"Fake Nerd Girls"

This topic has been coming up a lot recently, so I figure I’d throw my two cents in about it. For those unfamiliar with the phenomenon named in the title, Geekdom has been beset by an insufferable scourge. Yes, dear reader. With the increased popularity of “geeky” cultural niches has come an increased attention from the outside world, and with it has come… the fake nerd girl.

The rant about Fake Geek Girls typically begins by complaining about “Con Girls”. Not girls trying to rob you of your life savings by investing in a Chia Pet ponzi scheme, but girls that attend conventions- typically, girls at conventions dressed up as some character or another. The refrain goes that these girls actually know nothing about whatever franchise they’ve dressed up as, and are only using the Con as a middle-of-the-year, Halloween-esque excuse to dress up in fanciful, yet always slutty, clothing. Why, you might ask?

For the attention, the geek would respond!

Because according to this particular part of the complaint, Con Girls aren’t actually hot enough to hack it as bona fide Hot Girls on the outside; they’re just banking on the stereotype of geeks being inept with women to buoy their attractiveness up a couple pegs by comparison to girls these guys would “typically” have a shot at. (This is known as being “Con Hot”, and it is not a compliment).

Now- I’ll ignore for a moment the fact that the dudes complaining about this probably have no idea how much of a “true fan” Girl X actually is or isn’t, whether or not she’s dressed up. Book, cover, yadda yadda. I want to take a look at where this argument comes from, and then expose it for what it really is.

So where does it come from? Different people might have different underlying reasons for their aversion to “fake nerd girls”, be they dressed up or not: some might believe girls are using their bodies just for personal attention (as mentioned above) or professional attention (to sell some product or other); some male geeks might believe that a more attractive girl couldn’t possibly be interested in something so traditionally anathema to sex appeal, and so any interaction with an attractive woman in the context of their niche is more an act of pity on her part (and “I don’t need your goddamned pity!”) than a true display of her interest in the subject material.

I could go on ad nauseum; the potential reasons behind the accusations of someone being a “fake” geek girl are legion, but they all boil down to the same thing. I’ll list three statements, each progressively closer to the root of the issue; keep score at home and see when you pick up on it.

1.  “These fake geek chicks are terrible! They’re not even into this stuff because they like it, they’re into it for attention. I liked this Con more before they started coming.”
2. “These people are terrible! They’re not even into this stuff. I liked this more before they started coming.” 
3. “Ugh, this is terrible. Those people aren’t even real fans. This was much cooler before it was popular.”

That’s right, my fellow geeks. If you’ve claimed that you liked being a geek before your niche of choice became as mainstream, then you’ve moved out of Geektown and into that one town that everyone in America names with equal venom- Hipsterville.

Ponder that for a moment. Roll that word around in your head. Turn thee, Geekvolio, and look upon thy Hipster-y death!

See, back in the “glory days” I think some of our brothers yearn for- the days of (and here’s my street cred) reading Unearthed Arcana around Gygax’s basement, postulating on what would one day become the THAC0 system or some shit- liking things like comics (sorry, graphic novels) or fantasy card games was decidedly unpopular. But geeks loved them anyway, and would wax poetic about their +3 Dirk of Attentionslaying to anyone with ears and a pulse. That’s what made geeks so geeky. There was no question that professing their love for their niche would get them a first class ticket to a swirly; they professed anyway. And they would try to turn you to the Geek Side too, even if your expression was something akin to a root canal patient’s without anesthesia. I should know. If I had a dollar for every time I used D&D lingo in a middle school English class, trying to sound cool? I could probably pay off my student loans.

Point is- that’s what a good geek is supposed to do. He or she is supposed to look at another person and go, “Ears? Check! Pulse? Check! HEY DO YOU HAVE A MOMENT to talk about our Shiny Lord and Savior, Malcolm Reynolds?”

(One hopes there’s at least some context to this conversation. Bringing it up as a non sequitur typically sounds about as irritating as someone who can’t stop talking about how much they bench pressed- society tends to call those people guidos, or in the root latin, goddamn fucking tools… but I digress). Point is, a good geek is supposed to be a good spokesperson for their niche, thereby increasing the number of people who dig what they dig, and bettering humanity as a whole.

These Anti-“Fake Geek Girl” dudes don’t do that. They don’t see Random Girl dressed as Tifa and think, “Y’know, I should go see if she’s played any of the other FF games”. They don’t see the shared interest as a conversation starter. They see her as a threat of some sort, as if there’s some planetary stockpile of Geekiness, and they have to hoard as much of it as they can to survive the coming football season. I suspect that some of it derives from “I liked this hobby as a form of relaxation, but now with hot girls around I can’t relax anymore, so I’ll be a twat and hope they leave.”

…This is almost always followed a few hours if not minutes later with, “God, girls always go for the assholes. Why won't one talk to me?"

And of course, some of the Anti-“Fake Geek Girl” Guys (Contest Time: Someone come up with a clever acronym for that) are just Hipsters, pure and simple.

But fuck them.

Because fuck Hipsters.

As a really quick aside- I firmly believe that anyone who’s super into something is a geek. Video games, cars, food, weight lifting, vintage issues of Cat Fancy- whatever. If you get real tooled up about something to the point where you have to bite your own tongue to keep yourself from gushing about it out of context again, welcome to Geektown, here’s your pocket protector. But nontraditional kinds of geeks- people into cars, sports, and so forth- they’ve had fangirls tag along to their various big-ticket events for decades! When was the last time you heard a car buff start bitching about all the scantily-clad women that Honda brought with them to the last bike show? Or, when was the last time you heard your local armchair quarterback complain that he doesn’t think the Cowboys cheerleaders don’t really appreciate the game?

I suppose this is all a ranty and fairly roundabout way of saying shut up and accept the company, man! Whether it’s girls, guys, whoever. The more the merrier. And if you disagree, then…

Well, I’ll say it again.

Fuck Hipsters.

The X-Box Story

So, in the words of Ron White, "I told you that story so I can tell you this story."
This, my friends, is "that story".

It was some months ago now that I was playing a hand of cards with my boys. One of them, a gentleman with an infamous reputation for being a terrible cards player for how often he becomes distracted, became (you guessed it!) distracted and immediately slams his cards on the table. His eyes bugging halfway out of his head, he leaned over the table and into my face.
"HEY!" He exclaimed, "Do you have an XBOX?"

I leaned back so as not to catch another whiff of what he'd had for lunch (meatloaf and green beans, as far as I could guess), and shot a look at the other two patients. They were putting their own cards in order and were paying Patient 1 no attention. I should have followed suit, but being the fool I am, I answered.
"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I have an XBox."
He leaned forward again. How you doin', greenbeans and- a hint of vanilla? "DO YOU PLAY IT?"

I leaned back again, inadvertently scootching my chair a ways. "...No. Nah, man I don't. I'm too busy."

That was a bald-faced lie; I was certainly not too busy to play my XBox, I was in fact quite busy saving the universe as Commander Sheppard. But this guy knows his movies and video games, so I didn't even want to risk the potential for a conversation about the finer points of taking a Reaper to the mattresses. (I was also worried that it might branch into a conversation about taking Miranda to the mattresses, know what I mean?)

