The EPK Manuscripts

Time-Rays

2007-04-19T19:59:00.000Z

Than used to have a watch which he wore for a whole decade. He was really happy with his watch, it was his watch and he wouldn't change it for another, even though its face had cracked and he'd had to change the strap a few times along the years. But one day I got him another one, which was just like it, but new. Not just a new watch, but a new model of the same Casio one, with exactly the same functions but a new, 00s design. As he's said in his own words, it's like a special time-ray shone on his old watch and made it 'new'. Like magic. And that's exactly how I felt when I saw the new Command and Conquer game.

I remember playing the old ones 'back in the day', mainly because it made me happy, back then, that my father would get involved while I played, and thought of strategies and how to best get past the level we were on while he was with the 'other woman in his life' that I was so envious of, his work. In fact, I could never trade that phone call I got from him, while he was at the office, to tell me that he'd thought about how we would get Tanya, in Red Alert (yes, the first one), to do what we needed her to do, for anything in the world. Yes, it may sound crass, but a passion for strategy and micromanagement was always one of the things the two of us shared, even back then when we didn't share much else.

And imagine my awe when I saw the new Command and Conquer game, so many years later, when I hadn't played a strategy game on the PC for many a year. I actually became interested in it because of its damn FMVs (that's Full Motion Videos, for you gaming acronym illiterati), made fresh by casting actors like Michael Ironside, Lando Calrissian (yes, that's actually his official name by now), Josh Holloway (that's Sawyer from Lost) and some of the cool Battlestar Galactica cast. And going back to the whole FMV thing in the year 2007 was one thing, which they did in fact go about the time-ray way.

But what actually impressed me, enough to rant about it here, is the mere specifics of the gameplay, which have remained exactly the same, only with 'current' versions of the visuals. The same setup, only its 2007 version. Little 3D models of the troops etc where they should be, moving how they should move, with the 'way of thinking and playing' behind them remaining constant, and the only thing that's actually changed is what your computer's graphics card and general processing power can take now.

And all this made me feel like time is irrelevant. People are people, underneath it all, no matter how much time has passed, how many new things are invented or discovered to change it all. I'll still be a girl who grew up remembering a moment she shared with her daddy, whether it be a PC game or trout fishing that brought it across.

Po-Mo Emo

2007-04-16T09:54:00.000Z

...or Meta-Emo if you will, but it sounds less pretentious without the alliteration. And it's only fitting to have a po-mo title for a meta-po-mo post.

So, this is how it goes: Than woke me up with this song today, called Emo Kid. It's by two guys (a band) called Adam and Andrew, and it's all about, well, an emo kid. At first, I thought it was a Liam Lynch 'fake song' kind of thing, but then, as I was listening to the lyrics, I realized that it wasn't - it was not his voice singing them, now, was it? So, no, it couldn't be the same guy, and thus it couldn't be the same kind of art 100%.

And I asked Than if he'd seen the guys, if he'd heard any more of their songs et cetera... What I was really asking was if, in fact, as I'd kind-of-guessed, they were what I have now, as you've discovered, decided to call 'po-mo emo'. If they were actually emo kids themselves, in a way, which had delved deep enough in the whole emo culture thing to look back, almost introspectively, and wrote a song (songs, in fact, as I later discovered through their myspace, where I found this song and others in the same general 'culture' theme, as well as photos that seemed quite emo to me) that was really indicative of the culture that they were describing there. And, as you can see for yourselves, they do describe their band genre as 'Comedy/Emo/Rap', so, yes, they do know this for themselves.

And they're not the only band that does this, obviously. Not just for emo, but every genre/subculture has its own band(s) that have gone off and embraced what they love and have been 'schooled' in enough to go about it in a 'meta' way and even make this their 'schtick'. And good on them for doing so, from where I stand.

Polarity of Narrative

2007-03-20T20:33:00.000Z

(Warning: Contains Battlestar Galactica spoilers)

I've been thinking about narrative conflicts lately, what with the whole 'power shifting' thing - and especially with the latest ventures of one of my favorite TV shows, Battlestar Galactica, which is currently trying to give a 'Mein Kampf' feel to Gaius Baltar's position within the ship's politics and all.

And I was thinking about narrative conflict. Two sides, A and B, whether they be a single person each, or a whole party - army or otherwise - against another, both of which have conflicting views on a subject which concerns them both. And there really can't be a modern narrative of any kind without any sort of conflict, we all know that I suppose.

But what I actually realized, based, again, on the whole Hitleresque/misunderstood hero portrayal of Dr. Baltar, which gave some credible arguments to his side of the debate (the 'am I the worst man alive or not' debate, that is), is that - since, as I have advocated, there are always two sides to any given point - every villain can be a hero. 'Turning that frown upside down' is an easy thing to do on any given subject if need be, and narrative oppositions are always stronger, methinks, if each side has a valid point of view on the disputed matter but you, as a viewer, are forced to choose a side.

And in this debate, the Gaius debate, it seems like the only thing that's keeping us on the side-which-is-not-his is the fact that he used to be the straight-cut villain in the old series on which this one was 'loosely based'. A series which was as clear of narrative moral debates as, it seems, was typical of TV series coming out at a time like that, in the days when 'men were real men, women were real women, and small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri were real small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri', and for some reason that was considered a good thing. But it is such debates that make me 'enjoy' a story, struggles and conflicts that make me wonder about the nature of the world around me and about the human mind and society, that make me think and hence feel, well, a little bit smarter.

So, give me my plot-lines convoluted, please-thankyou. Apparently, it's what gives me the kind of adrenaline rush that only an overdose of shades of gray can.

Geek Out On Camera!

2007-02-28T14:02:00.000Z

Yes, this is about the NPN Theory again...

Go watch it if you will, then send me a short video of you and/or a friend stating your views on ninjas, pirates and/or Nazis in films, and/or on the theory itself, at NPNtheory at-screw-you-bots-symbol gmail.com until the end of June or so.

Yes, that's the same theory about how the appearance of ninjas, pirates and/or Nazis instantly makes a movie more entertaining. And yes, we're planning to make a 'real' version of it this summer, rather than the sad excuse for a documentary on a cool idea we made in the first place due to time restrictions and stuff. And yes, it certainly will have as many and/ors as this post.

So, be an angel - or at least a nice person - and send us your stuff for our inter(net)views section... We'll say thank you with a big smile.

The Five-by-Five Pyramid, or whatnot

2007-02-27T15:29:00.000Z

It seems to be an unofficial mark of success for anything that starts off in Greek nowadays, that it ends up being approached in English as well, right? So, as you can probably see in the comments of the post below - that's if you bother reading them - or if you follow the 'pyramid' at all, I was approached concerning a game, of sorts, which requires me to mention five facts about myself, then nominate five more bloggers that would do the same. And, obviously, I would have to fit this concept in with the pretentious, navel-gazing style of my own blog. So, here goes...

1. I believe in shades of gray. I may have mentioned this before, but it seems to me - and I must consider myself an expert of sorts on the subject of 'myself' - like a fact that would describe me and this 'ere blog like a charm.

2. The three men I am allowed to go to bed with, without asking Than first, are Joss Whedon, Brian K. Vaughan and Jon Stewart. Screenwriting, comics writing and just plain TV. The funny thing is, they're all married, as far as I know - isn't that delightfully ironic?

3. Three is one of my lucky numbers. Me believing in luck, of course, is just me following a social convention, which can be fun, and draws on the human tendency of finding patterns in random things. Just like participating in such pyramids.

4. That said, I also believe that the world somehow makes sense. I'd have to believe that, to avoid going mad and all... I believe that scientific thought is a very good way for humanity to chase this, but I still believe we must have faith in the Universe and the way-too-complex-and-unfathomable ways it works, which we are probably unfit to comprehend, barely able to stand in awe of, and still a part of.

5. I love Than. I really do. You might have already noticed, if you're one of the... three avid readers of my blog, but, almost five years along the line, I sometimes need to reassess the ways in which I do, the kind of judgmental, non-supportive and impatient bitch I can occasionally morph into.

And now to pass the ball on. I will now proceed to make my choice out of the very few bloggers I know of (*drumroll*)...

I choose Tyler of US TV, first and foremost, because he's my favorite blogger this side of Mars, and because I'd love to see how he'd manage to fit the premise of the game in with the excellently concise TV theme of his blog.

I choose FloppyKat of What'sTheMatterBaby, 'cause I love her too, although I haven't had the chance to make her life hell yet, and I hope I won't. Her blog idea is cool as well, and it would also be fun to see her take part in the game.

I choose Oneiros of Non-Linear Complexity, 'cause he's a pretty decent thinker in my book, and I was just recently reconnected with his existence.

I choose Konstantinos of cpil.info, mainly because he's already been tagged and won't have to bother with the whole thing (is that cheating?).

Finally, I choose Nikos Dimou, officially the smartest man of his age in Greece, in my book, because, hey, I thought it would be worth a try, even if he ignores me, which he most probably - and rightfully - will.

Ess-Tee, with a Double Jay!

2007-02-26T13:32:00.000Z

I have, throughout my life, hated Star Trek with a passion. Hated its passionate fans, hated its convoluted, technobabble-infested world view, hated the fact that, socially, being an officially acclaimed geek, trying to openly accept everything cultural that's loved by someone, I was supposed to like - or at least accept - the damn thing. And, most of all, I hated the fact that some people I admire had contributed to it creatively - like Harlan Ellison, for one, the man who always finds the way not to allow me to admire him.

But now, it's official: there might be hope for my relationship with the Star Trek universe. JJ Abrams, the one man who's able to show me why it's OK not to care about the 'real world' when watching something made up, allowing me to suspend disbelief and actually enjoy what I normally take as daft narrative conventions, is - officially, at last - going ahead with Star Trek XI.

I think it's going to be released just for me, just to make amends for all these years of wondering why I can't like Star Trek, even after acknowledging its 'good points'. Just for me, I tell you. And if there's anyone out there who's able to set things up so that I can be allowed to like things I've gone on hatred rants about in the past, it's JJ. Like he did in Alias or MI:III, not explaining things too much, not trying to justify his approach, just going along with it, in a way that told you 'I know what I'm doing, don't worry, it's the way these things are done. It's cool, it's fun, just sit down and enjoy it!'

Oh well, it's Star Trek's last chance, for me anyway. If this man proves unable to help me let go of the prissy look I have learned to instantly acquire towards the Universe every time it's even mentioned, there's nothing else, I gather, that will ever let me. But, for now, I'm giving him a chance over that part of my soul and offering him temporary free reign over it. Frankly, it feels like opening your mouth for the dentist, letting him do his thing and hoping it won't hurt.

And the Oscar goes to... the year 2007!

2007-02-26T13:11:00.000Z

It's official. 2007 is the year when everyone officially gets what they're officially due. Martin Scorsese is now an Oscar-winning director, just like I was afraid would never happen.

I imagined him walking on the red carpet, 98 years old, there to receive his 'Lifetime Achievement' tosh, just because he'd have to. Too little, too late and all that. I sincerely imagined that was the way it would go, even after he made a film where all the classic Marty directorial trademarks were featured, even highlighted. I imagined it was named 'The Departed' for a reason.

For some reason, 2006 had me convinced that 'it's just not worth trying'. That the Powers That Be made no excuse for anyone - heck, I was sure that life made no excuse for anyone, that when you'd failed at something, that was it, you just had to learn to live with it.

But, up to now, this year, barely two months old, has shown me otherwise. Personally, socially and culturally, the moral of the story is that persistence pays off. And what's ironic about this is that the one who made me realize is the man who 'made my man want to be a director', as cheesy as that may sound. Marty winning a golden statue is a perfect symbol for the Duck winning my heart.

And, of course, him winning for The Departed, whilst not being departed himself yet, is the perfect middle-finger award to said Powers That Be.

(and here's where I'm supposed to whine about Children of Men almost being ignored by the Oscars, but what the heck, I must keep my hopes up, I must follow the teachings I was taught, I must still have hope...)

Polygamy is the new Gayness! (?)

2007-02-26T04:11:00.000Z

Yes. I called it.

Once upon a time, like back in the 50s or so, it was just impossible to live your life being gay. You couldn't tell your parents (or friends) about your same-sex partner, you couldn't live your life with them, kiss them in public or whatnot, and most of all you were constantly in danger of 'racist reactions' (read: being beaten up or even killed because of your choice in life).

Now things have moved on in that respect - yes, there is still some prejudice going around, you can't really deny that, even in countries where same-sex marriage is allowed or at least considered. But you're automatically 'taught' to accept it, you're a close-minded sob if you don't. Literature, support lines, parades... So many things are on your side, and chances are that your friends and family will 'understand' if you come out to them.

So, now, the new sexual choice that would mean you're too embarrassed to share it with your own, even if you personally know there are higher emotions aplenty involved, even if you go to all the trouble a member of a 'regular' relationship would be supposed to go to, even if you face matters with admirable maturity, is having more than one partner. Whether or not a 'gay relationship' is part of this and whether you have a single, 'important' 'main relationship' and other minor ones around it or you simply have more than one 'serious partners', you're most probably the only one in your social group who's 'into that kind of thing'.

Arguably, monogamy is not the 'natural way to go' for human beings. And, arguably, human beings are supposed to be able to control or even overcome their raw instincts, drives and urges. But how is this supposed to work in this case? There are people out there able to live happy lives with, and respect and love, more than one people. But in all probability, they won't go out to a work party and go 'these are my two girlfriends'. Not unless they're going out to impress their pals, or they're prepared to accept weird looks for the rest of the night.

There's a long road ahead of anyone who's pledged their heart to more than one person, or anyone who sees love and sex as two different, unrelated things. I just believe, and hope, that in a few decades there'll be polygamy pride parades marching outside our window - hopefully with something less tacky than a rainbow as their sign.

Academic Boxing Match

2007-01-26T06:41:00.000Z

I have just barely reached the end of my latest fight with Academia. It was bloody, I received many blows, but I apparently survived.

Round One involved a 3000 word essay I had to write on a course that went by the name of Representation and Identity, i.e. how minorities of all sorts are allowed, and expected, to use the fact that they belong to a specific minority, and not, in fact, to another one, to read films in the ways they choose to. It dealt with the ways in which they can be happy, sad, relieved or offended by ways in which people whom they consider to belong to a similar social group are seen - as understood by them - to be portrayed in specific films.

This course content itself was strike one. How do you study the self-evident? How can you avoid just writing stuff that would 'please the teacher' enough to get you a grade, without filling the essay with cliches that have been in people's minds since they had such?

So my counter-blow was to select a topic myself - we were allowed, nay, suggested to do so - and started by selecting films I had actually watched and enjoyed, ones which were recent and which actually could be found offensive to a social group, yet could easily be seen as important for the group, sociologically, in a good way. Specifically, I selected Heavenly Creatures (1994) and Chasing Amy (1997), directed by Peter Jackson and Kevin Smith respectively, dealing, of course, with the lesbian social group, just because the first sees the fantasy side behind an actual, real life murder and the other realistically deals with the fallacies and complex-driven beliefs of the allegedly open-minded.

So I managed to feel some nominal passion about the two-sidedness of the subject, which could be read in totally opposite ways, and to make it relevant to me because I actually liked the films I was writing about.

Round Two was a 6000 word essay, accompanied by a 2000 word study log, for a course called Special Study: Blockbusters. What scared me here was not the required length of it - I write about all sorts of Blockbusters in forums and such all the time - but the amount of research involved.

