powering down.

Okay, this is the last official post on Done by Fourths. From now one, please refer to synergizement.com/blog for all your Timoni updates. And, of course, update your links accordingly.

The theme is not done--I ganked a pretty pastel layout from somebody in the meantime--and it looks pretty bare in comparison to the lovely javascripts and automatic feeds I have set up over here, but they should all be added in due time.

I feel like I just moved out of my house into a new house that's bigger and better, but that needs a paint job and a new kitchen and I left half of my stuff at my old comfy place.

But it's already got a calendar...and categories...and, well, frankly, it's mine.

YAY.

I haff submitted the t-shirt.

Update after six days + pointless CSS lesson + new website sooooooon

It's been almost six days since my last post. That's about twice as long a wait as usual. It's because I've been working on my new site in my free time, which has amounted basically to the following:

(1) I download a template or mess around on a site looking for design ideas.
(2) I half-heartedly apply these ideas to another template I didn't like much anyway.
(3) I decide I hate it all and scrap the whole thing.

Except last night I finally had an epiphany: I know exactly what I want the new blog to look like. I want it to look like the back of a milk carton, or a government-issue juice box, or a Nutrition Facts label, only more complicated. (I was inspired, in part, by McLean Bible's truly phenomenal graphic designer, who used a similar theme in the powerpoint presentation this Sunday at Frontline. I was also, oddly, inspired by Star Trek.) Anyway I have a mockup (a real life Photoshopped forty-layer mockup!) and I will be writing the CSS tonight.

I have actually never written a style sheet straight out before, and I'm excited about it. I previously would change stylesheets (like the one for this blog) but editing other people's stylesheets is sort of obnoxious.

If you don't know stylesheets but are at least vaguely curious about what I'm talking about, let me explain at least in part. See that title up there? The one that says "Update after six days"? Notice how it's bigger than this font? That's because somebody decided (okay, I decided) to make sure all the titles were bigger. So basically I wrote a line that said "Make all post titles 15 pixels" that looks like this:

post.title {
font-size: 15px;
}

Easy, right? Except some people don't feel like being descriptive, or they want a lot of other things to be 15 pixels as well, so they make a more generic looking tag for all the headlines on the page, using the classic HTML code of "h" for headlines, and a number to indicate the size of the font:

h4 {
font-size: 15px;
}

Which is all well and good for the designer, who knows that "h4" also means "post titles," but that's a pain for me to try and find out later on, when I'm trying to edit the titles' size.

Basically what this boils down to is, if you start with your own style sheet, you don't have to worry about deciphering anybody else's electronic shorthand, and that is EXCITING.

Disclaimer: I am actually continuing to watch this show.

So I'm on episode eight of "Lost," that Dance-Dance Revolution of television shows, and I am not impressed. Episodes two and three were pretty cool, what with the blood and monsters and stuff, but four through eight seemed to be a a series of Triumphs of the Human Spirit in under forty minutes with inane dialogue and a truly appalling number of cliches.

Words I also thought about using in that sentence: "trite," "hackenyed," "eye-roll-inducing," "giggle-inducing," "horrific," "ridiculous."

Example Quotes:

Locke: The island. The island brought us here. This is no ordinary place, you've seen that, I know you have. But the island chose you, too, Jack. It's destiny.

Dr. Christian Shephard: [to a young Jack] Because I have what it takes. Don't choose, Jack, don't decide. You don't want to be a hero. You don't want to try and save everyone because when you fail... you just don't have what it takes.

Sayid: I've worse things to fear than what's in the jungle. What I did today... what I almost did... I swore to do never again. If I can't keep that promise, I have no right to be here.
Kate: There's nowhere to go.
Sayid: Someone has to walk the shore and map the island, see what else there is. I can't think of a better person to do it than the only one I trust.

Kate: The act. You try too hard, Sawyer. I ask you to help a woman who can't breathe, and you want me to kiss you? Nobody's that disgusting... I've seen you, ya know.
Sawyer: Seen me what?
Kate: With that piece of paper. The one you keep in your pocket. Seen the expression on your face when you read it. How carefully you fold it up. Means something to you. So you can play games all you want. But I know there's a human being in there somewhere. Give me the medication.

