourite titles. With Steam (and Valve games in particular) available, I can't really argue that point any more. Mind you, considering it's stupid easy to install Windows on a Mac anyways may void my entire thesis for this one.
• Second, which should have been included as a disclaimer, I'm incredibly biased in favour of Windows. It may have something to do with the fact that I've used it as my primary OS since 3.1. I've probably been using it since I've been six or seven. That isn't to say I'm ignorantly oblivious to its faults - even right now I can't get my tablet to work at all. Which is a shame, because I was looking forward to drawing Vader's helmet tonight.
  
• Steve Jobs just rubs me the wrong way. I can't say why. I know it's popular to knock Bill Gates, but the man is lovable geek. Watch him in interviews - you can tell he's a total nerd that still kinda uncomfortable with public speaking and attention. Jobs, on the other hand... Strikes me as a slimey and arrogant car salesman. He's wildly intelligent, I'll give him that. But I don't like him.
• I'm done with iPods. Once my Touch finally bites the biscuit (is that even a saying?), I'm going to get... I have no idea, actually. But I want it to sync with SongBird, which is a great iTunes replacement. Sure, I'd love some basic apps and web support, but I'll be okay with just a video/music player. I seldom use the other features anyways. It's a bummer, though, that you can't really find another competitively-priced PDA that isn't a smarthphone with hella expensive data plan. I miss Palm.
  
• I just want to say one more time that Apple makes great stuff. The iPod Touch's interface and design is so sleek and sexy and intuitive. Macs are built well and are equally well engineered. It's just the company itself I have issues with. Their marketing, their pricing, their policies... They really turn me off. You can argue whether or not this iPhone 4 antenna thing is a real issue or not, but you kinda have to agree that Apple could've done a better job handling it. Telling consumers that no, in fact you don't have any problem at all, and deleting forum threads discussing the issue doesn't quite seem as classy as what they sell. Reminds me of Toyota. Make good quality stuff, but it's kinda overshadowed by some rather sleazy business practices.

So there we go, it's all off my chest. Now that you've been so thoroughly subjected to my long winded views on the matter I will mention it no more. Unless they do something really really dumb.
-Cril

Oliver Jones - Green Dolphin Street

How do YOU like dem Apples?

So, Macs. It's something I've been mulling over for, well, more than a year now. When I went to the intro seminar for ACAD, they mentioned that laptops were mandatory, and that a Mac is pretty heavily recommended. A friend that accompanied me at the time told me that I'd end up getting a Mac, even though I wasn't particularly fond of them. I told her no thanks, but deep down there was a seed of doubt. I mean, there's no denying that Apple makes well engineered products, both in hardware and software. So I mulled it over while I did my first year of studies, and noted that 90% of the notebooks used were indeed Apple products. I've been building up lists of pros and cons in my head, rehearsing how I can articulate my thoughts in a clear manner. Let's give it a (long-winded) go, shall we?

My first Apple product was a 4GB iPod Mini - my first ever MP3 player. I fell in love with it - the touch wheel was fantastic, iTunes was intuitive, it was small, and let me carry around way more music than my CD Mp3 player I had been using. I paid $249 for it, if I recall correctly. I loved it, it went everywhere with me, and I can say without a doubt it's what got me through the last year of highschool. Then about eight months after I'd bought it, the batter died. Good thing it was covered by warranty - I got it replaced in quick fashion (kudos to Apple's support division). The few days in between sending out the old and receiving the new was occupied with a painfully clunky 512MB SanDisk player. But I got the new one. Woo! Six months later, the battery was fried. Because the warranty of the original iPod was long run out and the replacement (a refurb) was only covered for one month, I had to get this one fixed DIY style. $40 later, I had a new battery and replaced it. I mangled the case a bit, and aside from looking a bit nasty I had to use some masking tape to keep the top panel on. But it worked. Seven or so months later, the battery was starting to go again.