This was a course where we were required to select our own subject within the general topic, so it was, at least, an interesting fight. The lectures - which only 15 people that really proved they wanted to do the course were allowed to sign up fo and whose lecturer treated with extraordinary care and affection - were typical of the 'cool and fun' image I would have of film school before I actually started, talking about subjects that interest me in an interactive way. So during the second lecture I was handed a list of highest grossing films, out of which Sam Raimi's Spider-Man (2002) caught my attention and allowed me to finally write about how he would manage to still be Raimi within the production givens of the Blockbuster world. Fun.

But the blow was the amount of work that I realised would be necessary, in order to write something about what you 'thought you knew' in a way that proves that you actually know, and don't just think or assume so. Back-referencing and learning about other people's views on sub-subjects I would deal with, from the auteur theory itself to how it relates to Raimi, from the idea of the Blockbuster director being treated as a star to how this doesn't necessarily mean that he was 'used and abused' but actually allowed him to make it, partly, an actual Raimi film. Reading books that belonged to me and I could underline, and others that belonged to the library and I had to fill with post-it bookmarks. Finding websites that could actually be referenced and sorting through them in a way that could relate to what I was to write. And then sorting it all and fitting it into a general outline of the point I was to discuss, the order I would mention them in, and how much space within the 6000 words this would allow me for each.

So again, I did it, and lived with the constraints of time and space - not generally and philosophically, this time, but with regard to the hand-in date and the length that was allowed. I officially went on to state, in my research log, that, yeah, since you made me read all this and churn it in my mind for a couple of months, there was so much more I had to say and so many questions I hadn't been able to answer. I outlined all the aforementioned process and its details - with all the minor problems I faced along the way and how I dealt with them, and ended on the note - with all the 'non-offensiveness' I could gather - that the essay answers nothing, really.

Round Three was the screenplay, or, actually, a course in Pre-Production. One where we were supposed to hand in a script for a short film which we would write, as well as a log of how we did it, a Shooting Script and a Post-Production Outline for it.

The problem here was, well, mainly me and the fact that I didn't feel I really had a story to tell at that point. That, and the fact that I seemingly happened to only attend the annoying workshops that I felt taught me nothing and didn't help me at all. We sat there watching other people's short films, as if we hadn't done so before, probably to get us inspired, and writing details about the film we were supposed to write whether it had anything to do with the story at all. And being constantly reminded, by the head of the course, that most people wouldn't manage to do much by the end of it anyway.

So I didn't have a story to tell. Right. I had started working on a short script during the summer, which I thought was crap - mainly because Than highlighted the multitude of its faults for me to see, mini-draft upon partial draft, and I eventually gave up on the idea altogether, at least for the course's requirements. That took all of three weeks. Since I gave up on that one, I had to write something in order to get some idea of a passing grade. And I felt like I had nothing to write, not wanting to share my misery with an audience since I'd been through all that during my goth phase's writings and it really didn't get me anywhere. I really felt I was to treat this with some matter-of-factness.

So I sat down and wrote a story that had a plot just to have some plot, with the point of it, for me, being the last time I felt I could actually write, namely this summer, and the things that made me happy then, being the injokes we shared with my friends when we went out. There were references to Than's addiction to flashy lighters, to the image of Lost's Mr. Eko shouting out 'Charlie!' in a stupid voice, the cliche of the main character dying at the end of the film, and, of course, the common misconceptions among our friends that good writing is about good dialogue, which I treated by using as little dialogue as possible, not having one of the main characters talk at all because this way he would ruin the end's twist. In short, I just sat down and wrote what came to my mind.

The fault of this was that I had nothing to say, really, so I had a really short script, at first, with no moral or point to it. I tried, during numerous drafts, to deal with concepts like friendship, the pessimistic view of the world, or chasing ideals. But no. My point popped with every draft. Until I just made it about style, when Than read the script and decided he would actually consider filming it, because he found it to have interesting visuals, I think. So I just went on and produced a workable draft, the point of which was merely to deliver the story with a twist that friends found shallow, and so did I. I had a story to tell, albeit a pointless one that didn't really need to be told, so the only thing left to do in order for my script to be marked was to tell it well, while following all the teacher saw as the conventions of screenwriting.

So at some point, I was done with all three. Yay. Neither of them was as good as I would want it to be, ideally, but I felt I'd done what I could with the prerequisites and time-limits I was given. So, by the book, I had won for now. And what did I learn from this, you ask? To care less, really.

Shedding Light on M. Night

2006-12-24T22:23:00.000Z

SPOILERS for Lady in the water follow. Very soon after this warning, too.

M. Night Shyamalan's Lady in the Water is truly his way to kill the film critic. Yep, you heard me, it's more than just a symbolic whine against them. He plays an important part in this story-about-his stories, raising his middle finger on auteur theory analyses that want him following in Hitchcock's footsteps, and goes along with his take on how to make a story work. 'Cause that's what he's been doing all along - not trying to deliver "the twist", as some moviegoers would have you believe up to now.

Although he did go into loads of trouble with his previous work, after Sixth Sense, to show people that's not what he's out to do, he failed enough in doing so that he went on to make this film, that explains it to everyone who cares to watch it. And heck, does it serve as an explanation to all. I'm sure people will respond to it in one of two ways: either by accepting the fact and learning, once again, why to admire him and his work, or by being tragically offended by it, seeing that they're the ones it's out to offend in the first place, and defensivelly dissing it.

He spelled it out for all. Had characters explaining the narrative roles they were there to play as they played them, had a film critic reading it all wrong and thus being the villain of the story more than CGI monsters could ever be, having the Story saved at the end, and self-righteously telling us, not that he learned illegal ninja moves from the government, but that the role he's here to play in changing the world of filmmaking will only bring on a renaissance, that will most probably dispell all academic conventions that analysts stand by until now, after people shed light to it, inspired by his work.

And yes, reading into M. Night Shyamalan's work has, up to now, been a better film course than any of the sort that can be found in Universities. One by one, his films all have something to teach. And this one is truly one hell of an exam. Into his work, what he's taught us so far, and, well, admittedly, into his own a$$hole.

Culture, you ninny!

2006-11-15T06:03:00.000Z

Hey, now I'm mad at culture, too...
You know what I'm talking about. That council of experts that all sit down together every Friday around a big conference table and decide what is and what isn't art this week. You all know they exist, don't kid yourselves.

Apparently games are not art yet. Yes, they've gone a long way since, say, the 80s, or since LucasArts - which used to have the name, the essence but not the "social acceptance", where anyone but us geeks were concerned - last made something worth mentioning. But they're still not seen as "art" by those that matter. The essence of Academia doesn't seem to care, at least not yet.

Than just finished Half Life 2's first episode. Yeah, apparently those expansions are serialised now. And they're damn fine in every respect, and even I can tell, being the non-"real"-gamer that I am these days. It seemed like... well, I won't say "like an interactive movie". I won't even say "like a good interactive movie", or something as crass as "a milestone in gaming's storytelling evolution". It's all that, but it is, truly, and most importantly, more. It's a game that makes you realise what games were meant for: communication, with the people who made the game, and with the game itself. Like "real" art.

And what makes me mad, this time, is that noone is there to look at it and tell the world why it's important, sociologically, and why mankind is richer for it. And not just this game, which caught my attention this time, mind you. I'm talking about games in general, the kind we play and make us feel... richer for it.
No courses out there teaching people how to make a brilliant game, what it takes to provide us with such an experience. No books, no magazines, other than the ones that would make money from advertising the games in the first place.

Yeah, I'm doing Film Studies, and films have been around... well, much longer than I have. Can we only examine things that retrospectively? I remember being told, time and time again, when I was younger, that we live in a fast-paced time where social evolution is concerned. And I believed them back then, but I really doubt them right now. I should probably have waited a few decades before believing anything I heard about the "here and now" - it seems like we have to make sure, before talking about things, that the "here and now" is safely buried as the "then and there".

Science, you ninny!

2006-10-26T17:52:00.000Z

I'm mad at science today. Neuroscience specifically, 'cause, like, normally it's my friend and I respect it and all, but I realised something and now I'm mad at it and I won't speak to it for today. Or at least I'll try, 'cause I usually enjoy our conversations, and I still have an issue of New Scientist to read and the RSS feed of SciAm on my googlepage. Hmm. Pffft.

I was actually thinking about diseases such as MS and Alzheimer's, that apparently rely somewhat on thought processes and feelings to occur. And they're quite trendy these days, more people seem to have them than in the past. And so do other diseases and conditions, that may not directly rely on stress and such, but things like that are officially risk factors for them.

And there's a lot of upheaval against more tangible things like smoking or food cholesterol and vitamin deficiency, since there we can "see" the enemy and punch it harder, but thoughts and feelings we can't put a face to, at least not yet. People like Kevin Warwick who managed to encode and transfer feelings over the internet may actually help in this field, and so can various cognitive scientists at some point, who try to map thoughts and feelings and find where they can be pinpointed in the obscure island that we call the brain... but that's kind of the problem, I find.

There don't seem to be that many people, to my knowledge, that examine the "how" of the thing. How thoughts and feelings actually "happen", how they electrically/biochemically occur and are transferred and transcribed in there. Now that's something we could affect if we could pinpoint it. If we knew how our neurons go about making us feel this way or that, if, for example, their physical structure being a certain way and changing to that, or certain biochemical substances' presence, are involved in me worrying too much about having to wash the dishes before I go to class tomorrow morning, now that would help.

And the thing is that there are steps being made, as I said, in the right direction, but it feels like noone has really taken the time to connect the dots, interdiciplinarily. It would take someone who would be equivalently familiar with the relevant neurophysiology fields and psychology, at least, but I do believe that it would make sense that two disciplines that have so much in common would work together more closely and intensively. Or they may have done so, but I don't really know of that many examples of cases that have produced interesting results, where I would imagine that they would.

I'm waiting, people! And so is humanity, in essence. We truly need to find how to look at the ways we think and feel, in ways through which we can tangibly affect them. I think and feel we have many reasons to do so.

Is Ignorance Indeed Bliss?

2006-10-19T19:03:00.000Z

I was thinking the other day, about how the idea that the earth was round had been proposed so many centuries ago, yet humanity still chose to socially ignore it and believed that it was in fact flat, with no scientific evidence to reject the claim, just an instinctive feeling that "well, it must be flat, how wouldn't it be?". And this is just an example, one of many popular misconceptions that were challenged, successfully, with the establishment of scientific thought.

It could actually be argued that people back then were much more content believing that there was nothing but the end of the earth beyond those vast oceans, for which they had neither the technology nor the need to examine any further. So, it could be said that, sociologically, it was safer for them to be free of such worries and questions, until they actually had a need for what such research struggles would offer - namely, there were at some point too many people and not enough resources for them, so new land needed to be found. And only then was the truth faced and acknowledged at last.

'Cause up to then, there were already people who were familiar with, say, Pythagoras' theories and calculations, but whole systems were in place to make sure that, socially, nothing like that would be taken seriously by anyone who could research it further or do something about it and still let others know.

So, this makes me wonder: Is there some type of social mechanism that urges humanity to deny certain types of knowlege for which there is no direct need yet? Do people as a whole actually deny certain truths just because they can't be bothered with them right now? Is there a whole set of common dreams and experiences that we could all strive for but don't really need the hassle?

It would make sense that humanity would deny a whole set of areas of research... And what good would it do, for example, to physically locate or scientifically examine the human soul, should it be in any way tangible? Would it cause anything but fears and worries right now? Aren't we better off if we don't ask, until or unless we ever have a reason to?

We still have so many things to worry about, hope and strive for, scientifically. Space travel and colonisation, for example, is a hard enough goal already. It's just that I'm curious to find out what we don't want to find out. Oh well...

What I want to be when I grow up

2006-10-14T18:20:00.000Z

As long as I remember myself, I've been searching around in dark alleys of my mind and the world around me, trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do for a living. I went through various phases, performing theoretical acrobatics between the sciences and the arts, delving in various fields that made me almost certain that I'd finally found the answer, with the latest of which being screenwriting - an art that I do, in fact, want to keep up if I can.

But what recently dawned upon me is that I don't need to fulfill any bills pre-assigned to me at birth, if I truly want to do something with my life. I just have to find a way to do what I'd be doing anyway, and find a way to eventually get paid for it. After all, everyone has some use in this world essentially...

So I thought, hey, what do I do all the time? I write. I don't necessarily tell stories, in fact I love to have stories told to me - some of you may already know that Than tells me one every night as we go to bed, prompted by two random words that I select for him, and even despite that, I've spent my life absorbing and enthusing upon stories in books or comics that I read, films or series that I watch, even lyrics that I listen to, which always have a story behind them in order to make me happy.

Most of all I like to have stories told to me, in one way or another, and then write something that, effectively, says "thank you". Whether it's a blogpost, a "notepad diary" .txt, a forum post or a story, screenplay or set of lyrics, I express my gratitude through words, just because I think in written form anyway (Than has actually claimed that I'm able to correct spelling mistakes in someone's speech...). And hey, I was lucky enough to fall into the social sciences, a Film Studies course in particular, which has so far allowed me not only to experiment in the field of screenwriting and video production, but to see that it's a good thing to discuss and write about things that other people make.

So yes, the man I have beside me right now is one whose destiny is to tell stories - through making comics or directing, or hopefully both. But, being the person that I am, and despite the fact that I will occasionally tell stories of my own to express the fact that I'm glad when other people do, I now think it's my destiny to spend the rest of my life saying "thank you" to people who tell me good stories, whether it be in academia, magazines, websites or just in a cafe with my friends.

Ahoy, Cult Leaders!

2006-10-14T15:29:00.000Z

Heading fast towards the end of this course, possibly able to finally obtain a university diploma after 7 long years in academia, this year already seems worth my while.

The Blockbusters course, for which we have to write 8000 words overall on a relevant topic of our own choosing, led me to what was, for me, a fairly obvious choice: to examine how on earth a cult-followed yet academically and mainstream audience quasi-ignored auteur, Sam Raimi, managed to fulfill a fanboy's dream and make the most box office successful film of all times, Spiderman.

I love to dwell on things that seem like paradoxes, whether they're "positive" or "negative" ones. And it does seem like an amazing paradox, an unexpected victory on the part of the "team" of us geeky fan-kids, that one day the world seemed to wake up and acknowledge not only our existence, but our "superiority" in a sense. And the sense, in fact, that seems to matter most to it: $$$!

The type of people that I feel like I belong to, that sad portion of overcultured and hyperenthusiastic humanity that is grouped together, not by a religion or a football team, but by a shared love for things that other people make up for us, usually come out as losers in the big game of living in a society governed by tangible objects and the fulfillment of everyday needs. And it does indeed seem important when "we" feel acknowledged, because "one of us, one of us, one of us" emerges victorious.

So, although 8000 words on my part do seem like enough of a tribute to "our" Uncle Sam - I'm only a human typewriter after all - I just needed to add the icing on the tribute cake with a blogpost today. Sam Raimi, thank you, and I hope it marked the beginning of a new era, within which being geeky is officially the way to go - nerds had their time with the rise of the internet era after all, it's our turn now ;)

Oscar Wise and the unbearable subjectivity of reasoning

2006-07-26T07:57:00.000Z

So, I was out the other day, with Than and a few friends of ours, and Than and our friend Ted sat there arguing about something they both agreed upon, as per usual. It took them a bit more than it usually does to realise that they were just saying the same thing in different words and were basically arguing semantics.

