text:
bio: how to

(image courtesy Alan Mays)

A few of the agents I’m querying want to see a bio. The author’s bio is only about a paragraph long but don’t let its size fool you.  Approach with a machete and a stiff upper lip. There will be blood. Who knew introducing yourself could be so hard.

If you’re like me, you get nervous. First, get it all off your chest in one pathetic breath. For example:

After obtaining honors and degrees from fancy institutions Anna Fonté (rhymes with nosegay, deejay, bidet) taught high school English for ten years, then did the math and retired early. (5 classes =160 students @ 2 essays per month = 320 essays @ 4 pages each = 1300 pages per month + thoughtful and helpful comments x school year = impossible ÷ kill me now.) Now I live in Berkeley, CA where I write novels, short stories, poems, personal essays, and accounts of my attempts to befriend the neighborhood crows. I find writing much more interesting than getting published although a few of my stories have found homes online and in print, most recently in ElevenEleven’s issue #12 (due to a rare and precious solicited submission. The bulk of my work will be left as a legacy to my daughters who, despite their young ages, already possess much more savvy and swagger than I ever will). I can always be found at

Next, slap yourself across the face, one slap per cheek, grab your own shoulders, and shake. Rule #1 (according to friend Helen, who once interned at a literary agency) is “no jokes, no blether.” This is a professional introduction after all, the kind where you shake hands firmly and look them in the eye, this is no kindergarten stand-up where you pick your nose and show them what you found.

So first, slice off all the parts that sound like nervous laughter.

Next, chop off all irrelevant references to classes and courses and jobs unrelated to creative writing.

Cut any mention of things you’ve written unless they’ve been published because that’s just pathetic.

Pull a “Kill Bill” on every reference to your family or children. You wouldn’t bring them to an interview, would you?

Don’t forget to stick in all the literary prizes you’ve been awarded, including writers’ retreats you’ve attended, especially if you won an invitation.

Last, stab all the I’s and speak in the third, not the first, person, because remember, this isn’t personal.

So here’s what’s left:

Anna Fonté’s work has appeared online and in print, most recently in ElevenEleven#12. She taught high school English and now lives in Berkeley, CA.

(Thanks, Jenni for the tip about the large font.)

In summary, your bio is about a person, but it’s not personal.  Irony here.

What do you think?
What’s on your bio?

About Anna Fonté

Girl in the Hat, aka Anna Fonté, is an author who writes about invisibility, outsider status, everyday monsters, and her attempts to befriend the neighborhood crows. The things she writes want you to look at them.

  1. I was nicely warm under an electric throw (no heat at the moment), reading Cronin’s THE TWELVE, which is unputdownable, but then I had to leap up and head to my computer to tell you that I adored your original bio.
    I would only stop before “The bulk of my work….” because that begins to sound defensive and sad.

    Oh, please, HUMOR, yes. I loved it.

    • Jody! Why no heat and what’s the book about and I know, you’d think they wouldn’t mind a good chuckle, but apparently those in-the-know say no. (I did puff my original bio up a bit to emphasize the bloodshed. I agree, so pitiful at the end.)

  2. I used to joke around in my query letter because my ms was a satire and therefore, funny, so I figured I should be funny in my intro. No takers. A writer friend convinced me to get serious in my query and bio, because that’s what agents want to see: Can you write? Are you someone who believes in your ms enough to represent it in public? Glad to see you’re not making the same mistake as me.

    • I am serious about taking all the help I’m offered. By now, I know my own ideas have not panned out. I am a very good listener, my ego is no longer attached, and I am eternally grateful to anyone who will steer me right. (I still can’t believe that last paragraph is what they want. Really? Is that really it?)

      • Hi Anna, the publishing world is changing. All this submission and rejection will soon be a thing of the past. I’d like to see you put your crows pieces into a book and publish it via Lulu or Amazon or similar. I’d buy a copy and read it whereas I have difficulty reading anything online except at full-speed data intake mode. I like books!

        • I like books, too. There is nothing satisfying about a computer screen.

          The crows? Hmmm. I wonder if I could work those crows into a book. Maybe that’s what I’ll work on next. Thanks for the suggestion and the encouragement, Dave.

  3. Always keep it simple. I learned that the hard way.

  4. Nicely done, you! You’re absolutely right. An agency wants you to be able to sum yourself up in a few short, strong sentences. It lets them know you can hit that mark if asked do to interviews as well. More, please!

    • What? Did you say interview? It took me 2 years to put my own face on my Facebook. The idea of talking with my own mouth to a real person and trying to sound smart without being able to pause and backspace and cut stuff out is utterly, well… I won’t say what it is, just in case “they” are reading this. But I feel a little sick.

      • Oh! Oh no! I was reaching way ahead of where you are right now. Right now you are sending gorgeously professional queries. Not to worry, AF! That’s a big “what if” even for published writers.

        (If you’re still feeling queasy, think about this: Should this come up, and it may not, you’ll do more radio than TV. Regardless of the medium, most interviews aren’t live, okay? Often they are taped well in advance, and edited and there are do-overs and everything. They aren’t investigating you— they’re there to write a lovely piece about a new book. Trust me on this one thing.)

      • I love that – not being able to pause and backspace!

  5. That Jenni girl sure is smart! I wonder if she widens her margins too? Congrats lady… you are on your way!!!

  6. I know nothing about this – I guess I haven’t slapped myself across the face enough yet. I think a third person bio is okay in a blog and if a journal asked for one, but I’m not certain if this is the way to go with a query. (But, as I say, I know nothing) I liked much of your original and would keep this:

    I taught high school English for ten years, then did the math and retired early. (5 classes =160 students @ 2 essays per month = 320 essays @ 4 pages each = 1300 pages per month + thoughtful and helpful comments x school year = impossible.) Now I live in Berkeley, CA where I write novels, short stories, poems, personal essays, and accounts of my attempts to befriend the neighborhood crows. I have had several stories published, both online and in print, most recently in ElevenEleven’s issue #12. I blog at

    Good luck!

  7. I think the short bio is looking good – any other print credits you could stick on there? That’s all you need! And Courtenay Bluebird is right – if you get through the initial vetting stage, you might have to have an interview with the agent – for the 1st one I attended I was grotesquely nervous. But it was a sign things weren’t going to work out. The second one clicked like a charm and she is now my agent, and a friend, too. You might meet the agent but it’s more likely to be a phone interview, particularly if you live far apart.

    Oh – thought of another thing for your query: pick up a book you love by a living author, particularly if you feel an affinity for his/her style. Look at the acknowledgments. Play spot the agent (with google help). Contact said agent. Say you loved X’s book in your query. You have to be honest about this, because just searching the back catelogue of said agent and picking a book to love will be counter-productive – you want the agent to have similar reading tastes to you!

    • Helen– since you actually worked a slush pile, I think you must be right. I am surprised how off kilter my own instincts must be on this (and lord knows what else) and I’m so grateful for your help.

      For my last novel I went to the bookshelf and pulled The Hours by Michael Cunningham (be still my heart) and sent it to so-and-so and I actually did get fairly along in the process with them– they read the whole thing and told me that it needed help and suggested the name of an editor. I paid that person what was, for me, an astronomical figure, but still didn’t quite pull it off. (Since then, I have a policy that I will not pay one penny towards having anything published.) I will add that agent’s name to my list although I feel rather bashful about it.

      Since then, my efforts at getting published have been half-hearted. ElevenEleven is the only “respectable” (or recognizable?) place I’ve been published.

      • I would be extremely wary of anyone who sends you in the direction of an editor who accepts payment for this sort of thing. I know it is done, but there are other agents who would never do this, and I think they have the ethical high ground. You are correct – the money is not supposed to come from you.

        Why be half hearted when you have enough heart to push this work of yours out there? Your writing is good, I think you could get excerpts published online. Have a hunt around – if you get accepted, mention that in a query, even if the piece hasn’t been published.

        As to instincts – I was the same when I first started out. It took working in the agency, speaking to agents, reading LOTS of stuff on agent/intern blogs online to get my query up to speed. The urge to be creative can work against us sometimes!

  8. ouch. but nice machete work there

  9. I can agree with the change from first person to third, but personally I loved the humor. I tire of author bios all sounding alike. So polished and so boring. If I saw a bio like your first example I’d read the book whether it was something I’d normally read or not. I remember picking up an Elizabeth Peters book once, and reading the numerous reviews on the back. Buried in them was one that said how awful the book was, how pretentious the author was, how the story wasn’t worth reading. The review was written by Barbara Michaels. Which, in case you don’t know, is Elizabeth Peters. I loved that. The inside joke, the humor. Original like your bio.