Anyhow. Where was I? Oh yes. I'd just told him that I was too busy to play video games.
"I'm too busy," says I.
"CAN I HAVE IT?!"

I blinked. He... wanted my XBox? My unit is so restrictive they can't even have a calendar on their wall. Not even a poster. They don't even have their own clothes on my unit!
"Um... no. You can't. Play... play your hand."
"I can't have it?"
"No."
"Aw."

A moment passed, and for a brief, shining second, I thought I could go back to my favorite work pastime; ignoring this person. But alas.
"WHERE D'YOU LIVE?"

Before I could respond to this, Patient 2 decides to offer me some advice.
"Yoooouuuu bettah not tell him wheah you live," he said sagely, never taking his eyes up from his hand, "Or yooouu wake up one morn', thinkin' you got an Ecks-Bawks but you WONT HAVE SHEEEYIT."

My cards are now everywhere. I have spit onto the table and probably onto Patients 2 and 3- but if 3 gets hit by my spray, I don't see his reaction; if 2 has been hit, he doesn't care. He ignores my reaction completely.
"Yoooouuuu wake up one morn', thinkin' you got an Ecks-Bawks, but he be PLAYIN' yo' Ecks-Bawks at YO' MOMMA'S HOUSE."

Mechanical Horses!

So last night I tried to go and watch Skyfall. Unfortunately for my eyeballs, the movie was sold out and I didn't get to watch it. Fortunately for my eyeballs, on my way back to my car I stumbled across... this.

That's right, bicycle polo. Just a bunch of dudes, rollin' around a dry ice rink, playing a gentlemanly game of bike polo. Turns out there's a whole league of people that play this state-wide, and apparently a Lafayette team are the defending state champions! There wasn't a huge crowd, as you can see, and my video is only what my phone could take- but I wanted to share it, since it reinforces my belief that you find the coolest things when you're not actively looking for them.

That's all for today.

I Dream of Gringo

I have a confession to male.
It’s only three days since the election, and I’ve already engaged in my personal self-harming action of choice. No, dear reader, I am not a cutter; I do not binge and purge; I do not engage in fits of manic spending or sexual abandon (except in the case of your mom). No, my demon is a far darker creature, more apt to ignore the immediate gratification of self-mutilation and partake in the soul-crushing long game.

I’ve started reading about the 2016 election cycle.

“How can this be?!” You might ask, and you’d be justified in your confusion. After all, we just got done with the whole blasted mess, how can I be so full of hatred for my sanity that I’m already looking up information regarding an event that won’t take place until I’m 30?
Because, my friend, in four years we may have the chance to see a deathblow leveled against a major political party. I’ll do my best to prognosticate about this with as little bias as possible, even though the claim itself may appear biased to begin with. I’m simply exploring a possibility.

Obama killed it with non-whites. No reason trying to call this anything other than what it was; it was an absolute stomping. I could waste my time trying to explain why this took place, but rather than do that I’d like to extrapolate outwards. Let’s look at Latinos, for example. They’re the fastest-growing population in the country; according to Pew research they accounted for 46% of the nation’s growth between 2000 and 2010- this group jumped from contributing about 35,306,000 people to our population… to 50,478,000. That increase is enormous. Latinos increased their number by almost half over ten years, coming to ~16% of our entire population. By contrast? Us white boys only got together with enough white girls to bring the Gringo vote from 194.5 million to 196.8 million (that’s about half a percent increase). While that’s still a huge head start, the gap is closing by leaps and bounds.
Now consider this. Assuming similar rates of population growth over the next ten and twenty years, we could be looking at an American electorate with a Latino population of 112 million or so, compared to a White population only a few million higher than it currently is.

Why is this important?
In an electorate that decides its President by a margin of only a few million votes here or there, any one population that is growing faster that the others must be paid special attention to; pretending that the population growth of Latinos isn’t important is political suicide. Similarly equitable to electoral seppuku is taking a hard-right stance on immigration issues, as Mitt Romney did by supporting “self-deportation”, which is essentially hoping that illegal immigrants find the atmosphere of the country so unfavorable that they get up and leave on their own. Other conservative standpoints, such as building a wall on “every mile, on every yard, on every foot, on every inch of the southern border” do the Republican brand no favors with people of Latino heritage. (It’s also a completely untenable construction project, but that’s beside the point).

All of these issues for conservatives combine into a possibility that if, within the next four years, immigration reform can be attained? The credit could very easily go to President Obama and the Democrats. I’m not going to speculate about the staying power of the DREAM Act (or something like it) if its passed early in Obama’s second term; nor will I speculate about the number of Latinos (or voters in general) this could net the Democrats come 2016. What I can say is that any cursory inspection of the news will reveal how powerful an issue immigration reform is for the Latino community; a poll conducted by Latin Insights on behalf of Fox News in March of 2012 revealed 90% support for President Obama’s DREAM Act. Pew Research’s Hispanic Center found that 91% of Latinos supported DREAM; 84% supported giving in-state tuition to undocumented students.

TL;DR: This is a big fucking deal.

…Which brings me back to my original claim. I went out on a limb and said that we could witness a deathblow to a major American political party, and I stand by that possibility. Republicans currently stand almost entirely on the wrong side of this issue, politically speaking. Never mind who’s actually right or wrong; the fastest growing population in America says immigration reform is a huge deal, and the Republican party couldn’t trip over itself fast enough to tack further and further to the right on the issue. They very well could have saved their election efforts if they hadn’t have alienated this key demographic. If they continue to talk about border-length fences and self-deportation, or -as some have suggested- if they react to their recent loss by deciding they haven’t been conservative enough, I would think they can expect to continue losing seats in both houses. And that trend, combined with the losses experienced from most other minorities, could spell the deathknell of their party.

Or the Tea Party 2 could come along and prove me wrong. But only time will tell.

Things I Learned on Election Night

It's finally over.

Election Night has come and gone; the ceaseless campaign machine can grind to a halt and the talking heads can give their vocal chords a rest (aside from a few remaining blowhards). I won't try to hide my elation at the country's collective decisions- but I do want to take a brief moment and talk about what all just happened here.

1) President Obama, smug as ever, keeps his job.

I was clearly an Obama supporter. I think he's done a lot of good in the face of an unprecedented amount of conservative obstructionism. A Romney Presidency would have disappointed me, make no mistake. Now- I wasn't one of the "I'm moving to Canada!" liberals that were bemoaning our possible fate, but the worries I had were as follows: If Romney had won, I was afraid that liberals would have become embittered and taken up the mantle of obstructionism, and the whole damn process would have started all over again. With Obama retaining his job, and Democrats gaining ground in both the House and the Senate, I'm hoping that conservative stonewalling will have lost some of its steam. The same ideologues that said their top priority was to make Obama a one-term President will hopefully see how far that got them, and be more willing to come to the table and make realistic offers.

2) People set up a firewall vote about marriage equality and reproductive rights. 