The whole debate regarded the way years are measured when we're talking about age and when we're talking about calendar years, with the only difference being when we celebrate what year. Ted was insisting that they're measured exactly the same way, since the same arithmetic principles are used in both cases, while Than said it's the other way around, since we celebrate the beginning of a calendar year on New Year's Day, but the passage of a year on our birthday. And the simple fact that the one said "it's the same" while the other said "it's different" was the point of a 20-minute-or-so disagreement.

So, ok, if we assume that point zero was when Jesus was born (which another friend of ours in the group desperately tried to point out that it was not, in fact, when Jesus was actually born, since it has been determined arbitrarily a few centuries later, which we all were obviously aware of, but it was not our point at the time), then by the time baby Jesus celebrated his first birthday, it would start counting as year 2 on the calendar. And if there were calendars on the wall back then, when Mary was out with her baby carriage (again, if there were baby carriages back then) and an old lady saw the baby, the following dialogue would ensue:

The old lady would go "oooh, what a sweet baby, and what a cute little beard it has... is it a boy or a girl?," Mary would reply "a boy," and then the old lady would say "how nice... and how old is he?." Mary would answer "well, he's one year old since last week," so the fact would then be that if anyone looked at their calendar on the wall, the year shown would be year 2, and not year 1 as we may have expected. The reason for this being that we start counting a calendar year from its first day, but a year of age when the year has passed. Strange for some, natural according to counting and celebration conventions to people like Ted, Mathematician and USTV guru.

But the wonderful thing here is how long they disagreed before realising that they didn't really disagree in the first place. And the even more amazing thing is how often it happens with the two of them, usually lasting for no more than a couple of minutes with a drumroll backing. So, the moral of our story really is that the pure and simple truth, as another friend of mine, Oscar Wilde, once said, is rarely pure and never simple.

Which brings me to the reason why I am such a fan of the scientific method and of logical reasoning according to convention. People think and talk in so many different ways, that if two people, both of which I consider amazingly smart in stupendously different ways, disagree or think that they disagree so often, it cannot be assumed that we all speak the same language, even if we use the same pool of words. There must be some set of rules as to what counts as true and how, in order for humanity to be able to talk about things, since we're all basically cursed to have to communicate things other than "I'm hungry" or "I love you" like quasi-normal animals need to. And even then, whatever we learn, there must be some way to record it and pass it on, so as to be able to say that we know more today than our forefathers knew a few years ago, some set of rules to test its truth and to realise how we got there, in order to map out the theoretical territories we all waddle across, so as to avoid traps, pitfalls and going round in circles if other people before us have pointed them out somehow.

So, in the sea of abstract thinking, sailing in a boat of my own subjectivity, science and logic are my only oars.

Take it easy, take it from me

2006-06-20T08:16:00.000Z

So... I'm in Greece, on steroid treatment (which is actually working) and on sets doing practical work. Unpaid (except for the extra parts) and fresh, well enough to do things I'm not really well enough for (if that's not a sign of my getting better, I don't know what is) and happy as a happy cow, I'm actually doing something with most of my day and appreciating the simple things in life.

Which brings us to the question: How come I didn't do these things sooner? How come I didn't live my life to the max, but just overblew things in my mind instead, before I could do anything useful about them or in general?

Life is essentially simple and comprehensible, easy to manage if one knows what one wants. And I wonder what tiny little imp in our brains screws things up sometimes, making things seem so complicated and serious...

I must officially state that I've decided to take things lightly. If it's important, but I can't do anything about it, then worrying won't help the matter at all. If I think of something to do about an issue, I'll just have to do it. And prioritising is always the way to go - which, essentially, is always a personal choice, and people always understand. If you can't make it "just because", and they can accept that, then why not accept that you can't make it because you have a reason / excuse / don't bloody well want to?

So no, I don't own the world, and I'm not responsible for its emotional wellbeing. No, really. I'm not. And if you have any objections, you can carefully examine the specifics of how I don't care, and still achieve more than I used to.

Singular Sclerosis

2006-05-26T15:39:00.000Z

Oh well, I haven't been active on this blog for months, about the same time since I've felt like a real person. I have been diagnosed with "a single incident of brain infection, typical of multiple sclerosis according to the MRI scan", which means that I don't have MS yet, since it has to be multiple in order to be called that, but it's a single incident, lasting a few months so far, that almost crippled me for a while (half my face is still numb, and so are the edges of my fingers, my vision is blurry and I crash into things a lot, I get tired before I can even say the word out loud and I haven't been able to use my computer for more than a couple of minutes at a time for ages), but "in 6 to 8 weeks after the intravenal steroid treatment" (on greek Easter Sunday, that was) I expect to be all better and it may never return (which I hope), or it may do at some point and I'll thus be part of that portion of the population that science can't really do anything about just yet. And no, this hasn't managed to make me reconsider my views on studying biochemistry, I met enough people during my 4 years there to know that someone, at some point, will discover something useful about the situation, whether I'm part of the solution or not - although my 4 wasted years enabled me to show off to doctors and friends, not being an alien creature in the hospital that has no idea what's wrong with her, what they're doing to her or why.

The cool thing about this is that, eventually, everything will be ok, even if it's just for a while. They seem to hope for a full recovery, and although I'm not well enough to fill in my time with any of the things I enjoy doing (reading, writing, drawing, sitting on the PC for hours on end or watching film after series and series after film on Than's computer screen are just not options right now, just like doing useful things around the house for him or myself), I'm enjoying it while it lasts. It does have its benefits, most of them including the amazing people I have in my life (my mother and Than being the two main ones, and if you'd asked me beforehand I don't know if I'd assume they had it in them to support me like they have), as are things like university assessment extensions (I got two weeks for three essays and managed to hand them all in yesterday, by the agreed time, and, had I not, I would be given the whole summer due to "mitigating circumstances", but I managed to eliminate a few things I'd still have to worry about as soon as I could) or the worries that probably got me here in the first place.

I never knew Than had it in him to be so supportive - I was usually the one dragging him about, worrying about him and his health or financial status or his struggles with the University and his excellently creative dyslexia that only hinders him in the one department that I can do something about and guide him through (writing long essays), and the roles seem to almost be reversed around the house during this time. He's split himself in two, learned to cook and even uses his skills in tidying up and washing the dishes, since I don't beat him to it right now, and still he manages to find time to do all his creative work (from the webcomic to our documentary, which you can find the crude, uni version of at http://www.deeplexuniverse.plus.com ), keep in touch with friends that constantly ask about me, cover me on the Serendipitous forum when I'm not in the right state to worry about it and still be available when I need him to get me stuff or when I need to be "carried" somewhere to do something - whether that be the University across the road or the cinema across town, which, as I discovered, is the only thing I can enjoy right now: no monitor to tire my eyes, complete darkness around me and a huge screen for me to enjoy a film on).

And my mother, on the other hand, has been a dream come true. I've always known she loves me to bits, but both her and my father usually avoid spoiling me if they can, probably to make me stronger for it. Still, during the past couple of months, she came over to the UK twice, we went clothes shopping till I dropped (that's always our "quality time" together), she escorted me to all the doctors and hospitals I needed to go to within the dreaded NHS system, and spent tons of money on me and my wellbeing on the way. Things I had wanted to save money for since last year, such as a freezer or even an mp3 player, just appeared out of the goodness of her heart, as did non-material things that I thought would never happen, her sitting on a chair next to Than and talking casually, discovering that I'm not the one thing that tears them apart, but the one thing that they have in common.

And yes, everyone else has found that soft place in their heart to worry about "poor old me" - the University (some lecturers as well as the field secretary have seemed really worried by the dreaded "MS" initials), my father (the diagnosis, as well as my mother's first trip, came just after a 75-page translation for his work which he PAID me for and I did at my own pace), friends and family of all sorts and just about anyone who's passed through my world at this time of year seems so supportive and so worried... I'm not dying, you guys, at least not any more than every mortal being in this world is...

I remember the worries I had a few months ago and they almost seem funny now. Than has already thought about finding a non-creative job next school year when we come back, and the projects for the summer ahead seem ideal - not only is a friend of my dad's partner going to find me something in a hot-shot greek production company, but last year's producer guy is already searching for something - paid - for us to do during the summer in a film and TV advertising production background, as well as a friend of ours who is setting up a music production studio and has offered to give us internships there and impart some of his sound-related knowledge, since we plan to spend time around there in the forthcoming months and I will personally be paid extra by his wife-to-be for some english-to-greek translations that she'll need during that time (she's English and has just started learning the greek language, which has still not enabled her to use her copywriting skills there), while she's already tried to pay me for the translation of their website - money which I feel bad about taking from friends - and Than will have his webcomic advertised on their walls... It seems like a fairytale, and if I'm allowed to avoid working at my father's company this year (unless they really, really need me for a few afternoons, to do something that noone else there can do), the summer seems ideal and will be a tiresome yet pleasurable change from my freaking-out-while-being-unable-to-do-anything past few months.

Overall, this has made me think twice about the old grandmothers' attitude, "as long as you have your health, everything else is secondary"... Health (and its absence) was a realm that my mind had never truly considered until now. Things change so drastically without it, and factors such as University deadlines and money issues seem so small now - at least for the time being - that they can be overcome in a second, since I have a good and truthful excuse.

I'll be more active in the near future on this blog, I promise, but my long-term absence is something I don't expect anyone to tell me off about (I literally couldn't have spent half this time writing something till now that I'm starting to get better) and I won't really feel bad about personally. It wouldn't have been an issue otherwise, but it was, due to this - I kid you not. And all for the better now, optimism at hand.

Striving for excellence

2006-04-02T19:40:00.000Z

I live my life investing myself in everything I choose to do, passionately. Yes, I've done things in the past "just because I had to" and barely scraped enough effort to remain "above average", but those aren't the things I chose to do, they were merely things I had to do. When I decide, through my own free will, to explore an area, I simply must do my best - and, since I've never really had to "support myself financially" in any of these areas yet, I mostly invest tons of effort into fields that won't really give me the same in return - unless you count the appreciation of friends and family as a profit.

But then I look around me, and I see tons of people making a living in areas where, the way I see it, they shouldn't. From a tragically mediocre television writer, to a graphic designer who "complains about her not being able to find a job, although she has a degree" - although I can produce more visually pleasing and objectively functional things than she can, and it's not even my field - to sad excuses for creators of any kind or NHS doctors who are obliged to give you 10 minutes of their time but don't invest a second of their thoughts to actually try and figure out what's wrong with you, but instead they remind you before you're able to say anything that the appointments are for no more than 10 minutes and if you need more time you'll have to book another one.

And yes, it's fair enough that these people aren't going to offer you their souls in return for your trust, but I just wonder how they can live with themselves... They are definitely within their rights to do no more than they're obliged to and hope for the best in return, but how can they dedicate their lives, that's the rest of the time they have here on earth to actually do something and be the best they can be, to some field or cause and not need to excel in it? How can they be so oblivious to anything that could be seen as constructive criticism and instead take it as an offense because it's not gratitude? How can they? I wonder...

And it's not that I personally am better than anyone else, heck, I haven't changed the world in any way (yet), and I won't expect anyone to be infallible, but I want people to try to be, at least in the one or two fields they've acknowledged as their "areas of expertise". So no, next time you show me your crappily laid out fanzine and try to pass it off as a "magazine", or next time you show me your stupid home video and try to pass it off as an "amateur film" - or even when you show me the story you wrote because you had "an idea" and ask me for my opinion, I'll tell you the truth, not a sugar-coated version of it. I'll phrase it as nicely and inoffensively as I can, but I won't hide a single thought, a single "negative" comment. I won't tell you that "you suck", I'll just try to tell you that "I expect better", and how, and why, just in case it reaches the constructive side of your brain - even if I can tell from the way you asked me that all you wanted to hear is "hey, good job". Especially if I know I could do better myself, in your shoes or mine.

Logical Fallacies

2006-03-25T17:45:00.000Z

More often than not, I find myself expressing strong disagreement with what someone is saying, ranting and ranting and trying to explain myself. And more often than not, the point which I disagree with is not their actual point.

An enormous amount of people around me fall into what are, to me, painfully obvious "mistakes" in their arguments. Trying to explain and support something which may be correct or true or a matter of their own tastes and preferences, they use annoying amounts of arguments that are blatant logical fallacies.

From irrelevant or inadequate appeals to authority to "begging the question", from post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacies to straw man demagogies, from hasty generalisations to abstractions, from circular arguments to irrelevant conclusions, they're easy to fall into yet easy to spot - they're hard to avoid when arguing, and hard to explain to the person who's just fallen into one if they see you as a "debating opponent". And the most annoying thing is to be aware of one's use of them yet unable to explain them; to be the one striving for logical argumentation and a combined quest for the "truth somewhere in the middle" and be talking to someone who uses Sophism and treachery (even in their own mind) in order to "win the debate". I'm not your enemy, you ninny... I'm your compadre in our common search for the truth!

A lot of people I converse with often find me "annoying" in this sense, since, to them, I debate in a way that is not "relevant" to the question... I spend ages going over and over details in their argumentation, instead of just stating a general conclusion which I believe to be true (or not). And it's all in the eye of the beholder... I DO want to agree with people, I sincerely do, even if it's just to "agree to disagree"... But I speak in a language that's foreign to them, which is not necessarily "wrong" - we're just incompatible in conversation.

I allow for personal tastes, as long as they are identified by the argumentor instead of stated as general "A is better/nicer/cooler than B" facts, and I allow for less "strong" statements, such as "this MAY be true" and "that is PROBABLY NOT true", but I can't accept an argument that, with logic, can just not be PROVEN as "true" or as "false", when it is presented as such. Yet I seem to be one of a tiny handful of people who cares for that...

And the funniest thing is that I spend hours annoyed by this happenstance, instead of just ignoring it (and its supporters) when I recognise it being done - most people don't care about logical theory or philosophical argumentation, and I can't say they're wrong not to care. But I, personally, care a great deal. I love to learn new things, and as such I see disagreements as challenges, as a chance to discover why and how the other person believes what he or she does, to find even a tiny fragment of truth I can learn from them. Yet when I disagree, most people assume I disagree with their actual point, with the truth of the logical argument, whereas I spend more time examining and testing the logical path that led them there.

They just want to be "right", they feel they are and as such they need to prove they are, or just reject me as an idiot in this occasion. I just want to find out the truth, or prove / show them the truth if I know it to be thus. I don't know why... I can't really do otherwise (although it should stop bugging me as much as it does, I should just accept it as one of humanity's absurdities). But it's just... well, WRONG... It's not my fault...
It. Does. Not. Compute.

Battlestar Galactica: The New Firefly?

2006-03-13T03:22:00.000Z

Apparently, the pilot episode of Battlestar Galactica featured a firefly-class ship in the background at some point, as a tribute to the Firefly series. And I thought nothing of it. I was unimpressed by the fact that there were science fiction TV show makers out there that would think highly of what I thought was a groundbreakingly good series. And I didn't think much of Battlestar Galactica either - I thought its shooting style was slow and annoying, just as I thought about the Firefly pilot itself.

But now I'm truly a convert. My friend Ted ("Have you met Ted?" - that's a How I Met Your Mother reference for you TV series and Whedon allumni illiterates) who runs the greek USTV website and "knows his poo" on the subject, urged me to watch two episodes of it a short while ago in a brilliantly suggestive manner (expressed as "sit your ass down and watch it"), and I did, and I was illuminated by a flaring torchlight in the middle of my soul.

