Topic: Posts

I had, until a few moments ago, recently been very keen on trying to make my computer last as long as possible. It does what I need to to, I can’t really complain, and new computers are a lot of money, particularly when apple is on the cusp of new models.

And then my “r” key and the “tab” key flew off my keyboard.

I take this as a sign from the gods. I’m going to wait till I find a job and/or there are good new laptops from apple, because while I’m more partial to getting a linux laptop than I have been in the past, I think I’d be much more pleased by either: getting something like the Asus EEE PC (rumor has that there’s going to be a new faster one in a few weeks) and/or something in the cloud that I could SSH into¹

Anyway. I looked at the Apple website for the first time in months and I realized something: The MacBook Pros, are finally worth the extra price again. If you assume that the difference between a 2.4, 2.5 and 2.6 ghz Core 2 Duo processor is basically academic (which I think it likely), for about 500 dollars you get: a much nicer screen (quality), a bigger screen, more powerful graphics, a firewire 800 port. I mean, these are the historic differences between the models, but usually the difference in price is more like 1000 dollars.

But this post is supposed to be about what I’m thinking of doing. I recognize that you can get replacement keys for about 9 bucks a pop, but upgrading is pretty inevitable, and desirable at this point.

Given this, my upgrade scheme/options are:

1. Wait till after the next major revision of the macbook (con: white/black) or the macbook pro and get it. And then continue as I have for the past few years to use it as my main/sole computer. Not a bad option. I’d probably lean toward the pro, if this were the case. 2. Get an iMac and either a MacBook con or an Assus EEE pc. This puts the focus on my at home computing, and while I’d still be mobile, I wouldn’t be as at the drop of the hat mobile. 3. Get a macbook pro and figure out some way to organize for some sort of server-type at-home computer that could grind through the stuff that isn’t laptop suitable: media center stuff and the like.

Two is a radical departure from my established usage patterns, and thus sort of unlikely. And even though my keys are beginning to strike wholesale, I’m probably still going to wait until august or november before I upgrade for real.

Anyway, there’s a weekend brain dump. I’ll see you later, and around.

Here’s another post in the vein of “what I’m thinking about this new site and why I’m interested in doing it.” Another excerps from the interview I did with myself.

I hear that ideas are thick on the ground, and follow through isn’t. To the point that I’ve heard people talk about follow through as *the* quality of a writer. What are your thoughts on this?

I’ve stumbled across people (mostly Mur, I guess talk about how ideas (for stories, but all kinds of creative ideas) are thick on the ground, but that the real magic of being a writer is “follow through:” getting ideas into words. Everyone who reads has ideas, pretty much, and it’s easy to say “wouldn’t it be cool to write a story with telepathic goblin-zombies fighting post-singular AIs around titan looking for the ruins of an ancient civilization there, except it’s not on Titan, because Earth got too hot after the sun turned into a red dwarf…” and somewhat harder to actually write the story. Or at least it requires a greater time commitment.

And for some reason, the proposition that ideas are thick on the ground and that all ideas are equal save the energy put into the execution, is, I think, not entirely true.

I for one, am not particularly good coming up with ideas. Aside from just being silly and pulling out “wouldn’t it be nifty if…” scenarios, in the entire time I’ve been writing, which for the purposes of this question is years and years, I’ve come up with like three setups/worlds for stories and like four plots. I might be minimizing slightly, but not much. I almost never come up with new ideas, unless I say to myself “ok, self it’s time to come up with something new,” and even then I get something even vaguely useable.

At the same time I think follow through is incredibly important, so I think the main thrust of the argument is solid, even if it does leave me with a sort of bad taste in my mouth.

On(ward and) Up(ward)!

I present you a question from an interview I did with myself about the more personal angle of why I’m starting a new site rather than work with some other project or seek traditional publishing.

Why is it important for you to be working and publishing independently?

I’ve been writing fiction pretty much in a vacuum for, well, a long time, on the assumption that maybe if I edit hard enough and keep trying, maybe I’ll be able to submit something eventually and get published. Which might have been true, had I had some more effective way to “beta” my work, been not sixteen when I wrote the first book, if the publishing industry were in a different place. Etc.