Not only are the quotes bad, but there's a lot of situational cliches that I sort of thought Intelligent Television (Arrested Development, the Office) had gotten rid of.

Um...You'll need example of what I'm talking about. Howabout there's a guy everybody hates, and he wants to confront the group about it and how he needs to be loved:

ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT VERSION:

HATED GUY: You guys don't like me. I know it. In fact, you hate me.
[pause]
SOMEONE: Well, this is true. But don't let it bother you. [slaps guy on back] I mean, nobody likes everybody all the time, right?
SOMEONE ELSE: That doesn't make any sense.
HATED GUY: I knew it! I knew you guys hated me! [takes popsicle out of the freezer and eats it]
NARRATOR: In fact, everybody did hate Hated Guy.

LOST VERSION:

HATED GUY: You guys don't like me. I know it. In fact, you hate me.
[long, uncomfortable pause]
HATED GUY: And I know why. It's because you judge my actions without knowing who I am. My father was a cold, cruel man who despised me and locked me in the cellar till I came of age. He taught me to lie and cheat and steal and never follow my dreams, just in case I got hurt. Then he killed my mother and then himself. Then his ghost came back from the grave. It stands over my bed ever night, whispering that I'll never live up to his standards and how he wishes I've never been born. [arms flailing] You don't know what I've been through! Why do you despise me for killing that child and eating its heart with my bare hands?
[long, uncomfortable pause]
HERO: I...I'm so sorry, Hated Guy. I've misjudged you, and by misjudging you, I've failed my own cruel, insensitive father. Failed him even more than that time we were skydiving and I accidentally gave him the broken parachute. [holds arms out for hug] C'mere, you.
[HERO hugs HATED GUY]
[BOTH gaze into the distance, eyes welling with tears, images of their fathers smiling on the horizon]

I suppose this explains why every episode of "Lost" needs to be forty minutes long, whereas "Arrested Development" is only 22 minutes long.

Another big weird dramatic cliche that I thought had been discarded by modern television was the Unexplained Silence, but "Lost" uses it in a big way. Take a scene where one character gets caught in a cave-in and the other characters try to dig him out:

NEWCOMER: Where is he? Where's Jack?
[silence]
NEWCOMER: Is he dead?
[silence]
NEWCOMER: Why aren't we digging him out!?!?!
[silence]
[NEWCOMER starts heroically digging out rocks]

Now, I know all of the answers to these questions, because I had watched the previous five minutes before the newcomer entered the scene. If only I got to be a character on "Lost," the dialogue would be, well, more informative:

NEWCOMER: Where is he? Where's Jack?
ME: Still in the cave.
NEWCOMER: Is he dead?
ME: We're not sure, but he was all right five minutes ago.
NEWCOMER: Why aren't we digging him out!?!?!
ME: Well, actually, we've been digging him out. We created a tunnel and sent a guy through, in fact, but then there was another cave-in, so now we're trying to decide if we want to dig through this place again or find another location. So chill, miss thang.

In other news, I've just assigned my Laughing Squid DNS to my domain. I am about twenty-four hours away from having my own site workable site. *excitement*

Internet I damn thee

You'd think it'd be easy to find a black knitted scarf with small knitted crossbone motifs knitted on it, but let me tell you something: it's not. Goth shops, you have failed me for the last time.

In other news, I get to start teleworking every other Friday. That means this Friday you'll find me at Murky Coffee from sunrise to sunset (which is, sadly, only about eight hours during these short winter months).

Okay back to work.

Happy Halloween

M w a h a h a h a h a h a

Robot Karma, final

Okay so I sent it off today. Odds of getting printed: extremely slim. Nowadays everything is beige and squiggly lines and v.v. clever. But it was a fun exercise.

Anthropologie is a complete nightmare.