    • On this, I think the business-minded are diametrically opposed to the people who write without a thought to marketing. Sort of freaky that such divergent opinions are all part of one’s audience. Who matters more? The people who read the books or the people who sell the books? There’s the rub. At this stage, I’m courting the sellers. An I’m completely cognizant of how my own nature must warp to fit this different frame. If my book were ever actually printed, I would fight hard not to have this bloody little nub of a bio on the back page.

  10. I did like the first one better, but I am not a busy editor or agent fully immersed in the business world, am I?
    Sad but true. It does feel sometimes like you are not being true to yourself, but it’s about adapting to meet the needs of your audience. And then you can dazzle them with your book!

    • I liked it better too, Marina. I’d cut a few things out, but still. And of course, one has to wonder. If they don’t like the way you write a bio, how much would you wager they’d like your book?

  11. Aia

    i like the first one better, and always enjoy being right there with each creative thought! you make me giggle.
    xos from lourmarin,

  12. Good for you, Anna!!!! Very brave. I know when it’s time it’s time, but still. Tough to get those queries out there. Can’t wait to hear how it all goes. Good luck!!

  13. Hoping all is going well for you Anna.

  14. Pingback: I Hope You Get the Glad Hand Always - Steve's Comedy

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“The Greatest Exponent of Krishna Consciousness in the Western World”

“The Greatest Exponent of Krishna Consciousness in the Western World”

Dear Srila Prabhupada,

Please accept my humble obeisances. All Glories to you.

All Glories to You and only You for submerging this earth planet with the Glories of Lord Sri Krishna (The Holy Name).

All Glories to You and only You for being “The Greatest Exponent of Krishna Consciousness in the Western World.” It was You that came up with that phrase to be put under your pictures in all of your books. Somehow? That phrase had been removed from your books, but I have been assured it was going to immediately be put back under your picture in all of your books again.

The response I had received was that the BBT leaders had no idea that it was missing nor how it had happened. I think I know…… due to the imperfect senses there are those who have forgotten who you are, and therefore it was ignored. Yet those same imperfect senses allow your books to be ravaged with changes.

I pray they humble themselves to bring back the Original Books as they were perfect, are perfect and always will be perfect. A small grammatical change may occur, but what has been done appears to be major. Therefore since we are all so covered, they should have been just left alone.
All Glories to You and only You for being the “Greatest Exponent of Krishna Consciousness in the WHOLE World “as before you came into this world even India was forgetting who Krishna is and beginning to give up all religious principals. Most people were worshipping everyone but Lord Krishna. They had ignored Lord Krishna and it was………..

You and only You who re-established the Divine Pastimes of Lord Sri Krishna, the Origin of all Names, Forms, and Incarnations of Himself.
All Glories to You and only You for re-establishing the Glories of Vrindaban, so that now it is the center of attractions of all of India. And the first stop in Vrindaban for all pilgrims is the Sri Sri Krishna Balaram Mandir, that is giving mercy to all the fallen conditioned souls as they enter the Supreme Abode of Lord Sri Krishna and loudly chant the Holy Name by your unlimited mercy. When I had first arrived in 1973 it was a simple village with a handful of people coming. You are the culmination of the Mercy of all the Goswamis.

All Glories to You and only You for establishing the highest level of Deity worship on the planet, which has surpassed every Temple in the world.
All Glories to You and only You for teaching the whole world everything that they now know that they never would have known without your tender loving guidance. Whether they left and went to another Guru or became expert in Sanskrit or have translated books or have themselves become a Guru, would they have known one iota of anything without your Mercy?

Would they have even known what the word is, such as nitya-siddha, guru-tattva, Gauranga, without your advent to this world? Would they have known who is Narayana Maharaja, Sridhar Maharaja, or His Divine Grace Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Maharaja Srila Prabhupada without your mercy? Would they have known how to eat, worship, or breathe without your instruction?

Yet they so easily forget and minimize your position, and now think themselves to be great scholars and preachers and Gurus and Acharyas and Gurupadas and Vishnupadas and Acharyadevas.

All Glories to You and only You for going to the Bowery of New York. I have gone to your room with a devotee to take pictures years ago, and had to hold my nose to enter the environment due to the stench. What you have done for all of us we should hold our heads in shame if we forget for a second! We should hit our heads on the floor if we for one second let our egos take over to think we are capable of anything without your mercy. Any accomplishment we have made we should know it is You and only You!

All Glories to You and only You for the all the tireless evenings and days and mornings that you spent writing the books which to this day are perfect and complete and have not one iota of irregularity, since you have so clearly explained that it is Krishna who has written them and you were the Divine medium for their entrance into this world.

You yourself would read them and take pleasure in their beauty as a perfect incarnation of Sound that has been manifested for all of humanity for 10,000 years.

Who can say they are now unauthorized and should be changed, and edited and added to with inserted anecdotes? Who can say that even one letter should be changed? When mahaprasad is being offered to you even though it may not have enough salt or the potatoes are hard or it may need more sugar, who would go back and re-cook that which has already been offered?

Please Srila Prabhupada, try to help those who don’t know who you are to understand, because I fear for the reactions they will suffer for these great offenses and blasphemy. They are under the influence of Maya to think that Your Divine words should be changed as there is sufficient documentation left by You to show that they will remain as they are for 10,000 years.

Now a precedent has been set and more will feel the need to make changes and where will it stop? In a class you have stated the worshipable nature of your books and it would shock me to think that they are now “unauthorized”, and that the now revised and edited editions are the authorized editions because they have been edited by and modified by a conditioned living entity. It was your original books that changed my life. Is my life now unauthorized?

All Glories to You and only You for Spreading the Holy Name to every town and Village. We were walking in Nellore, AP, India on a morning walk. I heard a man who had visited the Gaudiya Math in Madras state that one Swami there had said that “if Chaitanya Mahaprabhu wanted to have the Holy Name spread to every town and village he would have done it himself!” You gloriously lifted your cane and in a powerful voice said,
“He has left it for me!”

What does that say about who You are? Who can make such a statement? Only you, because you can! I can only imagine your personal relationship with Lord Chaitanya. I have heard various statements made by you hinting at who you are.

But one thing I do know is you defy all human speculations on your position as to which one of the confidential associates of Lord Krishna and Sri Chaitanya Mahaprabhu you are, and I am the luckiest jivatma in the universe to have been initiated by you, and to have had even 1 second of your association. I don’t require anyone but you. You are my Living Guru as you have mentioned what is the question of Living Guru? Guru is eternal!!!!

You have written everything there is to read to attain the ultimate. There is no one but you to truly guide the planet for 10,000 years and All Glories to You and only You because without you, all the persons that think you are just a normal nitya-siddha or a self-realized soul would have been steeped in the depths of Maya, still reading the many thousands of books written by Mayavadis and Bogus Gurus without your mercy. They fail to understand how pervasive your mercy is, because they fail to understand you.

All Glories to You and only You because we can search into the depths of history and not find the achievements of anyone that has accomplished what you have done for the planet to guide the living entities back to Godhead. It is an achievement that has been prophesied for thousands of years, and yet there are those that still wish to deride your position and play with words.

It will not matter because far beyond my life on this planet, you and all the eternal confidential associates of the Supreme Lord have a plan and you are the architects and orchestrators of the Golden Age, and no matter what I do I cannot change that. So therefore allow me to be a puppet on strings for your pleasure and if there is anything you want me to do for your pleasure, please instruct me, as you have done the last few mornings between 1 and 4 am. Because I know that what I have written is again coming from your Divine hand and you are and always will be my Living Guru.
All Glories to You and only You………….

Because it is You and only You that have given me the opportunity to know anything!

Your Servant,
Sravanananda das (HDGACBSP)

Please forgive me if I offend any devotee as it is not my intention. We all know there are many exalted Vaishnavas. But in a short time the one Most exalted Vaishnava, Shaktyavesha Avatar that has changed the whole world has been minimized and it is our duty as Srila Prabhupada followers to know who he is and not allow anyone to consciously, in the name of Preaching under the banner of Hare Krishna (to which Srila Prabhupada is directly responsible for this service to humanity), minimize him or try to change anything he has taught us.