We're talking about a science fiction series that uses its genre as a metaphor to portray every interesting philosophy, politics, sociology and ethics subject in the book, and about a story that Saint Isaac Asimov - the guy whose photo I keep hanging above my desk so I can see it every day, a Doctor in Biochemical subjects, a Mensa "intellectually combative" member, a patron of scientific accuracy in science fiction writing and president of the American Humanist Organisation until the day he died - would be proud of.

And it makes me think. Here we are, complaining about television studios and film audiences for not acknowledging and supporting Firefly and Serenity and not realising what they were. While Joss Whedon himself is not failing us, he's just riding the tide for the time being, having thousands of fans worshiping the air he breaths and being financially able to pay people to grow beards for him (that's a Warren Ellis blog reference, I don't know how much more obscure I can get with these). And while there's talk of Firefly being reenstated as a TV series at some point in the near future, and the comics are soon to come, there's nothing to scare us Browncoats in that front. The man single-handedly changed the conventions of TV serial storytelling, and now, apparently, he's starting to change people's attitude towards science fiction.

The effects are showing, and I'm not talking SFX here. People expect to see a science fiction series that's full of technobabble and meaningless twists, a series whose plot is all about itself, not about the world we live in. But not anymore. People watched Firefly, and they got the message: it's not supposed to be about stories that could or would never happen. It's supposed to be about humanity and its strengths and weaknesses, about what the real world could or would be like "if" or "when" - to make us see, through the eyes of wiser people, where we go wrong, by putting the same things we love or fear about our lives, our selves and our actualities in a different setting and highlight them.

And if this has indeed started to happen, then my seriously bipolar faith in mankind has just been restored, with that thought alone.

Friends You Can Choose, Family You Cannot

2006-02-18T14:29:00.000Z

My brother just joined MSN and asked for mine... I gave it to him, and for a few minutes I felt like I was at home again...

He's 15, into basketball (and girls, I suppose) and his best friend is into computer stuff and often guides him. He said, when he called, that he realised what kind of person I would be if I were in his class, and he probably wouldn't like me very much. He's probably right, although back then I was just out of my basketball phase and would still say hi to him since he'd be in my team, but he wouldn't really be a friend-friend. And we'd lose touch a year later probably, just saying a random 'hello' here and there. And my mother would now tell me about him, about how he continued his studies while I left Edinburgh and Biochemistry and such, and how he'd still be the "good son" to the "problematic daughter" I still am...

Still, I'm more than proud of myself, being a weirdo and all... And people who are not related to me and don't have to stand me by necessity seem to like me anyway, for who I am. And I could build websites when I was his age, I could script, and I wrote poetry and stories and weird teenage stuff, while he has trouble with sending email attachments... Still, he's smart, and interesting, and a great teenager if I may say so myself, well-adjusted and well brought up. And he faces my dad's whining with laughter or irony, so he's well above it, which I admire. He's got people skills which I only recently developed, and he's the kind of person that I really wanted to be when I was still his age, but I found reasons to dislike them because I lived in a different world than them in the same closed and tiny universe of school...

And the only reason I love him so much is not because he can actually think and talk and understand - a lot of people probably can, but I usually meet the other kind lately for some reason - but because he's my brother. That's why he has me on his MSN list and why he'd care about Than's webcomic or whatever, not because I'm a 15 year old girl that he likes... And it's wonderful, I think, how family - like the army, or school, or like anything else you may just get forced into without choosing the pool of people that you hang out with - is there to help you appreciate the people in it, when you wouldn't choose them if they were just random people out there...

Family is a magical thing, if you let it. And I'd wish it upon everyone, but then I think that everyone's got one of their own.

I Wanna Be Loved By You...

2006-02-16T23:59:00.000Z

...just you, nobody else but you, dear self...

I was pondering upon the nature of "trying to appeal to people" and the works. And I noticed a lot of people, including myself, who want to appeal to people whom they think of as annoying, or at least not belonging to their personal mindframe. Well, I've got news for you, self: It's futile. As futile as trying to explain Quantum Physics to Schroedinger's cat, no matter how much you think it should concern them...

Take someone you think of as "stupid" for example, at least in the subject at hand... You may have a reason to appeal to them, either because you think they should or would care, or out of the goodness of your heart, or even because you want to make money off them. I'm telling you now, chances are that you'll fail even harder and more painfully the more you try.

That's not just because you'll have invested less effort and thus less to lose at the end, oh no. Nor is it because of the simple truth that most people subconsciously find absolutes more appealing, whether they're good or bad. The reason I've personally held onto as more "real" than any is simply this: "Stupid" people, or at least people who don't care enough about the subject, will either disagree with you or disagree with you anyway, and you surely can't please everyone, however hard you may try. And "smart" people, or at least people who are in your own wavelength, will appreciate you much more if you voice their opinions like they voice them in their own heads, if you have arguments for what you believe in and against what you don't, and if you're willing to talk these over and possibly even reconsider if the other side has arguments that answer yours.

It makes sense to me, however you look at it. You can even support the fact that you like to fart loudly for chrissakes, with arguments, and you'll most probably be right, at least for some. And people out there WILL identify with you, and they'll appreciate the fact that you voiced their concerns.

And no, I'm not telling you to be a bastard, especially if that's not something that makes you happy. I'm telling you to be OK with yourself, with the things you believe, if you have reasons to believe them, and feel right about voicing them and about acting the way that you do, if you have reasons for doing so. And if someone disagrees, well, listen to them, and if you feel they have a point then reconsider. But don't count the fact that they disagree as them immediately having a point. Just don't. Just tell them I said so or something.

A Tiger And His Stripes

2006-02-16T20:20:00.000Z

I was just saying, with a friend, that I don't really agree with the saying that "a tiger can't change his stripes"... It sounds true, I know, but when attributed to people and to "the way they are", it just sounds a tad unfitting.

People are complicated creatures, and they can see things inside them as their "stripes" when they're just temporary markings on their skin, little lines of wash-away paint that just repeat themselves often because you pass through the same freshly painted place too often. Or maybe they are your stripes, but people are unique in that they have paintbrushes and hair dyes...

People have the power to change if they want to... To change anything that annoys them, other than the past of course... But even in the past, there are reasons in the present that make it so annoying (Like, what if you got amnesia? Would it still matter? :P)
And, again, a human tiger CAN change his stripes, if he wants to...

Still, I never, ever said that you need to change to the other side... A common tiger may be disappointed with his stripes and want to emerge stripeless from the whole thing, instead of getting ones he likes... Why bother? There are so many things one can change for them to be happy... A tiger can just have different stripes, that are better than the previous ones, that satisfy him completely, that make him happy. There's no need to take things to extremes.

What matters really is finding the right balance, the right pattern, the right stripes. And sometimes you don't really have to change your stripes, if you find reasons why they've been pretty all along... It does help though, if you change even a tiny edge of the ones you have, the rest are always easier to accept.

Propaganda? On who, me?

2006-02-16T13:18:00.000Z

I watched Munich, and talked about it for hours, and heard about Frank Miller's take on Batman beating up the Al Quaeda... And I've heard all sorts of people talk about the political aspect of these things, and I just had a couple of things to say about why I'm not bothered with it...

You see, the "World War III" thing hasn't touched me and mine, at least not yet. And for the time being, I'm allowed to be unaffected by it, thankfully - above and beyond it, and only caring about the art beside it... And for now, if I'm satisfied with that, I have no sides to take.

Yes, both Al Quaeda and the Americans have done nasty and cruel things - and the Jews and everyone who's affected by it do nasty things of their own. I notice, I see, from outside, and I don't like what each side does. I'm not going to "rank the evil", not now, and I'm not going to say one side is "more correct" than the other. There are stupid Arabs who don't think straight in the middle of all this, just as there are idiotic Americans or ones that have "selfish" reasons to think and act the way they do... And there are many, if not all, whose lives really matter, who don't have a choice really if they should give their lives to this cause, or who deliberately choose the cause, whatever it may be, above their own lives, and still leave people behind who care for them. Well, I'm truly sorry to these people, but it's a war, these things happen, and there's pain and evil all around.

And since, for the time being, I can stay out of it and be glad to love the people I love, whether they're all friends who aren't part of this or people that I admire who may or may not be, I can stay here, in my little war-shelter, and worry about the things I worry about every day. I'm truly sorry to the ones on each side that lose people they love, and if I want someone to win I know who it is - I want America to emerge victorious yet battered and poor from all this, but that's because I've lived all my life with an American world-government and I'm scared as to what it would be like with an Arab one...

But still, there's so much "propaganda" in what America produces, and I care for what it does not so much because of its content but because of its form. So if I'm unaffected by what it's trying to say ideology-wise, I don't really have to care if it's convincing people that one side is bad or that the other side is worse... It won't convince me to change what I believe - other, more important things will. I'll take the art for what it is, love it if it's good, hate it if it's bad, and just be glad that I can... I've dedicated my life to this stuff, my heart, but not my mind.

Film-watching

2006-02-12T19:21:00.000Z

It's funny, really. People talk about the experience a lot. From people who will just watch a film every couple of months because they feel like they have to, to people who really, truly care about cinema like it's going to save the world alone. Everyone watches films, and everyone talks about them or about their creators with their friends or with someone they just met - it's like the weather, a general topic everyone will have something to say about.

And yet, film-watching is such a different experience for everyone. A different person is bound to care about different things or for different reasons. Anyone, from a 14 year old girl to a 60 year old man, will probably care about the plot, about what story it tells. And some people care about the way it looks. But even these things seem so different to each person, nobody can perfectly agree on everything. Others care about an original storyline or character development or plot twists, other care for the theme to be similar to what they have lived in their lives or what they have loved in previous films. Some care about the colours (*raises hand*) or the cinematography or the camera work, and certain people like or hate the star system they're subjected to in different industries... And each of these people has different opinions for different reasons.

Some just like what they're told to like, either because of their political orientations or who they are in the world, and others have points which they focus on to generally select their likes and dislikes, such as the fact that it's recent or old, or the way it looks as a series of images, or because someone they respect is in some way or another involved in it. It's all the same really.

And it's scary, yet still wonderful, how much or how long one can talk about a film or group of films, like the weather, and feel like they connect with or like the other person due to a similarity of opinions on what they've discussed, or hate them for the different way they see and care about things. No, I'm not saying that any of these people is wrong, far from it. Just that I don't know how much it matters, or if it matters at all.

Persona & Mulholland Drive

2006-02-12T01:00:00.000Z

Lately, we've been talking a lot with this friend of ours from University, whose major passion is Ingmar Bergman, about the similarities and differences between Lynch's Mulholland Drive and Bergman's Persona.
And they're both - attention, spoilers ahead - based on the notion of interchangeable people.

Be it in dreams or metaphorically, how one person is so alike the other to the extent of them ultimately being one and the same, this focuses on the notion of human similarity in almost the way that I would...

It touched me, to an extent, as an idea. It really did. However you choose to interpret it at the end, the idea is the same: just look around and find the ways you resemble someone else, be it a family member, a close personal friend or a total stranger. And you'll be amazed at what you find, I promise.

If you take the time to find the ways, it'll tell you things about the world you may never have known otherwise - and it's even better if you choose a person at random. Other than the simple stuff, like age or gender or what you do for a living, that may or may not be the same, look a bit deeper. Look at the way they react to this or that, or their deeper beliefs about various trivial or important subjects, or even their likes and dislikes.

Yet again, with this simple mind-trick, you'll get to know more about yourself and about the world than you'd ever known before.

And I'm sure that everyone's getting tired of my little games, which all break down to a simple "look closer and think wiser", so instead of hating me just watch the films instead...

A Busybody is a Somebody

2006-02-07T22:08:00.000Z

I felt like a Nobody, a short while back. I felt other people were doing things, and achieving things, when I wasn't really. And then I wondered why.

Yes, it often takes a while, from the moment when you recognise something to the moment when you actually wonder why things are so - and then a longer while until you actually do something about it.

So I discovered that the reason was that I wasn't doing enough in my life. Not enough for other people, just enough for me to feel OK. I was better at some things than some others, worse at other things than some, and basically just me, there, feeling insignificant. So I just found out a few areas where I could improve, and got busy.

Now I'm really tired, I have things to do and the list seems intimidating, and I have to learn how to schedule things better in my head. But I'm happier, eventually. I lost that weird feeling, at least for the time being, and I feel, when I rest my head on the pillow at last, that I'm actually doing something. I wanted to write a blogpost for days - I don't want to leave things hanging - and I wrote three in just a few minutes. And I don't really give a toss if you hate me for it, just read the one(s) you want... Or none. I just wanted to go out, in my little clearing in the virtual forest, and shout out "I'm glad". And tired, but still glad.

Change

2006-02-07T21:52:00.000Z

Oh please, change something. Change something every day. If not every day - which, if you think about it, you probably do already - change something every week, just to change something out of your own volition.

You come into this world a crying mass of meat. With people who care for you, or don't, with people who'll be there for you, or not, and with people who are paid to care for you enough to get you out safely. And you made it this far. Good for you.

You've probably changed a lot since then. You're now much more than a crying mass of meat. You have so much going on in your head and around you, and you care about most of it, you're to be thanked or blamed for some of it, and affected by all of it - and most of the time, in a very different way than you were yesterday.

So I have another game for you. It goes something like this: Choose one thing about yourself, something that has to do with the way you think, or the way you act, or even the way you look. Then make a conscious decision to change it. Think of it from other, realistic angles, until you find one you'd be happy with - either because it would make you a better person, or more appealing to the ones you choose to care about, or just because you can. It's not that hard, usually, not if you find something that's within your power to change.

The scariest thing is the idea itself: Change. Six letters, full of prospects, of good and bad. People fear change, just like people fear the unknown. And what comes after change is unknown, really. You may have a general idea, but you can't really know what things will be like, whatever it is that you may change, until you actually do. You have no prior experience, not you. But it's usually much easier than you may fear - you have nothing to lose... You have your previous experience, and you can always go back to it, richer, with what you just discovered.

Whether you want to change "the way you view that subject" or "the way you care about people you love" or even "the way you spend your day" or "the way you stand", it's not that big a deal, really. There's no such thing as "something bad might happen" or "it might not be worth it". There's no excuse like "I'm too old / young for this" or "I don't know enough about it". You can postpone things, but if you want them to change, the only person that can eventually do it, whenever they want and however they want, is you. And you're the one who will decide on when, how and why. So go ahead.

I've changed a lot over the past few years. And I've always been richer for it. And there's so much I still want to change - the list is practically endless. I just remember, sometimes, how afraid I was a while back, how reluctant I was to make that one step necessary - there's always one step, one turning point for everything - and just take the plunge. I have people to thank, people to blame, things to worry about and things to take care of that I may not have in the past, or in a different life. But this is mine. And, in the areas I care about at least, I plan to change a lot - every single day, at least in one way, until I die. There's no monsters in my closet, last time I checked, and there's not much to fear when I make a change, until I face it.

If Spidey was a Screenwriter...

2006-02-07T21:15:00.000Z

...what he'd say would, yet again, be "With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility". And it's true. When you write a script, and you present it to the world, there's so much creative freedom you're allowed... But only so much.