Four out of four states (including my home state, Maryland! Woooo!) either supported marriage equality or rejected state constitutional amendments to define marriage as between a man and a woman. The reverses a trend of anti-equality ballots, and could send an interesting message. Also on the list of things that split heavily against Republicans were two big names who came out as being ignorant-at-best and anti-womens'-rights at worst, Todd Akin and Richard Murdock. They're the proud owners of the "legitimate rape" and "God intended rape-borne babies" statements, and voters turned out in droves to tell them where to stuff their opinions. These two factors taken together could signal a warning to surviving conservatives that running on social issues such as these is political suicide- and if that does end up being the takeaway from this election, that could have enormous ramifications in the culture wars.

3) Puerto Rico voted to become a state.

No, really. They've apparently voted this down two or three times before, but this time it passed with a 61% majority. I know nothing about the pros and cons of accepting another state into the union, but at the moment it's being drowned out by MSNBC's congratulatory orgy and FoxNews' sob-fest, so I figured it needed mentioning.

So what comes now?

Well, there's that whole automatic tax-increase and spending-cut thing that comes up this winter that needs dealing with; we've still got beef with Syria and we're still at or around 8% unemployment. There's no shortage of things that need work. But, what I plan to do personally is write to my state's national House and Senate members, be they Democrats or Republicans, and tell them to work together. I will tell them that I'm mailing their counterparts across the aisle, saying the same thing. Because now that this whole battle is over and done with, we have too much to do to keep saying "Well, he suggested it, so in the interest of increasing our potential wins in two or four years, I'm voting against it". The hyper-partisanship needs to cool.

"A 50/50 race, it doesn't get much closer than this."

No, Wolf Blitzer, it doesn't get ANY closer than that. 50/50 is as close as it gets.
Allow me to put aside my eye-rolling at Mr. Blitzer's filler speech and look at what he's talking about.

Predictably, he's talking about the Wisconsin Recall. For those of you who don't know, here's the long and short of it: The Governor of Wisconsin, Scott Walker, made waves by balancing the state budget at the cost of Union power. This angered many people, who organized and decided to try and recall him. That angered many other people, who organized and decided to try and save his job. Today was the recall election, and the polls just closed. Unsurprisingly, the exit polling stands at a dead heat.

The born-and-bred liberal in me wants to cheer for this attempt, especially after some sources say that Republicans have outspent Democrats 10:1.
(I'm too tired for citations tonight, so this whole post is hearsay and opinion.)
But the aspiring moderate in me says, this dude might have been able to bring his state out of the red. In an economic recovery as fragile as ours, isn't that an amazing thing?


Its a confusing back-and-forth, at best. Pros and Cons for simplicity.

Pro-Walker
On the one hand, dude looks like he managed to balance his state's budget. This is a great thing for a state to do, and it comes at a time when other states (and private households alike) should spend more time balancing their budgets. His state is now reported to enjoy a surplus, which means everyone that works for the government will get paid on time; public works projects can be funded, and taxes don't have to increase. That leaves more money in the hands of the workers, public or private. Further, Unions have gotten way out of hand with their rules on Tenure; if a Union worker sucks balls, but has Tenure, firing them is a legal nightmare. That wastes money and produces a lower-quality product.


Anti-Walker
 On the other hand, gutting the Unions could lead to weaker-paying jobs, since Unions help raise workers' salaries through the power of collective bargaining. Removing the Unions' ability to demand dues (Walker made such dues voluntary, rather than mandatory for Union membership like they have been historically) takes away the ability of these groups to remain operational on the scale that they have been. This reduces the odds they can rally their troops to get what they want; so, if a factory wants to lower wages to save money, there's less chance of a strike. Lower wages means less consumer spending, which kills industry in the long run. Also, without any serious challenge to big business, business-friendly (and consumer/environment-unfriendly) laws are more likely to be championed in the halls of legislature, lowering the quality of life.

And these are just the most simplistic arguments I could come up with off the top of my head.
Point being? Don't fall into the trap of "I'm a Liberal/Conservative, so I'm anti/pro-Walker". I promise you, with an issue this complex, dumbing it down to that sort of a party-line vote is exactly the sort of partisanship the nation doesn't need.

Rest is for the Dead: Atlantic City Edition

May 31, 2012
5:25- After a hard day of un-crazy-ing the crazies, I get into my car. I am heading back East for an extended weekend of family and friends; two nights in Philadelphia and Atlantic City, two days at home with my folks. As it has been six months since my last trip, I am feeling well overdue for such a vacation. So, with a smile on my face I start driving down to Indianapolis.

6:10- It has occurred to me that I might have fucked up my packing. Investigating my suitcase on the side of the road, I discover that I have packed two suits, but no dress shirt; a bathing suit, but no sandals; tee shirts, but no shorts or jeans. I have also forgotten my iPhone charger, and I have exactly zero condoms (Hey, it always pays to be prepared). This does not bode well.

6:41- I fly through security like I'm some kind of young white male or something, and I decide that I'm hungry enough for a burger. I grab a seat at Champps and order. Flight leaving at 7:10? No problem!

6:44- This might be a problem.

6:55- I have essentially swallowed my burger whole, but my waiter (who is now aware of just how strapped for time I am) is being intentionally slow bringing me my change. After the gate calls for "all passengers on the flight to Baltimore" a second time, I realize I cannot wait any longer, and I abandon my $20 on a $9 burger. I got to eat exactly two fries. If, by some unfathomable coincidence, you are reading this and you know the waiter I'm talking about, kick him in the goddamn balls.

7:23- No sooner are our wheels off the ground than the baby behind me begins screaming as if she'd just been forced to pay $20 on a $9 burger. But as eardrum-burstingly loud as she is, I can't decide if the more annoying sound is the baby herself, or her father talking to her in a baby voice. "Daaaaaaddy's patting!", he says in a coochy-coochy-coo falsetto, burping her as best he can, "Mooooommy's patting! But we neeeeeed moooooore power for BLAAAAAASTOOFFFFFFF!"


7:39- The baby has been knocked unconscious by her father's voice, some unknown medication, or possibly by my sheer force of will. Assuming it's the third, I begin writing out an appropriate cover letter to the Green Lantern Corps. Do you think you start such an application with "Dear Sirs" or "To Whom it May Concern?"

7:58- I find myself in an unenviable position. The speed at which I ate my burger, combined with the pressure changes at 30,000 feet, and the soda I just pounded have caused a chain reaction in my stomach similar to Mount Vesuvius. There is a belch bubbling up in me from the depths of my very soul... and I am sitting next to one of the most attractive women I've ever actually seen on a Southwest flight. I'm talking like, this burp could actually destabilize the fuselage of the airplane, and I have to hold it for another... half hour? Forty minutes? This is not good.

8:13- Nope, I am no longer able to hold back. This beast is making itself known to the world.

8:14- I let out a belch of such force that people in the back of the plane think we've been hit by a surface to air missile. This, in turn, wakes the baby- but this time, Daddy doesn't have any quiet words of comfort to reconcile what I just committed upon innocent bystanders.

9:30- I have, in fact, landed safely and made it home. Mom brings home dinner, but I take a moment to visit where they buried my cat about a month ago. She was very old, and fortunately didn't go through much pain, but I still feel guilty for not being there for her. So I take a knee and say my proper goodbyes.