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108 Imporant Slokas from the 1972 Bhagavad-gita As It Is

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The Art of Hygge…

I spent a cosy afternoon reading The Art of Hygge – How to Bring Danish Cosiness into your Life by Jonny Jackson & Elias Larsen. It’s definitely a cosy little read.

The images used throughout the book really conjure up a feeling of cosiness and shows that contentment really comes from the simple things and that those alone, can bring us the greatest of pleasures.image

The book itself is split into 6 chapters, topics include natural light, soft furnishings, fires, setting the table and candles. Craft projects include lavender bags, felt slippers, pom-pom’s, mug cosies and fairy light lanterns and much more besides.

The things needed for Hygge include candlelight, cosy blankets, a day spent in the wilds, log pile, hot chocolate and someone to share it with.

My favourite chapter was chapter four – Comforting recipes for cosy nights in. The mouth-watering treats include Iced Vanilla Cookies, Cinnamon Hot Chocolate, Roasted Chestnuts, Berry Jam, Gingerbread House, Fruit Crumble, Hot Spiced Fruit Punch, Mulled Wine, Mulled Cider, butternut Squash Soup, Popcorn, Chocolate Fondue, and Spiced Banana Bread.

This book isn’t as good as The Little Book of Hygge by Meik Wiking, but I am pleased I purchased it nonetheless, as I do pick it up every now and then.

The Little Book of Hygge…

The Little Book of Hygge – The Danish Way to Living Well by Meik Wiking is one of the best books on Hygge on the market. Meik Wiking’s book is beautifully written, the pictures inside conjure up a feeling of cosiness, calm and contentment. Meik Wiking is the perfect man to write about the topic of Hygge as he works for The Happiness Institute in Copenhagen.image

The book isn’t just about interiors or what makes the Danes the happiest country on the planet, it features a lot more than that. It explains how ‘Hygge’ isn’t just about candles. It’s about spending time with friends and family and making the most of the time you spend together. You can ‘Hygge’ in all seasons and weather.

I’m looking forward to making the recipes in the book and making every moment I spend with family and friends more hyggelig.

If you wanted to purchase just one book on ‘Hygge’ you can’t go wrong with this one. This is a re-read for me and I score it 5/5. It’s excellent.

Liz Earle Wellbeing Autumn 2016…

Liz Earle Wellbeing Magazine is a quarterly magazine that comes out just as the new season approaches.

The magazine features various topics on natural health, beauty,  fashion, food, drink, home, and garden.image

Freebies and competitions included in this issue are a limited edition print by Marta Spendowska which you can cut out and frame, a free 15ml pot of Superskin moisturiser, all you need to do is tear out the page and take it into any participating John Lewis or Boots store and you also get a complimentary skin analysis. There is also the chance to win a leather Boden bag worth £199.

The magazine features joining a hobby club whether it be bread making, sewing, knitting or something else you’re interested in. Eating the season, pickling, drying hydrangeas and the olive harvest from the homestead of Liz’s family.

imageSomething else I didn’t like to see in the magazine were adverts for Harley St London – laser treatment clinic, Thomas Sabo jewellery and 7th Heaven beauty treatment sachets. These adverts are found in other publications and I’d rather see unique things advertise in the Liz Earle Wellbeing magazine that would tie in with the wellbeing side of the magazine.

I don’t think I will be purchasing Liz Earle Wellbeing magazine again as the recipes are not something I would make and I prefer magazines like Breathe and The Simple Things, which also feature articles on wellbeing and health.

The White Cottage Mystery – Margery Allingham…

Whilst in Waterstones last week, I was looking at the crime section with no book in mind. The title The White Cottage Mystery by Margery Allingham caught my eye. Having read the back of the book, and seeing Agatha Christie and PD James, two literary greats in the crime genre endorse her writing style, I thought I’d purchase it.image

For the past week I’ve been reading this novella. The book was originally written in 1927 as a mini series for the Express newspaper. I have enjoyed this story immensely and would definitely re-read it, as well as recommending it to anybody who loves cosy mysteries.

Without divulging too much of the plot, Eric Crowther holds a secret of everyone who lived at White Cottage, which he held over them as a ransom. This puts everyone under the suspicion of murder. When the truth is finally realised and the real killer revealed, it is very surprising and unexpected.

I would rate The White Cottage Mystery 4 out of 5. I’ll definitely be buying more of Margery Allingham’s books in the future.


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Ten things you may not have known about living in Dublin:

1) Traffic is slow, clogged, and awful, but it’s not scary in the sense of NYC-traffic-scary. In fact, drivers here tend to be more courteous than the average American driver (and definitely more courteous than the average Canadian driver. Sorry if that offends any Canadians (but it’s true; even Gabriel admits it).). But the streets and roads were built for a horse-and-carriage society, and there just doesn’t seem to be room for expansion. Rush hour is a terrible time to drive anywhere. Once it took me an hour to drive seven kilometers. Ridiculous! The positive side, of course, is the courtesy. You can pull out in front of someone and it’s okay as long as you wave at them or put on your four-ways to say thanks. 🙂

2) The city water is free.

3) Dublin has some really, really nice parks. Just across the road from us is a beautiful one with a river, a walled-in garden, walking paths, and a museum. All free. Bronwyn and I like to go over there and just wander around. We’re also within a few kilometers of two other nice parks, both of which have great playgrounds for little tots and big kids.

4) There are three maternity hospitals in Dublin, all dedicated solely to the care of women and infants. I could write a lot more about the prenatal care here, and I plan to do that soon.

5) Just a ten-minute drive from our house is the largest shopping centre in the country. It has over eighteen acres of floor space and some of the narrowest parking spaces I’ve ever seen (just ask Mom how I managed an eleven-point turn while trying to park there one day when she was along).

6) Traffic again: streets are so, so poorly marked. About a year after we were here, Gabriel got a free phone with a package deal from a mobile phone company, and the phone has a GPS with downloadable maps. That has been invaluable to us SO many times; it would be such a pain to drive in Dublin without it. I really don’t know how anyone drives in Dublin without a GPS unless they grew up here and know all the streets and roads by memory.

7) It’s a windy city, probably because it’s so close to the coast. Gabriel checks the forecast and groans when he sees high wind predicted because it makes his cycle ride to school even worse than normal. (No, he doesn’t like cycling to school, but he does it for the health benefits and because it saves money, and because (traffic again!) it’s easier than fighting traffic.)

8) Homeowners paint their doors whatever color they feel like painting them.

9) Dublin is essentially a collection of villages that grew together. That’s why part of our address is “Rathfarnham, Dublin 16.” Each “village” usually has a parish centre/Catholic church, a bank, a butcher, a few shops, a druggist, a GP’s office, and if you’re lucky, a public library. And OF COURSE a pub.

10) The buses are double-decker. Riding on the top of a double-decker bus is one of the best ways to see the city.

Here is one reason you (we) aren’t hearing much from Gabriel on this blog lately:

This is his schedule for next week. Now, it might look manageable until you consider that for every hour spent in class he should spend two or three out of class doing homework. We’ve quit saying “maybe next semester will be easier” and changed our mantra to “in so-and-so many months we’ll be done.”

I was telling him my brilliant idea for holiday cards this year, and he wondered if he’d be put through the torture of participating in a family photo shoot. He thought maybe I could Photoshop him into a picture of our family. I said I could do better than that; we could put his picture in an oval in the corner of the photo like they do for deceased family members. Underneath it we could print, “Gabriel Jantzi, dearly beloved husband and father. We look forward to reuniting with you in about 20 months when you’re done with that ding-dang-dong vet school.”

*** *** ***

Baby is due in a week and a half, more or less. My family doctor assured me yesterday that I’ll go into labour today “at 4:00, and it’ll all be over by tea time.” He was joking, of course, but I’m pleading with this baby not to take TOO long to come out, because if it does, Mama will go OFF HER HEAD.

*** *** ***

Last night from about 11:30 to 1:00 we listened to the neighbor’s adult son as he sat in front of their outdoor fireplace, listened to loud Christmas and country music, drank beer, and shouted randomly into the fire. (I got the giggles when “Country Roads, Take Me Home” came on. Does anyone else who worked at Yoder’s Restaurant remember Moose belting that out on his gittar?)

“Is he retarded?” Gabriel wondered. “Why would you drink yourself stupid all alone on a Friday night? How could be any fun?”

I suppose someone else might look at the schedule above  and wonder how that could be any fun, too. These are the mysteries we ponder at midnight.