You get to decide on your topics, theme, characters, story, backgrounds and everything. From the way they talk or react to each other, to how they change or what happens to them. You can choose a section of the audience you want it to speak to and be understood by, as well as how or why. You have the power of the storyteller, so anything you say or do while writing your script is that and that alone - anyone can take it or leave it, just the way it is, and anyone can love you, hate you or be completely indifferent to you for their own reasons. Just like real life, really.

And then you have to take into account all their different issues. The how and why comes with a price. You can speak to "virtually everybody" or "virtually nobody". They can accept you for who you are because of what you see as the "wrong" reasons, or they can judge who you are - even worse when it's for the "right" reasons, 'cause then you ought to do something about it. And you can be there to be caught by anybody who cares to chase you, or you can stay in your own virtual back yard and just exist. Again, just like real life.

Yet most people will see you as being there to be judged. They'll acknowledge their own right to judge you, for whatever reason and in whatever context, and you'll just be plain evil if you expect the same from them. You, after all, are the one who decided to bring your work out to the public, to light it up, showcase it and accept their judgement. They didn't. They're not there to be judged - what are they, professionals? They just judge, 'cause that's what humans do. They're not required to treat you with any sort of leniency, just because you worked as best you could and they just sat there, judging. You wanted to be there, you took upon yourself the responsibility to make what you made, to give them what you gave them, and now it's their turn to tell you if you should or shouldn't have in the first place.

Just like a superhero. Yes, it's funny, but they're human too. They make mistakes, or act in one way instead of another which you would think of as better, just because they have to choose, at any given moment, no more than one way to act. And it has to conform with their ideas, with society's ideas, with what they always preach as right or wrong, and for the same reasons. And they're not really allowed to make mistakes - they have to pay for them if they do - or change that much - you won't know what to expect. And whoever loves them, loves them for what they are, just like whoever hates them can hate them for a number of different reasons.

Everyone, in their tiny little lives, in their insignificant corner of the universe, is a superhero of sorts, in the field or fields they have chosen as their own. It's fair, in a sense, but it does get hard at times. Still, you can wear that towel in front of the mirror and pose with your arms spread in front of you, and be proud, and know that you pay the price. With great responsibility, after all, comes great, enormous power.

One for all

2006-02-05T18:22:00.000Z

It's strange how often I've been talking about mass psychology lately, through various forms and in various subjects. How everyone's the victim of exactly the same kind of traps, and how we'll all recognise it where and when it annoys us, but we still won't realise where it applies to our own behaviour, when we do the exact same thing and never notice unless someone bangs our heads with the knowledge - and even then, we'd much rather brand him an idiot in one way or another, a person that doesn't get "us" and the way "we" think instead of us realising our own generalisations and subjectivity.

More than often we'll be offended by the fact that someone generalises, including us (at least in our head) in a category we don't feel like we belong to. Whether the person is right or wrong, whether we do in fact belong to the "type" that annoys them or not, for whatever further reason, we are partly to blame. If what bothers us is that we in fact annoy people, well, that will happen a lot. Than says, and I at least know what he means, that for every single one of us 99% of people are idiots, and we all belong to our own 1%. And it's easy to convince someone, should we care - for other reasons - to do so, that we are worth his while even if we do, in fact, belong to one of his "hate categories" - there are always exceptions to these. If, on the other hand, we have several reasons to believe that we don't really belong to the category altogether, all we need to do is confirm this in our heads (is he indeed so blind, or oblivious to what "we" are, or does he have a point somewhere, whether we are annoyed by it in ourselves and others like he is or not?) and then, if we still feel like we don't belong, we can just feel safe in that knowledge, and brand him any way we like. If, on the other hand, he's right somewhere, then all we need to do is decide how and why this affects us, with our own priorities and personal vision, or not, and if it does then change it to what we'd like (everyone changes in some way, every single second of their life) - or repeat the previous step...

I could go on giving personal examples of this - how I've been whining lately about people generalising about how "Hollywood is evil, Alternative American Cinema rules and French Cinema is easy to digest", "This-and-that genre of comics is so much deeper and insightful than the one you prefer", "Bestseller books are so much shallower and popularised than other types you may read" etc, but I feel that, even though these opinions deeply annoy me when I cross paths with them, I sometimes behave that way when it's a topic which I'm not as interested in as the other person, and I'd much rather give you a positive example (when I've mentioned the other ones in all their apparent absurdity, to me and my likes at least).

I was talking with this friend-of-a-friend the other day - someone who hugely flattered me by mentioning that he actually reads my blog and likes it, although he barely knows me, and will probably read this as well - and the topic flowed to music eventually. We'd talked about music in the past, but I was quick to judge him as "someone who's not into the same stuff as me, fair enough." This time, however, when I asked him what genres he listens to, he gave a great big list, just like I do when I'm asked. Still, the fact remained that not even one of the various genres I mention were anything like the various genres he mentioned. And I gave it a few more seconds of thought. In those few seconds I realised that... "Hey, wait a second, this guy is so much like me in a sense... He cares about a great deal of different music, enough to care about mentioning the genres themselves too, to separate them in his head and feel, just like me, that there's too much overlap between these to mention... Too much for the person I'm talking with to care about...".

One day, in the exact same discussion, you focus on the "difference" side, and the next you focus on the "similarity"... You bitch. I'd still not "communicate" with this person tastes-wise in music, but I just wish I could always give people the same benefit of the doubt before I draw any conclusions about them, about myself, or about anything. I just wish I could always make that "mental click".

And all I'm saying is, if you can, please do.

Essay Writing

2006-02-01T08:05:00.000Z

I spent the last couple of weeks worrying about essays (and about a couple of days actually writing the damn things). It was quite an ordeal, for me at least, the sociopath that will avoid doing what she has to do until way beyond the last moment.

It's amazing how I can turn from being branded a polymath wunderkind one second to unreliable problem child the next... Where essays are involved I can only blame one thing for this phenomenon, however: They're tragically stupid.

You get a topic you may or may not care about, you get a word limit and a set amount of issues you need to cover in it, and even need to reference the popculturally obvious. You need to write something you could say in a sentence to someone smart or informed enough, and expand it to 1500 words, or have 2000 words in which to cover something you could talk or write about in hours. And all this according to formal academic conventions, in a subject where you have discovered more than they give you credit for during the rest of your life, or regarding an issue which you already have set opinions about - and possibly even know how little you care about it, even if you know what there is to know and "it has affected what you like now in a way" - and show that you've been a good enough student and read what you never needed to read in the first place.

I object.

Creative Sorcery

2006-01-22T02:39:00.000Z

I'm Mel and I'm addicted to Roleplayers. That's my RPholic self.

I've been writing in this RPG forum, although I'm not a roleplayer and I haven't been one for half a decade (pardon me, it sounds longer that way). And recently there's been this discussion there, about wizards and sorcerers, and which of the two is "cooler" as a character concept. And I don't really give a damn about any of it, but it's so far away from my focus point that I couldn't help myself from answering, since I appreciate the various related analogies with oh so many other things that I do actually care about.

A wizard, you see, is a guy who decides he wants to work with magic, and decides to work hard on that, read dusty tome upon leather-bound volume, and progresses steadily along his path. A sorcerer, on the other hand, is one whose magic comes from within, he's "chosen" in a way and he just develops the "talent" as he goes along. And in the debate, I chose the first option as being more noble and inspiring. And it was true, I promise it was true. In a sense.

Just five minutes ago, I told Than that he was a sorcerer at what he does. He creates, and most of it is not skill, he hasn't really broken a sweat, ever in his life, unless he really, really wanted to, in order to get where he is today. It comes from within. There's people out there who try hard, they study anatomy, or their various creative media, or other people's art, and they progress, steadily and surely. Than is not really one of them. But he does work magic with his hands.

And yes, he's a sorcerer. It doesn't have the same level-headed nobility that a wizard may have, the same conviction or the same perseverance, the same droplets of effort scattered upon everything he does. He just does whatever strikes his fancy, not even remotely suffering the same kind of consequences, not holding the same amounts of constant responsibility and pride at what he does.

But that's what makes him the hero of the story, just as sorcerers usually are. Ged of the Earthsea, Timothy Hunter, Harry Potter... and Than, my man.

IWYSIOK

2006-01-18T03:48:00.000Z

I must begin by stating that these initials have been coined by my friend Daniel - DJ, translator, pedant and stoner extraordinaire, altogether quite a sexy fellow and co-creator and president of our own fictional country which is made for half-breeds like us, who are considered Greek when in England and English when in Greece. The initials mean "I Was Young So It's OK", and they're all about how things you did when you were younger may appear almost idiotic to you today, but you really can't spend time worrying about it; it's all understandable really, I Was Young So It's OK.

It can be wonderful, every once in a while, to visit your past in your head, to wonder whether your "old self" of whatever moment in time would think of yourself now and vice-versa, if the two of you (pun intended) were to actually meet and engage in casual (or deeper) conversation. What you wore back then, what you looked like, what you believed, the way you thought or acted in different circumstances or even the people you tended to like or dislike... It all helps put things in perspective: all your thoughts, hopes, fears, expectations, the things you take for granted or the things you don't trust... It all seems so trivial when you see it through the eyes of someone that's beyond the outlook of these two people, who may be so different in many respects and so similar in others; these two aspects of you.

Both the way you see your past self, and the way your past self would view "the you of today", or even an impartial comparison of the two (or three or googol plex) aspects of the same person can potentially make you wiser, even if just for a few moments of innocent contemplation, in the shower or before you fall asleep. Try it, it's worth the pain.

Is cocaine better than TV? ;)

2006-01-15T22:33:00.000Z

I have a terrible, terrible case of the flu these days, and Than went out this morning to buy me some Lemsip. He came back having bought me a magazine to cheer me up. He chose Wired magazine out of my favorite titles, because, in his words, "It was better than Word". That, and he wanted to justify his purchase of PC Zone when we have virtually no money whatsoever.

I don't know whether his choice of magazine-for-Mel was because he considers me to be more of a tech/sci geek than I am a music geek (which is probably true in a sense), because he thought a robo-Einstein on the cover was cooler than Johnny Cash on the cover (which is debatable really) or because he thought having one more letter in the title equals more value for money (which is just me being silly), but the point is it was indeed the right choice. Wired is probably one of the few magazines out there which I could read, cover to cover, until the next issue comes out. I find it smart yet casual, just the way I like to view myself, really.

The problem is, it created a monster of a blog post, the one you're reading right now, in no more than a tiny bulletin called "ping - just one question". And it goes kind of like this:

WHY oh WHY oh WHY don't they HIT some people out there on the head till their brains grow back?!

The "one question" was "What technologies would we be better off without?". A centuries-old debate, which I believe existed ever since there were technologies (damn you, fire-starting flint stones...). And there's three answers under the question. The first lady goes on about cellphones on airplanes, which, ok, can be annoying, and the last guy states that he wouldn't be up for the abolition of any kind of technology, but that restriction of specific uses is another matter altogether, which I think is one of the only "correct" answers to such a question.

And then there's a third guy, in the middle, called Eric Brende, who is actually mentioned to have written a book called Better Off: Flipping the Switch on Technology. He made me smile, then gradually frown, then shout out, holding my magazine as if it were to blame. And I quote, hoping that I'm not breaching any weird copyright laws here:

"No technology was ever invented that doesn't have some legitimate use. Automobiles, which I try to use as little as possible, make great ambulances. Even cocaine, which I also avoid, was first devised by a doctor as a local anesthetic. Of course, there's television, the possible exception, which was probably invented to rot our brains."

OK, my friend, you're officially an opinionated idiot in my book. Or maybe someone who really, really hasn't watched enough TV lately to form an opinion, but still chooses to express one, and in a pretty cool magazine for that matter. Same difference. And yes, I know it was just ironic. But it's even bad irony: choose something that people DON'T usually express an opinion against, man, if you really really really want to show how smart you are by being ironic. TV is just now starting to gain the acknowledgement it deserves, don't diss it that way.

It's weird though. One can pretend to be unbiased and informed, with well thought out opinions and the works. But eventually one will start making exceptions. Even I do, and I'm the one who's been whining about this all along. And it's when you start making exceptions that you start being truly wrong. Either make none, and express your thoughts as "general tendencies", or make up another general exception for your "rule". Or something.

Anyway, I just wanted to get that off my chest. I'm done now.

Deep Enough

2006-01-15T13:02:00.000Z

A couple of days ago, a person who is (on any other day) one of my favourite people in the world, an ex boyfriend of mine with similar in strength - yet completely different in focus - intellectual, sociological and philosophical concerns as myself, expressed a truly radical opinion about creation, referring specifically to creative computer programmes and the like.

He said, and he was quite ludicrously wrong the way he expressed it, that he himself can do anything anyone else can, given the same computer programme and the internet, with all its tutorials and help files. What he was trying to say was that, well, all computer programmes speak the same "language", they have buttons and controls that perform various functions, and if you know what you want to do and the programme is capable of doing it, it's only a matter of time before you understand the specifics of the programme's function in order to produce the required results.

Of course, when he said so, I was shocked and offended, just as everyone else (most of "everyone else" being more creative people than I). It sounded as if he was trying to say that creativity is "worthless", that it's just a skill or a craft, that artists in any computer-related medium do nothing but use a programme, in the same way that an accountant uses a programme to do his job. And obviously many of us were hasty in producing examples of awesome digital art which we believe nobody could do "just to prove a point". And, the way we saw it, we were mostly right.

Nobody can do something exemplary "just for the effect". Nobody can learn a skill or craft that will inspire others, unless it's a priority or a dream of theirs to do so, unless they have reasons to pursue such a feat. But yes, anyone who spends the time necessary, anyone who invests the required effort into learning a programme - or any craft for that matter - will eventually master it; often faster and better than they initially imagine.

Yet that's not all. In order to be truly exemplary, an artist instead of a craftsman, one has to go deep enough. Deep enough into one's chosen craft or art, and deep enough into one's soul. And when one does, and produces something spattered with droplets of one's heart, and shares it with the world, only then is one truly exemplary.

Creation Vs Creation

2006-01-15T03:08:00.000Z

There's a harsh debate going on at the moment among TV geeks like myself. Lots of us are trying hard to prove that TV is gradually becoming "better than film". Series like Firefly, Lost, Veronica Mars, Arrested Development and what-have-you have gone miles beyond most films we know of -well, in a sense.

Well, you know what? TV is better than nothing. And neither is film. Or any other creative medium for that matter. There's no comparison, unless you compare specific characteristics, shared by both media in the "contest", and only using specific examples for each. "The acting / character development / whatever in This-and-that TV series is better than that in Some-or-other film", say. But no medium is, in itself, better than any other.

I remember how people used to compare film with the theatre, a while ago. I think it's been established by now that there's no actual comparison between the two. It's not a "shame" for an actor to star in films instead of theatrical plays anymore, I hope, and everyone knows that a theatrical director is not the same as a film director, for example. Each medium has different requirements, different talents to showcase, different focal points and different guidelines for expression through it. So what gives?

Is it that hard to make the same distinction among film and TV? The latter offers serialised storytelling, on a small screen, with different writers and a different "code". Why would it be compared to film, and why would it want to be "better"? It's just different...

I think what they're trying to express is the fact that television series have started to realise their full potential, as a motion video form of serialised fiction. And yes, it was about time it did. It's about time TV becomes accepted for what it is, or what it can be: an art of its own.