Now it sounds like I’m making excuses, and maybe I am, but it strikes me that even if god flew down and handed me the best book deal in the world, I’d probably still have to have a day job. I even sort of want a day job of some kind (I like the structure, and pace, given a lot of circumstances in my life at the moment.) While having some sort of publishing sponsor would likely get me editorial support (g-d, how I yearn for thee) a bigger audience, it’s an iffy proposition and so the debate ends up being: do I start regularly publishing my own work (like I intend to do with this new site that I’m cooking up) or do I continue to work in isolation with faith that it’ll probably work out in the end?

I think making (science) fiction prose work online is probably the next big thing, which is to say that it’s already underway. 365Tomorrows, EscapePod, Tor.Com not to mention Podiobooks are all forays into this sphere (as it were) and as exciting as all of these ventures are, there is something totally invigorating about doing this on my own.

I’m not saying that I don’t want support, nor am I saying that I’m conceiving this new site as something that will be excessively me--quite the contrary, if it were just me, I could probably orchestrate it entirely out of tychoish. But I very much treasure the possibility and opportunity to give this a go on my own terms.

For those of you keeping score at home, I’m chugging along for a mid/late June launch. I’m probably about half to a third of the way done with the logistical work, and I want to get a stronger habit formed before I start, but it’s very real and coming quite soon.

I said I’d write a post about why this ale was amazing, and why I love these gatherings. Some of the readers of this site are also morris dancers and so will “get” some of the things that I talk about. If you have another “thing,” just unfocused your minds eye, and extrapolate these memories to your favorite annual gathering. I just got back and read posts about the Men’s Spring Knitting Retreat, which I know a number of you all were at, and I think these were similar sorts of events.¹

This post is just a series of anecdotes of events and connections, with minimal amount of musing.

There were a lot of people in my general age cohort: 18 to 27. We were the heart of the after 3 am dancing, and that was generally a lot of fun. One person is, though a friend from a morris dancing context, someone who I’ve spent a not-insignifigant amount of time with outside of dance. All this makes dancing so much more fun. I remember once when he came to visit me at college (where I didn’t dance much, and didn’t talk much about dancing except in)

I remember one time sitting around with these folks and just talking about normal people things, and thinking, “I like you all a lot.” And it was good. We had sort of congregated on a massage table that someone had set up in the corner of the dining room and were helping each other stretch and it was very nice.

These gatherings aren’t the kind of thing that’s sustainable long term, like it wouldn’t work if it were longer than three days every year, but that’s ok too. It’s a situation where lots of sort of transcendent experiences are primed to happen, and too much of it, and you don’t realize how special it is.

I’ve been to the past seven of these gatherings (which have been going on for 27 years I think), my mother has missed two of them--including (most importantly for this story,) the last one. I should also subtitle that my emergency-back-up-mom (Hi Judy!) goes to these as well, and we’re all on the same team, etc. etc.

On the first night I asked someone to go get my mother (who was in the women’s buck room) and she went looking for Judy. Which embarrassed her terribly, but the rest of us found very funny. And it happened to my mom a couple of times, where she’d say “my son does so and so,” and they’d ask “who’s your son?” and she’d say “tycho,” and they’d be surprised, because they clearly thought that my mom was Judy. It happened in reverse a couple times as well, which I was equally amused about.

Steven’s Joy of Six+: I got to watch this absurd but truly amazing moment of dance.

This typifies one of the things that I so adore about this weekend: it’s so clearly about having fun and dancing for other dancers.

Like getting the opportunity to dances that my team doesn’t do, for fun. While people were concerned about “getting it right,” it was never as if you were being judged for getting something wrong.

Like, when Steven’s team did splitters and turned their baseball caps backwards/to the side so that the bills wouldn’t interact as they leaped toward each other, everyone knew what that took.

A woman at some point had her knitting out and I was admiring it and this guy who is a great dancer, with a lot of experience and reputation was sitting near by and asked if I was getting a lesson, and I said, “oh no, [pause] in fact, I’m a way better knitter than I am a morris dancer.”

“And you’re a pretty good morris dancer,” he said. (This meant a lot to me.)

I shrugged. I think it’s fair assessment. My mother agreed with my judgement of these things.

There were a couple of “new” people that I adopted and encouraged, and it felt really good to play this role. There were a couple of girls that I would push to get into dances, even if they didn’t know them, and I think they got up and did dances (and enjoyed them) that they wouldn’t have done without encouragement. That’s a good thing.