But hark! What's this? The iPod Touch, a device of pristine sexiness. Look at the slim factor, amazing +20hr of battery life, internet/browser connectivity and that big and wonderful touch screen! You can't take it apart to replace the battery, but surely that issue has been resolved by now! It's kinda stupid that all I get in terms functionality is web, music, and videos, but that should be okay. They have those stupid lil' web apps that should keep me occupied in a pinch. Besides, with a device like that it must be a matter of time until proper OS-based apps arrive, right? Basically, I desperately wanted a device that melded the functionality of my Palm Zire 72 and my (rapidly expiring) iPod. So I paid ~$300 for the 8GB model and got me an iPod Touch. So sexy. The interface was brilliant. But the months rolled by, and no apps made an appearance. Apparently Apple had zero intention of bringing such a feature to the device. Well, that was stupid of me to purchase something like that without checking out the companies intentions. But it's pretty stupid of the company to have a device like that and rob it of the capability to run proper programs. What's this? There's a thing called 'jail breaking' that'll get me a bunch of cool (and free) games and utilities? But it'd void the warranty and there were stories of bricked iPods/iPhones. Then a few months down the road as jailbreaking was becoming incredibly popular, Apple delivers the AppStore. I raised my eyebrows at that one. Really, Apple? You only deliver what should be a no-brainer feature only after some hackers make it painfully obvious how valuable it is? Looking back, of course, the App Store must've been in development for some time, but still. Either way, I was elated! Horray! I'll finally get the basic programs iPhone users had (calendar, notes, calculator, maps, contacts) plus support for 3rd party apps and games, and they won't void my warranty! Where do I sign up? Oh, right here next to my credit card that'll get charged $10? Wait, what? Seriously, Apple? Especially for something so retarded obvious that 90% of early adopters were expecting?Who the hell charges for firmware updates? Especially when one of the components, the App Store, is made so that we can spend out money anyways? Wow, just wow. Palm never charged for firmware updates. I've never heard of Google, Microsoft, HP, Sony, Nintendo, Motorola or Nokia charging for firmware updates. In fact, the only other devices I can think of that charge for updates would be GPS devices. So I pirated that update. That's what I get for being an eager, early adopter. And right here is where I started to dislike Apple.

I hate their proprietary file formats for music and video. I've purchased a grand total of two albums from iTunes, and I will never do it again. iTunes has become increasingly clunky as the years roll by and my music library grows. I've grown to absolutely despise their secretive policies for application submissions, and how they continually lock out Flash from their mobile platforms so they can keep a tight reign on generating revenue from Apps. "But Flash is such a huge power drain on the battery!" SHOCKING! THIS JUST IN - USING PROGRAMS INCREASES POWER CONSUMPTION! If it wasn't about money, they'd let Adobe release a mobile version of Flash and let the performance results speak for themselves. But instead they skirt around the issue with half-answers and hide behind their incredibly secretive and one-sided application submission policy. This issue of total control and exclusivity is also kind of obvious in their aggressive stance on Google/Android and Microsoft, and their pursuit to prevent others from using (what many think to be) straight forward phone features. Funny, all this hoopla coming from a company that is "shameless about stealing good ideas".

Moving on from my rant-like state to give credit where credit is due - my iPods have been fantastic devices. My Touch is starting to die - every once in a while (I haven't figured out the rhyme or reason) it mysteriously gets quite warm and dumps 95% of its charge in about 10-15mins. It happened a few times within the 1yr warranty, but I was an idiot and thought it was an isolated incident. Now, just over two years after I got it, it's still truckin' along. The battery life is down to about 15hrs of music (what I primarily use it for), and any internet use really eats up remaining charge quickly. But again to reiterate - it's a well designed piece of technology. The interface is simple and incredibly intuitive (especially for sorting through music), and the form factor and bright display are still stunning. And the touch response and how it's implemented to browsing and interaction is brilliant.

But let's get down to the ugly topic about Apple. Let's face it folks, a large part of it is a social thing. It's the way capatalism works - whoever can hock their wares the best wins. And Apple has done a great job convincing the population that their products are, without a doubt, cool. But I can not stand their standard Mac vs PC ads. "Quick, let's advertise our products by attacking the competition using stereotypes and gross over-generalizations!" And yes, they're well done. They're funny. And they are, above all else, most definitely effective. But just because something is successful, it doesn't mean I need to like it. The buy American campaign has done a great job at keeping consumers coming back for years to buy cars from the big three North American manufacturers, even though their leadership is messed up, the products incredibly mediocre, and the Civic across the road was made by just as much by Americans in Ohio as that Chevrolet was made by Americans in Detroit. Perhaps it isn't the best analogy, but it gets the point across. Something effective isn't necessarily the most honourable way of doing business. But that's capitalism, and I recognize that. This is a personal, point-of-view issue, and ad firms working for Apple get paid well because they do a good job.