I have a wonderful supervisor at work. One of the things I like about Aisling is the way she saves me from myself. Last week I made some remark that somehow remotely implied that this Canadian didn’t know about the June Bank Holiday. Aisling picked up on it and warned me not to come in to work today.  (The first Monday in June is a public holiday.)

A few days ago I was chatting with a coworker, and during the course of the conversation, I mentioned that had my supervisor not reminded me about the upcoming bank holiday, well, I would have come to work that day.

“Well,” my coworker commented, “that’s dedication.”

“No,” I said, thinking about having a lie in (sleeping in), “that’s stupidity [or ignorance; I forget exactly what I said].”

We laughed together.  You see, there we were in the vet school, amidst all the students spending precious years of their lives, chuckling at silly people who can’t see the difference between dedication and stupidity.

We were laughing at ourselves.

~ 09250671

Back in the first week of February, Bronwyn had to get a BCG (Bacillus Calmette-Guérin—I don’t know what that means, but it’s a tuberculosis vaccine) vaccination. I didn’t know TB vaccinations were still given in this day and age, but apparently Ireland has seen a rise in TB with the recent influx of immigrants from Eastern European countries and other countries where TB is still a threat.

Anyway, ever since getting the vaccination, Bronwyn has had a hard red lump on her arm where she got the needle. I figured it would go away after a few weeks, but instead it got larger. I was a little worried, but other moms assured me it was normal. Eventually there was a hard lump under her skin, about the size of a U.S. nickel in diameter. Two nights ago I was putting her in the tub when I noticed a thin papery scab that was starting to peel away from the lump. I peeled it off and this is what happened:

It drained at least four times this much. It was like the mother of all pimples.

It doesn’t seem to bother her much otherwise.

Now, to offset the gross factor of the first two pictures, here are some cuter ones.

Apparently Mom with a camera is hilarious.

Happy Wednesday!

I’m currently reading Madame Doubtfire, the plot of which is set in England. One of the chapters tells of a shopping trip and perfectly describes the frustrations of finding what you need in Britain or, in my case, Ireland. Here, Daniel and his small daughter are on a search for a pair of dungarees—“hardy, machine-washable, room for growth, and NOT WHITE.”

Thinking about it afterwards, Daniel could not for the life of him work out where those two whole hours went. Admittedly, they went to several shops. The first had no dungarees at all, the second only white ones. The third had dungarees in red and blue and apple green, but they were labelled Caution: wash separately, so Daniel, remembering Miranda’s firm specifications, was forced to prise a wistful and somewhat resentful Natalie away. The fourth shop had machine-washable dungarees in grey, but not in Natalie’s size. The fifth had four pairs of dungarees in Natalie’s size, but none of them fitted. Nor did those labelled with the size above, nor the size above that.

‘They pinch,’ Natalie grumbled, pulling irritably at the crotch. ‘They’re too tight here. They hurt.’

‘Have you tried Notweeds?’ asked the saleslady, coldly.

So they tried Notweeds . . . as the glass doors swung open, the shop-girls sprang to life.

‘We’re closing now,’ they chanted in unison. The braver of the two laid her hand on the sleeve of Madame Doubtfire’s cardigan, to shoo her out.

Daniel was irritated. Drawing himself up to full height, he towered over the girl, and thundered, ‘Young lady, the notice affixed to that door says plainly that you close at half-past five.’

‘It’s practically that now,’ the girl argued.

‘There are still seven minutes left.’

‘That isn’t really long enough to try anything for size.’

‘Then we shall look.’

…Natalie practically had to be dragged between the racks of clothes. She trailed her feet along the floor so stubbornly, she left tracks even on the hardy shop carpet. She was horribly fractious, complaining loudly and bitterly: her feet were hurting; her legs ached; she wanted to go home; she was missing Blue Peter; she didn’t even like dungarees.

‘We don’t stock them anyway,’ crowed the shop-girl.

And that, dear reader, is why I sometimes wholeheartedly long for Walmart. (I’ll admit that other times I’m smitten with the charm of these shops—it’s just when I can’t find something I really do need that it’s frustrating.)

I haven’t found anything useful to us on Freecycle lately, but there have been some entertaining “Wanted” ads.

Wanted: Damaged or otherwise unusable or substandard coffin. Preferably not used.

Wanted: wanted Mac computer. Hello My computer just died so wondering if anybody has a mac computer that they no longer need. thanks coco

Wanted: bus wanted as home. Hi everyone,I am looking for an old preferably double decker bus to convert as mobile home,drivable diesal but will convert to cooking oil.No distance a problem.Or will consider a smaller van converted or fo conversion.

I can’t decide if these deserve an eye-roll (“surely you jest”) or applause for never giving up hope (“Someday my double-decker bus will come!”).

scratching my head,

This morning I made something for the first time ever: steel cut oats. I got the recipe from my friend Thelma, and you can skip over to her blog if you want to see pretty pictures of the oatmeal, yet. Let me just say that this is better—way better—than regular oatmeal, amen. Here is Thelma’s recipe in case you’d like to try them too (you would).

3 C. water
1 C. milk
1 T. butter
1 C. steel cut (*aka pinhead, aka Irish) oats
1/4 t. salt
Bring milk and water to a simmer in a large saucepan. Meanwhile, heat the butter in a skillet until foamy, then add the oats. Toast, stirring constantly, until golden and fragrant with a butterscotch-like aroma (1-2 minutes). Add to the simmering liquid, turn the heat to medium low, and simmer for about 20 minutes or until the mixture thickens and resembles gravy. Add the salt, stirring with a wooden spoon handle, and continue to simmer, stirring occasionally, for another 7-10 minutes until all the liquid is absorbed.

Add a drizzle of maple syrup and YUM. This makes a big batch, which is actually nice because they take about 45 minutes to make and apparently reheat very well. Thelma also says it’s important to follow the recipe instructions as to timing, even when you add the salt.

I just have to say…sometimes you grow up and realize your parents were right about things. Like my mom has been informed about health and nutrition for most of my life and I had next to zero interest in it until suddenly it’s hip to be healthy and now I realize my mom was about fifteen years ahead of her time. When we were home over the holidays, guess what I found in her fridge. Yep, steel-cut oats.

So go try ’em!

*When I went to the health food store yesterday for these oats, I could only find pinhead oats. I asked the salesladies about steel-cut oats but they had no idea what I meant. (Frustrating culture shock moment…which I should be used to by now!) I came home and looked it up online, and apparently steel-cut oats, pinhead oats, and Irish oats are all one and the same.

We spent Christmas Eve at Ken and Linda’s house. They had oodles of people over and it was so much fun. Deborah had the use of my camera that night and most of these pictures were taken by her (as you can tell, she actually knows how to use it…unlike yours truly).

I love their house. It’s been renovated from an old barn on the church property that used to be the mission’s workshop. The house is long and narrow but snug and absolutely dripping with character.

Is this not a cozy sitting room? I think Victoria has found the perfect place for reading.

So has Abigail.

The place soon started filling up with people. The Millers invited over forty people, and even though not everyone came, it was a full house.

Bronwyn loved this little rocking chair.

We were all supposed to bring appetizers…mmm.

Dani and baby Sarah.

We played a hilarious game that involved unwrapping a present and following whatever instructions were written inside. Here Jeanette is trying to draw a picture on her head.

Linda and Vadym had to work together to wrap a present using only one hand each. (And that scarf I’m wearing was knit by my 11-year-old niece, Callie.)

What warm fuzzies this is giving me…there’s something about being away from extended family over the holidays that makes me even more grateful for the bonds of this church family.

This is his “done with exams” face. As of today, the worst semester of his entire life is history, and that ROCKS.

Also, three years ago today, this happened:

Awww. We look so young … and happy … and naive. 😛 I loved those newlywed days, but I love these happily-married-for-years days even better.

We just got eight inches of snow in the last 24 hours. I’m starting not to believe people who claim that Ireland has mild winters.

EDIT: Gabriel thought I should add that I ran a 70’s action on that first photo, meaning I made it look like a photo from the 1970s. I like it, but he isn’t so sure.

As indicated in a previous post, I sometimes cycle to school.  As Phil H. knows, I don’t like cycling to school.  Many are the fair mornings when I mentally compose another chapter for my very own latest novel, A Cyclist’s Guide to South Dublin.  (That was a lie.  “Many are the gloomy mornings…” would be more appropriate.)  I won’t be publishing that book for two reasons: my mother told me that I may never do anything in public that would embarrass her, and knowing how many people there are out there that look up to me, I wouldn’t want to lead them astray.  I never want to be the kind of hero that unwittingly inspires some beautiful child to take up cycling.