Two years ago, I had a minor dehydration issue. It was really hot, and I didn’t drink enough fast enough, and I’m skinny and a sweat-er, and it was hard to keep up, and I wasn’t paying attention. So I was pretty vigilant this time, and ended up drinking 5-6+ liters of water a day, which was almost enough. I only had a few hours where I fell behind.

There was a new person who started to look a little wilty, and I asked her if she was drinking water, and she said something, and I knew it wasn’t enough, and I was like “if you’re not peeing regularly, you’re not hydrating enough,” (good rule of thumb, by the way) and it was just a funny moment, but helpful.

Also, late at night, one of the dancing powerhouses (to my mind) looked all red and distracted during the lead up to a dance, and I leaned over to a friend and said, “B. looks dehydrated to you right?” The friend agreed and after the dance was over we called him over to us, and were like. “Drink water. Now. Don’t pass go.” It helped, he’s fine, and he even reported on it thankfully to my mother.

Part of the reason why these weekends work so well is the pervasive feeling that everyone has your back. It was nice to be on the giving end of that for once.

Even though the weekend is about dance, there are lots of great singers and lots of opportunities to sing. There’s a regular late night singing, which is sometimes fun, but there are also little ad-hoc moments where singing happens. Places where people congregate in a corner under a low ceiling, and sing favorite songs in folksy harmonies.

There were a couple of moments that stand out:

• Underneath the great hall of the Nebraska state capital, there’s a low dome and everything is marble. We sang “Let Peace Prevail,” and “We are a People,” by Robert W. Service (and Steven) set to music by David Perry, and a couple of other songs that were vaguely protest songs that I don’t remember. I got to see a number
• In the corner outside the dorm rooms, we sang “Rolling Home,” and something else that I also don’t remember. I was in the middle of this little cluster standing next to two basses, and it was divine.
• At the Sunday morning shape-note sing, I sang a song, and I got it. I don’t shape note much, and I’m not particularly good at it (circle = sol, square = la, triangle = fa, diamond = mi? Right?), but for the first time I sang and got it, and I could see and hear all the parts and how they worked.
• There’s this song that I think of as being sort of schizoid, in that the chorus sounds like it’s from different songs and the verses don’t really jive, but the most recognizable line is “let union be in all our hearts / let all our hearts beat on as one,” and we sang it once and I it was just right.

Good moments.

One of our stops “on tour” sunday afternoon was at a museum, where we were basically dancing for ourselves, and somehow, I got to do a dance with a team that I absolutely adore. It’s also to the tune that Peter Bellamy set Kipling’s “A Pilgram’s Way,” (and thus the dance is appropriatly titled “The People’s Dance”) and it was a great pleasure and an honor to be able to do that.

At these ales--if anyone who doesn’t go is still reading--there are a list of dances provided and taught ahead of time that the group can do as a whole (Mass/ed Dances). Most of these are accessible dances picked from a limited repertoire, but most years there’s a more piquant dance, in the mix, which can be a lot of fun. This year it was, probably, my favoritest dance of all, one called “Queen’s Delight.”

Earlier in the afternoon, I had danced it with an amazing dancer from the women’s team in the twin cities, on a little stage like platform, and long story short, she misjudged, on the last and climatic portion of the dance, and almost fell of the stage. Luckily she wasn’t hurt (there was a doctor in the set, who took over her position and finished up the dance for her). though she had a broken bell pad and a nasty bruise, and that afternoon when they called the dance again, I was standing next to her and said “we need to finish this right.”

End result: I was thrown into this set with hotshot dancers. And it went off perfectly. Well maybe not perfectly, but all mistakes were recovered, and it was almost zone-like. At the end one of the people in the set--who is amazing--said “best dance/set at the ale,” and that felt really good. It was so much fun.

Last year, as a commentary on a pub-stop where the only dancing area was behind a pool table in an area not suitable for real morris dancing, I instigated a skit where we did (I should say that morris dancing is most frequently done in sets of 6) a single set of a dance with 12 people dancing six positions, two layers deep.

I threw around the idea of putting on the same skit only for 18 people (3 layers deep,) but we tried it at a pub with 14-16 people, or so and it totally wouldn’t have worked out.

