Archive for March, 2008

  • Yesterday

    Yesterday

    Had an attack of the Yesterdays earlier this week. I was trying to figure out how to get back into the old Photobucket account. I haven’t been there in forever. In fact, once I was in, I went to change the email contact info. It was still my old-old-old email from Aurora. Like before it was my name and was just my student number. Basically, ages ago.

    There are a bunch of pictures of kittens and dictators, as well as a good one of William Shatner. But there are also a few handfuls of shots from the old apartment, mostly from January and February of 2005, when I had just moved in. There are a few from when my hair was too short to be…short…but too long to be a ponytail. One shows me with a Cubs glass of green liquid. I remember that liquid: Bacardi Gold and dnL (7UP-sidedown). It was disgusting.

    It got me thinking again about the strange series of events that has brought me to where I am. I can point specifically to a few spots that, if they had happened differently, would have significantly altered things. In some cases, I can even pick out dates, or at least approximations, for when these “turns” happened.

    I am certain that this is a common occurrence. Yet, in a life full of options, sometimes wondering about the “what ifs?” is terribly interesting. I try not to dwell. What is past is past, and I am terribly happy now.

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  • The Science of Graft

    The Science of Graft

    I finished work on the massive research project for our Democracy in Latin America lab tonight. The final piece came out to 5,585 words, which is around what I was shooting for. It’s big. The document itself is near 136kb, and it comes in at 17 pages in single-space block paragraph form. A handful of snarky footnotes and a firm unwillingness to adopt a paragraphing style that is easy on the eyes have turned the paper into something strange to look at. I footnoted the title. Who footnotes titles, anyway?

    The TA will tell me soon whether or not I lived up to expectations. I certainly hope so, eh? Once it’s graded and I’m sure that I can move it around, I’ll post it through the blog as a Googledoc.

    But damn, was it a lot of work. I still have another pile of research that never even made its way into a brief mention; there were things that I just didn’t have the wherewithal to mention.

    On the whole, though, I find the concept of corruption as exclusion to be a pretty damn salient point when one is discussing notions of vertical and horizontal accountability in democracy. It’s possible that I will return to this paper at a later date and do some more digging. There’s gotta be an answer in there somewhere, right?

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  • Haircut

    Haircut

    This might be the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It was clicked on a whim, but had me gasping for air by the end.

    http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/f171d726e8

    This is going to cause me trouble in settings where I shouldn’t laugh, I can just see it.

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  • You enter a tunnel of blinding white light…

    You enter a tunnel of blinding white light…

    Gary Gygax died today.

    I thought of the time during that ridiculous battle that we were losing badly; I levitated Karl up to that floating purple dragon, Mortus, and he rolled a supercritical and killed it. We were in the gym back in high school. I think I actually shouted out loud when he rolled that 20. Destroying Mortus removed quite a few obstacles, including, in a strange way, the good dragon guy whose name escapes me. In any case, we came away from that battle with more money that we knew what to do with. Of course, it also set in motion a chain of events that would push Karl’s character further and further away from mine, and eventually lead to me being installed as DM.

    Then there was the Ice Cave expedition with my cousins and the twins.

    Filling coffee mugs full of dice at Gen Con 1999.

    Downloading maps from wizards.com with every intention of using them.

    Playing Baldur’s Gate all the way through in three weeks during detasseling season.

    Attempting to write a full history and theology for the world that I inherited from Ian.

    Tying cloth around my monk’s fists, dipping them in grain alcohol, and lighting them on fire in the hopes of causing extra damage to a squad of assassins, only to burn myself half to death.

    Drawing the World map with Karl in his basement. I wonder if it is still there.

    Sifting through vintage guidebooks at Paper Escape.

    Finding my uncle’s First Edition rulebooks in the basement at the old farm.

    Years later, bringing those same rulebooks to Gen Con 2001, where I had them signed by the man who hosted what would become the first Gen Con in his basement in 1966. Telling that man what an honor it was to meet him, just like thousands of kids that day had already done, and still being treated as warmly as I could have hoped.

    Despite all its pop-culture baggage, Dungeons and Dragons has been, and will be, a significant part of the development of a great many people. For some, it was a way to escape the doldrums of daily life. For others, becoming someone (or something) else was a dangerous, exciting proposition. Say what you will, but D&D is an ingrained part of the lives of many successful people.

    And we joke about the passing of Mr. Gygax, as I’m sure he would expect, with classic lines: “I guess he failed his save vs. death!” or “Must’ve run out of HP…”

    He’s gone to the great inn in the sky, to relax in front of a roaring fire with elven rangers and Halfling thieves, evil human wizards and paladins of pure heart, mysterious sorcerers and half-orc berzerkers. They will quaff tankards of mead, and recount the glory days of d20s and diamonds, goblins and gold pieces, and the overwhelming happiness that can come from sitting with friends and imagining yourself to far away lands.

    Rest in peace, Mr. Gygax.


    (July 27, 1938 – March 4, 2008)

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