But this morning’s ride had its perks.  I was stopped at a light when I noticed a, uh, slightly overweight lady with many shopping bags dangling off each arm puff up to the pedestrian crosswalk.  She reached out and jabbed at the light changing button thingie.  The pedestrian crosswalk light didn’t change.  She persisted.  Ah, but I like to see spirit in these worldly-wise individuals, jaded as they may be by the advancing years.  The Shopping Bag lady shifted her load and jabbed again.  And again.  I counted.  The button pinged six times.  That ignorant pedestrian crosswalk light still didn’t change.  I waited until she was comfortably ensconced back in her folds.  “Nah,” I said, “you should probably do it a few more times.”

To be sure, to be sure, she had great presence of mind.  She didn’t jump.  I had a green light, so it was time to go.  The look she gave me, though, buoyed my spirits the entire length of Highfield Road.

Our Pharmacology professor is full of quotables.  For example, once he was talking about the undeniably sad effects of certain bugs on the gastrointestinal tract, and the resulting attempts of the body to rapidly rid itself of that bug.  In the picturesque vernacular, the results are known as “pipestem.”  The professor referred to it as “exquisitely spectacular… reminds you of bad curry.”  While expounding today on some random and quite unimportant point, he noticed that all we robots were writing away furiously… and felt pity for us.  No need to take notes on that point, he said.  “That’s a completely useless bit of information, only good to drop at a Saturday night curry party.”

Apparently he doesn’t like curry.

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Often the loneliest people will find doubt as some means of comfort. Doubt connects us to others who remind us of our insecurities. We are able to, though only within our minds, reach ‘beings’ and communicate with them through our feelings. However, this is never enough to satisfy the need for real human interaction. If our thoughts could speak for themselves and if anyone would listen to our words, we could say things that no-one thinks of. Our inspiration stems from the innocent, ordinary objects that your own eyes see but never delve any further into their connection with the world around them.

Lonely people suffer confusion, we are alienated sometimes by our own thoughts. But when the time for euphoria begins, there is never a greater sensation. Almost as if we are gliding through the star-lit black sky, looking down on the world below, but it is always…always within our own mind.

The lonely ones are the careless ones. We are hurled to the deep end of the pool and so we fend for ourselves knowing that we owe nothing to no-one. Our loyalty only stretches as far as our compassion which for some is generous and for others as dry as a desert.

The beauty of the lonely ones are that we are the silent few who have the potential to call themselves the greater thinkers of the generation; pondering over the undiscovered creations, inventing concepts and theories that differ from the contemporary solutions adopted today that lack fruitful substance and are as lacklustre as an empty sheet of paper. However, to live it we must suffer it; praising the quotes of our ancestors and asking for guidance from God above.

What we say is sometimes deemed heretical, crazy, obscene…unpopular. But we are without hesitation the lonely ones.


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5 Beauty Tips I Swear By

by - July 14, 2017

5 Beauty Tips I Swear By asian korean kbeauty tricks secret

Hello all~!

It has been a very much busy semester for me in college, I can't find the motivation to blog much! However my Instagram is very much more active as I've started to take an interest in snapping photos of beauty products!

Anyways, for today's post I will be sharing 5 beauty tips I swear by. There are always so many tips and tricks to the perfect, beautiful face all around the internet but seriously, are all those tips really necessary? Some are amazing and simple, I've learnt quite from them but some are just too complex and being a lazy person- like me, I tend to ignore them.

These 5 beauty tips that I'll be sharing are very simple and it's perfect for lazy people like me- or even those that are taking their first step into the world of beauty! They are simple, cheap and does not take too much of your time.

Let's get started!

1. Double cleansing

Wait, what-? Girl, are you crazy? No. For a bright and glowing face, it all starts from your skin care. No amount of makeup or cosmetic can help to achieve a naturally clean and glowy look on your face. Cleansing is the most important part of your skin care. The dirt and sebum has been on your face for an entire day and you must wash those off.

I always start by cleaning off my mascara and lip tint using oil cleansers. Get those stubborn things off! Oil cleansers are great but remember that they could be pore clogging hence I don't use them on my entire face.

The next step is to use a cream cleanser on my entire face. Cream cleansers are basically less oily than oil cleansers but they remove makeup really well.

Lastly, I use a foam cleanser on my entire face. The foam cleanser helps to cleanse my pores and wash off  the excess oil or sebum that's still on my face.

Yes, it may take some time especially when you're dead tired from a day out but your skin will thank you for that extra cleansing you did.

2. Two-step skincare

Have you ever experience days where you're just too lazy to go on a full 7-step or 10-step skincare routine? I've been diligently doing my two-step skincare every day and they prove the same results to me as a 7 or 10-step skin care. So, what's in a two-step skincare routine?

Toner and moisturizer. Always apply your toner and moisturizer after you wash your face. I do it two times a day.

3. Apply Aloe Vera gel on pimples or acne

If you're not a person who has pimple/acne problems but once in a while you get a huge red zit on your face, use Aloe Vera gel! Aloe Vera gel has many benefits and I use them on my pimples (when I have them)

They are not harsh on the skin and helps to reduce the redness and get rid of the pimple.

4. Avoid instant noodles a night before your big day!

If you have a date or some special occasion tomorrow, avoid instant noodles the day or two before! As instant noodles are high in sodium, eating these food the night before can make your face and eyes look bloated the next day.

Honestly, I am a person who LOVES instant noodles and I didn't believe in this nonsense one bit until the day I found out that, it actually is true! I had a date the next day and my entire face looked bloated that no amount of makeup or magic can get rid of it immediately.

5. When in doubt, go red.

Red is a very classic color and it will almost never go wrong. When you have your eye makeup done but you're unsure what color to suit your lips, go for shades of red. A nice red lip complements any makeup or color you have on your face. If you're a pale person, a tinge of red on your lips will make you look healthier however if you're a much tanner person, some colors may not look that great on your lips so go for red!

I always have red lip tints with me. I can have any kind of makeup look or color on my face but my lips are always shades of red.

Here are the 5 beauty tips I swear by.

Do you have any beauty tips you'd love to share? What are they?

You May Also Like

  1. Haha this is lovely
    Now I have an insight of the process needed for makeup 😉

  2. Useful tips! I love apply aloe gel on my pimples too. In fact, I use aloe gel for everything - dry skin, irritated skin sunburn. I just love it.

    1. yes! me too! it's like the all-in-one product!

  3. Great post!

  4. this post is amazing :)

  5. Well, recently I also do double cleansing and the result on my face is awesome! I rarely get any breakout and makes my skin smoother :) Oh, I also often spray my face with face mist, especially before bed, and it keeps my face stay hydrated, love it!

    1. ooh! i never thought of spraying facial mist before bed! should give it a try soon~

Leave a sweet comment


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Archive for Combat Basketball

Dumars Ignores The Mitten: Says “No” to Combat Basketball

Posted in Sports with tags , , , on July 8, 2009 by Quinn Strassel

No Laimbeer 9

It appears Joe Dumars has hired somebody other than Bill Laimbeer as Pistons head coach.  Though this is undoubtedly a good basketball decision (given Dumars’ overall track record), it exponentially decreases the likelihood the NBA will become a league where players wear armor and punch each other while fans throw fireballs at them.

I guess I’ll just have to watch this video and lament what might’ve been:

Continue reading

The Time for Combat Basketball Has Come: An Open Letter to Joe Dumars

Posted in Interesting People, Sports with tags , , , , , , , , on July 1, 2009 by Quinn Strassel

“Dear Joe,

There’s no denying you got off to a great start as the Detroit Pistons President of Basketball Operations.  Your swift ascent from ex-athlete to sports exec god was, well, messianic.  No, you never turned water into wine, but you did trade a perpetually injured Grant Hill for the unheralded duo of Ben Wallace and Chucky Atkins (who you eventually traded for Rasheed Wallace). Pretty close.  You assembled a team of scrappers (dare I say, “in your image”) and led them to the promised land.  For this, I will always be grateful.

But in recent years, you’ve fallen on hard times and yesterday you fired head coach Michael Curry.  I’ll let others debate the merits of that decision.  The reason I am writing you now is to tell you that your next decision should not be up for debate.

You must hire Bill Laimbeer.