It's like walking into a world where people have too much money but no concept of quality. Itchy woolen sweaters with no lining, delicate embroidered velvet skirts with no lining, nothing has a lining. There's a whole lot of inventiveness but to pay $400 for an inventive yet poorly constructed sweater just seems madness. I thought perhaps I was the only one who had figured this out till I heard the following exchange between a potential customer and one of the employees:

CUSTOMER: Ma'am, can you help me? I can't figure this dress out.
EMPLOYEE: Of course. What seems to be the problem?
CUSTOMER: Well, you see this little hood-like bit back here? I don't see where it attaches here.
EMPLOYEE: Hm, well, I'm sure it's meant to be that way...let's see...

*they fiddle with the dress for a few minutes*

EMPLOYEE: Geez, I don't know.
CUSTOMER: You see? I want to buy this dress, but it seems like it's broken.*
EMPLOYEE: Yes, I see what you mean.
CUSTOMER: I really, really want to buy this dress, but I just can't do it when it's like that.
EMPLOYEE: I'm sorry, I can't help you.

*She really said "broken."

Anyway. Today I got some new pens and walked from Foggy Bottom back home, stopping here and there in the meantime. I got a black hat and some awesome black-and-white striped cutoff gloves at H&M, then sat for an hour at Ollsson's in Courthouse and read Black Hole, possibly one of the most intense and certainly the darkest and best novels I have ever read about the mystery of young love and sex. It's a masterpiece of technique and, I would say, it is almost brilliant. It lacks the fullness spectrum of human emotion--it is too one-sided--but the parts it explores are shown with a very, very painful...hm. "Tenderness" is not the world. "Fondness" maybe is, or maybe just "familiarity." In any case Publisher's Weekly was putting it right, if a bit dramatically, when they said "Burns's art is inhumanly precise, and he makes ordinary scenes as creepy as his nightmare visions of a world where intimacy means a life worse than death."

It occurs to me the above paragraph may have me inadvertantly answering the question I soberly pondered all the way from Courthouse to Clarendon, i.e., why does some great art seem to suck all of the life out of you, while other art inspires? I felt like a wreck after reading Black Hole, even though I knew it was great and touched on some truths and explained them in new ways--one of my criteria for great art. It was like walking through the Surrealist exhibit at the Met or Matthew Barney's exhibit at the Guggenheim; you know you're in the presence of technical genuis but there is only one tone; there is no relief. Only storm and no sun, so to speak. I'd feel the same way about Crime and Punishment if the final twenty pages had been cut out. One needs some sense of a mutual feeling on all levels--there is depression and terror and evil, but there is also hope and goodness.

To show only one side or the other may put human experience into sharp relief, which strengthens the message of the creation--I can see why some artists do it--heck, most artists of the twentieth century played with extremes. It allows for a less ambiguous message even while the creations themselves become more abstract. But I think you lose out by deepening one tone at the expense of another. The audience can't entirely relate. There were flashes of Black Hole that were familiar in the horror and pain and confusion--Charles Burns (skillfully) used a lot of basic imagery to ensure any Western audience would get his themes: a vertical slit or gash, a wound, water, enclosed spaces, immersion. But it was pain and nothing else--sort of leading the reader down into a cave of terror and then leaving him there. I think Matthew Barney's work is very similar, only worse because he revels in it; we wound five levels of the Guggenheim only to find increased depravity at every turn, and at the top, the darkest and most horrific stage of all.

I think this sort of work is applauded after its conception because of the skill and genius of the creation, and its novelty. But my bet is that it will eventually be forgotten, or at least set out of the canon of greatness, because it lacks the whole. It's hard to tell. The novel is so young, and the graphic novel is even younger, and it's such a potent communication tool that it may be graded on a different level in the end. I know certain generations or even certain personalities (depressed ones, really) will be able to point to Black Hole as a milestone in the art.

Also...

My mother scolded me tonight for having a less-than-completely stellar default photo on an online dating site. For serious: "It's not bad, but it's not the best photo you could have. It's an online dating site! I think some of the ones from your birthday would be much better."

Let it never be said that my mother is not interested in my well-being.

