Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Art Nerds and Cocoa Puffs
Monday, July 5, 2010
Space Trashers
I found this article in National Geographic talking about space trash. No kidding. As if things weren't bad enough on Earth in terms of trash, it turns out we've now created the same problem in space. Good job guys.
And if you're thinking "Well, really, how big of deal can it possibly be?" than let me tell you this: last year, two satellites crashed into one another over Siberia, scattering about two thousand large pieces of debris over the atmosphere. So, um, yeah, bad stuff happens when you treat Earth's orbit like a hoarder's living room.
Here's the good news:
NASA and the Department of Defense held a conference to figure out what to do. The UN has passed some ideas, including draining fuel out of satellites to prevent explosions. There's been some ideas knocked around to fix the problem. Most of them sound like they came from sci-fi novels, including one where they want to put a massive foam ball in orbit that would sweep up debris. Honestly, the idea wasn't well explained in the article. I'm still confused about what the heck they meant by it.
The bad news:
Earlier this year, China used their old satellites for target practice, sending lots more little bits about. Scientists estimate that for the next fifty years, we'll see a collision every five years. For those of you not into math, that's ten collisions.
And if you're thinking "Well, really, how big of deal can it possibly be?" than let me tell you this: last year, two satellites crashed into one another over Siberia, scattering about two thousand large pieces of debris over the atmosphere. So, um, yeah, bad stuff happens when you treat Earth's orbit like a hoarder's living room.
Here's the good news:
NASA and the Department of Defense held a conference to figure out what to do. The UN has passed some ideas, including draining fuel out of satellites to prevent explosions. There's been some ideas knocked around to fix the problem. Most of them sound like they came from sci-fi novels, including one where they want to put a massive foam ball in orbit that would sweep up debris. Honestly, the idea wasn't well explained in the article. I'm still confused about what the heck they meant by it.
The bad news:
Earlier this year, China used their old satellites for target practice, sending lots more little bits about. Scientists estimate that for the next fifty years, we'll see a collision every five years. For those of you not into math, that's ten collisions.
Patriotic Poets
Today I'm reading up on some poet biographies. Given that it is the 4th of July holiday still, I thought I would concentrate on a couple of American poets. Things I've learned so far:
-Phillis Wheatley was from what is approximately modern Senegal in West Africa.
-Even though Wheatley was "discovered" as smart early on in her life, they still made her work. She wrote poems about how she wished she could stop being a servant and live the life of an academic.
-Wheatley published broadsides, which, for those of you not totally obsessed with the literary world, is a poster version of a poem, usually printed so that the words are indented into the page, so you can "feel" the word. Broadsides are sort of a lost art in our culture, but I can assure you they're really cool.
-Wheatley had asthma. I honestly wasn't even sure people back then knew what it was.
-When most Americans wouldn't publish Wheatley's work, she turned to a publisher in London.
-Wheatley got to meet other famous people, including Benjamin Franklin and George Washington.
-A lot of Wheatley's poems were written in couplets, including iambic pentameter (that's what much of Shakespeare is in) and heroic (which is the form favored by epics.) This indicates to me that she must have been educated in the classics. She also wrote about death, which everyone knows is a favored topic of poets.
-Many British readers were uncomfortable with Wheatley's slave status. They often criticized her "family" and owners for keeping her in slavery. However, as a house slave, she got to avoid many of the worst aspects of slavery or the tough life of being a free slave in an overtly racist country.
-Her husband was John Peters, who was a free black. He may have been a lawyer. Since he was ambitious, a lot of white Americans hated him.
-"Refugee" slaves were slaves that were considered too sickly to work on things like sugar plantations in the Caribbean, so they were sold off as house servants in other parts of the world, including New England.
-Walt Whitman's father was a admirer and friend of Thomas Paine.
-Whitman was part of the first generation of American children.
-Whitman's brothers and sisters were given patriotic names, including Andrew Jackson, George Washington and Thomas Jefferson.
-As a child, Whitman was apparently picked out of a crowd by the Marquis de Lafayette (who was instrumental in providing French support during the Revolution.) and carried young Whitman on his back.
-Whitman's relationship with his father was imperfect; he respected him but they were never close. There is some indication that his father may have been an alcoholic. Whitman had a close relationship with his mother.
-Like Shakespeare, Whitman didn't have a lot of formal schooling. He spent six years in a public school in Brooklyn, and at around twelve began working. Whitman continued his education by spending time renting books from a library.
-Whitman liked Sir Walter Scott and James Fenimore Cooper. He liked Shakespeare's Richard III, which I also love.
-Whitman was not just a writer but a publisher, beginning with become an apprentice printer as a young man, at around twelve or thirteen.
-Even though Wheatley was "discovered" as smart early on in her life, they still made her work. She wrote poems about how she wished she could stop being a servant and live the life of an academic.
