Archive for September, 2007


Rustad Beats Truman

Yesterday, Scripps held its school elections. I happened to be in Seal Court, so I voted. While filling out my ballot, I noticed that not only were all but two of the positions uncontested, no one at all was running for GJW VP. “That’s dumb,” I thought. “Alright, I’ll put my name on the write-ins sheet. That’ll motivate everyone to run against me. They’ll be all like, ‘Oh no, we must stop Karen from tyrannically seizing the dorm in a coup and starting a WMD lab in the kitchen and provoking a US airstrike! I will run against her for the good of humanity!’”

My crafty plan seems to have backfired. I got elected.

Maybe I should’ve put myself down as a write-in for every position.

I totally don’t have time for another extracurricular activity, but whatever. Better a crappy dorm VP than no dorm VP, I suppose.

I have two goals for the year:

First, I’m gonna make it so both kitchens are fully stocked with pots, pans, and other cooking equipment. None of us individually cook enough to make buying a cookie sheet or a blender worth it; let’s provide this public good.

Second, I’m gonna hold a Scripps party in the dorm/on our patio out of principle. I’m sorry, but partying in an academic building is just a buzz kill. The Scripps dorms aren’t built with space for partying like the Mudd ones–but I think GJW has the space to have at least a Scripps-only fiesta.

Last semester, Mary Bartlett contacted me about doing an illustration for the Scripps Magazine. She’d seen one of my Nosve Release comics about Mudd Run in the Mudd alumni magazine and wondered if I could do some work for them for actual money. Actual money!

I met with her and Matt Hutaff, and one story idea that came up was a bit about World War Z by Matt Brooks. Not only is it an awesome zombie novel–Scripps gets a mention in it as a place where 300 students plant gardens, construct weapons, and survive the zombie apocalypse. Walled-garden women’s colleges for the win!

I’ve been holding onto this drawing for a long time, waiting for the article on the book to drop. And now it has! Check out page 7 of the fall issue of Scripps Magazine

So yeah… I’m in print! Fwee!

For the heck of it, I’m posting the two flash animations I’ve made for class so far.

Random first attempt at using flash

Braaaaiinnzz!

Also, here’s my first Intro to Creative Writing poem!

The black leather got scuffed
Before they ever walked into church.
Odd, that.
Tossed under the sofa, after a long day
Beached by the door with
The footprinted flip-flops
That she hadn’t worn since Saturday before last…

Comfortable heels are so hard to find.
Perhaps that was once for the best
The vamps and soles were spotless
Back when she settled for less.

(The assignment was to take a piece of clothing and write about it in a metaphorical manner that expresses something about yourself. I’m of the opinion that you can’t burp without expressing something about yourself… but whatever.)

Karen: How do I fix my graphic novel?

Nelson: well, just imagine what it would be like if things *did* change
what would the beginnings of that look like?

Karen: Hm…
Walker Wall [at Pomona] is an aspect of it… anyone can paint it, you don’t need permission, though if you’re painting hate speech and people know it’s you there might be issues… Or the burning parties at Mudd [sophomore year]–there was a fireplace, and we had homework, so we set it on fire. No permission needed.
I remember being so impressed by the graffiti in the bathrooms of the Grinnell library when I visited there–it’s extensive, sometimes vulgar, but largely intelligent and conversive.

Nelson: I mean, that’s part of it isn’t it? permission culture vs. free culture again, to some extent

Karen: Yeah…

Nelson: I mean, sometimes having to get permission is reasonable, e.g. you can’t have impromptu PGI conventions
but it shouldn’t be hard to get, there shouldn’t be mountains of red tape, and above all it should be *possible* to get permission if you take reasonable precautions for safety or noise pollution or whatever
I wouldn’t be horribly upset if I couldn’t shoot fireworks in my backyard but there were Crackerjack-like shoot sites all over the place
I mean, we’ve lost something, there once was a time when you could shoot cans with a rifle in your backyard and nobody thought anything of it
but there are shooting ranges etc. in every metropolitan area
why are guns special? why can’t you get permission to do far less dangerous things? part of it is the gun lobby is organized, the NRA is scary, and there are a lot of people willing to put up a fight… too many people let things like fireworks or arcades fall to the anti-fun contingent because it doesn’t seem important in the grand scheme of things
like, terrorists want to kill us, the environment is tanking, we have no medical or financial safety net, etc. who has time to fight for just good clean fun?
more freedom to just do stuff without permission is the ideal
but even setting the bar for permission at a reasonable height when permission is necessary would make our country a much better place
and killing some bureaucracy would be nice too