Metaweird

Okay: so I got some Netflix yesterday, but haven't opened them yet. And they are over there on the living room table by the couch, and here I am on the dining room table with my computer, and so instead of walking seven feet and opening them to see what I've got, I decided to just go to Netflix instead and look at my queue.

And then I decided to blog about it.

In other news, I've decided on my first Threadless submission. O excitement! Here is the sketch I did tonight at Murky Coffee:


Robot Karma.

It's going to be cleaned up and Illustrator-ized, but it's a beginning, anyway.

Goals...!

I have some! Hooray!

First up is saving up for SXSWi. This is doable, definitely.

Secondly, I'm going to try out an experiement where I write at least one comic script a day. I started this yesterday. So far I have: two.

If I haven't mentioned this already, I make the executive decision week before last that the New York Times just is better than the Post. People have argued at me about this several times, and I could never participate, because I neither had an opinion nor cared, but something clicked two weeks ago and now I'm a Times reader.

Having said that, here's some great quotes from the Post piece on poor, poor Meiers.

"This thing never got off the launching pad very well," said a senior administration official, who spoke on the condition of anonymity because public airing of self-criticism is not encouraged in the White House.

Miers had not been prominent on anyone's short list but Bush's.

The official seriously-who-says-that-quote:"The expectations were so high," said Tony Perkins, president of the Family Research Council, a conservative activist group, "this nomination left people scratching their heads -- and in some cases stamping their feet and pounding their fists -- because they were disappointed."

Incidentally, I had a dream last night that my co-worker Michelle was the new Bush appointee to the Supreme Court. She and Laura and I were all standing around talking: "Wow, Michelle...I knew you were intelligent and have a great memory, but still...you're gonna be the youngest Supreme Court Justice in history! Are you excited?"

And even the dream Michelle is pretty chill: "Eh, y'know, yeah, a little excited."

Meiers, Zorkis, Photos and Ein Kaffee

Poor Harriet Meiers. I get the feeling it wasn't her fault, she's just small and looks like Doctor Ruth's strung-out sister and has no opinions and frankly, that does not inspire confidence in war-torn America. I'm afraid Bush will nominate a truly horrible Richards counterpart, now, another blue-eyed throwback to the fifties with hair like a shiny countertop. That guy just creeps me out.

In other news, I got my Zorki. If you don't know what I'm talking about, here's an old post explaining it. I got it yesterday morning at the Post Office and spent the rest of the day Learning; I can now tell you with some confidence about f-stops and aperatures and always cock the shutter before changing the shutter speed!!! but really, I don't even know if I threaded the film correctly, and I won't know for a few days. In the meantime, practice practice practice.

I took a few photos of the Zorki and will have some online later. Last night I was distracted by scanning in old family photos and sticking them up on Flickr. Here's a taste:


I hope to add more, but for now, they mainly focus on bad hair and clothing choices. Although there are some nice ones of Mom.

Finally, if you haven't donated to aid Pakistani refugees yet, you can do so here.

This is only a test.

Ooo, I did this in Flock!

Interesting article with a Japanese artist

Takashi Murakami is an extremely well-known pop artist from Japan; I'm sure anybody who's ever looked at a website has seen photos or articles of his sculptures. I found this interview with the Journal of Contemporary Art fascinating. It's from 2000, so a bit before Murakami hit sculpter supahstardom, and I'm not sure if his resentful tone about Japan stems from being an okatu back home or having not fully achieved success abroad. In any case, the interview is worth reading whether you're interested in Japanese culture, geek culture or the artistic impulse. Here are some excerpts:

The primary reason that I want to represent otaku culture comes from the public ignorance of otaku; most people dislike otaku because they have no access to information on otaku. I am one of the losers who failed to become an otaku king. Only a person who has a superb memory in order to win at a debate can become a king of otaku. Since I didn't have that ability, I became an artist.

But, in my view, otaku is discriminated against in the contemporary Japanese society...Most of the newly developed cults consist of people like the otaku because they are so severely discriminated and alienated that they either choose to join these cults or create new cults in their desperate search for salvation. Then, when I consider what Japanese culture is like, the answer is that it all is subculture. Therefore, art is unnecessary.

