20
Feb 26

Cats great, snow gone, writing written, forecast … let’s just not

Since we haven’t done so this week, and since they featured in otherwise as a big part of the goings on around here, let’s do a quick check in on the kitties. They had a visit to the vet on Monday, had a little anesthesia and a dental checkup and came home woozy. But as that, and their disappointment at being asked to go somewhere and doing something they clearly were not interested in, wore off, they’re right back to normal. And it’s the delightful usual antics and comfort cuddles from them. Or for them. I am never sure which.

Anyway, so that I might fulfill my feline contractual obligations, and also boost traffic around the ol’ site, here’s Phoebe, pointing out, once again, that she is not on the counter, but sitting in this little cardboard drink cartoon thing, thus maintaining her status as a good girl.

And here’s Poseidon, patiently sitting at one of the island chairs. That’s not a usual spot for him, but this week he’s been there a few times.

I’d really like to know how cats establish their patterns, and what prompts them to create new ones.

They’re both doing well, and I am sure would like to just stay inside where it warm, dry, and there are no vet techs.

Their view outside has changed. The snow and ice have melted away. Thursday and today were a big day on that front. The temperatures warmed up just a bit, all of the dry air has been pushed out and, for the first time in almost four weeks, we could see what was beneath it all.

Honestly, it was a little weird for the first few minutes.

We went outside to do some yard thing that has been neglected this past month while we lived inside the arctic circle. The ground was spongy and wet. I said, “Ya know? I miss the snow.”

Not to worry, guess what’s in the weekend forecast: A lot of snow.

So the greenish=brown grass was nice while it lasted, I guess. But we could use the water in the soil, so there’s that.

While we were out, we discovered a dead squirrel. I guess it had been underneath the snow and ice for a while. Not wanting it to just stay there for Ice Age v 2.0, I went over and picked it up. By hand.

Kidding, of course. I do not have the latest in steampunk squirrel removal machinery, however, so I used the Squirrel Lever 3000, brought to you by the makers of the Bass-O-Matic. I apologized to the little guy, and then carefully removed him from the premises. Nature gives and nature takes, and a hard winter is hard on some of the furry little creatures.

Also, this is why the birders are getting fatter on our bird seed. Less competition.

I wrote something last night. Got it published today. It’s about the Olympics, and fans, and nationalism. You can click this link and read it.

We know more about athletes than ever before. We see them in closeup HD. We see them in carefully crafted publicity and commercial campaigns. We see them in their social media. Around the Olympics, there’s even more. We see them in the vignettes that NBC produces, well-crafted packages designed to humanize the person who runs faster and skis better than anyone you’ve ever met.

It can create some real parasocial interaction. That smiling young face, the ones with something to prove to themselves and their neighbors, and the ones trying to show their kids what heart and determination look like, they come into our homes, and we think we know them. They are from places we’ve heard of; they wear the same colors in the same patterns which we hold dear.

Even though almost none of us will ever climb to the top of a podium, and few of us have any real chance of becoming the best in the world at something, we carry with us, just as they do, aches and pains and worries and injuries and fear and love. Yet, for some reason, we aren’t so willing to let them do that.

This is what it means to be an American athlete on the biggest stage in your sport. You hear the ringing cheers and are embraced by coaches and teammates and family and competitors. Maybe you hear your anthem played for you. You face ridicule and scorn, vitriol and threats from far corners.

It goes on like that for a bit, trying not to sound like a scold, until, at the end, it absolutely becomes one.

I think I have one more piece to write next week, where there will be no scolding. I just have to get it in among all of the other things. There are so many other things that must get done. Four classes to prepare for next week, about 100 things to grade, my review packet (some 40-ish pages, but 15 or so are done) and two studies to work on. I go back and forth: there is no time for this, or, I’m in great shape, take the day off. Really it just depends on when I ask myself about it all.

But I’m not going to ask myself about it anymore tonight. I am going to stare at the forecast, and will it to chance.

Meteorologists are predicting 18 inches of snow this weekend. Give or take.


19
Feb 26

Working on my own media aesthetic, it turns out

I bought some new lights. I wanted to backlight some books. The lights arrived Monday, hurled onto the porch from the delivery man’s truck-mounted trebuchet, for he feared my ice labyrinth (a yard of ice and snow, and a driveway still buried until yesterday.

Last night, I finally had a chance to open them. Two small LED lamps connected to one power cable. Lots of pretty colors. Looked great on the promotional website. The video and the inexpensive price sold me.

I opened the box, found the two lights and four different mounts. I also found this booklet.

And, look, light booklet copywriter, I’m glad you have that job. Those gigs aren’t easy to come by, but you should be proud of the work you did throughout. This is important, though: we’re not going on a journey. You’re going to backlight some books.