I know what you’re thinking.  “Hire Laimbeer?  My whining, flopping ex-teammate whose only coaching experience is with a women’s team?!”

Continue reading


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Using the Internet For Good

Anyone will agree that the Internet is an incredible tool. You can literally find anything on the World Wide Web. However, there is a battle raging in this cyber world, a battle between good and evil.

Though it seems the negative side of the Internet has the momentum these days, there is plenty of good to be found on the Internet.

What is the Good?

Defining what is good can prove to be difficult depending on who you’re asking. Here are a couple of guidelines I choose to follow:

“We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men; indeed, we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul—We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.” -13th Article of Faith

“But behold, that which is of God inviteth and enticeth to do good continually; wherefore, every thing which inviteth and enticeth to do good, and to love God, and to serve him, is inspired of God.” –Moroni 7:13 (Book of Mormon)

The Internet is a powerful tool. A negative article can really damage an individual, group, or nation. However, a positive article can uplift the world.

Shouldn’t we ignore our differences and just seek to make this world a more positive place? There is not a more powerful tool than the Internet for such a task.

Give it a try. Upload more good. Be positive, both online and in person. Seek to uplift instead of degrade. Share good news. Love.

Our life consists of two worlds today – an earthly world, and an online world. Lets make the whole of both of them “good” and win the battle.

Please feel free to comment!

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Graphic Interface

image by imp kerr

New Inquiry editor Samantha Garcia sat down with media theorist Douglas Rushkoff in the green room of Engadget TV for a discussion that ranged from Occupy Wall Street to his new graphic novel, A.D.D., about a team of speed-addled young gamers. Rushkoff’s recent books include Program or be Programmed: Ten Commands for a Digital age and Life, Inc.: How the World Became a Corporation and How to Take It Back.

Samantha Garcia: We first met in Zuccotti Park in early November 2011.

Douglas Rushkoff: Oh right, remember? Back in the good old days of protest and revolutionary action.

SG: Of imminent utopia. Since then, we’ve had the Bloomberg eviction, SocialMediaWeek, SxSW — and even an array of seismic sociopolitical events outside the first world. What has life been like for you since then?

DR: Well, around Zuccotti time I was just starting on this book, Present Shock, that’s going to come out in — God knows when. Eight years. The book looks at “presentism”: the idea that we went from being a forward-leaning culture at the end of the 20th century, to a present-based culture now. It’s funny. That talk you and I had after Zuccotti about the letdown of Obama after all that had built up and that Zuccotti and Occupy were almost that campaign, but without him. It’s almost that such a campaign cannot happen around a person. It can only happen in an organic, networked total organism without individual leaders — this leader-ful movement, where everyone has moments of leadership and aspects of leadership. And I’m trying to focus on the possibilities for this kind of organization, this approach to life actually being able to address or mitigate some of the challenges that we’re facing as people now.

On the one hand, I have this optimistic view that we can educate ourselves into something better. But on the other hand — and this is what A.D.D. is about — in some ways, that feels like a retreat. The comic is about these kids who are seeing through the way things are, but that act of seeing is almost an Asperger’s or autism. Seeing pushes them into loneliness and despair. They withdraw.

SG: I want to talk about Adderall specifically, because in A.D.D., amphetamine use is subsumed in the narrative. It’s just another performance enhancer in this universe you’ve created. What’s more apparent in the narrative is the autism spectrum. Are you concerned about the empathic capacity of the future?

DR: I’m what they call a media ecologist, so I believe in media environments — both explicit ones and implicit ones. So it’s like the lightbulb is a media environment, right? You turn on the lightbulb, and you have a different environment because of that medium. But print is a media environment that encourages certain ways of looking at the world. Television changes us. Internet is a media environment. Somehow our media environment, combined with our economic environment, can really amplify one another’s effects in dangerous ways.

Way back in the mid-1990s — when Wired announced that we’re living in an attention economy, when everyone came up with these metrics to measure eyeball hours and the “stickiness” of websites — there was this competition to get our attention. Parallel to that is the sudden emergence of all these attention disorders and new prescriptions for Ritalin. So I’m thinking, we’re living in an attention economy, in which it’s been declared by Wall Street that the one commodity we’ve got to extend in order to make more money is human attention. And then we start drugging our children to pay more attention. I can’t help but worry. Not that there’s a specific conspiracy — Oh, let’s drug the children so they pay more attention — but rather, we’re living in a world where the brunt of our technological know-how is being spent on maintaining attention. Kids start to show these defense mechanisms against paying attention.

That’s why I did this in fiction rather than nonfiction, because, if nothing else, this is a really interesting metaphor for something that feels strange, unresolved, and of concern.

SG: Amphetamines, to me — beyond my anthropological interest as a former Southerner — are the classic capitalist drug, because they mute empathy and spur productivity. I even read that Ayn Rand was doped up on speed when she was finishing her draft of The Fountainhead.

DR: Wow! Right around when they were giving Judy Garland speed so she would be in all those movies.

SG: Exactly. I thought that was really funny. So drugs that were conditioned for long-haul truckers and people who work in factories are now fueling the next generation of knowledge workers. Do you think the current normative Internet is possible without speed?

DR: Yeah. You can either pace to the Net, or you can make the Net pace to you. That’s what my book Program or Be Programmed (2010) is about. People don’t realize that digital technology is asynchronous. The program will wait for you! There’s this four-hour-work-week, zero-inbox philosophy. People I respect talk about that “clean feeling” of getting down to the bottom of your inbox. But the mistake I think they’re making is that there’s two kinds of media: flow media, like Twitter, and storage media, like a book. You can finish a book, but you can’t finish your Twitter in-feed. It’s a stream. You don’t get pond scum on a stream. You don’t get culture. You don’t build. You need stillness. Look at New York. New York is built to promote flow on a grid pattern because it’s a city about money. You have Central Park, which is rounded to impede flow, so you can stop and breathe.

I’m lucky that I’m a speedy person in general, so I can keep up online. Sometimes, if you throw an altered state onto your creative process, you see something from a new angle. But to do some speed in order to get your friggin’ inbox in order … no. It’s the assembly line.

SG: I’ll never forget the day that I realized that everyone around me was on a performance-enhancing drug.

DR: I know. And then you feel like you’re missing something, or that you’ll fall behind. Like in the old days, the reason we had the blue laws, to not work on Sabbath, was because you couldn’t take Sabbath off if other people weren’t taking it off. Then your competitor would get ahead, because he’s working on the day you want to take off. So now the question is that if all the other stockbrokers are taking speed and you’re not, are you at a disadvantage? Yes, you are, if you’re competing in exactly the same area. They’ll burn out and die, and some other kid will replace them on a different speed. You’re still fucked. But if you can say, okay, what abilities do I have as a non-amphetamine-taking person? What can I do? I can see the big picture. I can make certain logical assumptions. I’m capable of contemplation and certain deep thought. In a world like that, with me as an obvious beyond-leftie whatever I am — I make [Noam] Chomsky look like a capitalist at this point, because he belongs to a university — I’m as out there as can be. But I’m getting calls from millionaire corporate CEOs in Europe asking me to come help them understand what their conglomerate does, what value they can create for people and the world. They wouldn’t be turning to Rushkoff-as-speed-freak for that.

SG: Your critiques of market psychology often center on stories of individuals who, against their better nature, atomize for the sake of perceived gain. A.D.D. takes this angle, and then adds a boasting adolescent-male psychology. Honestly, I hope this book is first in a wave of gamification takedowns. A.D.D. illustrates its shadow side: passive consumption paired with mindless competition. The world of Foursquare mayors.

DR: I feel bad because he’s a friend of mine and former student.

SG: I’m influenced by people like Linda Huber, who blogs under “puella ludens” about the importance of active, profitless play in so-called interactive media. Is A.D.D. a comment on gamification?

DR: Not specifically. I hate gamification. Gamification is to play what crowdsourcing is to open source. How can we take this natural, cultural drive toward connection, meaning, purpose, and participation and incorporate it into the economic-growth requirement of corporate capitalism? Foursquare is the easiest example, but everybody’s doing it. I’m sure there are folks at Merrill Lynch gamifying their stock portfolios.

SG: It’s so insidious, obviously, because of the childlike wonder being removed. In A.D.D. you have badges, and everything becomes empty one-upmanship.

DR: The main character becomes the squad’s lead boy, and lead boy is what? You’re in charge of a cafeteria table.

SG: You’re the avatar of an übermensch. Congratulations.