But, the notion of doing dances this way, with “shadows” totally did catch on, and we tried a lot of dances this way at night, and it was a lot of fun. Durring one dance my shadow, lost me as I surged through a hey, and I heard him from the other side of the room say “hey, where’d you go,” and then saw him run out of the corner of my eye, around the outside of the set to catch up with me. It was funny, trust me.

The truth is that it’s a lot of work to shadow someone. Because you have to go the long way around curves to end up at the other side behind them, and you have to move fast.

There is also a class of figures where, facing across from someone, you pass by one shoulder, slide to the left or right behind them, and pass back to your original spot on the other side. We call this “back to back,” but it’s the same basic thing as a “do si do” in contra dance (do si do, is apparently a corruption of the french for back-to-back, so yeah, same thing). Anyway, when there are shadows this figure with 4-6 people involved, is hilarious.

Strangely it all seems to work out just fine.

That’s all that I can think of right now. I’ll return to normal posting and working on things tomorrow. Thank you for your patience.

Onward and Upward!

I have returned from a really quite amazing morris dance ale, that is an annual gathering of morris dancers that I’ve been going to every year for the past 7 years. Wow.

I think I survived this one in better shape that I have the past few ones. I’m in slightly better shape. I’m utterly comfortable in these situations. The organization of the event was a) not my responsibility, and b) amazing. Everything worked and worked perfectly, and I had a blast.

Having said that, I don’t have much of a voice left from too much singing, but also probably most importantly calling dances, and I have a bum knee.¹

I also have a lot of really great stories, snippets, and memories that I want to collect in a longer post, as I remember and collect them. Keep your eyes peeled.

I also got a call back about what would be an ideal job. Day long interview next week. Rock. More details as they prevail. I’ve got slacks and a good jacket. I’m debating a tie. This would be really good.

Stay tuned. Regular posting resumes soon.

I just wanted to post a little note.

First of all I want to thank you all for the birthday notes. It’s great to hear from you, and it was great to hear from so many of you. Thanks.

I’m out of town, and likely completely out of touch starting tomorrow morning blindingly early until Monday afternoon/evening. I’ll be at this, and it’s an event that I never take a computer to, so I won’t have anything meaningful to say to you until then.

I’ll probably be harping on this for a while, but I put out a call on the twitter (with an offer of a beer, in compensation) for “Virginia Woolf Steampunk” stories. This is either for deritive Woolf fiction with a steam punk flare; or with better luck, Woolf as the heroine of a steampunk story. My friend Sam Tung posted the first, on facebook, I think though it was close, but Miss Violet had a good one as well.

I’d love to hear more of these stories folks… Keep them coming. Maybe we can do a collection?

Anyway… Have a good memorial day, and even though I plan to have a blast at my thing, I’ll confess to being a little jealous of the folks who are going to WisCon and Balticon. Enjoy, and I want full reports folks.

Overheard this past week:

“I think because queers (guys specifically) mostly don’t get a chance to be teenagers--with the flirting and the sex experimentation and what not--when they’re actually teenagers, we spend a lot of time after we’re teenagers fumbling through our love lives acting like teenagers even though we know it’s not right, because we have to get it out someway,” I declared. My discussions with C. about of our romantic woes often began with broad decelerations about sociological phenomena.

Strangely this was comforting.

“I don’t think it’s a queer, thing--I sort of feel like I’m in the same place. I think that’s how everyone who was nonsexual in high school deals with their twenties,” she asserted. C. is often right about these things, but I don’t have to like it. I propose some theory of the nature of queer life, and she asserts that it’s more universal; almost always true, but far less exciting/original that way.

“Remember how I used to call you ‘almost queer,’ and you used to laugh at me for being absurd?”

“Yes.”

“This is what I meant.” I stare, but there’s probably a twinkle in my eye. She laughs, and I feel relieved, Making C. laugh is something I donate a lot of energy to.

“It’s like we all have teenager to get out of our systems--” C. begins.

“--and it takes forever because we know we should be beyond it by now.” I finish.

“Imagine how awesome we’d be now if we got laid in high school.” C laments.

Now I’m laughing, “I think it probably has less to do with the sex and more to do more with the flirting and crushing and all that good old trial and error romance stuff that folks do when they’re young.”

“Probably.” C. says after a moment. “So, speaking of what did our mututal crush say to you this time.”