I spent some time sliding them between the bookcase that holds the Gloms and the wall. It didn’t work quite the way I wanted to. But the lights are fun. You can run them from an app, use standard schemes or develop your own, set a timer, and so on. They’re just the wrong size. But I’ve also got colorful corner laps, slender little things that stand 58 inches tall. So I took apart the frames, slid those behind the Gloms and, ya know, it mostly works. The new lights are now going behind other books. (I have a lot of books, I wonder if I need more lights.) And the look now mostly works! So I have one large bookshelf backlit. I have the top of another backlit. And my old 1930s radio is backlit.

The idea is to make it all the backdrop for video meetings. But as I tinker with the light settings and the exact locations, this could be the beginning of a nice evening setup.

I had an epiphany about the snow today.

I’m going to miss it. We have a sandy soil, but this is just a wet, spongy ground right now. And the grass is, well, brown, as you’d expect.

I found a bowl of candy at the office today. I wonder how long that’ll last. I have two colleagues that have a playful feud about peanut M&Ms and when I saw this, I thought of those guys. One of them is wrong. Peanut M&Ms are just fine. I enjoyed the peanut butter ones today.

It was a nice treat before class. In Rituals and Traditions, we broke the class into groups again. They’ve got group work to do and so group work we began. The group work is now picking up speed. I’m excited to see what they do.

I was also excited to screen this documentary in my Criticism class. I asked them all to jot down the name and impressions they had of all of the people we meet. There’s about eight of them in here.

Then we talked about all of those people. The documentary is about video game addiction. I selected this one because it is a bit shorter, but also because we could do this exercise. We could discuss the different points of view — the guy trying to overcome his problem and help others, his mother, two psychologists, a Facebook executive and a few others — and consider all of the ways that each are talking about the issue.

This could be a media effects conversation, and I pointed that out. We considered the different ways the people came about their ideas in a field of important research that is really only just getting underway. Finally, it is a study in expertise, source credibility, perspective, and authoritative voice.

I was pleased with that. And I was sure to sum it up in the right tone of voice so it sounded, you know, authoritative.

I should have set up some dramatic lighting for precisely that moment in the classroom, too. Maybe next time.


18
Feb 26

There’s always new material

When I write these, I work on the photo or video, and then I type away for awhile. After I type type type, sometimes I proofread them. (I … know!) And after I do all of the typing, I punch in all the little categories and then, finally, I write something as a headline. This, I think, is why the headlines are usually bad, and sometimes nonsensical. By then, I just need to get on to whatever the next thing is.

So let me explain yesterday’s title.

Working with new material, and old snow

Thursday of last week and yesterday were the first two days that I didn’t have to design a class meeting from the ground up. Oh, there are always a few things to update or add. That’s to be expected, and I did that last Wednesday and Thursday and on Monday. But what I usually find myself doing on the days before a class is building lecture notes, reading material, creating slide decks and also grading and whatever else. And by usually, I mean always. And by always I mean every time.

I’ve been running classes here for three years. In that time, I have had 14 classes. That’s pretty standard. Of those, 10 have been new preps. That’s not standard. What it is is a lot. New preps are time intensive. Three of those are classes I’ve designed from the ground up — even more time intensive. There’s a lot of thought, efforts, wrong trails, reading, course corrections, reading other stuff and so on that go in each new unit of each new class you’re developing. It’s easier when the material is there, like in some of those instances when I’ve taken over someone else’s class. Then you sink your time into that. But its easiest when you’re teaching something you’ve already taught. Then, you know it. Last Thursday, and yesterday, were the first days in all of my time here (and I’m being kind, because I could stretch this back to classes I taught in the teens) where I wasn’t in a perpetual start over mode.

It wasn’t all brand new because while I spent two days talking about fan identity and the various theories involved in my Rituals and Traditions class, I have used those in another class, and I only needed to refresh my thoughts. And last Thursday in Criticism I showed a documentary, and we discussed it then and yesterday, and I only needed to pull out my notes to make sure that I got in the key points. And then the class discussed the regular two stories, which is new, but just requires a few readings. My online class, meanwhile, I’ve taught a few times before. All the lectures are prepared, and mostly I deliver messages, keep things moving, keep people on track and, as in every class, do the grading.

This is hardly a complaint, simply an observation. Everyone sees the same thing. Maybe one day we’ll get it resolved such that I am in my own lane, carving out my own niche, and so on. That was the original idea, which has not yet been fleshed out to a plan. Maybe, though, we’re getting closer to addressing that.

Interestingly (not really), all of my classes next fall will be classes I’ve taught before. Which will be good! I’m ready for a little mental break. Just a little one. Recharge the batteries, read different new things, dream up new ideas, all of that. Of course, one of the classes I’m teaching in the fall is the online class, with which I am well acquainted. But that class will be taught in person. So I have to figure that out. And my other two classes will be converted from meeting twice a week to once a week.

