wombat1138: (Simpsonized)
Beaause goats are the traditional protagonists fending off evil ambush by trolls hiding under bridges.

In modern usage, I tend to define a "troll" as someone who sabotages productive dialogue with deliberate malice, under the pretense that they're honestly just trying to pursue this particular angle on the topic and don't understand why this would make any reasonable person upset. However, what they're really after is the reaction and ensuing chaos. Whether they really believe their own topical angle is largely irrelevant.

There's the alternate maritime analogy, which I still insist ought to be spelled as "trawling" or "trawlers": deliberate malicious disruptors who don't even bother with a pretense, and just apply brute-force methods like goatse image posts or airhorns to trap their targets into reactive thrashing.

I don't know what to call quasi-trolls who really are clueless about social cues, and may be aware that they're annoying people with their topical approach but at least genuinely believe in its importance. or maybe they're not even aware that people are being annoyed, or don't understand why anyone would be annoyed by this argument because annoyance just seems unreasonable.Read more... )

Oh dear.

Sep. 7th, 2011 08:06 pm
wombat1138: (Default)
I've been watching the Capcom Unity discussion about the (non)localization of the second Miles Edgeworth game. One particular troll-- if he can really be called that, since imho "troll" implies a certain degree of intentional beehive-kicking, and I think he's genuinely too oblivious for that type of intentionality-- just keeps repetitively insulting Capcom to its face on its own forum, and seems to think this will actually *work* to persuade them into tackling the localization. Meanwhile, everyone else is mostly getting annoyed and plonking him.

I started wondering, "Why on earth would he think his posts can accomplish his stated goal?"

And then it occurred to me.

His reasoning would make sense to someone whose most significant personal life experience of "motivational" tactics has been an unwavering barrage of threats and insults.

Which is sad, but does not change the fact that he is being an asshat.
wombat1138: (narbat)
I've now lost count of how many lampwork classes I've gone to, though I could probably recover the tally from my checkbook register. I'm enjoying them, but I'm not quite sure what long-term goals I have, if any.Read more... )
wombat1138: (spot)
(Partially reposted from FW comments.)

The Diana Gabaldon fanfic flap has generally failed to interest me, mostly because I already knew that her thought processes on such matters were completely alien to me, thanks to her comments about Cassie Edwards' plagiarism. headdesk )

I've been following her series over the years, even though it's been getting increasingly overgrown and underedited. Her bizarre logic about plagiarism and fanfic hasn't bothered me enough to consider giving up on her books.

However, this does: after deleting all of the fanfic-related entries from her blog, she's updated it with a gushing book recommendation without mentioning that the author, Samuel Sykes, is her own son. He hasn't been sharing that information on his own, either. wtf )
wombat1138: (narbat)
...I've been unsuccessfully trying to work out another color-coded "elements" set of magatama necklaces: the five (or six) Eastern ones (earth, metal, wood, water, and fire; air/sky was occasionally added to the set in China) or the four Western ones (earth, water, fire, and air; let's ignore "spirit/aether" for now).elemental color stuff )

So instead, I've ended up working out two pieces (for "piece" = necklace and matching earrings) of color-coded emotional dyadic symbolism; I've mostly tried to base the color linkages on English-language idioms, but they're bound to be somewhat idiosyncratic (frex blue <- healing <- the Virgin Mary's robes? is the only way I've managed to rationalize that one).

The blue one is sorrow/healing, with teardrop shapes and freshwater pearls; pearls are formed around a core of pain, but the mollusc uses that to form something precious and beautiful.

The yellow one is fear/hope, with long rounded tubes to resemble a draped yellow ribbon and some transformational play with little lemon-shaped beads-- they first appear as single drops, in obviously lemony format; they then combine with other beads to form a sort of stylized bee; and finally in the centerpiece, the lemons form the petals of a flower. I've probably overthought the symbolism, but there's sort of a double idea of lemons/lemonade and bees/honey. It might be one of those things that requires too much explanation, though.

So now I'm pushing around various red beads, with a general idea of double-edged passion: love and/or violence. There are some odd little drops I'd like to use that resemble a closed fist-- I have no idea what their original cultural context was, but they seem like a possible good match (and the only thing I've ever been able to work them into was a notional nod to the goddess Kali's hula skirt of severed hands). Or if I can find more conventional teardrop-shaped drops in red (they're probably around here somewhere), they could probably undergo transformations in a similar way to the lemon, from individual blood drops to clustered flower buds or pomegranate seeds etc.).