-When most Americans wouldn't publish Wheatley's work, she turned to a publisher in London.
-Wheatley got to meet other famous people, including Benjamin Franklin and George Washington.
-Many British readers were uncomfortable with Wheatley's slave status. They often criticized her "family" and owners for keeping her in slavery. However, as a house slave, she got to avoid many of the worst aspects of slavery or the tough life of being a free slave in an overtly racist country.
-Her husband was John Peters, who was a free black. He may have been a lawyer. Since he was ambitious, a lot of white Americans hated him.
-"Refugee" slaves were slaves that were considered too sickly to work on things like sugar plantations in the Caribbean, so they were sold off as house servants in other parts of the world, including New England.
-Whitman was part of the first generation of American children.
-Whitman's brothers and sisters were given patriotic names, including Andrew Jackson, George Washington and Thomas Jefferson.
-Whitman's relationship with his father was imperfect; he respected him but they were never close. There is some indication that his father may have been an alcoholic. Whitman had a close relationship with his mother.
-Whitman was not just a writer but a publisher, beginning with become an apprentice printer as a young man, at around twelve or thirteen.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
An Indulgence
I've been indulging in a little creative writing today. It's always indulging to me, because most people would probably argue that I should be doing more constructive things. What kinds of constructive things? I always wonder. So few things have grabbed me so fiercely and have refused to let go since.
I'm actually editing, which is not as fun for me as writing a first draft. When I first write something, I'm exhilarated, I want to get the words out now, now, now. There's something close to relief once I finish a rough draft. Honestly, it often feels like I'll never have to revisit those thoughts or ideas again, because, thank God, they're out. They're over. They're in the near past, and I'm continuing on with life, sans a toxic lover that I care for but know I'm better without.
I'm editing a set of poems right now.
One of the poems I'm editing right now is a strange set of surreal prose poems. I sat in on a rehearsal for plays which escape my memory over a year ago, and I just started writing down all the nouns people were using. It was an impressive cornucopia. I decided I'd write some poems with it. And I did. Now I'm editing them, and it's tough because so much of the poem isn't about the words themselves but what they do together. It's like a machine. If you throw one cog off, the machine can't run; it'll just make puffy sounds.
Another poem is a rewriting of the myth of Arachne. When I was fifteen, I was so sick of Greek mythology, because that was the sixth year in a row we had studied it in school, and I desperately wanted something different. But it's stayed with me, all these years later, because I find that I write poems based on it and find references in pop culture to it.
One of the things that's really annoying is that my word processor started doing that thing where every time you add something it erases the space right after it. I can work around it, but I wish I could figure out why that happened first. Might be helpful.
I'm actually editing, which is not as fun for me as writing a first draft. When I first write something, I'm exhilarated, I want to get the words out now, now, now. There's something close to relief once I finish a rough draft. Honestly, it often feels like I'll never have to revisit those thoughts or ideas again, because, thank God, they're out. They're over. They're in the near past, and I'm continuing on with life, sans a toxic lover that I care for but know I'm better without.
I'm editing a set of poems right now.
One of the poems I'm editing right now is a strange set of surreal prose poems. I sat in on a rehearsal for plays which escape my memory over a year ago, and I just started writing down all the nouns people were using. It was an impressive cornucopia. I decided I'd write some poems with it. And I did. Now I'm editing them, and it's tough because so much of the poem isn't about the words themselves but what they do together. It's like a machine. If you throw one cog off, the machine can't run; it'll just make puffy sounds.
Another poem is a rewriting of the myth of Arachne. When I was fifteen, I was so sick of Greek mythology, because that was the sixth year in a row we had studied it in school, and I desperately wanted something different. But it's stayed with me, all these years later, because I find that I write poems based on it and find references in pop culture to it.
One of the things that's really annoying is that my word processor started doing that thing where every time you add something it erases the space right after it. I can work around it, but I wish I could figure out why that happened first. Might be helpful.
Another Way of Looking at Wallace Stevens
"Continual Conversation with A Silent Man" is a strange but interesting poem. I like that the blue sky is "old" instead of whatever we usually think it is (beautiful, usually.) This poem also makes me think of "The Red Wheelbarrow," which is one of those poems I detest. There's also something mysterious here, like the poetry of Margaret Atwood.
"Farewell to Florida" is also kind of strange. I love the lines "the past is dead./Her mind will never speak to me again./I am free."
Going Postal
I'm really into some vintage-inspired ones that I found online, like this one which I think it suppose to be for Switzerland. I like the bright colors and the simple shapes. I usually don't like writing on my postcard's front image, but I really like the writing on postcards that are clearly inspired by old school advertisements. They remind me of those stickers people used to put on their luggage to indicate where they had been before.
Also in vintage postcard world is this French postcard. Again, it reminds me of those old advertisements, but this one also reminds me Alphonse Mucha's style of art.