9:40- The Rents and I spend some quality time ranting about politics and why Ron Paul is an idiot.

12:00- After determining that Ron Paul is, in fact, still an idiot, I retire. The real show begins tomorrow.

The Case of the Phantom Trolling Gall Bladder

"So... you're saying that you used to be thirty pounds... heavier."

A counselor is judged on their ability to regulate their own emotions and reactions. If everything that happens in your client's life sends you into the sort of hysterics that they're in, you're not helping. If you're always laughing along with them, you're not staying on topic. And if your patient is looking to get a rise out of you and you take the bait, you can expect more of that garbage in the future. You have to train yourself to be able to take anything that comes out of their mouths and respond in a way that is best for that client, while still being true to yourself. Sometimes, this means hearing them out when it is literally impossible for you to care less, and usually, I'm good at keeping myself well-regulated.

"Oh, yeah! After my gall bladder got infected I was just sick and leaking out every hole in my body. Couldn't eat anything more than crackers and Gatorade. I lost a lot of weight."
"But, you..."
"Mmm?"


...Usually.

"Oh, nothing. It's just that you're already three inches shorter and at least fifty pounds heavier than your profile stated, and I just drove fifty miles down to this damn city to meet up with you. Now you tell me that you're still this big after you lost the ability to eat fatty, greasy foods- and you're not even really a red head?"


At least, that's what I said in my mind. What actually came out was this:

"Nothing. I forgot." And I looked back at the TV while she ate whatever it was she was eating. Damn my inability to be intentionally rude.

---
Now then! Just what the hell am I talking about, and why am I being a hypocrite about bigger ladies? Fear not, dear reader, there's a reason for my apparent flip-flop. First, allow me to explain what I'm talking about.

A buddy of mine recently met someone on a dating website. He will not shut up about her. While I'm happy for him, it did get me thinking about internet dating as a whole. And while it can go very right, it can also go very, very wrong. So, while he continues foaming at the mouth about his aforementioned strumpet, I decided to write about some of the dates I've had that resulted from online encounters.
Now, let me defend myself. I stated in a previous blog that there is no need to be ashamed of your form if you're naturally a bigger girl (the same would hold true for dudes I suppose); you just have to know yourself, take care of yourself, and rock what you've got. I said there was a STARK difference between a bigger girl with some bodacious curves and someone who would just get eaten by the pack of velociraptors first. The girl I was stuck on a date with was not only poster child for the latter, she'd outright lied about it by posting pictures from years ago that depicted her as a far thinner (read: actually attractive) redhead. But she didn't exactly make up for it in conversation either.
---

"Look at those two guys running!" She said, as we were stopped at the light coming back from our meal.
"Mmm," I agreed, happy to be focusing on anything except my date, "The one guy is totally dusting his buddy." It was true; I assume they were together because it looked like they were wearing similar team-themed shirts, but the thinner guy was half a block farther than his clearly-winded companion.


"At least he's trying, though," she said, and I nodded.
"Yeah. Better to be practicing than to say 'aw fuck it'."
"Yeah. I never run, actually."
"No?" I ask, my eyes veritably rolling out of my head.
"Nope!" she said cheerfully, and grabbed her breasts to give them a good squeeze. "It's these things right here."


Had she really just...? "You don't say," I said, even though she clearly had.
"Oh yeah!" She giggled and accelerated from our now-green stoplight. "An extra fifteen pounds just floppin' around up here. Some people ask me if I give myself a black eye with 'em. But nope! I just don't run."


---
Now, if you're Tucker Max, you might know a funnier way to respond to this than I did. If you're Richard Simmons, you might know a way to turn the conversation into a morale-boosting kick in the pants to get physical. And if you're this guy... well, if you're that guy, you're ridiculously photogenic and you probably don't need OKCupid to get a date. But I digress.
Who talks about that sort of thing on a first date when the other person is clearly not interested? Who talks about that even if they are? Are we goddamned barbarians? You've got to keep it classy, everyone. There's always going to be a degree of awkwardness on a blind date, but you're putting your best foot forward.

The Avengers and Why We're Living In the Future

So, I just got home from watching The Avengers. And first of all, if you haven't seen it yet, do yourself a favor and go see it. Whether or not you're a fan of superhero movies, you will like this film. Without making this a post about the specifics of why it is awesome, there is a reason it is making as much money as it is. So, go see it. I'll wait.

...

How'd you like the movie? Awesome, right? Sweet. Let's get into why we're living in the future.

I make this argument a lot- usually when some new technology comes out and everyone is fawning over it. I say this most often when people make changes to their cell phones via WiFi, and the example that I use most often is a story about the zoo. A friend of mine and I were at the zoo one day, and we wanted a picture of a tiger, but the big cat was lounging too far away for our cell phones to really get a good shot. No problem, says I, and I quickly pull up my app store and grab a free camera zoom app. Within sixty seconds, the camera on my phone can now zoom close enough to get a decent picture- not just enlarging a pre-existing small picture, mind you, it actually zooms. I accomplished this -this fundamental alteration to the nature of my phone- without plugging in to a computer, for free, in less time than it took for me to type this paragraph.

So, what does this have to do with The Avengers?

In the movies previous to this one, especially Thor, the idea is proposed that some of the "magical" aspects of the various superheroes (again, mostly Thor), are actually super-advanced science. This theme of science that borderlines on the arcane is repeated again and again throughout the Marvel universe: Tony Stark can build a fuel source that provides more energy from a generator the size of a baseball than a conventional coal plant could ever hope to output; Bruce Banner turns himself into a nigh-invulnerable, unstoppable force of anger and rage; Captain America becomes the ultimate soldier at the peak of human physiological development; Scarlet Johansson is hot. All miracles of super-science.


"Don't forget about Hawkeye, Dan!"


For better or worse, the real world doesn't have Tony Stark or Bruce Banner running around to solve all our problems. But that doesn't mean we aren't cracking into the realms of super-science, ourselves. Take, for example, the ITER- or the International Thermonuclear Experimental Reactor. Slated for a commercial debut of somewhere between 2030-2050, a fusion (as opposed to fission, big difference!) power plant such as this would revolutionize the way we think of energy. Or, if power plants ain't your thing, consider a helmet that the Army is reportedly developing that could read your brain's activity and compose messages from it- essentially, a telepathy helmet. Or, hey, apparently James Cameron feels like blowing up asteroids to mine their sweet, sweet metallic-rich cores.
This is all besides the fact that while I was typing this, I downloaded a new music album to my phone while I Yelped where I'm going to get dinner from, while video-chatting to my parents.

If we can just... not blow up the planet for the next 50 years or so, I firmly believe that we're going to be staring down the barrel of a glorious super-science future.

Obama Out of the Closet for Gay Marriage

So, earlier today, President Obama said he supports gay marriage. Simply put, these are my thoughts.