But back to that social thing. Okay, let me put it this way. Apple does the same thing in their advertisements against PC users, so I'm going to use that as an excuse to stereotype Apple users. This laser year at school has absolutely confirmed every negative notion assiciated with the ideas of the average, hip Mac owner. Thinks of themselves as fairly artistic and creative. Not very technically savvy. Thick-rimmed glasses. A love for expensive, freshly brewed caffeinated beverages with fancy names. You think I'm joking. Okay, cut out the 'artistic and creative' bit (you'll tend to find that at an art school). I can say about 80% of the Mac users at school drink expensive coffee and/or wear designer fashions, especially glasses (Mind you, going by that logic, if your eyesight has not decayed enough to warrant corrective lenses, you are more likely to drink coffee). I thought I'd give it a fair shot, so when I started school I talked to people I ran across using Macs and asked them why. They'd pretty much just paraphrase the PC vs Mac stories. I hate to break it to you, but I honestly can't recall the last time I've downloaded a virus. You see, I've used the internet more than twice and know that the "Free Smiley Pack" and "You are the 100,000th Visitor!" banners are going to give you a bit more than you bargained for. And that German website advertising FrEe GaMeS aNd WaRez with porn links in the sidebar? It may not be reputable. But in Windows nothing works and everything that does breaks easily! Uhm, no it doesn't. In fact, I just installed Windows 7 last week and was blown away at how streamlines and simple and stable things have been so far. But I won't gloss over it - sure, a Windows machine can take a bit of extra love once in a while to keep the gears turning. But I appreciate the fact that I know how to poke through a config file in Notepad and secretly enjoy getting up to my shoulders in a computer case. I think I have a better understanding of technology for it. But saying that this is an advantage over a Mac would be like saying you should buy a Volkswagon because you'll learn to be a great mechanic with all the time you'll end up spending under the hood.



But I'd tell those same people I asked about why they got a Mac about why I was hesitant about getting one, and their eyes kind of glaze over. Then they make some remark about how Microsoft copied everything good in Windows straight from the Mac. Which, as we know, is something Apple would never ever do. But not to oversimplify things to much, there are, of course, exceptions to the rule. My roomate is an exceptionally intellectual and technologically-savvy fellow, and his go-to machine is a Macbook Pro. My best Miami Pal Ever who writes technical/computer documentation also swears by Apple products, and used his shiny new iPhone 4 to record his son's birth.

I'm not saying this is universally true, I just think many people have Macs and people want Macs because they're cool. There's is definitely merit to the points of engineering and usability, but as a whole that's not what's moving product off shelves. I talked to many people at school not involved with software/computer-based programs (jewelry, painting, sculpture, etc) who use their Mac for taking notes and browsing Facebook. Wow, you consciously paid for a premium product to do tasks that absolutely every single netbook on the market can do just as well. Ok, fine, whatever - people have the right to get whatever they want with their money. I even bought Moby's Hotel dual-album. But as far as buying a computer because it's cool... I'm not a cool guy, I never have been, and I probably never will be. I take a certain amount of pride in being slightly off-kilter and antisocial. I guess you could say it's a desire to be different, which is exactly the reason many Apple owners buy what they do. So instead I side with the likes of Google or Microsoft, which almost everyone and their dog uses. I like to tell myself I have good reasons for choosing the way I do. But it really makes me wonder - if I was in a setting where Macs were not the norm, would I be more likely to get one?

But, ok. Let's take all this over-analyzation and incredible bias and put it aside. I like to think that I can be somewhat reasonable from time to time, and can take a look at the facts with an open perspective. I need a laptop for the next three years of school. The requirements say 2.54GHz processor and 4GB of RAM minimum. My personal requirement is that it needs at least 1000 vertical pixels. And I should get something reasonably portable with three years of extended warranty to see me through the end of my schooling.