Karen: Part of the problem (at least, the part that the article we read focuses on) is that we make these decisions in the name of the “public interest”, but some people are more of a part of the “public” than others. “Those damn kids” who play pinball don’t count.
Pyros might fit into normal life in other respects, but not enough people know them to make them “count.”
I think this is true at Scripps, too…
Stereotype-wise, you have the daddy’s little (smart) girls and the activist feminist lesbians. I think the former’s interests are more a part of the conception of the Scripps “public” than are the latter.
In both cases, we are strong confident women, to be sure… but in our self-image we are also beautiful, well-groomed, polite, cooperative… and we make sure to photograph as many of our scant minority population as possible so they are represented on the website. :p

Nelson: another part of the problem is that even when the rules are relatively reasonable, enforcement can be plainly unreasonable… e.g. it makes sense for filesharing to be illegal under our current system, but how do you justify the statutory damages? E.g. Danny Clark being prosecuted to the full extent of the law for an innocent mistake with the construction of his fireworks magazine instead of getting a warning to fix it or something more reasonable

Karen: But why do you think the authorities choose to be unreasonable?

Nelson: because they’re part of the anti-fun contingent? because they believe in the letter of the law rather than the spirit?
I dunno, it just seems to be part of their psychology to use their power to the hilt rather than exercising restraint
I think a lot of people who end up in power feel like they have to use it or it might go away

Karen: But they don’t always believe in the letter of the law… not everyone is dogged in this way. Pyros, black people, activists… power is preferentially used against them. Paris didn’t face the letter of the law.

Nelson: that’s true

Any thoughts on how to fight “think of the children”ism and the anti-fun contingent? How can we take back public space and just plain basic autonomy? Anyone interested in taking on the escort policy, or the no-more-than-eight-people policy, or the you-must-drink-in-your-room-with-the-door-closed-like-an-alcoholic-and-if-there’s-other-people-you-can’t-have-any-because-that’s-totally-realistic policy (among so many others)?

Class president Ashley Peters had an amazing convocation speech last week (that no one but frosh and choir Scrippsies attended, sigh) that was a call for greater activism on campus, to actually speak up when the administration calls for input–and demand more input opportunities–during the presidential transition. Can we do that?

Or are you all just as swamped with work as I am…?

Pitzer got on Fark!

Tagged “SCARY”, headline “Just another sign that college kids are getting dummer”…

SoCal College Offers YouTube Class

My intro to video production prof teaches that course. I could’ve taken it, if I’d needed another elective major credit. And now it is being mocked by Farkers everywhere…

Oh, Pitzer…

Calling all gardeners

I was at the SCC getting Free Culture 5C a table for the activities fair next week when I saw a sign for a ‘Plant Sale’ going on then as a fundraiser for ASPC. I checked it out and ended up buying a three-dollar plant for my room. Yay! I named it Jayne.

The problem is, I don’t know at all what kind of plant it is. It wasn’t labeled. Yet I think I’ve seen this kind of plant around before, probably on campus somewhere, so I’m hoping it’s common and easily identified.

Any takers?

Google is hilarious.

As some of you may have noticed, if you google my site a warning pops up that there’s scary badware here and you shouldn’t proceed. This is from a while back when my host’s server got hacked and a bunch of nasty stuff was put on all of his customers’ sites. My site has been cleaned off for some time, but only now did I finally get around to signing up for Google’s webmaster tools doohickey and requesting a review of my site, so hopefully that warning will go away soon.