First of all: this was politically motivated. Coming on the heels of North Carolina’s state constitutional ban of gay marriage, Obama wanted to shore up some support from his base- support that has been lackluster by many accounts. I believe that he made the determination (correctly so) that a lot of the people that would hate him for supporting gay marriage were also people that weren’t going to vote for him anyway… but that a lot of the people that would appreciate his support of gay marriage were people that might be less likely to vote or donate if he didn’t support it. “My views are evolving”, my ass; he waited for the right time to drop this bomb, and saw an opportunity here.

Second, he was not boxed in by Joe Biden. Uncle Joe might have his “Big Effin’ Deal” moments, as well as a horrendously awkward introduction of another Head of State, but he’s not going to paint his boss into a corner on an issue this big. He was the man on point for this issue. I’ve no doubt that he honestly believes what he said about being comfortable with gay marriage, I just believe that his job was to channel that belief into a pragmatic political strategy, stick his neck out and gauge the response. Since there wasn’t enough vitriol spat at him, the plan for Obama to voice his support after the NC vote went forward.

Third, things are going to get ugly. And I mean UGLY. This is one of the biggest battle lines in American politics, and it gets people pissed. Those who support gay marriage have long been without a big-name champion; now they have one, and as far as champions go, you don’t get any bigger name than the President. With presumptive-nominee Mitt Romney still coming out against gay marriage, people have their figureheads to rally around. Expect woefully inaccurate attack ads from both sides in all 50 states. Expect a firestorm.

Fourth: this is, all in all, a good thing. If you’re against same-sex marriage… then, I’m sorry, but you’re simply wrong. Allow me to support my position with some handy bullet points, now with 15% fewer calories.

The “research” that says it’s terrible is wrong, wrong, and wrong some more. The idea that kids do better in two-parent homes is correct- but it doesn’t matter which sex the parents are. They just need good parents.

The idea that marriage is something that needs to be defended (by straight people) is ridiculous when nationally, just about half of marriages end in divorce… and is doubly absurd when the states that resist gay marriage the hardest are also the states with the highest individual divorce rates, highest rates of teenaged pregnancies (and the higher rates of teenaged marriage... and divorce). That’s some high and mighty instiution you’re defending, there! (Get off your self-righteous horse, Southern States.)

The idea that it’s against the Bible or God’s Will for the nation or something- tough cookies. There’s that whole separation of church and state deal. (First Amendment; "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof". It means the government can't pass a law giving preference to any one religion or it's opinions. Not even yours. So essentially, whatever it is you interpret God's opinion to be on gay marriage, it doesn't matter; the issue has to be handled based on its mortal, non-religious merits.)

And lastly, people sure don’t want Big Government getting involved in their lives… until they do. You can’t have it both ways, kids. Either tell the government to GTFO as a whole, and let each state decide… or, have the government come in and accept the results on a national level. But you might want to have Uncle Sam make a ruling on it quickly, because as time goes on, you might not like the results.

Obama’s Failed Economic--- Waaaiiit a Minute!

Mitt Romney has shut up about this issue specifically in recent weeks, and wisely so, though he still bashes the stimulus as a whole. The bailout of the American auto industry was at best an incredibly risky maneuver, and if it hadn’t have worked even a little bit, you can believe that conservatives would have crucified the President on this one. The fact that even the spin machines have gone silent about it, though, shows pretty clearly just how successful it was. Let’s break this down by company.

• Ford: If you’re a George R.R. Martin fan, you could go so far as to call this automaker Dorn; they are the only of the Big Three to remain Unbent, Unbowed, Unbroken. For those of you unfamiliar with A Song of Ice and Fire, this means that they are the only of the major American automakers that were able to survive the economic crisis without a government bailout. Their brand is down across the world but it’s rising in the States, enough so to offset the other losses. They earned just over 20 billion in 2011, cutting their debt from the past year by about 6 billion dollars and eliminating a tax allowance they’d been given to help them out back in 2006. (Why is a special tax reduction not considered a bailout? Not sure.)
• Chrysler: Uncle Sam shelled out 12.5 billion dollars to keep Chrysler afloat, and of that money, 11.2 billion had been repaid as of July 2011. We’re still out 1.3 billion, but that’s because the automaker actually did too well. Apparently, the government expected them to take until 2017 to pay everything back, and so they set up an interest schedule to match that expectation. Because Chrysler paid the people back too soon, they saved themselves interest payments later on. They just went on to quadruple their quarterly profits over last year’s quarter, putting up a whopping $437 million dollars in the bank- their best quarter in over a decade. They’re on track to post 1.5 billion dollars in profit over the course of the fiscal year, which will be up from 183 million last year. For those of you following along at home, that’s about 8.2 times what they made last year. That’s kind of a big deal. If it means that Chrysler is doing that well, especially considering that during times of $4.00+ gasoline its most popular model is a fucking truck.
• General Motors: GM appears to have had the slowest recovery of the Three. (Their information is also hardest to find). Their increase in stock prices has helped evaporate another 2 billion of the government’s bailout losses, but apparently they’d have to double their worth from this point to completely clear what the American people are out.

The politics of money are always tricky, because you can’t have two side-by-side economies to study in which one gets the bailout and the other one doesn’t. Because of this, economic policy might be one of the most spin-prone areas in the national discussion, as one side can say “The recovery would have been twice as bad without the bailout!” while the other one screams “It would have been twice as good without it!”. Both provide legitimate-sounding statistics from both biased and impartial-sounding sources (if they cite their sources at all, but that’s another rant).

Nina Easton, Mayor of Wrongville

It’s scheduling week here at the hospital; the twice-yearly week long exercise of figuring out which classes go where on the master schedule of my wing. We were fortunate in that the planning itself only took a day, but now we have the rest of the week to finish paperwork, write new course descriptions, and so forth. For me, this doesn’t take too long, and so I was left enough time at lunch today to check out what was going on around the internet. And that is when I found this op-ed.

First of all, let’s ignore the fact that the author, Nina Easton, is a conservative. I’m not a big fan of the “They disagree with me, so they must be wrong” mindset that has infected my country in years past, and so I try to combat it whenever possible. For instance- if she’s worked for Fortune, the LA Times and the Boston Globe, she’s probably at least fairly on top of her game. So don’t brush her off just because she happens to be a conservative talking about the virtues of “The 1%”.

Nope, we’re going to assume for the sake of this post that Ms. Easton is a purely non-biased reporter, speaking her mind without a political agenda behind her.

And we’re going to assume that  she’s unbiased because if we don’t, and we believe that she’s just a conservative mouthpiece, then her writing is immediately as invalid as Glenn Beck’s or Keith Olberman’s.

And we’re going to assume that she’s unbiased, because even if we do, she is still completely wrong.

Ms. Easton’s article is based on the same tired assumption that a lot of conservatives have been making, and that is that the furor surrounding the One Percent is based on jealousy. She bases her fifth paragraph on the notion that people who’re mad at the mega-rich want their money stripped from them and moved into their own community, like they want President Obama to swing in like some governmental Robin Hood to give the poor their due.

But I don’t think that’s what this anger Easton complains of is about. People want larger salaries of their own, but I don’t think they want someone else’s money. This isn’t about being angry at someone because they’re successful, it’s about being mad at someone because they became successful at the expense of their workers. CEOs that continue to take enormous bonuses immediately after laying off some percentage of their labor force. Finance moguls who profit by cheating their clients and then escape any significant punishment. These seem to be what the “99%ers” are really upset about.