It's just that, after film achieved the title of "the 7th art", we've just lost count. Throughout the 20th century, and the first 6 years or so of the 21st, which we're now experiencing, a myriad of different artforms, with extraordinary artistic potential, have emerged and achieved public recognition in one way or another. From graphic design to photography, from advertising to comics, from 3D animation to graffiti, and even less recognised - to this day at least - forms of creation, like webcomics, flash animations, machinima, you name it...

Some day someone artier than me, someone who lectures in a university instead of just pretending to study in one, will come along and say "Hey, you know what? Anything anyone does to express oneself, originally and creatively and with any kind of skill, is an art... Who's counting?"... And everyone will say "Hey, we knew that all along!"... Well, you know what? It's time to act like it. Humph.

Any human heart...

2006-01-09T17:18:00.000Z

I believe I've mentioned (more than once) that I firmly believe everyone out there is potentially loveable and admirable, and one can always find out if offered the chance, or the time & effort, or the right circumstances.

I just came across what I considered an excellent example of human behaviour, in a friend of mine whom I've known for almost a decade. This friend of mine is called Nick, he's a roleplayer (yep, the kind of geek that plays RPGs like DnD and such) and is self-admittedly "Lawful Stupid". His heart is a great and shiny object, and although he can get overly miserable at times (he's been compared - by us mostly - to Marvin, the robot from the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, in many occasions), he's truly one of those people I'm grateful to be able to call "my friends". We don't share that many common interests (well, he is a Firefly fan, but what sentient being that's given it a chance isn't?) and our popculture interests seem to drift further apart as time goes by, having different priorities and tastes and all, but never once have I doubted that he is indeed a wonderful person.

And today he went and proved that again, the bastard. It wasn't anything ground-breaking, or anything that affected me personally, and it was something to be expected from him, but it still made me think, and it was one of those moments when my faith in humanity was reassured - I love it when that happens, and if you keep your eyes open it happens more often than you'd expect...

For some weird reason, and although I myself haven't played any RPGs for many a year, I keep in touch with a specific circle of friends back in Greece through a greek RPG forum. It gets on my nerves much more often than I'd like it to, but I keep writing there for various reasons. And he writes there too. So, since he's still "one of them", an old sage in those crowds, he was offered "moderator status" the other day in the all-important RPG topics.

So, you'd expect most people to be "corrupted" by authority - even "pretend" authority like the kind you would find on an internet forum. But no. He actually started caring, he became more involved, more aware of his influence and stood firmly by his duties as a moderator, even when that conflicted with what he, personally, would find fun or reassuring, where he still a regular user. And, especially in these crowds, where geekiness leads to low self-esteem and vice versa, and low self esteem is a great recipe for vulnerable, power-hungry egos, this man stood proud and was his brilliant, lawful stupid self despite all odds - despite mean and jealous comments that could push him the other way.

And I'm proud. I'm proud to have known this person for such a long time, I'm proud to be able to count him among the people I care about. He's probably not the first person I'd call to say "Happy New Year" or anything, but he's still my friend. And he deserves it.

Shake baby shake...

2006-01-09T17:05:00.000Z

I'm guessing most of you will have heard about the earthquake a couple of days ago in Greece... It was huge, its epicentre was Cythera island but it even affected Italy, Turkey and Egypt from what I'm told...

Well, the thing is, I grew up in Greece, and every single time there's an earthquake there I get really emotional about it. No, it's not negative emotions, or fear, or any of those things... It's just that humbling awe you get when you're reminded that the little things we worry about every day don't mean a thing in the "big picture"...

I wasn't there for this one, but I was present during the "big one" in Athens a few years back... I felt my feet shaking for a few days, it took a while for things to go back to normal again, but I was really grateful for that... I was impressed by the way people around me reacted. Even my dad, being an engineer, offered a helping hand or advice where he could. Everyone was nice to everyone else for a few days, everyone there had something in common, a common worry, a common experience. It was sad to see how little it lasted, but it was wonderful while it did.

And it's just nature's way of reminding us that, compared to the infinite wonder of the universe, human achievement and the banality of everyday life and its issues, we're all just a leaf in the wind.

And, as bad as it may be for those truly affected, the bottom line is that some of us got to dance for a few seconds, whether they wanted to or not. Everyone needs to dance once in a while, to forget about trivial things and just move... Good thing nature forces us to, whenever she feels like it :D

Devious Deviants: Divide & Conquer

2006-01-07T04:20:00.000Z

I just woke up. Yes, I know it's 4:30 in the morning, but I fell asleep at around 10, decidedly drunk and happy with my day.

The full story is as follows: We had a revision session for European Cinema, taught by one of my 2 favourite lecturers, and one of my 30 or so favourite people in the Universe - those of you who have seen our last year's film will know who I'm talking about. Yeah, that guy...

We were having a smoke outside, just before class, and naturally he came over, we offered him a cigarette and the "interested" crowd (no more than 5 people out of a 100-or-so people course) and him talked about academia and stuff.

He then offered to take us to the pub after class, so that's precisely what happened (exam nerves seem to disappear when the guy is so brilliantly entertaining - I mean, who cares about European cinema? I'll tell you who: people who have Ron as a professor...). So there we were, drinking and talking about cinema and life in general and cinema and films and cinema.

What struck me as so wonderful and unique and blogworthy was the actual crowd. There we were, three people from Greece, one from Britain and one from Sweden with a South African accent (Iwona was working as usual so she couldn't make it), each with their own completely different tastes and opinions on the same general subject - Chris is into classic black & white cinema, Bergman and such, John is into indie arty contemporary stuff, Than is into comedy and "making your film with any means you've got", I'm the kind that will justify my tastes as "new media", anything innovative and original yet classically effective, while Ron, the lecturer, a 50- or 60-something year old man with the heart of a 20-year-old, is into Nicholas Ray and vintage American cinema in general.

Still, all of us connected so well. We viewed the same subjects the same way, and, no matter if we disagreed on almost everything tastes-wise, we discovered the exact same things from completely different viewpoints. The chemistry was magical. And everyone there was glad to be there, to be part of this odd and wondrous group.

So, no, you don't choose the people you like, or love, because they're as close as possible to you. That never broadens your horizons wide enough, there's nothing there for you to learn and expand. You choose the people you can communicate with, the people that can show you a different window through which to see the same lovely view of the world outside that you're humbled by.

Artists are people too...

2006-01-04T01:37:00.000Z

Just to make things clear, I use the term "artist" here loosely. Just take it to mean "anyone whose creations you admire, love or value in any way". And yep, contrary to what you may think or feel, they're people too. You may place them on pedestalls in your heart, you may be grateful that they exist, create and share their works with you, but we're still created equal. And yes, I'm not that oblivious, I know that you've probably figured that out by now.

I'm just writing this to remind everyone, including myself, of this simple fact: You can be like them if you want to. And you won't be all that different to the way you are now. All you need to do is figure out a way, and follow it through, and you'll get there eventually. Just define your target, keep it clear in your head, and once you reach it, change it. And, of course, don't be affected by any "dream come true" crisis, 'cause that happens quite a lot.

I've met people whom I consider "somebodies" in various creative fields. I've known some people whom I consider "somebodies" before they even started being so. Big or small, our input into this world is bound to be valued by someone out there, even if it's just our mother or our friends. And the only way for people to appreciate what you are is to show them. Put something out there for the world to see, don't just daydream of it - find a way.

Joss Whedon, Rob Thomas, the Weinstein brothers, Warren Ellis, Grant Morrison, Scott Kurtz, that guy who started wikipedia, Than and most of my closest friends (most of them have something in my links there --->), they're all people I admire, and this is far from the full list, but none of these people seem 100% happy with themselves. It's a shame, the way I see it, but that's what keeps them going: they still have things to strive for. They're all, to some level, open to or grateful for your admiration, but they're still unsatisfied. Just like you probably are.

You meet people, and they're all potentially loveable, depending on how well you get to know them, how effectively they show themselves and how compatible your personalities happen to be. Same goes with people you admire. The only thing that separates "artists" (of the "famous" variety) from the rest of us folk is that they express themselves through things that have reached you before their physical presence has managed to do the same.

And yes, next time I see Joss Whedon, my heart will flutter, I will be honoured by the simple sight of his quirky auburn hair. He will still be one of the folk that make me who I am, and show me who I want to be. But for himself, he'll still be just a guy (sorry Ted :P).

Artificial Stupidity

2006-01-04T00:34:00.000Z

To quote the Buffy musical episode, "I have a theory".

It goes something like this: few people are truly "stupid". I don't believe we are born "tabula rasa" per se (I studied biochemistry and genetics for way too many years to stick to that belief), but I do tend to think that, in this matter at least (as with many others), where the nature Vs nurture battle comes in, nurture wins. Especially in cases of "viable offspring" of humankind, with a quasi-normal genome and what-have-you.

One's IQ has been proven to be able to fluctuate within a lifetime, and "imho" - and the "ho" of others before me - IQ is not a 100% reliable form of "measuring intelligence" anyway, since intelligence itself is a debateable term, drawing mainly from social and personal expectations and standards. And one may find that a person they once thought of as unintelligent may prove to be intelligent after all, even according to the same person's standards - just look at the millions of examples of students who were classified as "non-bright" that end up achieving great results, either at school or later on in life. Intelligence is such a relative term, such a matter of circumstance, so arbitrary...

I tend to face people with very little leniency as regards to my expectations of their intelligence. I do realise that this is only based on my own definitions of intelligence, my own understanding of each case and each person as we interact, and my own value of what-I-call-intelligence above other things such as avoidance of offense to others. And I can't help but accept that this causes me more grief than it does to others - although I do tend to avoid taking such matters too personally or too emotionally, or even "for granted". All my opinions, estimates and judgements hold true for me only until proven otherwise, or until I think of "better ones", anyway.

But the truth of the matter is, I do believe that what's ultimately responsible for a person's intelligence is themselves. Yes, I firmly believe that circumstance and their upbringing play a major part in this, but, just as we won't "completely forgive" a criminal because of his upbringing or the circumstances of their crime, I still believe that, all things taken into consideration, anyone could possibly have evolved otherwise, and there's always a chance to learn better.

Maybe if my father hadn't sat me down when I was three years old to teach me how to read and write, and if he hadn't told me off for not remembering what "k" looked like the first time around (this is probably my first memory - a Mel Trivial for you lucky readers), maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be here writing this blog post today. But then again... who knows? I could have discovered that reading and writing appealed to me anyway when I eventually went to Grammar School, and, one thing leading to another, I could have had the same urge to write this specific post tonight, using these exact words. Who can tell?

Still, just take a person whom you consider stupid as your personal example. Picture them in your mind, remember the time when you last thought "hey, he's so bloomin' stoo-pid!" and hold that thought. Just assume, for a moment, that they really are stupid, that your verdict was correct and that your current definition of what stupidity actually is holds true for mankind in general (which it doesn't, but just pretend, for the sake of this thought experiment). Then ask yourself why this person reacted in that specific way. Was it the way they were brought up? Was it the fact that they spoke or acted before applying the necessary thought? Was it because they hadn't yet been exposed to the same experiences, ideas or knowledge that you have? It may be a combination of these factors, and possibly even more. But all of these factors are usually changeable, up to a certain point. It's just a matter of "Is it worth the effort?" or "Why should I bother? I'm not their mother!"

So, Than, next time you tell me off about spending too much time or effort trying to "educate the masses" or "explain things that should be obvious to people who refuse to understand them", just attribute it to my own mild version of a Messiah Syndrome, and smile 'cause you love the oft-romantic idiot that is me.

No Lines Mean Everything's Between The Lines

2005-12-26T08:03:00.000Z

I was just discussing, in yet another way-too-long forum discussion, about how everything is a tradeoff, in creativity specifically. Everyone has their own set of priorities regarding their creative expression, and based on those priorities people go about their creative paths choosing one option over another. Someone may prefer to sacrifice fame and fortune, for example, in order not to ever compromise the form and content of what they make according to the standards of a specific industry. Others may prefer to find a way to express themselves in ways that would conform with or appeal to the industry in question, in order to eventually manage to quit their day jobs and do creative stuff for a living. Whether that is a total sell-out or a noble cause is in the eye of the beholder.

And then I thought about my own goals and aspirations, about my own priorities and dreams. Well, one thing is for sure: I want to write for a living, eventually. I would be content to write based on what other people tell me to write - I've been doing it for most of my life anyway, along with my own stuff. And, no matter what, I have this blog where I can always directly express my thoughts, emotions, hopes and feelings - nobody's stopping me, as long as I have a minute of spare time. And I can always make stuff "for me" that stays in my hard drive or my drawers or is read by nobody but my friends and family. But I want to get to the point where I will be paid, quite good money, to exercise my craft and fulfill a market of viewers or readers to the best of my ability.

I remember being younger, and writing, and showing my friends what I made. There were people who liked my stuff back then too. There were people (slightly maturer people) who like my stuff now. But I have nothing out there that's truly "out there" for all to see and judge. That's the ultimate challenge. That's where you really find out if you're actually any good. And the fact that nothing of mine is "out there" means that I'm not even a small step on the way of actually becoming any good in the near future. But there's always the far future to hope for, and I'm already making the first steps towards making those first steps ;)

Still, I already have figured out what I would and wouldn't compromise. I would never, for instance, write on lined paper. I can't. It's one of those things I literally cannot do. Even my university notes I write on blank A4 paper. Lines restrict me too much, whether I'm writing, or sketching, or just jotting things down. It's a compromise I'm not willing to make - lines for me are the ultimate symbol for conformism. There's a feeling inside me that I can find ways to express myself through anything, however much it's supposed to conform to certain norms; there's always a small window for deviation or for originality, or just for "saying things your way", but not when there's lines on the paper, telling you where to write and how to compose your manuscript. I know, it doesn't make any sense, except in my head.

Do I actually have a real life? Naaaah...

2005-12-23T12:21:00.000Z

Yep, I know I haven't written much lately. I will at some point. I have post-it notes with blog post ideas and thoughts on them all over my desk. And essays to finish, but that's a whole different story.

That's the good thing about this blog, really: it's not a job. It's just here, for me, and for people to read if they want to, when I have something to say, and the time and patience to say it.

So, now I had five minutes and thought of fulfilling my fantasy of having actual people wondering why I haven't written anything for a while... I outdid myself just before this break, so I'm sure everyone will have something to read (it's in white font, so it's not directly printable for toilet reading usage, but hey... :P).

Anyways, I'll be around. I promised myself. This is cool.

Laughter is indeed the best medicine...

2005-12-06T04:36:00.000Z

There's a theory out there about laughter. It's based on the fact that when monkeys "laugh" it's an aggressive expression, where they're "showing their teeth" to weaker members of their pack.
It goes on about how laughter is in fact an expression of a feeling of superiority.

That's why, according to this theory, we laugh at slapstick humor - bad things happening to people - or at racist, sexist, discriminating etc jokes. When we laugh at something directed at us, it's just because we feel that we're beyond that remark, either because it is untrue or exaggerated, or because we don't care about its truth.

When we laugh at jokes directed to a group we belong to, it's because we're able to separate ourselves from the stereotype, but we're aware of its existence. My mother will laugh at blonde jokes, although she's blonde, because she feels secure about her intelligence. I will laugh at jokes about women, or about Greeks, or any other group I belong to but don't identify with its stereotypes. And I started laughing at Bluthan's jokes about my ass for example when I realised that he likes it the way it is and stopped feeling threatened.