So that would complete a red/yellow/blue triad of primary colors, but I'm still curious about finding a similar emotional dyad for green; "jealousy" would be one obvious starting point, or perhaps a more general sense of "possession/acquisitiveness" if material greed is also folded in-- but what would be a good oppositional emotion that's also associated with green? If the "green" holistic/global movement is taken into account, perhaps a dichotomy between selfishness and... um... I'm not sure how to articulate its opposite in this context; taking account of the effects of one's own actions on other people? "Generosity/harvest" would be easier to describe, but doesn't quite feel right to me :|
wombat1138: (spot)
Spotted at Borders recently:

1.) An ongoing comic-book adaptation in standard format, in the same rack as the usual superhero fare; played straight, but imho completely undistinguished and uninteresting, other than by its mere existence. I can't see this enticing readers who would've never otherwise attempted the book, unless perhaps their target audience is the other way around: getting people to buy comics who otherwise wouldn't.

2.) Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Also with ninjas and occasional line-art illustrations. Reasonably wittily written (and spliced into Austen's original text), but just not quite my thing. I continue to goggle in various ways about a line that describes a dojo at Rosings Park which had been carried there brick by brick[sic] from Kyoto by peasants on Lady Catherine's order. She eventually has a climactic duel with Elizabeth when discussing Mr. Darcy's proposal.

Just spotted online:

3.) A marvellous set of ongoing blog posts reframing P&P from Darcy's point of view-- not as an overwrought emo studmuffin, but as a completely believable and (over)rational character; they're written by the sister of Eugene Woodbury, who has been posting his own translations of many of the Twelve Kingdoms novels for some years now.

[12K sidenote: the main local library has a lovely set of Japanese-language animanga that covers most of the anime series, though I'm not sure whether the final mini-arc was omitted or just hasn't been acquired yet. Oddly, the one pair of 12K light novels in the Japanese-language section didn't have any of the sporadic illos that've been reproduced in the TokyoPop translations, nor even any particular cover art-- analogues of the Brit "adult editions" of the HP books with more sophisticated-looking exteriors?]


Nov. 29th, 2007 11:48 pm
wombat1138: (Default)
(Not really a little jig of despair; more like a slow waltz of apathy. How do you set goals when your only goals are to *have* goals?)

They have so many things I do not want,
And yet it's not as if I have my own
Things that would take their place. The telephone
Rings to itself; the unsaid elephant
Fills up the room as unread papers count
The days to weeks, the trees to empty bone.

I have nothing to say to them, nor words
That I could say it with: pluperfect hope
Without a present tense, an isotope
On Xeno's path of lives half-lived. Absurd
To linger there, better to move forward--
But I've no address on my envelope.
wombat1138: (Default)
Some years ago, I ran into a Geocities-based page that attempted to intercorrelate several different sorts of personality typology; when I went looking for it again just now, I found that the latest version now has its own domain with even more material tucked around the edges.

While I have no particular Definite Faith in any of those systems, I do find this sort of thing endlessly fascinating, rather like this magnificent example that tries to do something similar with different sets of metaphysical elements and culminates toward the bottom of the page by charting all of them onto a seven-part cube (six faces plus the contained space within it).

In any case, the former page has enough bibliographic pointers that I promptly nipped elseweb to find a used copy of an interesting-sounding book on tailoring cognitive therapy to various personality disorders. The second edition came out a few years ago, suggesting that the first edition was useful/influential enough to make an update worthwhile. Amazon had much better pricing than eBay, semi-surprisingly; the best price on eBay was considerably offset by the seller padding the shipping/handling fee to over $20. For one book. Sheesh.
wombat1138: (Default)
No, not sleep-drinking per se. Found this article while poking around the web for material on apnea and circadian disturbances. As evidence that I am a big geek, the first thing that came to mind was Sohma Yuki, the very much not-a-morning-person ratboy from Fruits Basket.
wombat1138: (Default)
Just jotting down another link for me to come back and read later. Either this is not my day for parsing complex sentences, or I'm not picking particularly good sentences to attempt to parse.
wombat1138: (Default)
This paper seems very similar to one of the wheels I was trying to simultaneously spin around and re-invent in my previous entry, though centered more around the Indian diaspora than what I'd been poking at. I'll have to read it more carefully when my brain cell is working again.