DR: Yeah. Gamification is what American Idol did to music. I know I sound so old, but where I came from, if you even fucking tried out for something like American Idol, it would mean that you were so over.

SG: Super lame! [Both laugh] You can’t game the game.

DR: Can you imagine John Lennon or Bob Dylan trying out for that?

SG: The gender dynamic in A.D.D. is reminiscent of East Asian gaming culture. You create a brutal world of homosocial competition, where sex-selective abortion is basically just a team-management technique. What inspired you to create the character of Kasinda, the one young female gaming star?

DR: In the series version, there was going to be a girl’s side. The boy’s side was going to be all the testing for games, sci-fi and violence. The girl’s side would have all these social-media chicks with Flickr and texting. Kasinda was going to be the girl out of place on the girl’s side. I wanted to keep her, so I came up with the idea that she was this mistake. I wanted to create this Never Let Me Go sexual thing, an inability for people to connect on the physical level. It made it so triply incest-y for him to be the child of both his brother and his mother and to be in love with his half-sister. It was all just so Greek. And the whole idea of the seer is so Oedipal.

SG: I’d still like to see the female affective-labor version, with tweeting chicks and narrative video games.

DR: Yeah, we’d call it D.D.A.

SG: The current issue of The New Inquiry magazine is called “Arguing the Web.” You have written extensively on a cultural transition from the gilded age of online consortia — characterized by a sort of Hyde-ian gift economy — to the petty sniping that goes on now, whether behind avatars or in swarms. Do you think we should bring civic debate back into the flesh-and-blood commons? Is it possible at this point?

DR: It is possible. It’s part of the promise of Occupy. People are occupying their reality and their body. Extreme sports and Burning Man and tattoos and piercings were early reactions to the disembodied, nonempathic Web world. I feel like Occupy and localism are the second, more mature versions of that. That’s why I moved out of the city. I wanted to be in a community. The book I’m doing right now is the last I’m doing in a long time, because I don’t want to be on the machine anymore. I don’t know how many more years I have left or how many more the world has left. I want to be in it. I just heard some woman talking about her kid who could do anything, and decided to make furniture for a job. His grandparents were upset because to them it was a dirty profession. He wanted to do something with his hands.

SG: That’s very typical of my generation. I just heard about a magazine called Kinfolk, which celebrates sitting down to dinner with your friends. Handcraft and social rituals have to be cultural movements now, because these can’t be the status quo.

DR: At least that’s something.

SG: One of your commands for online conduct is to “Be yourself.” What separates your vision of online transparency from corporatist radical-transparency advocates like Mark Zuckerberg?

DR: Well, Mark Zuckerberg is there to profit off your data set; the trail you leave behind. It’s true that if you do what you do publicly, that you can be modeled effectively, and that predictive algorithms can figure out what you’re likely to do. Facebook can figure out which 13-year-old boys are going to turn out to be gay. And that’s weird. So when you have companies like Opera doing data research to model us all against one another? That is dark, indeed. What I’m almost more concerned about is the world in which we feel we have to be anonymous about what we do in order to feel safe. When your public identity is so abused by Facebook reality, people become very mean in their bifurcated, anonymous reality. It’s almost a compensatory thing. I’ve never done anything online anonymously. I should try it just to see. I mean, I guess I’m a member of Anonymous, the movement, on a certain level. We all are. But I’m in Anonymous publicly, if I am. If I’m doing a DDoS attack, I’m doing it as me! I’ll do it with my name attached and keep hitting the button. I don’t care. “Down with you, Scientology!” or the Pentagon, or whoever I’m mad at this week.

SG: Well, overt action may be important when surveillance culture can catch you anyway. One of my favorite quips from A.D.D. was, “Who needs comrades when you have followers?” and in the opening scene of Life, Inc. (2009) you describe a Brooklyn brownstone Internet mob attacking you for driving down their property value when you report your own mugging. Do you think comradeship is still possible online?

DR: It’s weird, because I used to think that the real world was all hierarchical and status-oriented and that the online universe was more egalitarian and peer-to-peer. And now it feels the opposite. You go to a group of 10 people and all of a sudden, you’re only as loud as your one voice. People think I have conservative values now about the Internet, but I wrote the first book just to say, “No, when you’re online, you’re not just a worker, you’re not just a drone. You might be a kid who’s building a new reality and creating something for the future of humanity.” But most kids are no longer doing that. It doesn’t even occur to them to be doing that. That’s why the next thing for me was scale: I don’t need to influence reality on this meta-generic-corporate-blockbuster level. There is a conversation happening there, and I can get on MSNBC to be in that and drop my thought-bombs. But in terms of my actual organic being, there’s a different conversation I need to become a part of — a much more local, immediate, human one.

SG: I have to give you credit: You’re the reason I feel guilty when I don’t grow my own vegetables.

DR: I have to tell you, I tried it and failed. I spent $300 on soil and equipment, and ended up with maybe two salads. I’m better off contributing to the efforts of my community-supported agriculture group.

SG: Who inspires your writing right now?

DR: I get more clear about my formative influences all the time now. Brecht was really big for me. I’ve gotten beyond it, but it was so foundational, the idea of “Can you entertain people and feed them ideas at the same time?” Mcluhan. Robert Anton Wilson, in terms of recognizing that you’re in various reality tunnels. Harvey Pekar, in terms of being a participant in the real world. I liked Eli Pariser’s book Filter Bubble, which shows people they don’t know what they’re missing. Google, for all its Android openness, is not necessarily secretive, but it’s not transparent. The kind of people who came to my Contact Conference inspire me; the guys doing FreedomBox and FreedomTower. I’m inspired by Code Academy, these kids who dropped out of Columbia to create this super-free programming education online, and they’ve reversed the money equation. Rather than you paying for your education, they make companies pay for access to you. They make money through finder’s fees. As for reading, it’s hard for books to keep up. I love terrestrial radio.

SG: A.D.D. is pitched as a young-adult graphic novel. Have your experiences as a parent informed youth-themed projects like this?

DR: My daughter’s only seven. She’s not one of those kids they throw an iPad in front of at age one-and-a-half, and suddenly they’re programming Rube Goldberg simulators. She likes dolls and puppets and make-believe play. Part of what motivated me was seeing just how prevalent and real it is. Half the kids in her nursery school had a person there just for your kid to help them with sensory integration issues. Everybody’s got a diagnosis these days. There are very few kids who are what they call “ neurotypical.” Some people might think I’m making light of these disorders. I’m not saying that video games cause spectrum disorders, but certain disorders are sure like ’em!

SG: A.D.D. reminded me of a classical Greek story arc, where you have a sibyl or seer who is separated from society, or individuated, and suffers for that.

DR: That’s what I meant it to be. You can’t be of the body and see the body at the same time. Without giving too much away, I went the other way with that, saying, “Okay, kids, you can change the world!” And them saying, “Screw it. The grown-ups are going to screw up the world.”

SG: Abandoning the meatworld and its body politic.

DR: [Laughs] In the early days, as any kind of psychedelic cyber-utopian would, I was into that gnostic trip, that Kurzweillian “omigod, we’re going to build the virtual mind!” As I grew up, I realized, “Oh no! There is no virtual mind!” The virtual mind is fucking Facebook or something. I don’t want to upload my consciousness!

SG: That’s a very permeable arrangement! So back to the comic book, I think A.D.D. is my favorite moral mutant story since the glory days of X-Men.

DR: Grant Morrison said the same thing, so that made me happy.

SG: You’ve scripted documentary, written histories, and played in bands. Can you tell me about your collaborators at Vertigo, and what you learned from storyboarding a graphic novel?

DR: Vertigo’s process is different from the traditional Marvel process where you’re sitting around doing that. The comic I wrote before this, Testament, had actual innovative panel concepts. There were characters who lived outside the panel, reached into the panel. But this was very straight up. It started out pitched as a series about these kids who have special abilities and live in this facility but escape, almost like The Incredible Hulk, going from place to place and solving all these problems because they see the world in a different way. And then they decided it would be a graphic novel. I was going to start with a utopia where you get to play video games, you get to masturbate, everything’s free, and it’s shopping mall perfection. My editor, Jonathan Baken, said, No, start with the premise that this was fucked up. As a nonfiction writer, it was unbalancing, but that’s the way drama works. They wanted this to be accessible to the so-called young-adult reader, and to move like a regular comic book, not like some highfalutin’ graphic novel written by a media-theorist guy. They laid out these rules: no more than two dialogue balloons per panel. No more than three characters per panel. Five panels per page.