Wakasa: Even though your art expresses the reality of the present time, do you still assert that your art is not new?

Murakami: I express hopelessness.

Wakasa: Your art looks positive to me.

Murakami: If my art looks positive and cheerful, I would doubt my art was accepted in the contemporary art scene. My art is not Pop art. It is a record of the struggle of the discriminated people.

Wakasa: So are the sculptures merely animation figures for otaku?

Murakami: No. They are art. Therefore, otaku dislike my work. They don't want me to reveal their discriminated status. Otaku want to be left alone because they are happy by themselves, when enjoying events for otaku (underground comic fairs) like the Wonder Festival or comike [comic market], where 350,000 - 400,000 people come together. Comike attest to otaku's struggle to maintain their fantasy even though they become alienated from society. I think it is strange that neither students riots nor popular demonstrations occurred when the nuclearplant at Tokaimura exploded. Usually, when people resent injustice and inequality in societies, demonstrations take place. But, in Japan all the people who have such resentment become otaku.

Wakasa: They don't show their anger, confining their emotion inside.

Murakami: They don't have to, because they have emotional vents such as the Wonder Festival and comike for blowing off steam. So, they don't have to hold demonstrations.

Wakasa: Do they have no interest in improving our society?

Murakami: No. They know that they can't get away from the structure that maintains the discriminatory system against them.

Wakasa: They have already given up, haven't they?

Murakami: Yes.

Wakasa: Why have they given up?

Murakami: Please think about yourself. Have you also given up?

Wakasa: Do you think American collectors and gallerists understand your works?

Murakami: Yes. I explain it to them and they accept it for what it is. They think that my art provides them with knowledge about Japan that they lack. They listen to me because they want to understand Japan. On the other hand, most Japanese would not listen to me when I start talking about otaku. Japanese journalists say that since they don't understand otaku, they can't write about my work.

Wakasa: All your projects were very successful.

Murakami: Because I conducted research about the art market. There are examples of what an artist should do at a certain age. If someone wants to survive in any field, he or she should conduct research about the field he or she belongs to. But most people don't bother.

Wakasa: But taste should also be reflected in art.

Murakami: Yes, otherwise there is no reality in it.

Wakasa: In your case, your taste happens to fit your strategy.

Murakami: The reason why my art is not popular.

Wakasa: It is popular.

Murakami: No. In my prospect, I should have been as popular as Damien Hirst and should have been put on a cover of an art magazine like Rirkrit Tiravanija. In fact, I wasn't. It was the limitation of my talent. I know how to present my work, but in order to be very successful, an artist has to break through a thin membrane. It takes another talent.

Howdy from the State Department!

Today I am feelin' slightly off from lack of sleep and strange dreams, but as the result seems to be a tendency to giggle more, I suppose it's all right. I had a weird situation where I ran into a Former Lover of My Ex's last night and had about two minutes of what felt like extreme nervous-must-flee-argh-my-stomach-hurts-feelings followed by an invitation to hang out on Halloween. Contrary to everybody's popular belief, this sort of thing does not happen to me every day.

Everyone, I have a bit of a problem. As some of you may know, I have recently switched to a stricter budget in order to pay off bills and go travelling next year. Amazingly, so far the amount of pride I feel at the end of each day does in fact equal out the complete lack of dress pants I own. It is Going Well. The problem is, instead, where do I go.

Abroad, obviously, is my big answer and normally the only answer. But!

SXSW.

Which I want to attend so, so badly.

If the music bit wasn't enough--which it is--let me point out that there are also movies and interactive (web) sections.

"All right, Timoni," I can hear you saying, in a practical tone, "it's only in Austin. Just go to the UK/Spain/Prague later in the year."