And this great one of Michigan reminds me a little of the cover art for Greeting from Michigan by Sufjan Stevens. I suspected that the cover of that album was not just meant to look like a vintage advertisement but was probably inspired by a specific one, and this looks kind of close.
Other vintage postcards that I like include ones of Milan, Australia, Cuba, this one castle I can't place, Mexico, a fleur de lis, St. Tropaz, Bulgaria, Flanders and Brazil. Possibly this one from Egypt is vintage too, though maybe it's just me.
I guess I am a geography nerd, because I even liked some of the flag ones out there, like this one from Senegal. I'm always trying to quiz myself when I see flags, trying to get good at remembering every country's flag. I'm embarrassed to say I didn't remember Senegal when I saw this one. I really should, considering how much I love African history and really want to go to Senegal someday. It's not quite as bad as not knowing the flag to Cambodia, but I'm still not pleased with myself.
The only one I found that I really don't like is this one for New Zealand. I suspect that woman is suppose to be a "Native." I get the feeling they were like "Hey, we need something exotic and sexy, let's put a woman in a bear blanket and nothing else." Er. Racism is never hot, sorry.
Of course, there's nothing quite like an intriguing picture to make a good postcard, like this one, which is from some place I've never heard of. When it's a good picture, I kind of hate it when someone sticks words over it. I feel like that's part of the point of the back; you can just turn it around if you want to know where the picture is taken from.
Most of the humorous postcards out there strike me as tacky and/or lame, but some of them genuinely make me smile. See this postcard from Earth. It's times like these I wish I had a friend who actually thought he was the Doctor, because then I could send him this, writing a message that sounded like I was a companion. I suspect that would be the sort of thing a lot of my friends would think was funny. (Maybe I could do that to Matt? He made himself one of those gigantic scarves like the fourth Doctor has.) The biggest problem with looking at these is that they make me wish I was out traveling and actually seeing some of these things. Then I would have the excuse to buy some postcards and send them home to my friends.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
I Hate Being a Cliche
I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping these last few months, more so than the previous months when I was still at school.
Part of it is stress. Just thinking about all the things going on in my family makes me so upset. I often get really angry while I'm lying in bed, when I have the moment to consider just how awful some particular thing was.
And then I think about friends I'm having issues with, and it's all I can do not to pick a fight, even if I have to call that person to have that fight.
The last week or so, I've been playing this "music" of it raining and thundering. As I've mentioned before, I really like this sound, and now that we're in a dry season, it doesn't rain much. Sometimes this sound stuff helps me fall asleep, sometimes not so much.
I got up around two yesterday, and played Solitaire on my computer. I was hoping that would tire me out. After losing four out of my six games, I realized no, that it wasn't helping. I was sleeping and my game wasn't getting better.
And then I laid in bed, doing the tossing and turning thing. God. I hate being a cliche.
If you've ever had trouble sleeping, you know that it's awful, because you know what you want to happen, you usually fix things in your favor so that will happen, but still you're just waiting. In my case, my brain accelerates at two hundred miles per hour and I can't slow things down. Usually, my brain going this fast is a good thing, because it's part of what makes me a good student. But it works against me too, since when I haven't had much sleep my brain gets sluggish and I say stupid stuff.
Then, last night, my jaw started hurting. Why is beyond me, as I was laying on my side (like I usually do) and, except for the sleeping thing, was fine.
After a while, I must have fallen asleep. Probably some time after three.
Part of it is stress. Just thinking about all the things going on in my family makes me so upset. I often get really angry while I'm lying in bed, when I have the moment to consider just how awful some particular thing was.
And then I think about friends I'm having issues with, and it's all I can do not to pick a fight, even if I have to call that person to have that fight.
The last week or so, I've been playing this "music" of it raining and thundering. As I've mentioned before, I really like this sound, and now that we're in a dry season, it doesn't rain much. Sometimes this sound stuff helps me fall asleep, sometimes not so much.
I got up around two yesterday, and played Solitaire on my computer. I was hoping that would tire me out. After losing four out of my six games, I realized no, that it wasn't helping. I was sleeping and my game wasn't getting better.
And then I laid in bed, doing the tossing and turning thing. God. I hate being a cliche.
If you've ever had trouble sleeping, you know that it's awful, because you know what you want to happen, you usually fix things in your favor so that will happen, but still you're just waiting. In my case, my brain accelerates at two hundred miles per hour and I can't slow things down. Usually, my brain going this fast is a good thing, because it's part of what makes me a good student. But it works against me too, since when I haven't had much sleep my brain gets sluggish and I say stupid stuff.
Then, last night, my jaw started hurting. Why is beyond me, as I was laying on my side (like I usually do) and, except for the sleeping thing, was fine.
After a while, I must have fallen asleep. Probably some time after three.
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