There’s always new material.

And there’s always the old snow. If this sticks around until the weekend this will have been on the ground for a month. But there’s good news. It’s finally warming up a little. And look what moved in overnight.

Fog equals moisture, and that’s one of the things we’ve been missing these last many weeks. That and reasonable temperatures. Moisture speeds up the melting. It’s the heat brought about by condensation. So all of that fog is a good thing. We are no longer in an arctic desert.

Today I shoveled the sidewalk. That was my work break. I shoveled the sidewalk because we left it alone after the last round of snow three-plus weeks ago. We stood in the driveway, cold and tired and I said “Are you expecting any deliveries?” My lovely bride said she was not. So I said hang it. No one is coming over and this doesn’t need to get done right now. I stand by the decision, but I didn’t realize it’d be 24 days until I did it. Oh, widened the driveway. We helped dig out a neighbor. And I helped another neighbor find her sidewalk again, but my own wasn’t a priority. And then, Monday, a delivery guy did show up, and he just hurled something from a great distance at the door.

Not that I blame him. Who knows how much ice and snow that guy has dealt with, and how many times he’s risked a sprained this or a twisted that in these last several weeks.

Fortunately, the ice is giving a way just a bit, and most of the sidewalk cleaned up easily.

The cats are doing great, and acting much more like themselves. I was pleased to enjoy a great purring cuddle last night. Back to normal. Back to hi-jinx. Back to happy.

And, now, back to class prep.

There’s always new material.


17
Feb 26

Working with new material, and old snow

The cats are doing great. Much more like themselves today after a bit of anesthesia and dental work yesterday. Poseidon is basically back to normal. Phoebe has been a bit sleepy, but late this evening is behaving as we’d expect, which is great, because she is loving and cuddly. They’re eating and purring and I’m sure everything will be back to normal tomorrow. They have to get a bit of medicine, which we’ll put in their food for a few days, but otherwise great. I am petting them extra much. They deserve it.

In Rituals and Traditions, we wrapped up a few days discussing fans. I ask the class to try to see fans from the perspective of a team or school or league, as if they’re working for them. We talk about sociology via Goffman, and then three theories here, first the classic social identity theory and then role identity theory and, finally, identity fusion theory.

This time out I added new bit about highly identified fans, as I recently learned a family story that is illustrative. I got a laugh out of it, too. Now, I think, I will add a little more to that story every time — like I’m trying to work on a stand-up routine.

In Criticism we discussed media aesthetics. I showed stills from the documentary we watched last week to talk about framing and shot composition. We also talked about two stories about e-sports and gaming. And one of my colleagues, who teaches in our e-sports program was very generous with her time and joined us for the conversation. I was grateful for the additional insights.

First, we talked about Why So Many Esports Pros Come From South Korea:

Much of their decisions to go pro hinged upon schooling. South Korea is a famously well-educated country where roughly 70 percent of students pursue higher education after high school. However, the academic environment is also intensely competitive, to the point where cram schools are a given for most Korean students who hope to score well on the Suneung, South Korea’s nationalized college entrance exam.

For Korean students whose families can’t afford private tutors or cram schools, the odds are stacked considerably against them. PC bangs—gaming cafés where you can rent a PC and play popular games for hours on end—however, are innumerable and very affordable. Most PC bangs charge about ₩1,000 an hour, which roughly comes out to $1.

So here’s the math: South Korea is the most fiercely skilled gaming region on the planet, but that’s because it has a bunch of working-class kids with little social mobility and a lot of free time (no tutoring, no cram school) with ubiquitous access to dirt-cheap internet cafés. South Korea’s gaming infrastructure and culture is what gives Korean kids the means to become the best players in the world, but the country’s structural inequality is a big part of what drives them to go pro in the first place.

So, right away, we were able to figure out if the social dynamics in South Korea are similar to some sports in other parts of the world. (They are.)

That was an interesting story all the way around, and, again, I was able to call on a real expert. That was even more helpful in the second story, which was No girls allowed which is an insightful history piece that explains some of the ouroboros of game development, and perhaps hints at what preceded Gamergate. It’s also an examination of marketing.