While I was signed in, though, I decided to play with the other webmastery tools Google offers–what google searches lead to my site (nothing too deviant, but, surprisingly, I’m on the front page for ‘”i 35w” collapse’, and ‘janteloven’!), etc. One of the tools is sites that link to me. Most of them were Margie’s blog (all of her archive pages count separately, for some reason!)… but there was one link to my old Zephyrus April Fool’s article that caught my eye.

This.

I could not stop laughing.

Sorry to disappoint you, Superintendent Dragseth’s future employers. He wasn’t really responsible for apprehending Osama bin Laden. That credit must go to the ever-astounding Ms. Erck and Mr. Brueckner. :p

Police brutality, #65377914721

An Arizona SWAT team descends upon a house in a quiet upscale neighborhood, crashing their armored personnel carrier into a neighbor’s parked car, fires tear gas canisters that may or may not have been the cause of a fire that minutes later completely destroyed the $250,000 house, and chases the owner’s crying puppy back into the house when it tried to escape, causing it to burn to death, laughing all the while.

Why?

Someone told the cops that the owner had a stockpile of illegal arms. (If they were expecting a huge gunfight, why didn’t they warn the neighbors and have them evacuate?) In reality, the guy had an antique shotgun and a 9mm pistol, both legally owned. They ended up arresting him for failing to show up in court for two traffic citations–the only thing on his record.

I don’t follow Phoenix politics, but this isn’t apparently the only dick move on the part of the testosterone-poisoned local sheriff. I guess when he says he’s tough on crime, he means it. But, well, this is what “tough on crime” means! It’s not something to brag about.

Cops with egos can just go to hell.

Full article here.

Also in the news today:
Cop arrests McDonald’s employee for serving him an oversalted burger.

Five-inch action figures hold public protest; Singapore authorities respond with four riot vans. (Only four people can congregate at a time in Singapore without a permit? Wow! We get a maximum of eight friends at Scripps College! I feel so…free!)

Not about cops, but… Apparently, there are only four countries in the world that don’t have mandatory paid maternity leave: Swaziland, Liberia, Papua New Guinea… and the US. Of course. We really shouldn’t qualify as a first world country…

The More Loving One

Time for a poetry break.

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

– W. H. Auden

Wow.

In an effort to survive all my commitments and not have the five-final-papers-due-tomorrow problem of the last couple semesters, I’ve been reading “Getting Things Done” by David Allen. His focus is pretty corporate (I should re-write it as “Getting Shit Done,” the college student-directed edition :p), and his recommended model is pretty paper-based (e.g. I have .txt files instead of meatspace folders), but overall I think the book’s organization method is helpful. At least, right now I have a ton of stuff on my plate–getting the Store website up to speed, loan crap, free culture work (both local and national) to start with, to say nothing of schoolwork–but I still feel like I am “getting shit done” in spite of it all.

I have made a lot of progress in keeping on top of my life. Really, I have. And yet… things happen that make me wonder if I will ever stop being a dumb.

For instance, this: My bike wasn’t stolen.

At the end of the semester last year, I was in a rush to get everything in order before I left. I remembered that I asked Colleen to do something for me, since I had to catch my shuttle to the airport. I thought I asked her to finish cleaning up the common room, as certain ex-suitemates had left a massive mess in there and already moved out.

I could have sworn that I stored my bike myself, along with Nelson’s, in the Fowler shed. (Power of false memories…) But this was not the case. I gave Colleen my bike key and asked her to store my bike for me, since I had to run. She did so faithfully, in the Frankel shed. And I promptly forgot entirely about it…

…until today, when I met Colleen for lunch and she returned the bike key.

Bike was still there, tires a little flat but otherwise unharmed. I took it to Senior Seminar down at Pomona today, careening down that relentless Claremont slope, same way I rode so frequently last semester. I am SO GLAD I found the bike, not just because it makes getting around much easier, not just because I need the exercise–because I missed biking in itself, to a surprising degree.

But now I also feel really incompetent. Sigh.

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