“The usual,” I say, and roll my eyes. “G-d, I wonder how did I seem so together when we were in college,”

“Eh, it’s not him is it?” C. is uncanny.

“Ok you can stop being psychic now.”

And I wonder why there are entire journals devoted to queer studies sometimes. Actually come to think about it, I’m sort of writing a paper on this subject. I like how even in my absence from academe, where I’m trying to relax and refresh as much as possible so I can build new connections and foundations when I get back to it in a few months/weeks, everything still seems to be connected.

Also while this conversation reflects--more or less--an actual conversation, it’s a format (albiet with more science fictional elements) that I’m playing with for a new project that I’ll probably launch sometime this summer. Does the ultra short, potentially serial, format appeal?

I mentioned last week that I had been thinking about getting a new set of headphones for my birthday, but I managed to fix the cord on my old headphones in a spectacular sort of way, and came to the conclusion that I only have one head, and didn’t need two sets of headphones.

I have a similar sort of story from a few days ago…

The astute among you will notice that I’ve been at least a little interested in getting my act together to do a podcast for a while. I’ve done radio before, I’ve done some sound engineering, and it would be cool to bring these experiences together with my internet/blogging/reading fascination. I think it would let me interact with a larger/different audience, and it just seems like fun. I’ve also avoided doing a podcast for a long time because I’ve always felt that my poor old computer was too overburdened and the cheapish USB mics that been able to try out all sucked to my ear¹ I’d and a litany of other excuses.

Anyway, I thought I’d solved my problems with the discovery of this a pretty nifty digital audio recorder, with good mics, which makes up for what it lacks in ruggedness with versatility, and economy. I figured that if I didn’t really need to do anything other than upload the file with my computer it could handle it.

I should interject that at the moment, I’m most interested in doing a podcast in the school of cory doctorow, which is “turn on a mic, and record for 20 to 40 minutes and then post it on the internet.” Anyway, I thought a portable recorder would be the ideal situation for this sort of problem…

On a whim I hooked up the USB mic--that I had tried and failed to use for years--to the computer and…. Hot damn. It worked. Really well. This my friends, is why accepting for wool, books and tea, I don’t really get much new stuff. I always manage to make the old stuff work. Even if I do like toys.

So nix the portable option, I’ll--when I have time--and it’ll be a few weeks, I’ll probably begin putting together a podcast… Nothing formal, and at the moment it’s a second string project, but it’s on my mind, maybe it could be on yours as well.

So there’s this book of knitting patterns called “classic knits for real women”

I am naturally hesitant to get behind a book that’s pres<>upposes some notion of “real womanhood,” right? but this book has middle aged women on the cover which bodes well (white, admittedly, though it’s a British publication from a pretty rurally located company).¹

And the designs look to be simple, non-fashion designs, with a traditional edge, with good yarn, and what not: I think they’re using “real” in contrast to “couture fashion model,” which is a heart warming development.

On the one hand, the language kind of sucks, and on the other, I’m thinking rock on sweaters that people can wear.

Thoughts?

Hah. Today is my birthday. I seem to have made it through another year.

As an interesting side point, I think I got through 21 without using the privilege to buy buy alcohol at all, though I was carded to get into music venues and the like a few times. Just kinda funny.

It’s been a tough year, I’d say on the whole. The graduate school rejection--to mention nothing of the utterly painful application process. Some frustrating and long-lived knitting projects. Employment has been erratic and frustrating. The blog has been really fun, and while I did get back into writing this year, but I think both suffered as I was dealing with school crap. Having said that things are starting to look up.

But the great thing is that things are feeling more and more together. I’ve been writing a little, basically whenever I can get a free moment for the past week. I have a job at least till the end of August, and I have a long range plan that looks like it might just work. Can’t argue with that.

I think “Onward and Upward!” is particularly fitting in this circumstance.

For a long time I’ve dedicated a certain degree of energy in trying to looking older, because it’s useful, because it’s fun to pass, because I could. I suspect that uncovering all of the reasoning behind that one is beyond the scope of this entry. In any case.

I’ve realized, both by watching people out in the world, and by looking at the mirror, that for the first time in a long time, I basically look as old as I feel. I think. Actually as I type that I’m a little worried that I think I’m a bit younger than I am, because when I see people that I don’t know who are probably about my age in their natural habitat, I almost always feel younger.

In any case, I think it’s going to be a good year. It better be.