My brother recommended to me the Lenovo ThinkPads, which are pretty decent, buisiness-quality laptops extensively used in the company where he works in IT. Ok, the T510 with discrete graphics and full HD screen looks like it'll fit the bill. It's only a 15.6" display so it'll have a pretty dense DPI, but I'm alright with that for the smaller form factor. I want it to last me, so I'm alright with spending a bit more on the specs to make a bit more powerful. We'll go with the 2.66GHz i7 processor, 4GB of RAM, 7200RPM 320GB HD, and (because my bro insists it's cool) I'll get the fingerprint scanner. Grand total is $2318. Thinkpad is one of those stupid stores that has a constant SALE! discounts to make you more likely to purchase, which knocks the price down to $1923. They like to offer other sales in addition to these, using any excuse they can find (Father's Day! Canada Day! 72 Hour Employee's Discount!), and a current sale knocks off another 25%. The grand total, if I order before July 12th, is $1524.50.

The school guidelines suggest a Macbook Pro. Ok, the only model with 1000px vertical is the 17", so let's take a look. Full disclosure - the 17" Pro has a 500GB HD and 1200px display as standard, so that means I'll be getting 180GB and 120px extra than the T510. It also has a funky magnetic power cord thingy and a webcam (WOOOOOWWWWW!) Configured the same with similar warranty, it comes to (wait for it)... $2848. "But Chris, what about the Educational discount?!". That knocks it down to $2617. "But you get a free 8GB iPod Touch (that won't require a paid-for firmware update... probably)!" Assuming I could sell it for full retail value, my net expense is $2398.

Which is a far cry from $1524.50. By $873.50. Even if you were to scratch Lenovo's Stupid Constant Marketing Sale and their Any Excuse for a Sale Sale, the Macbook Pro is still $80 more. Which, considering the extra 180GM/120px/webcam/powercord, is quite reasonable. The matte/non-glare screen, offered on the Mac but not Thinkpad, would probably even be worth the extra $47. But, my friends, these are not the circumstances. As far as I know, Macs seldom go on sale as is, and I'd be VERY hard pressed to find a sale that gets me more than $450 off (what I'm saving with the education discount and iPod Touch). Since I've started investigating the Thinkpads about a month and a bit ago, they've always had the Stupid Marketing sale and gone through at least three other 25% off or more sales.

To give you a really simple idea of what's going on here, let's look at one component - the processor. The heart, the brain, the center. The Macbook Pro and Thinkpad both come with the 2.53GHz Intel Core i5 as standard. And both have the option to upgrade to the same 2.66GHz i7. It costs $70 to add it to the Thinkpad. And how much for the Macbook (wait for it again)... $189. That's WITH the educational discount, by the way. It'd be $200 without. That's more than twice as much for the same. Friggin'. Part. As it turns out, you hear a lot about that "Apple Tax" thing for a reason.

I've taken a quick peak at the 15" models, official refurbs and buying a used Pro out of the classifieds, all of which are still slightly more expensive than a brand-new ThinkPad. I honestly, hand-on-heart, went into this with an open mind. I'm an incredibly dollar-oriented guy, and if the Mac was cheaper I would have thrown away my other reservations and gone for it. But I'm sorry, taking into account the Apple discounts and even discarding Lenovo's, it was a stupidly large difference. Add in the full sales, and Apple has gone FULL RETARD. $870 is a lot of money for, essentially, the same thing. It's more than 50% of the T510's value. With that money I can buy the entire Adobe CS5 Master Suite from school. Or I can save it, and it'll put me that much closer to a Porsche.

You see, it's that kind of a gap that makes me wonder why Macs sell as well as they do for as much as they do. It kind brings that 'cool' thing back into play, and the technologically clueless stereotype. I'm not saying it applies to everyone. I know people who know exactly what they're buying and for what reasons. $870. It's kind of boggling.

My only reservation is that, being a Mac-centric school, I'll need have OSX for specific assignments or criteria. There's an "Intro to Digital Technology" course, even. Which should be worth a laugh. But what if I actually, earnestly need a Mac? I even emailed the department head and got a rather vague response. Well, it's best to be prepared. I think it'll take a bit of elbow grease, but I'll take the same approach as I did with the $10 iPod Touch firmware. 'Cause I ain't payin' that.
-Cril

I've never been frightened of being enlightened
But some things can go too far
Though sometimes I stammer and mix up my grammar
You get what my meanings are

These apples are delicious
As a matter of fact they are, she said
Can all this fruit be free?

Barenaked Ladies - These Apples