“But there are communists at the Occupy rallies that want all the rich to hand over all their money!” Yes, and there are Secessionists at NRA rallies that still talk about preparing for the inevitable war between the government and their local “militia”. Spare me your generalizations about the Occupy Communists and I’ll spare you my vitriol for your Rambo Wannabes. There are crazies at every rally.

But I digress. I’ll counterpoint my own argument: CEOs taking huge salaries and bonuses.

Global finance is fucking complicated. I’m personally of the opinion that monetary sums in the neighborhood of the trillions-of-dollars-mark is actually imaginary, but some people are smart enough to actually finagle this possibly-imaginary system to produce real-world results. People that can do that do deserve big salaries, because if they don’t get paid, yeah, they’re gonna go find someone who’ll shell out the cheddar to please them.

But. Just because John Q. Employee doesn’t understand how the price of grain in India affects the rubber trade in South America, that doesn’t mean that he deserves to get the axe so his boss-of-bosses can get another couple thousand on their bonus check. When this happens to one person, or in one company, its unfortunate… but the now-jobless employees could just go get jobs elsewhere. When this happens on a national scale and becomes the status quo, however, people become embittered on a national scale, and that bitterness becomes the status quo. Don’t act so goddamn surprised that people are up in arms over the super-rich when it seems like every CEO is doing this.

Earlier on than this, she states in her third paragraph that “The 1% club stands accused, accurately, of more than doubling its share of the nation's income since 1980. By 2007 it controlled nearly 24% of total income, the second highest in history, after 1929. (In 2009 its share dropped to 17%, suggesting that recessions aren't necessarily kind to the rich.)”

This is not an argument I would make if I were trying to draw support to my point of view. The richest 1%’s collective bargaining power dropped from ONE QUARTER OF ALL AMERICAN WEALTH to just a paltry SEVENTEEN PERCENT? Boo fucking hoo. If I were her editor I would have deleted this paragraph from her entry so hard the computer would have exploded. I would have then taken the ashes and thrown them into the goddamn sea, just so nobody would ever read what Nina Easton almost perpetrated on my point of view.

Easton states in her fourth paragraph that “Railing about the 1% club has become shorthand for expressing outrage not only over growing income disparity but also about the state of the nation's working class.” I would agree with that as a one-off statement, but since it isn’t a one-off statement, it can only be viewed as the most accurate thing Nina Easton has accidentally said all day.

She notes in her sixth paragraph that Wall Street bonuses have dropped “18,000, or 13%, to $121,150. It is the second lowest average in the last eight years, topping only the $100,850 of 2008. This estimate tracks cash payments and doesn't include stock options or other forms of deferred compensation that haven't been realized.” Again, this is not something I would say out loud if I were trying to assuage the malice directed at the One Percent. A bonus of $100,000 is still nearly four times what I make as a salary, after taxes, and I sure as shit don’t get stock options.
Again, my job is different than a Wall Street suit’s, but as long as we’re comparing, I’d like to see him swing by my unit and handle some of our boys. Just sayin’.

She does make some good points; she states that there are some legitimate reasons why the One Percent are making so much freaking money these days, such as technological advances that allow companies to globalize in ways that simply were not possible even twenty years ago. (Her comparison is to a performer in the 1600s. I'm not sure why.)
She also cites the fact that womens’ salaries are rising, and she states that if you take a random well-paid One Percenter male, odds are he has an equally educated female counterpart in house as well. With her salary on the up and up, she claims that it’s only natural for the rich to become richer without any devious dealings going on- and on the face value of that factor, at least, she could be right.

But unfortunately, while she’s right in isolated pockets, she’s wrong on the foundation of her article. Like so many others, she falls into the trap of thinking that this “populist rage” is based on jealousy, and not out of our observation of how warped the system is in favor of the rich. She touts the belief that the rich are faulted for their success, and fails to even acknowledge -no, outright denies- that the rich have become as successful as they are in large part by exploiting their workers and clients. That’s where this “populist rage” is coming from (which, I’ll add, wasn’t generating a peep of protest from conservatives when the Tea Party was the new thing, but that’s another rant). I’m not trying to defend Occupy as a movement, as it is largely a worthless endeavor these days, but the underlying sentiment?
That isn't going anywhere.

Modesty Is For People Who Suck (Some Links NSFW)

"Modesty Is For People Who Suck" is a line that I came up with a couple years ago. I find it funny that I’m the one spreading it around work, and it’s a bit of a joke to me- but in other ways, it isn’t. I decided to write about its underlying components of confidence versus conceit today, through an examination of the portrayal of womens’ sexuality by the media.

I don’t think I’d be causing anyone to double-take if I informed you that a lot of fashion outlets tend to base their ideal of beauty around a slender figure. Runway models have been stereotyped as under-eaters, bulimics or anorexics for years- often with a fair amount of truth behind it. If you look at any female-targeted weight loss plan, many of the “after” pictures have women that have gone down to a size 2, if not a size 0.

The fact that there even IS a “size zero” is ridiculous in my mind. Zero implies a lack of value; a complete absence of whatever it is you’re measuring. Even the most emaciated waistline still has some size to it, and therefore, it cannot be zero. Claiming the size of a dress as such is baffling to me- claiming that you’d aspire to be that size, or the implication that you should be that size, is even stranger. Your waistline should be non-existent? Give me a break.

Anyway, I’m getting off topic. My point is this: Confidence has a lot to do with how someone looks. That’s not going to change any time soon. But, it also has a lot to do with how you perceive yourself to look. Change your perception, and even if you don’t shed a single pound, you can believe that you look better. This, in turn, can make you carry yourself better (after all, if you think you’re hot shit, why wouldn’t you? You’re hot shit, after all)- and when you carry yourself like you’re worth a million dollars, other people are more likely to treat you better. At the very least they’re typically less likely to mess with you, because someone who is self-confident is less likely to put up with heinous bullshit.

Enter the small but growing plus-sized movement. This is a movement you might have seen here and there; Glamour had a cover a while back with a bunch of “plus” sized models without Photoshopping, or you might have stumbled onto the Curve Appeal Tumblr, or any other venue that extols the bigger girls. These are good things, in my opinion, because they instill confidence in a group of people whose confidence is more likely to be somewhat eroded from the constant assault on their forms that the media hits them with.

It instills confidence- but not conceit.

There’s a big difference. Confidence is knowing who you are. Confidence is knowing your path and walking it, demanding equality when it is due, and doing your thing with swagger even when the haters go and hate. Conceit, on the other hand, makes you believe that you are better than everyone else, and it makes you believe that you deserve special treatment.

The “plus size is awesome” movement doesn’t go around telling girls that they’re better than skinny girls- which is what a lot of fashion outlets have been telling their readers, albeit in reverse; that skinny is better than big. The plus-size movement has been telling girls that they are at their best when they look like they ought to, not when they try to mash their bodies into a shape eight sizes too small. Is there a difference between being a big, curvy girl and being legitimately unhealthy in your size? Of course, and people need to be real with themselves; if you’re lazy and eat like shit, or if you have a glandular problem (or whatever else), you need to take extra care of yourself. But that’s not what we’re talking about here.