Okay, I think I can do that except...except... [covers eyes and holds out:]

2006 REGISTRATION RATES & DEADLINES

Platinum Badge (Film, IA & Music)
$800 (through Feb. 10), $875 (walkup)

Music Badge
$525 (through Feb. 10), $575 (walkup)

Gold Badge (Film & IA)
$445 (through Feb. 10), $495 (walkup)

Film Badge
$275 (through Feb. 10), $300 (walkup)

Interactive Badge
$275 (through Feb. 10), $300 (walkup)

This does not include hotels, food, transportation, or taking a heck of a lot of time off work. And yeah, you can buy wristbands when you get there, but:

MrSofty
Posted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 1:22 pm Post subject: wristbands

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Advice on how someone from out-of-town can purchase a wristband in advance? They sold out last year and I was unable to get access to many shows after travelling 700 miles to attend

Mom
Posted: Mon Oct 24, 2005 12:43 pm Post subject:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wristband sales are limited to Austin and are in ever-shorter supply. Don't come to Austin during SXSW expecting to see any one or two bands or that a wristband will get you into every show you want to see - one never knows what will happen, and many shows become limited to badges only, depending on space. This may especially be true this year since it is the 20th Anniversary and sales of Music and Platinum badges are at record highs.

I guess I should keep in mind that SXSW will always be there, right? Oh wait. So will Prague.

Additionally:
While I hold Dame Patti Smith in the highest of regards, to the point of giving her a fake British title, for example, I feel embarrassed every time I hear the song "Horses." Embarrassed in a hearing-poetry-spoken-aloud sort of way. Must delete.

The boss is gone...

and so is Laura, and I had a weird sleeping pattern this weekend, and so I am finding it VERY HARD to concentrate and do any sort of work.

*reads more online stuff*

Additionally, I got into a bit of a debate with my mother on gay rights yesterday and today, a subject I find quite distracting. But hey, I live in Washington D.C.. There is no better place to get out there and start making my views known.

The weekend

Key pictures:


Bridesmaids.


Turkey legs.


Freaky masks.


And of course bosoms.

More Renaissance Festival shots (including HATS).

The Ren Fair was great, despite the mud/rain/etc. Steve-O-Ween had some of the nicest and coolest people I have ever met at a party, including a guy on the Hill who claimed to be dressed as Tom DeLay but who looked ridiculously like John Michael Higgins (Michelle got his number) and another guy who was dressed as an Arab but who reminded us all of John Corbett (Laura got his number). Ironically, the Steve after whom Steve-O-Ween was titled looks rather like David Krumholtz. Clearly it was random celebrity look-alike sighting night.

I got no numbers, although I did get an offer to grab somebody's ass. It ended up not working out.

Mah weekend

Just a general little update in case, y'know, you need to get in touch with me or something.

Tonight: Hanging out with the lay-deez and drinkin' cider and eating pumpkin seeds and HOPEFULLY Arrested Development Season 2 will be waiting for me when I get home.

Tomorrow: Ren Fair (hooray!) and then a extremely large costume partAY. Michelle knows one or two people who are going; Laura and I know Michelle. So far I have: black cocktail dress, heels, pearls, cigarette holder, fake eyelashes, elbow-length gloves, boa. If I can make it to the store tonight to buy a hat, I'm going as Auntie Mame. If I can't, I'll run by the costume store tomorrow and get a tiara and be Hepburn in "Breakfast at Tiffany's." Either way I get to say "dahling" a lot, which is really all I could ever ask for.

Other updates:

My Zorki is apparently stuck in customs, or something. I've been refunded and frankly, it's good to have the cash back what with the Ren Fair and birthdays and travel and Going Outs coming up, but on the other hand...bye bye, lil' Zorki. *sniff* Well, now I know what I want for Christmas.

Flock has come out, so I need to download it.

I read A History of Violence and Ice Haven the other day at Barnes and Noble in one sitting. I don't recommend doing this unless:

(a) You've been thinking to yourself that you need to be more sad; or
(b) You are sad and you're the sort that feels happier reading about people whose lots in life are worse than yours.

Although if you're a fan of Daniel Clowes, I have to add that Ice Haven is much, much happier than David Boring.

Whoa, it's the calendar to end all calendars

For D.C., anyway. It's a collection of all the shows/movies/artsy stuff going on (lite on the intellectual side, heavy on the club side, but still).

DC Freaks Events Calendar

See, I did not even know the Rapture were going to be in the area tomorrow.