When Romero’s daughter Maezza was 8, she returned home from school with a story for her mother. Maezza had told her classmates that when she grows up, she wants to be a game designer. She was a level 90 in World of Warcraft. She loved wearing her Blizzard T-shirt to school. She wanted to learn how to code and make games. A kid in her class turned around. “Girls don’t play games,” he said. “Fortunately, my daughter had a great response,” Romero says. “She said to the boy, ‘My mommy makes games.’ She owned him entirely.” That the concept of “girls don’t play games” exists even among children in schoolyards today has less to do with the actual numbers of players as much as it has to do with an idea that was heavily circulated from the ’90s through television commercials, magazine ads, video game box art and the media. After all, a person who grew up in the ’90s would have little or even no reference for what came before. Their first game marketing experiences would have sold a very black-and-white picture about who video games are for. But this idea is starting to break down. According to Cotteleer, industries tend to look beyond their existing target demographic only when the market has become totally saturated. It can take a while” sometimes more than a decade. And when that happens, they ask, “Who’s next?” She says Nintendo mastered this with the launch of the Wii console, which went on to break records in console sales and introduce video gaming to audiences who had previously never bought a console or played a video game. Its advertising also deliberately targets a different audience, using celebrity spokespeople like Beyoncé, Penelope Cruz and Robin Williams and his daughter Zelda. But the process of breaking down the widely held stereotype of games being for boys doesn’t end with game-makers targeting diverse audiences, Bogost says. In fact, he doesn’t believe that is the right approach, in the same way he doesn’t believe that the industry going after the male audience was a smart idea. “It seems to me an enormously stupid idea, actually,” Bogost says. “All you have to do is look at the most successful games to see that it’s only been possible for them to be massively successful if they don’t systematically exclude half the population.” In order for video games to overcome their existing stereotype, they have to be sold to us as general purpose products. Bogost uses bookstores as an example. No one is surprised when they go into a bookstore and find that there are books for children, books about gardening or books about cooking. It’s accepted that books are a general purpose medium that can address lots of interests. The same applies to television” it doesn’t surprise people that there are channels dedicated to cooking, sports, animals or news. Bogost says that games are already there in terms of there being a diverse variety that can do different things” it just hasn’t effectively gotten the message out there yet. When the message gets out there” when video games are seen as a general purpose medium, and a person who plays Angry Birds can associate that with playing games on a PlayStation 4″ then perhaps the stereotype will begin to fade.

We read and discussed these stories because the students from last semester rightly pointed out we didn’t talk about gaming at all. And we should! Big business, and full of important content. I’m glad I received that suggestion, and was happy to address it this term.

The snow is still here. As of late last week this was one of the longest persisting snows in recorded history. They measure that by inches. So they had it that three inches had been on the ground for however many days was the mark. It ranks third, and a more depressing snow site hadn’t been seen since the 1960s.

We are in week four of this snow, but it is lessening.

With more threatened. But that’s for another day. Tomorrow, I’m going to shovel our sidewalk.


16
Feb 26

Woem woem

Everyone here is fine, but we’ve spent the evening watching the kitties closely. They had a planned visit to the vet today, going in first thing, and they enjoyed a dose of anesthesia. After they woke up and it wore off they were eventually allowed to come home. My lovely bride went to pick them up and got a good report from the office. She pulled into the drive, kitties in tow and I went out to help. One cat per carrier, and neither of them feeling like themselves, and varying degrees of stoned and mad.

The carriers have a top door and a side door, and the side door seemed like the right idea in the moment, and it was. They were still too goofy to jump well. They walked all around the house in slinky postures. Hyper aware, and confused and intent. It was a little bit silly and a little bit pitiful. Phoebe wanted to be near Poseidon for some reason, and he was mad at the whole world. And so it was kind of like that the rest of the night, watching them try to return to normal. Medicine here, special food there. Cats want to be up high, but you shouldn’t be on a counter top when you are refamiliarizing yourself with having four legs. It was a dental appointment, and everything went fine, but its weird watching two basic cat personalities not behaving up to spec.

So that was much of the day. Worrying about them, doing school work, then worrying over them. And then wondering how they feel, and if they’ll feel like normal tomorrow, and if they’ll like us again tomorrow. And trying to keep them from falling over this or off that.

And also watching the snow not melt. The slightly warmer temperatures arrived this weekend. The rain did not. And so it’s all still out there.

I learned this weekend that the way they measure it here is a bit different. Not how much fell, or when it fell, or the quality of the snow, but how much it sticks around. Someone has a chart somewhere and it shows the days when X number of inches of snow just … stuck around. The tote board marking the longevity of three inches of snow goes back to the 19th century. And this particular snow is now climbing up the charts. This is the third most persistent snow at that depth, though we got more snow then, and we still have that or more in our yard. They’ve not recorded a more stubborn snow here in more than a half century.

The moisture in the air will help. That we have a week of days above freezing will help. That some nights we’ll stay above freezing will help.

But that snow is sticking around. It has nowhere to go. It is the guest at the door who is not taking the hint. We are now in the fourth week of this nonsense.

Tomorrow, the cats will, I’m sure, bounce back nicely. We’ll go to school. The snow and ice won’t go anywhere.

But, now, I’m going to go grade things into the wee hours of the morning.