We’re talking about confidence, which could be summed up by the line, “A little swagger is a good thing”. A buddy of mine used to say that. “Modesty is for people who suck” represents conceit, though I say it jokingly (usually). So keep your swagger, people, be you male or female, size 0 (ugh) or size 10.

Why Queen Elizabeth Hates Holidays

11:20am- I wake up after a fun night on the town with a buddy of mine. After asking my plants how they slept, I move them back onto my balcony and wish them a good day.

11:28am- The bamboo and the oregano are arguing again, so I move them to opposite sides of the balcony. Personally I think the oregano started it but I don't want to take sides.

12:45pm- I lose a couple rounds of video games to mouth breathing 13 year olds. I disagree with their assessments of my sexuality and of my mother. I review the merits of introducing my mouse to the inner workings of my monitor. I decide against this- barely.

1:40pm- I begin writing this account. By now it is occurring to me just how little there will be for me to do today, as tomorrow is Easter and therefore nobody will be around to hit the town tonight. This disappoints me, and so I begin filling the day with things such as balancing my finances, laundry, and eating breakfast.

1:42pm- I have finished balancing my finances, my laundry, and my breakfast. This does not bode well.

2:02pm- My situation has deteriorated to the point where I am considering playing Warcraft.

2:03pm- I play Warcraft.

2:04pm- I remember why I stopped playing Warcraft for 3 months.

2:59pm- After being tricked into joining a Tough Mudder team, I get an email stating that team practice is today. An opportunity to embarrass myself in front of my team? Count me in!

4:02pm- I finish saving my terrible friends from their own blind fumblings through WoW, and grab a bit of lunch. I start imagining all the things that a Mudder team practice will include. Given the fact that my team is both comprised mostly of beautiful women, and our team is (apparently) going to compete in the Least Clothed costume contest, I'm confident that today's dry run will include an acceptable lack of modesty.

4:11pm- I receive a text from our team leader that practice is actually canceled due to everyone bailing- because of Easter. My dislike for family holidays grows.

4:21pm- After my team leader tells me what I already know (that nobody is around to hang out with, but Happy Easter!), I decide to go for a run. I tell the potted hanging fern to make sure that the plants on the deck don't get into it again, and I hit the bricks.

5:39pm- I return to find the basil pot knocked over. Its undamaged, but I have my suspicions. I move it inside and start trolling the internet.

5:47pm- Success! One of my lines comes back with a fish. A friend of mine is heading out tonight. I might not have to forsake human interaction this weekend after all!

7:23pm- A second friend of mine claims interest in causing trouble. Given their two natures, I begin considering how worth it a charge of Criminal Mischief would be on my record. I decide that this would be very worth it, and I celebrate with a quick round of Civ 5.

8:00pm- I, Queen Elizabeth, have given the Danish Empire the business. They, meanwhile, are decidedly out of business .

9:00pm- I get dinner and a shower. Can't be running around town like a raggamuffin, after all.

10:50pm- I have now watched Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. I have reassessed my earlier position; the two robots who can't read might be racist after all. What I have not done, oddly enough, is met up with either of my two friends. This strikes me as odd because after both specifically told me they were going out, they decided on a "radio silence" approach to the conversation. I begin to suspect that they have either been killed by Decepticons, or that they are Decepticons. Both of these possibilities seem plausible, and I begin barricading my apartment for the inevitable siege.

11:35pm- I have now triumphed over my foes as Akali, the Fist of Shadow, and all of League of Legends trembles before my name. Still no word from the Decepticons; they probably saw my game as observers and were like "FUCK we ain't messing with THAT guy, did you see how he gave those pixels the business? It's like he's Queen Elizabeth or something!"

11:38pm- I have given up and changed back into my gym shorts for the rest of the evening, deciding to at least finish that bottle of white wine that isn't going to get drank any other day of the week.

11:39pm- In the spirit of Easter, I first fill my glass with water. "And now for my NEXT trick!" I announce to my apartment (which is empty, other than the Transformers movie (which is on again for some reason) and my plants), "Ka-CHOW!". I then empty the water and re-fill it with the wine, declaring that I am the Savior reborn. My plants, which have seen this trick before, are not impressed. Oh well.

Happy Easter.

News Flash: Old White Man Yearns for Victorian Sexuality; Film at 11:00.

I recently read this article on CNN, and I felt that I should respond. For anyone who doesn’t make the jump, the author, William Bennett, states that a “hookup culture” hasn’t resulted in happiness and that the place to find real fulfillment is in marriage. He goes on to say that “deviant” sexual acts such as bondage debase both men and women, and that such things are not what the feminist movement of past decades was fighting for. He makes the point that novels such as “50 Shades of Grey”and similar TV programs support the subjugation of women, and he finds it odd that during a time when such an uproar is going on about the “war on women”, that so many women would be buying the book so fast the stores can hardly keep in on the shelves.

Bennett’s first and most obvious mistake is that the women that take part in this sort of relationship don’t like it.

Now, allow me to get the necessary PC disclaimer out of the way: We’re not talking about domestic or sexual abuse. We’re talking about relationships between two law-abiding, consenting adults.

That being said, he’s making the assumption that the women involved in relationships with such sexual activities as a “room… full of chains, clamps, whips, canes, flogs and cuffs” are there against their will. He relates once again the story of the female protagonist of 50 Shades, bemoaning how she turns from an innocent girl to a “sexual submissive” for some corporate suit-type guy. He completely ignores the possibility that the girl enjoys feeling dominated specifically within the context of that exact sexual encounter. I’ve never read the book, but considering he’s generalizing from the book to American culture at large, I don’t need to know the whole plot in order to say this: It’s possible, that with the girl acting as a representative for all women in America, that she leaves the “Red Room of Pain” and goes on to kick ass the next day at work. Maybe she’s a high-powered exec too. Maybe she’s a cop or an EMT, or some take-no-prisoners politician who goes to the mats for her constituents. She could be an amazing teacher pursuing a career in the administration of schools, a small-business owner who just recently expanded, or a Marine.

My point is, Bennett assumes that her desire to be submissive and dominated in the bedroom with this particular guy (this might not (and probably isn’t) with all guys, either) means that she’s got some desire to be submissive and dominated outside the bedroom. And that just might not be the case.

Second of all, and this is almost as bad as the first point: He seems to be making the assumption that the only people who like to be dominated are women.

I invite anyone who believes that previous statement to take a casual jaunt around the video-hosting website of your choice and do a search on BDSM. How many of the people being worked over are male? A fair number of them? That could be because some people like being hit with a whip. Some of them are female, and some of them are male. Some people like hot wax, being tied up, or being stepped on with heels. Everybody has a kink- men included.

So, those are the first two assumptions that he makes, but they are not the worst. In my opinion, the worst assumption that he makes is the third one- that “hookup culture” is not only bad for women, but bad for society as a whole.