And yes, of course there's a gulf of homelessnesses(es) between the metaphorical state of rootless cosmopolitans and the literal state of unemployed mental illness in a cardboard box; existential angst sometimes seems a decadent luxury reserved for those with the leisure to contemplate their existence rather than exhausting themselves for the mere sustenance thereof. Still, there but for the grace of the wombat-consort go I.
wombat1138: (Default)
Courtesy of Wikipedia, with some abridgement:

The first wave of immigration of the gentile class arrived in the province in the early 4th century AD when the Western Jin Dynasty collapsed and the north was torn apart by invasions by nomadic peoples from the north, as well as civil war. These immigrants were primarily from eight families in central China: Lin (林), Huang (黄), Chen (陈), Zheng (郑), Zhan (詹), Qiu (邱), He (何), and Hu (胡). The first four remain as the major surnames of modern Fujian.
I'm pretty sure those transliterations are from the Mandarin pronunciations rather than the local dialect. Which is just as well for security purposes, though even within the specialized context of Lan-nang, my mother's family isn't quite sure how they ended up with most of the current aspects of their surname. (Some of them theorize an earlier transliteration accident based on bad handwriting.) I feel oddly balanced between "Hey! I really do belong somewhere on both sides!" and "Bah, in context, my specific family names seem so boring if everyone has them back home."Read more... )
wombat1138: (Default)
It's a surprisingly bright, sunny morning, and therefore too cold to slide open the glass patio door. The wombatcave is nestled within a fractal set of gaps among the hills-- there's the big gap all the way from the coast where the tidal fog comes through every night, plus we're down near a streambed where mist tends to collect/persist even when the hills are dry and clear. The misty foggy stuff buffers our local picoclimate to a fairly consistent year-round average, so that clear days in winter are Too Cold and clear days in summer are Too Hot.

Without access to the hinged flap in the screen door, the cats have resorted to sullen punk lurkage (and occasional failed pounces) at the birdfeeder on the other side, or rather the confetti scattered below it. When I first hung the feeder from the eaves, all we got at first were some bluejay-type things-- not the crested bluejays I grew up with on the East Coast, though they're roughly the same size; these are black-headed Stellar's Jays and crestless scrub jays.

Which brings me to a conversationish thing between me and the wombat-consort this past weekend, both sides having been delivered entirely in the same Marvin-the-Paranoid-Android deadpan monotone--

Him: That's a lot of little brown birds out there.
Me: We finally widened the clientele. The bluejays were too big to balance on the feeder, so they just kept dive-bombing it to piñata millet all over the deck. I guess the key was finding birdseed that wouldn't roll out and had to be et in situ.
Him: Is that brown basmati rice out there? The organic brown basmati I bought from Trader Joe's?
Me: It smelled stale when I found it in the back of the pantry. Must be at least two years old by now.
Him: Don't birds explode if they eat rice?
Me: Yes. They do. This is why all birds have gone extinct in Asia. Sometime new species attempt to migrate in, but come rice-harvest season, it's back to the exploding feathery carnage as far as the eye can see.

--at which point I suddenly remembered Miles Vorkosigan's question to Ekaterin in the attic during A Civil Campaign: "How can you stand me? I can't even stand me!" Not that the wombat-consort himself seemed to mind, but still. Sigh.


Jan. 11th, 2006 10:20 am
wombat1138: (Default)
Via [livejournal.com profile] sff_corgi (who also has insanely cute Katamari Corgicy), a great essay on basic conversational skills for hopeless geeks. I've had the first half of the equation for years, but always been (and will probably continue to be) surly about the second half. Thing is, though, I tend to be rather poor at generating conversation that's interesting to other people; combined with low interest in *their* probable topics, I really don't have much incentive in the whole game :b
wombat1138: (Default)
In the midst of trying to tessellate together small scraps of poetry, I think I've finally figured out why I've never liked "The Waste Land" On the other hand, I may be any combination of misguided, trite, or incoherent :b Read more... )
wombat1138: (Default)
(Is that a real word? Probably not, but it's a dandy portmanteau.)