And that's why we stop laughing at jokes which we've heard too many times before. They start being annoying, so they affect us. Or we refuse to identify with the person who tells the joke, because his recent realisation is our already-possessed knowledge, so in a sense he is inferior to us - or we take no pride in the realisation.

We laugh at things we believe are beneath us, or inconsequential to us. There are indeed times where it would be inappropriate to make a joke - we would feel guilty making a joke about someone we cared about at his funeral, or if we know that someone in the "audience" of the joke is not comfortable with its subject matter - but I do think that laughing things off is the best way to come to terms with them. When we start seeing things as funny, we find reasons why it should not annoy us. When we laugh at something, we cast it aside, and we allow ourselves to stop worrying about it.

So, next time something bothers you, try and find ways to make it sound funny in your head. Invent jokes about it, exaggerate it, parody it. It's been working for me, lately, and I'm happier. And, mark my word, it will never stop you from doing what needs to be done about it - if anything, it just helps you think clearer, see the big picture and face it effectively.

Ars Gratia Artis

2005-12-01T16:41:00.000Z

The worst thing in the world, in my book, just after Erich Von Dainiken and gumbo.
Let me elaborate (as if you have a choice...):

Once upon a time, all art served a purpose. It was either there to show off the creator's technical aptitudes, or to pay tribute to gods or kings, to pass across some message, or just to entertain the public. And those were great times indeed. There were no "experts" deciding what was worthy of the title of "art", there was no elitism involved (unless you count skill-related and public acceptance-related contests among artists themselves) and there were no people around trying to prove they know their shite in a field where omniscience is impossible.

Until one day, can't really tell you the exact date and time, some Jo Aristocrat decided that, since he can't really do anything creative, and since he knows of a few people that can, it was his job and his alone to decide what's good and what's not. And he managed to convince several other people of the truth of his statements, or at least of his (and their) right to decide. And the more they manifested their beliefs and personal tastes, the more credit they gained, just because.

It's funny how people like to be told what to believe, what to like and what not to like, what to accept and what not to accept, even though they almost never admit it. This is the exact attitude that led to art of all kinds being mutated into a quasi-scientific field like mathematics. Which really doesn't make sense to me, let me tell you, since the basic premise of art is that its value should be in the eye of the beholder. What speaks to me, because of my personality, experiences, aesthetic taste and the mere fact that I noticed or dwelled upon something you didn't, doesn't necessarily speak to you, or your brother, or your teacher who's an "expert".

So now there's all these self-appointed artists around, who just do something, name it art, and thus rid themselves of any responsibility. Immediately, their creation is labelled "art" whereas in other cases it would have been ignored or despised by any given member of the public.

It's useless to apply the word "art" to anything that may seem interesting, provoking (aesthetically or intellectually) or beautiful to someone. Everything may mean something to someone, so it's unbearably wholistic. Admittedly, it's shorter to say "art" than to say "something someone somewhere found interesting", but why would one want to point something like that out, I wonder?

Social Science Non-Fiction

2005-11-28T17:14:00.000Z

When you fantasize about finding a time machine, going back in time and impressing the "people of the past" with "the future" you live in - everyone does that, right? I'm not just weird or anything, huh? Oh well... - you usually think in terms of gadgets you can carry with you... Like, say, the new cellphone with a 2 Megapixel camera, a colour screen, an mp3 player and internet capabilities...

But, actually, what will be taught in the future about our era, in the same "world-changing" way that the Industrial Revolution, the formulation of modern scientific thought after the Middle Ages, or the invention of writing is taught and discussed today, is the Internet, alone and in its entirety.

Its social, cultural, philosophical, political etc applications are already huge, while its actual potential is not even close to being explored. So I can't help but thank Time and Mankind for the chance to be present during its conception, birth and early steps, and I can't wait to see its potential unravel. So far, despite its many shortcomings and problems (useless websites, forum flame threads and secretly-fat-girl-angle-shots, among others), I'm really proud of its path in recent history.

Saint Isaac of Scientific Humanism would be proud.

Therapy?

2005-11-25T13:35:00.000Z

I just realised the actual concept of this blog, why I made it and why it's so addictive. It's a way for me to record my thoughts regarding myself and the world around me - the parts of it that interest me, at least - in an attempt to better myself. To see what I know and what I don't, to reflect upon my hopes and fears, and, as several really anonymous alcoholics would put it, to find "the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference". Like a prayer (thank you, Madonna).

I'm not exactly sure who it's addressed to. It could be the ones whom I'd like to get to know me better, like my parents or my imaginary future fans... It could be an invisible therapist-god... It could be myself... or all of the above, and anyone else who cares to join the party. But it's a mystery, a monster or a spirit, a trip Back to the Future through my past and present.

This post is an attempt to name it, using its true name, and thus, according to Ursula LeGuin's Earthsea novels, gain control over it. I really hope it works.

- And yes, you guessed correctly, this is an 80's themed post... Guess what else was born in the 80's... Yours Truly -

Scientific Thinking in Everyday Life - Part 3: Biology

2005-11-25T11:10:00.000Z

I tend to view humanity wholistically - not as a species, but as a single organism. An organism with the ability to reemerge even when a single set of "cells" (read "a male and female human couple") survives - and possibly in the future it will gain the ability to survive and reproduce with the help of a single "cell" and technology. It's an organism that, like a single human being, grows and evolves not only biologically, but cognitively as well - it matures in different ways, it sometimes learns from its mistakes and sometimes repeats certain behavioural patterns, sometimes has to run and sometimes has to fight, sometimes just sits around doing next to nothing and sometimes is really proud, or ashamed, of what it just did. Sometimes it's ill and sometimes it feels pretty well but illness is just around the corner. And sometimes it exercises and becomes stronger, faster, more flexible, more defined, more able, or just stiff from not stretching before and after exercising.

I understand and treat humanity as a single person. A person with its own occasional wants, needs, fears, motivations etc. On an overall level, of course, which emerges from the relative influence of the wants, needs, blah blah of each of its component "cells". And in order for this living organism to survive, each of its cells are arranged into organs, and tissues, and clusters. They are, in fact, able to switch between these groups almost at will, according to their environment and/or their own goals, almost like stem cells, but regarding each and every specific task they voluntarily or involuntarily have a role to play in the general order of things.

And every kind of tissue is practically necessary, and influential in one way or another. From brain cells which just sit around thinking or storing and sorting memories, eating up their share of resources, to muscle cells which do all the manual work and are quite simple in form and function, being directed and controlled by the neural cells automatically (through reflexes) or case-specifically. And there's also the immune system, which checks to see if all the tissues and organs and separate cells are doing their job right, and if they aren't, it acts accordingly - either taking care of the problem discreetly, or, in extreme cases, letting the organism know that something is wrong so it can help. And in cases where the immune system runs wild, or gets out of hand or out of focus, you get allergies, or autoimmune diseases (in which case you're usually screwed).

So, thankfully, the humanity-organism is much more effective and strong than the human body, as it has proven in oh so many cases in history (or the present). And it will most likely survive to live a long, productive life. But it's still a kid, so cut it some slack.

Scientific Thinking in Everyday Life - Part 2: Logic

2005-11-25T10:50:00.000Z

That's Logic in the mathematical - philosophical sense, obviously. It's not a science in itself, but it's pretty scientific; it's part of math, in any case.

Philosophically, there are so many fallacies one can fall into. Certain professions, such as advertising or law (where lawyers are involved), actually use the human mind's succeptibility to them to their advantage. And that's because the succeptibility is there, and it's strong.

Most people, whatever their level of education (although having none whatsoever really helps), often fall into such traps in one way or another. They only take the time to examine how logically sound the arguments they make or accept are when they really care about the actual truth - if then.

I implore my co-debaters (and myself) to examine their every argument or set of arguments based on how they occur logically from actual given (and certainly true) facts, or at least compare the probability of what they claim actually being true to the "strength" or "certainty" of their conclusions. I am almost unable to discuss any subject with anyone that doesn't at least try to do so - or anyone who doesn't realise that they aren't.

And that's precisely the reason why I almost went mad when I tried to discuss important subjects with a professional lawyer, a couple of months ago. Yes, really, I almost went mad. The "it does not compute" error message was flashing before my eyes every few seconds. And that's also something I should get over: people don't think, and don't always want to think, like computers. Things don't have to make logical sense to them if they prefer them not to, and the human mind's ability to convince itself of things that are not backed by the "proof" offered by our senses is what makes us dreamers, storytellers, imagineers. And it's a kind of magic, whether you choose to believe in it or not.

Scientific Thinking in Everyday Life - Part 1: Chemistry

2005-11-25T10:30:00.000Z

I'm often impressed by the ways in which certain elements of scientific thinking can be applied to "outside" subjects. Especially sociological / "current events and issues" discussions.

I'll start with one example, and move on to more as I think of them.

Chemical equations appear simple to the new initiate. They have the first part of the equation, and they figure out the second part, simply by seeing what is there and theoretically assuming what would be produced if these elements reacted. And, in this sense, it works both ways.

But in the "real world", there are many more elements to consider. From the electronegativity of the elements involved, to the activation energy or the sub-steps involved, or even the saturation or contents of the solution - the presence of inhibitors or facilitators or whatever.

When speaking about a certain subject, people sometimes tend to apply the initial chem-student approach to things. They have in mind certain "elements in the equation", and automatically assume that the result will be what logically follows from these elements alone. There are always other factors to consider, and the only way to be truly certain of a certain result is experimentation, yet they are content to draw results based on the facts they have in mind alone.

Personally, I prefer to speak about the future based on as many facts as I can gather, and still express my opinion as just that: an opinion - or a hope, a fear, an intention. I try to offer each partner in the discussion/debate as clear a view as possible of the factors I'm aware of, and try to learn as much as possible about the factors they, in turn, are aware of, in order to make my own prediction as close to the "absolute" truth as possible, yet still remaining aware that there may be factors that could contribute to a margin of experimental error. Still, I'm often misunderstood, just because of this way of thinking, and the fact that people prefer to prove (right now) that they are smarter, or "right", in a debate, than actually find out or approximate the truth. I at least try not to be caught in such traps - I hope to succeed in doing so more and more as I live my life.

Circular History?

2005-11-24T14:28:00.000Z

I was wandering through the web, yesterday. And I stumbled upon this guy's blog - he sent me a mass email in September letting me know about it and about his change of email address. He's some sort of hotshot CS - encryption guy and avid blogger called Scott Aaronson. I didn't get a chance to check it out earlier - I don't know the man, I'd just sent him a fan-email at some point when I read some great sci-fi stories he'd written, on his website. So I spent the whole day reading his blog and pestering everyone around me about it. One moment I was glad that there's still hope in this world, that there are still great, innovative, open-minded thinkers out there to counterbalance the idiots I've been encountering for the last few months (no, reader, of course I don't mean you), and the next moment I was wondering if I'd made the right life-choices after all, renouncing my nerdiness and cutting off my ties to science.

I was a nerd, once. Much nerdier than you could ever imagine. But at some point, back when I was 13 years old, I had a choice: should I be popular, at least with the guys (I was a tomboy back then), and try to keep my nerdier interests and way of thinking on the side, or should I go on, friendless and bullied on, for the rest of my life (read "the rest of my school life", which was as far down the road as I could see, back then), and have my computer and my Knowledge-beyond-my-years-or-gender as my only ally? I chose the first option, but Terry Pratchett's trousers of time were so tight they split me in half. And, about a year and a half ago, I had to make another choice.

Screw you Biochemistry, I want to live. I want to have fun, I want to offer the world cute-and-trivial things like films and comics, which won't save mankind, but will hopefully make someone's life a tad more enjoyable. Even if he's dying of cancer. Even if it's my fault, for not enduring the boring lab-work and finding the cure for his type of disease.

So now I can't fit in with the nerds anymore, that time is long, long gone. I can't really fit in with the geeks, 'cause most of them are much more resistant to new scientific knowledge and experiences (no, really - with a few exceptions, as always) - most of them were never really nerds. The arty crowds are not for me, I'm not into modern art and analysis, I just want to make stuff. And I can't, I really can't, fit in with the "regular" crowds, 'cause they don't get me at all. So, in one sense, I'm kind of in the same position I was in back at school, where I could find nobody "quite like me" around.

Only now I'm not bullied. And I get more, and better, and more diverse, sex than all of the people who ever bullied me in Elementary School combined. Seems like a good deal to me.

Make me laugh...

2005-11-22T14:43:00.000Z

There's a well-known quote attributed to WH Auden out there: "In those whom I like, I can find no common denominator; in those whom I love I can: they all make me laugh". It's amazing how much I agree with it.

And I can explain it too. I'm always attracted to intelligent and witty people, who think out of the box. It makes sense that a person with a great sense of humor will see the world differently: what makes us laugh is the uncommonness, the unexpectedness of the joke, the impression it makes upon us. That's why jokes get tired after a while - we get used to the idea.

People who teach themselves to be funny tend to challenge the world around them in interesting ways. They challenge stereotypes, or things we mistakenly or unfoundedly take as given, in order to think of good jokes. They even challenge the way they see themselves or react to criticism, 'cause that leads to great self-sarcasm. To this day, I haven't found a person whom I find truly funny and isn't more open-minded than myself.

And that's something I need from the people close to me. I need to learn, I need to think, I need to challenge... I need to accept. And, naturally, it does no harm to just laugh away your worries, laugh away your sins, every once in a while.

Genetically Manipulated Social Standards

2005-11-16T10:14:00.000Z

I've spent the past couple of weeks debating Genetically Manipulated (GM) food in a Greek RPG/Fantasy forum full of 80s-minded sociological naysayers. It's been hell, and good fun, on and off. And it's full of ultra-lengthy posts, so bear with me on this one too.

The conversation made me remember how I feel about nature, its miraculous methods and the noble human quest of exploring it through science. And yes, it sounds kind of utopian to judge science based on this alone. That's why I don't.

The Philosophy of Science accepts one basic premise: we can never be sure about anything. Science, as a means of comprehending the Universe, has no absolutes: anything that was once taken for granted can be completely overturned at any given moment. The Earth is not flat, Aristotle's physics was a bunch of horse-poo, and Einstein wasn't 100% correct after all. Every scientific experiment write-up includes a calculation of the percentage of uncertainty involved in it, due to several parametres in every case that could affect the results of the experiment and that could not be monitored, let alone kept constant - and the calculation itself is wrong in every single case.

Due to the above, science usually has to assume that a premise is proven by a "successful" experiment, until proven otherwise. Still, historically, there has never been a safer or more reliable tool than the scientific method to help us understand the world around us - apart from Plato's "I know nothing except the fact of my ignorance," which, while true in every case, is also not very productive. Until something better is discovered or invented, we'll have to make do with the flaw-ridden means we have.

Therefore, it is always a difficult task to call the limits: to decide on a point whereforth it is safe to assume that things are the way we think they are. And in cases such as genetic manipulation technology, whose promises are vast and numerous, and the possible negative consequences are a huge, complex mystery, a heated debate ensues - much longer, deeper, more intense and post-heavy than the one in the aforementioned forum.

We're discussing a technology (or a network of technologies) here that is way too complex to theorise upon. It's not a toaster, where you know the risks of bringing it out into the market - it may overheat, it may electrocute the user, it may heat the toast unevenly - and can do something about preventing them... It involves the use and study of a language we're not familiar with, the language of life itself.