The very article he quotes when grimly warning us that “women are no happier than they were in the 1970s” says, and I quote,

…How bad are the heartaches, anyway? According to New York University researcher Paula England, the war stories about the hookup culture are greatly exaggerated. The average college student has about one hookup a year, and most people end up in a long-term relationship at some point in college. Beyond college, women are much less vulnerable to assault than they have ever been, according to a 2011 White House report, largely because they have more power to leave bad relationships.

This is, to put it simply, not an issue of what is damaging to American society; it is an issue of what is damaging to Bennett’s perception of American society. He’s not the only one with such views, I’m sure, but for him to come out and say that he believes we should take more of a lesson from Victorian England (and when I think of healthy sexual expression, that’s the time period I think about) is so absurd it’s laughable.

He does, of course, stick in his obligatory jab at the LGBTQ community by stating that the deepest sexual satisfaction comes from traditional marriage, and slips a literary eye-roll in there by mockingly calling the term “derisive”.

In closing, the one thought I was left with after reading this article is, “MAN that dude needs to get laid.”

Fistfights and Spades

"You'll wake up, thinkin' you have an XBox, but you won't have shee-yit."

So begins another hand of Spades at my job, as a patient informs me not to trust the patient sitting across from him. He continues to enlighten me that the second patient is a no-good snake in the grass, and the second patient responds by telling him in no uncertain terms that it is his belief that the first patient's genitals are of questionable size and effectiveness. Once again, I find myself telling both of these gentlemen to kindly shut their faces and play the game. Once again, I have averted the apocalypse- though I'm already preparing myself to do it again, as I'm fairly certain the first patient is cheating.

I'm even more certain that the second patient is on to his tricks. Three minutes later, my suspicions are verified, and I calm them down again.

This is a fairly calm night at my hospital. There've been a lot of easy nights recently; we haven't had to break up any big fights and nobody's tried to sever their fingers in a door jam. The staff and I are thankful for this lull, even though we're always half-cocked for the other shoe to drop. That comes with the territory of working at a state psychiatric hospital- you have to establish a good rapport with your clients while always being ready to dodge a punch or an errant flying chair.

People have asked me how someone can work in an environment such as this. I get the feeling that they view psychiatric hospitals as so

mething akin to, well... this:

I understand their trepidation. It is not an exaggeration that the guys I work with are quite literally too violent for other hospitals and/or too crazy for prison (though more often than not, they're just a bunch of lambs... at least, for us). But equally concerning to my companions is how I manage to deal with all their emotional baggage. And there is a lot of baggage to deal with; without a doubt, the men in my hospital have some of the worst life stories I've ever heard. So how do I keep from playing bellhop, and taking all their baggage home with me?

The answer is my litmus test for whether someone should pursue a career in mental health. There isn't anything I do to keep their issues out of my personal life; I just naturally and automatically compartmentalize work and home. I can intellectually think about their cases while I'm hanging out around the house (not that I would, but I could) without it ever effecting me. And that's not because I have any awesome command of self-discipline... I just don't give a shit about patient drama, once I leave the hospital parking lot.

Its rare for someone to start out with that capacity, especially in my field; I remember quite clearly feeling compelled to hit the bars in grad school specifically to dull the pain of what I'd heard that day in my internship. I was frequently joined by my classmates. But, you could tell the people who were "supposed" to be in the field from those who were not by who kept hitting the bar to forget after the first month or so. Those who were cut out for the field adapted, and their skin hardened on its own. Those who didn't adapt usually dropped out of school.

So, I post this not as a beating of my own drum, but as a roundabout answer to the question of "How do you deal with all that pain?".

You deal with it the way an umbrella deals with the rain. You get rained on a lot but you let it roll off of you.

And you learn to play a lot of Spades.

Running Tests on Seashells

I finished Mass Effect 3, yesterday. If you haven't played this, don't read on. Here lie spoilers.

I've played both Mass Effect titles previous to this one, and I did so knowing that my choices would effect my game play later down the line. Even way back when the original came out, I saved the Rachni Queen so that she could come thundering back and kick some Reaper ass for me. I reprogramed the Geth dissidents because they seemed like a misunderstood bunch, because the Quarians seems kinda shifty in their explanations regarding the Geth, and because Legion is just a monstrous badass. I turned down Miranda, Tali, Liara and Jack so that Sheppard would get back together with Ashley; I was in this game for the long haul, and I played this way expecting to be rewarded. I expected that, as a result of my long-term planning, I'd be able to kick the Reapers up and down this galaxy and right back to whatever shithole they were sleeping in.

And then...

Mass Effect 3 happened, and I see that all my work was essentially for nothing.

But y'know, it isn't even so much that the three endings of ME3 were garbage in and of themselves by virtue of how wholly unsatisfying they all were- its that they didn't even do the player the benefit of making basic sense.

Allow me to explain.

This entire time, the point of the Mass Effect series has been a sci-fi, contemporary American spin on a more traditional Lovecraftian theme; that there are forces beyond our control, that we are utterly powerless against, and that fighting them will do us no good. Enter Sheppard, this personification of willpower, chance, and a sheer refusal to die. He alone threatens to upend a galactic cycle that has gone on uninterrupted for millions of years; somehow, out of all the myriad races and individuals that came before him, he (or she) alone has that special something that makes the impossible, possible. He is the antithesis of everything the Reapers stand for; where they are inexorable order, he is improbable chaos. Where they are crushing despair, he is impossible hope. Where they seed distrust and suspicion, he brings cooperation and unity. That's the Sheppard we've been playing, be (s)he Paragon or Renegade. That's what the message of the Mass Effect story has been- as we see our own world becoming seemingly darker and darker, just as the ME universe sees theirs, there are people who absolutely refuse to give in to odds that should have ground them to dust years ago. And, that it is these people that we should aspire to emulate.

It's a powerful narrative, to be sure. And while it is in the form of a video game, remember that non-traditional forms of media such as games and graphic novels have really stepped up their storytelling in recent years. Sure, pretty pictures and being able to pilot tanks helps sell copies of the comic or game, but a lot more energy is devoted into the storyline of games, these days. And Mass Effect's story was one of the best in the business.

So. Here we have that level of immersion, that quality of setting and storytelling. Here, we finally had Sheppard poised to make the galaxy safe once again for Mom, Baseball, and Apple Pie. We'd sunk another 30-40 hours searching every star system, collecting every last ounce of war material. We had every fleet and all our old surviving friends signed on. We shot the shit out of the Reapers orbiting Earth, we made it through the ruins of London and into the Citadel, and...!

...The game's plot suddenly 180's and makes becomes all about whether or not organic and synthetic life can life together?

Uh...

...

What?

Never mind that the three endings were garbage, each one just a different-hued version of the others. Never mind that there isn't any explanation about what the hell happens immediately afterwards to the galaxy at large- such as, how do the various races deal with the fact that they're trapped in Earth orbit with no Mass Relays to get them home? Or just where in God's name did Joker crash-land the Normandy?

Never mind any of that- those issues are their own cans of bullshit.

The biggest failing of the Mass Effect franchise was that its ending missed the point of the game. It took the theme of despair versus hope and changed it into inter-species relations. It changed philosophy into politics.

And they didn't even show us a worth-a-damn picture of Tali's face.

The fuck.