Well, that previous topic certainly went over like a Humvee attempting donuts. Alas. Still, it's tangentially connected to another meander I've been nursing for a while, or at least enough to provide an excuse for gratuitous segue.

Due to generous infusions of Miss Manners since childhood, I subscribe somewhat to the etiquette-based approach to ethics, or perhaps the ethics-based approach to etiquette. (Neither of these explains the four different types of place-setting spoons in my flatware set, but hush.) Either way, the sustained energetic contempt for Other Fans that's traditional in some quarters just gives me a crawly phobic sensation for which I can't find a good parallel, other than most people's reactions when I reminisce about my occasional childhood raids on gypsy-moth nests, in which I'd poke a hole through the tough silk roof of their tent and down through several layers, and then reach in and wiggle my fingers around the warm, squirming mass of damp fuzzy caterpillars. It's not that I don't delight in brief spluttering fits of snarkage, but marathons of snark just feel WRONG to me. As per usual practice, I've managed to sort out several rationalizations which may or may not be accurate, as opposed to handy cover stories for whatever visceral trigger is tucked away like a child's hand in caterpillars. Read more... )


Mar. 31st, 2005 09:08 am
wombat1138: (Default)
Dangit. I was asleep for most of the past 36 hours, and am already starting to get drowsy again despite my antinarcoleptic meds. I really don't want to increase my dosage again, esp. since the FDA is reputedly planning to clamp down on off-label prescriptions and I don't have a formal diagnosis of narcolepsy per se.

On a possibly related note, I think that last week, I completely tanked the first job interview I've had for the past year-- it was for a "library assistant" position, but almost all of the questions were about generic customer-service issues rather than anything that seemed really specific to, well, libraries. By the time they asked me for a closing statement about why I wanted to work in a library, I was very tempted to say, "So I wouldn't have to deal with people", but managed to suppress that. However, I have no memory of what I actually did come up with-- certainly not the reasonably truthful answer that came to me on the way home, which was that after assessing my non-labwork skills, I figured that I wasn't sure that I had that much useful knowledge of any one particular field, but I was pretty good at knowing how to look stuff up. Unfortunately, it seems that to be a Real Reference Librarian, I'd have to get an actual degree in Library Science-- which might not take much longer than a two years' program for a master's degree, but I still don't know whether I really want to work in a library to start with.

However, I've finally achieved a vague resemblance to professional authorship, at least in the sense of actually getting paid in something besides contributors' copies or an entry in my yearly employee evaluation. Didn't pay all that much, but then the market value of sharp sticks in the eye continues to decline by comparison.
wombat1138: (Default)
Not in any particular order, and certainly not a self-consistent set:
listage )
wombat1138: (Default)
I've been pondering the following for a few days, and still can't decide whether the proper reaction is, assuming there is such a thing. Still, there's practically no chance that anyone directly involved is likely to find my blog, esp. without any incriminating keywords/names.

Sometime last week on one of the sites I usually follow, a new user appeared whose general outlook on life was a strange blend of cynicism and despair: "People suck and you just have to live with that, although I woulddn't if I hadn't promised to." Gradually he started to reshape the entire discussion so it was All About Him, though I genuinely think it wasn't entirely deliberate on his part-- he kept filling in more of his personal background, of which the most pertinent part was that his only reason to hold back from suicide was a promise made to the second love of his life before she died from cancer. The regular posters gave up on him eventually, and it's entirely possible that the site owner just plain locked him out as being inconducive to the original topic. But I felt obscurely sorry enough for him to start poking around the web for more information about him and his late sweetie. Read more... )
wombat1138: (Default)
I know, I know, homosexuality was taken out of the DSM several editions ago, at least in the sense of automatically comprising a form of insanity. That's not quite what I'm getting at, though. Read more... )

Oh, and while I'm still waiting for a second viewing of ROTK before I formulate my Grand Unified Opinion of it, I want a mumak. Mumakil are cool. A mumak could stomp the gubernatorial Humvee into blintzen and poop on it for good measure. And we'd never have to mow the lawn. Not that we have a lawn, but it's the principle of the thing.


wombat1138: (Default)

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