So, yes, if we're trying to learn this language, to form sentences that express what we want, we may, and will, make mistakes. Syntax, expressions we're not aware of, pronounciation... unsteady ground. Like a child forming its first phrases, copying and repeating what it hears spoken around it. And the results of such mistakes could be funny, or catastrophical. The child has no idea which words are supposed to go together, or which words could be considered offensive by grown-ups under any given circumstances. But that's a stage we must go through, before we can eventually write poetry, or read a philosophy book.

And, speaking of learning, when I was a child, my father wouldn't let me open the PC box and play around with the components, from fear of me being electrocuted. Needless to say, I did it when he wasn't there, I changed motherboards or hard drives, I played around with the jumpers, and sometimes "broke it", but I never did get electrocuted. I learned a lot though. That's precisely what I see scientists doing right now.

So, nobody in their right minds can demand that genetic research be stopped altogether, the way I see it. But it still needs to be monitored - we need to find, and uphold, measures for the various "things that could go wrong", and review these measures every time we discover something new. Still, mass hysteria, especially in layman's levels, does much more harm than good.

And nature is adaptable, in any case. Much more adaptable than we could ever realise. I mean, what's the worse thing that could happen? What, relating to Genetic Manipulation, wouldn't we survive, what wouldn't we notice early enough to do something about it before it manages to wipe out our entire race? We're people, dammit. We're far from perfect, but we're good enough.

But mankind tends to focus on the negative side, on examples of "how things went wrong in that case" or "how things could, ceteris paribus, go wrong in the future". We'll notice the one case where a GM food product was proven to be "bad for us" and not the thousands that make our lives better or easier or our shopping cheaper, just as we'll notice the one animal that became extinct (with no further effects on its ecosystem, usually), and not the millions of species that manage to survive and adapt under difficult circumstances (Damn you, cockroaches! Damn you all to hell!).

Yet, it's a good thing that we do. This negativity is the exact mindframe that allows us, as a species, to survive and adapt. We keep our eyes open for possible dangers. It's just a matter of doing it right, with the right focus and grounding. We shouldn't be "afraid" of GM foods because "the idea of bettering a species reminds us of Nazi experiments" or because "Life is too sacred to be toyed with and we have no place to play God"... I mean, come ON. It's simpler than that. It's dangerous because, scientifically speaking, we're playing with fire. And again, this is the same fire that will keep us warm, that will cook our food, that will teach us something about itself and ourselves, and will also be so beautiful to watch. But if we're not careful, we may burn our fingers, or our house down.

So yeah, I have to go now, after a post and a half of preaching. I'm off to cut myself a Granny Smith apple, which I bought last week and still hasn't gone bad. And, sprinkled with cinammon, it's quite the treat.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger...

2005-11-14T10:21:00.000Z

My academic adventures have been long and hard (excuse the pun).

Since I can remember myself, I went to a high-class private school in Greece. Given that the only reason I was there was that my mother was head of its English department, and back then my family wasn't as well-off as it is now (my father is the "rags to riches"- "did it the hard way" type), it offered me quite a few challenges. I was quite a nerd as well, which didn't help either.
Still, it did offer me quite a high level of basic education, with "greek origins - european standards - worldwide objectives" (loosely quoted and translated), and quite strenuous "life experience" - I learned to try and find myself, despite the odds, and I got to learn "that other stuff", found within books and teachers.

Then I went on, as I was supposed to, reading Biochemistry in the uber-prestigious University of Edinburgh. And I liked the city, the theory and the title, so much more than I could ever like the course itself - given the "sheep-shepherding", long - boring - uninteresting - unrewarding laboratory activities. And I went through my version of hell, most of it self-inflicted. So I decided to spend 4 years of my life there. How smart of me.
And it was worth it. No, it didn't give me a piece of paper to hang on the wall; it offered me so much more instead. It gave me the scientific approach to my overly analytical, artistic way of thinking, it slapped upon me the life lessons that come with catering for oneself for four years, and, as my father said, it threw me in deep waters and taught me to swim.

And most of all, it showed me what I really want to do with my life after all. It sent me all the way from the Capital of the North to the Capital of the South. From the heat of scientific research to the bubbling of creative work. From a dead end to a long highway of possibility. And from a dry and miserable normality to a drowning-pool of potential.

And now I'm here, the last couple of days having overturned the remainder of my stone-set beliefs: I may end up back home, in Greece, after all, like an epic adventurer after a long life of quests, changing my nest to fit the world, just as the world changed me so I no longer fit in my nest.

I was just looking at my final-year-at-school's yearbook. The one with the 5-day trip I never went to, and the toga-wearing graduation ceremony I never showed up for, and the people I envied - of which the ones I've recently seen made me realise the truth in "Unpopular Then: Blooming Now" highschool reunion film plots. I saw myself, and - diets and clothing-style changes aside - I look so much better now. I held the photo next to the mirror, and I was proud. If I knew me back then, I'd fall in love with myself. I wouldn't now, evidently, but I've gone a long way since then. I'm a different person, with a lot left to do, and many more changes to wait and fight for still.

In the words of Mr. Frost, I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. The promises are mainly to myself, and the miles may be walked in a thousand different forests. Still, my walking boots are on, and their laces are tied. Are you ready, boots?

African-American Bread

2005-11-13T12:24:00.000Z

So, I was at the train station the other day, ok? And I was quite nibbly. So I go up to the sandwitch stand, and I ask the guy if there's anything I can have with *black* bread - I'm on this low-GI diet, you see, mainly for health reasons. When I realised what I'd said, I immediately bit my tongue.

You have white bread. Check. But do you have black bread? Noooooo. You have wholemeal bread, or granary bread, or anything else but black. You may call it "brown" bread, which it is, but never "black" bread. OK, so it's not really black, it's light brown. But white bread isn't white either, really. It's just an even lighter shade of brown. Yet we're allowed to simply call "off-white with dark beige crust" bread "white" bread, and everyone knows what general taxonomy of bread we have in mind. We're just not supposed to simplify the notion of "not-white" bread into "black bread".
Social conventions of expression are so strange...

Yes, I'm just kidding. A slip of the tongue wouldn't get me a lawsuit, in this case at least. It's just the word itself, which has so many political correctness issues tied to it that it makes my tongue feel heavy every time I say it out loud - every single time I talk about bread, or clothes, or, why not, "that guy in Thursday's seminar group".

The whole issue makes no sense. I would like to think that everyone in their right mind realises how and why a person would be described, appearance-wise, as black. They should also realise, with no need for patronising explanatory remarks and sauce, that it's perfectly free of further connotations - racially hierarchical or otherwise. Still, people get offended. Not by the supposed intentions; just by the word itself.

And it's becoming unfair... Gradually, yet steadily, it does get to the point where, if there is an oppressor present in the matter, it's political correctness itself... The state of things where a person must avoid expressing themselves simply and laconically, to avoid being misquoted, or intentionally misunderstood.
I was never a slavetrader, a KKK member, or a racist for that matter - at least in terms of colour I'm not, because people who choose not to use their heads are indeed inferior in my book - so why must I pay for the mistakes of others, in the year 2005?

And racism only gains more power through this. Take the case of a child with really low self-esteem, at school, for example. If he gets special treatment because of it, we're only acknowledging the fact that he may be regarded as inferior, and, on top of that, we don't ever give him the chance to prove himself, in order to ultimately disprove his contenders. He'll be bullying material for the rest of his life. And the same goes with racism.

My gynaecologist is black. He's the one who recommended the low-GI diet, actually. Still, if there weren't racial issues floating around me, I might not have really noticed, or mentioned it to anyone - just like it doesn't affect me that my dentist's hairline is receding and he has an American accent, or that my GP is a 60-year-old lady. They're all good and successful doctors, otherwise I wouldn't trust them with my health. But they're also people, and they each have their own visual characteristics, backgrounds and life stories.

Anyhoo... Just another rant about an issue I can't change. It's out of me now.

Brooding wiff my tea

2005-11-06T18:56:00.000Z

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Naaah... it's just BunnyDee hogging the spotlight.

Gimme a month, and I can make you so sick of me you wish you never knew my name.
Within these past few weeks, I've made a forum (along with Than, Ted and Dim), a blog and a deviantart gallery. All of the aforementioned being spots on the web I wasn't sure if I were worth having. Yet, I still went along with it.

And now I'm three-and-twenty. I've been as much for two whole days. I can't imagine a more terrible punishment the gods could bring upon me for my hubris - and no, you vicious, lightning-bearing, plague-bringing creatures, that wasn't a challenge, it was a complaint.

So how's my script coming along, you ask; my baby...
Oh, how that question stings... Tell you what: ask me again tomorrow.

I'm supposed to be working on this thing for months. It's as if I really were pregnant with a baby of my own. The discomfort, the morning sickness, the uncalled-for yet somehow justified pride, the reading up and asking for advice on how to do it right, they're all there. The dreams of how great it'll be when it's fully born, the unexpected pains... I should've used a creativity condom after all...

I keep feeding and nurturing the foetus, but I'm pretty sure at least nine months must indeed pass before it emerges, bald and weeping, to face the world. And that's when the real trouble will start.

The father's doing a great job, though. My favourite director, sex toy and other half of my two-part-auteur team has finally accepted his parental responsibilities to the max. And made me suffer more while doing it - it really felt like sex during pregnancy.

Yup, the whole plot has changed. Out goes Zero and the Thinking People Society conspiracy, now it's just a mundane story about 4 arty/geeky foreign students in London, trying to make the best of themselves and failing miserably, while still "falling in love with the same girl".
No, they aren't vampires at the end, although that could work too, come to think of it.

Funny thing is, the plot sounds more interesting in my head now that it's simpler. I guess that's how all parents feel, when their child ends up going in a direction they wouldn't have chosen for it themselves: threatened by the concept, but relieved that it's finally heading somewhere.

Still, his help feels like yet another case of me being a fraud, so full of myself I can't even notice my inner complaints. Yep, filmmaking is a collaborative business, and scriptwriting can be too. But that's yet another excuse, just like the others I've been inventing for myself lately, about making a blog, or a deviantart gallery...

Well, screw you, bunny. Screw you creatively and get you pregnant with the Messiah.

I Believe in Shades of Grey

2005-10-30T14:26:00.000Z

I'm not much of a believer anymore. I used to spend my days finding "causes" and "ideologies", trying to squeeze myself into them to justify my sense of purpose. I could say "hey, that's what all teens do", but most teens I've met just parrot what they're told at school, what the teacher or their parents expect to hear. I was quite rebellious against both, even (or especially) after my young punk phase.

I was into debates, you know, back then. The kind of debates where you're not supposed to care if the opinion you're supporting is actually right, and the topics are chosen because "the truth is somewhere in the middle". You're supposed to be interested in proving that you're smarter than your opponents because you can support the case in hand better than they can.

My mother was actually the poor soul that brought the Forensics trend to Greek schools back in the '80s. And since then it has taken off like a Concorde flying from Europe to America, never expected to crash, no matter if it does. Well, I'm the one who missed the flight.

I'm the one who believes in finding the actual CMYK shade of grey where the truth can be found. I'm the one who believes in applying the extra effort in actually finding why, how, if or for whom. And I'm the one who believes that opinions are colour-blind in this respect, and that these shades of grey are actually shades of the colour of one's being.

Let me explain. If each person sees the truth, on any subject, as a shade of grey - with black and white being the extreme shades, obviously - and places himself at that exact point where that shade of grey can be found in the palette, opinion-wise, then how come nobody ever agrees 100% with someone else on a single subject?
My answer to that: each person is a colour. One of the 64mb and more of colours in the human palette. And the shade of grey they are able to support is the one that corresponds to the lightness of their opinion.
But, as I said, opinions are colour-blind. There are more parameters that can change amongst real people, all facts considered. The hue of one's colour defines who one is, with one's background, experiences, education and personal preferences. The saturation depends on one's mood at the time of voicing the opinion. And then one can add filters based on what one thinks others want to hear, or how one decides to express the opinion, or whatever else. And the brightness... well, that's self-explanatory.
But people only band together in ideological colour swatches depending on one of these parameters. And, more often than not, their colours clash.

So, you ask, what happens when you mix these colours together? Sometimes you get a prettier colour, or a colour that's less impressive but more-or-less acceptable. And sometimes you get ugly colours, like the colour of freshly-spewed vomit after a pub crawl, or various shades of diarrhoea.

And most certainly - a fact that seems strange in colour theory but one has to accept it as a fact of life - if enough colours mix together, or if bright enough colours clash, there is a single colour that emerges from the union: the eerie off-black colour of dried human blood.

OK, so all this was a cheap metaphor for war. Still, what I wanted to get to was this: Incurably creative-minded as I am, I plan to spend the rest of my life exploring swatches of human colours, finding beauty inherent in most of them, understanding the essence of some, mixing a few together socially and trying to pinpoint a spot in the grand palette where the ultimate truth lies. And, for all I know, it's not even in my colour range.

Why I Love & Hate Joss Whedon

2005-10-28T15:53:00.000Z

Like a toddler, I have walked my first steps as a writer, within the living-room that is scriptwriting. And, as toddlers do, I found a solid piece of furniture in this living-room to focus on. It made me decide to gather the willpower required, not only to support my own weight and stand up, but to walk - to put one foot in front of the other, as I've seen so many around me do, and push myself further, hoping to reach that solid goal. However distant it may seem, it's where I want to go.

That goal, of course, is Joss Whedon. Character developer, plot twister and dialogue knitter extraordinaire, but, most of all, tamer of that scary beast called human pain. And I see the goal quite clearly; right at the other end of the living-room, up on top of the mantlepiece, along with other expensive ornaments - the kind parents show off to their guests. And I know - in fact, i knew before I pushed my hands on the floor to prop myself up - that I wouldn't be able to reach it, not this time, not for a while. And sometimes I worry if I'll ever grow tall enough to climb up there, let alone walk up to it.

It's only my first steps, after all. People will be proud of me, although I'll most definitely fall down before I even reach the dining table, and they'll laugh at me, but cheer me on regardless. And neither they, nor I, have any way to know whether I'll be an Olympic champion runner one day, or a high-jump record breaker, or if I'll be hit by a car at some point and lose my legs.

Still, maybe, if I try for long enough, if I keep my focus fixed, and if I'm lucky, one day I'll reach up to that mantlepiece, pick up an ornament and bring it down. And when I do - if I do - I'll have mastered the art of human pain myself; I'll bring it all down upon him, the bastard, and - just like in his case - it'll hurt me more than it will hurt him.

And then, I'll have found Serenity.

"Slap my arse and call me Bunny..."

2005-10-28T15:43:00.000Z

I hate blogs.
No, really.

But, just like the need to pass gas when friends are staying over for a week, it's an urge one just can't fight. Forums aplenty, mates afew, and random aquaintances, from time to time, have all borne witness to my uncontrollable urge to give my random thoughts substance, to keep records and offer them up for grabs to anyone who cares to read them. A diary, you see, is not something a friend would just randomly pick up and read, should they feel to. A blog is here, on the web of webs, and you're all invited to glimpse into my soul. Not that you want to, but hey...

And no, I won't force you to. You're not even obliged, as friends or aquaintances, to pretend you do, or even to lie that it's a good idea.

I was thinking of naming it "Snippets of Reflection upon Popular Culture, and its Vessel: Humanity". Ain't that soooo pretentious? Well, that's me. Sometimes. A me I can keep contained in here, hopefully, to avoid me bothering the people who might otherwise enjoy my company.

Here it goes...