SG: To me, the rules were successful. Perhaps this reveals my own attention deficit, but for 50% of the story I was consumed by propulsive denouement.

DR: In no sense was A.D.D. a dumbing-down, but rather a simplified, straightforward storytelling style. I’ve always felt you could either say something new, or say something old in a new way. With Testament, there were retold Bible stories. With Cyberia, my first book, was the unknown hypertext universe written as a straight-up nonfiction book. Boom.

SG: I was surprised to find myself jumping from panel to panel really quickly. Do you think that this pacing will influence your next project?

DR: I don’t know. If I do another graphic novel, yeah. This was my first successful work of fiction since Ecstasy Club. First novels are sort of easy in a weird way because you’ve got so much autobiographical momentum, and you’re young, and it leans forward just because that’s the way you are.

SG: And then there’s the sophomore slump. I know a lot of young writers just getting to that place right now.

DR: Right! so I was in sophomore slump from 30 to 49 in terms of fiction. Nonfiction, I know how to hit those out of the park. And that’s not to show off: Some people know how to make a really good pancake. I know how to write a really good nonfiction book. I did some screenplays, and they had great ideas but didn’t function well as a good, old-fashioned yarn-spin. I felt that spinning a yarn was like throwing a bone to the masses.

SG: You’re capitulating.

DR: Yeah, to some commercial thing. My old high school buddy, Aaron Sorkin, is the best in the world at that. He can take something and make that feel-good, emotional, ironic undertow. That’s what he does. I bridled against traditional Aristotelian narrative because it’s wrong on some level. Things are more complex. There’s no closure. so I always looked at act of storytelling the way artsy European films do. “Is it over? Oh it’s the credits! Omigod! So are they getting together, or not?” But those don’t conform to Robert McKee’s story, and on some level, they exude an audience contempt that the audience doesn’t deserve. They paid their money; they want to feel good.


text:
You Are Always On My Mind

Mr. NinthHouse has recently begun wearing an Up Bracelet around his wrist that keeps tabs of the duration and quality of his sleep (it monitors and calibrates the integrity of his winks and nods by sorting them into specific groups: amount of time it took him to fall asleep; amount and duration of deep sleep; light sleep; no sleep; how many times he woke up; and so on).

Although it took him only 6 minutes to fall asleep, out of a total of 8 hours of intended sleep, Mr. NH only enjoyed an actual 2 point something hours of deep sleep.

I would give anything to be able to fall asleep in 6 minutes. That very same night, it took me more than 2 point something hours to forget I was awake (in my mentally charged universe, that translates to falling asleep).

My job stresses me out so badly, I need one day (Saturday) out of my 2-day weekend just to de-compress from the aggravation.

When Sunday morning rolls around, the feeling of relaxation is short-lived. By Sunday afternoon, the realization that Monday morning is just around the bend looms large, filling me with dread.

To defuse the dread, I post a blog. About my job. How pathetic is that.

MY DAY JOB is always on my mind. The repetitiveness of the work itself I have come to terms with as one of life’s inevitabilities. Bills need to be paid, and the rest of it.

The real problem is one particular coworker of mine. If you’re familiar with my blog, you may recall the DODO BIRD.

What I cannot come to terms with — no matter how many mantras I chant, creative visualizations I entertain, or Mozart piano concertos I plug into my ears to drown out this mean spirited, bitter, passive aggressive, manipulative provocateur of the DODO BIRD — nothing will stop her from trying to ruin my day, and everyone else’s day.

The Powers That Be — collectively embodied in the GRACKLE — after months of clandestine bill clappering , have bestowed upon the DODO BIRD a new title.

The DODO BIRD has been made a supervisor, in recognition of: arriving late to work every day and leaving early; honing her skills at online Sudoku; daily sprees of e-shopping; reading the entire life story of Dom DeLuise (seriously, and at her desk, of course); and perfecting the art of the 3-hour lunch break.

The DODO’s new title is sufficiently vague and incomprehensible so that no one — not even the DODO — knows exactly where her new responsibilities (if any) lie.

We birds of a different feather learned of the DODO BIRD’s dubious promotion not from any formal announcement. Rather, from the updated telephone extension list.

It so happens, I came across this clip today in the NYT’s magazine:

The Company You Keep

“When it comes to work, less may be more.  A study found that low performing employees were more likely to say that their company was “a great organization to work for” and reported being more engaged than middle- and high-performers did. Those who did their jobs best often felt “stressed and undervalued,” says Mark Murphy, the C.E.O. of Leadership IQ, which conducted the study, because “it starts to undermine the high performers’ confidence that the organization is a meritocracy.”

meritocracy:  1: a system in which the talented are chosen and moved ahead on the basis of their achievement;  2: leadership selected on the basis of intellectual criteria.

For about two seconds, the above quote made me feel, I don’t know, recognized? Less alone? But, really, it’s all sort of meaningless, isn’t it?

The meaninglessness of clinging to a belief in meritocracy was confirmed through a bit of googling when I came across a journal article called “The Meritocracy Myth,” written by two sociologists out of the University of No. Carolina:  Stephen J. McNamee and Robert K. Miller, Jr.

An excerpt:

“According to the ideology of the American Dream, America is the land of limitless opportunity in which individuals can go as far as their own merit takes them. According to this ideology, you get out of the system what you put into it. Getting ahead is ostensibly based on individual merit, which is generally viewed as a combination of factors including innate abilities, working hard, having the right attitude, and having high moral character and integrity. Americans not only tend to think that is how the system should work, but most Americans also think that is how the system does work (Huber and Form 1973, Kluegel and Smith 1986, Ladd 1994).

“In our book  The Meritocracy Myth (Rowman & Littlefield, 2004), <http://www.rowmanlittlefield.com/isbn/0742510565>, we challenge the validity of these commonly held assertions, by arguing that there is a gap between how people think the system works and how the system actually does work. We refer to this gap as “the meritocracy myth,” or the myth that the system distributes resources—especially wealth and income—according to the merit of individuals. We challenge this assertion in two ways. First, we suggest that while merit does indeed affect who ends up with what, the impact of merit on economic outcomes is vastly overestimated by the ideology of the American Dream. Second, we identify a variety of nonmerit factors that suppress, neutralize, or even negate the effects of merit and create barriers to individual mobility…”

Reading these two paragraphs reminds me of a line by songwriter Slaid Cleaves:

“No one remembers your name for working hard.”

Maybe it’s time to take a page out the Hummingbird’s book.

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text:
We have all been there, standing, watching, cringing, crying, yelling as we have just witnessed a relationship end.

Most of us develop this idea from a young age, which stays with us as we get older, that it is always the other persons fault that it has ended. Even if you did the breaking up.

The harsh truth is though, that where there is a relationship, there are two people at play. Which means both parties are equally responsible for it ending.

And I am not just necessarily talking about sexual partnerships, friendships count in this as well.

Now, you might be thinking.. “well, I didn’t think it would end” or “how was i supposed to know that it wouldn’t last”

And, with that in mind, here are 10 ways I have noticed in my short 24 years of relationships with others to ruin a relationship.

Continue reading “10 ways to ruin a relationship”


text:
Tuesday, February 24, 2015

the post mortem

Photo Credit: mptvimage.com

To paraphrase a popular line from innumerable movies, watching the Oscars is like banging your head repeatedly against a brick wall.

It feels so good when it's over.

Not surprisingly, the rating for The Oscarcast was down this year.  First, it was reported that the numbers were down by 10 percent from last year.  Then, the figure went to 14.9 percent, before ballooning to the current number, 16 percent (in some quarters, 17 percent).  Oy.

In an excellent analysis today in The New York Times, titled "Oscars Show Growing Gap Between Moviegoers and Academy," the decline is dissected and defined in thorough fashion by Brooks Barnes and Michael Cieply.

The low rating is no surprise because of the films and performances in question.  It has become apparent that there's a correlation between the movies involved in the competition and the level of enthusiasm that the viewers, average moviegoers, have for those films.  This year, the buzz surrounded such titles as "Boyhood," "Whiplash" and the 2015 winner, "Birdman," films with which movie critics and die-hard cinéphiles may obsessed, but not the moviegoing public.

In point of comparison, the public was obsessed with the 1998 Oscar winner - the big-studio "Titanic." That year, the Oscarcast drew an average of 57.25 million people over its length, which was a 29% increase from the previous year when the indie, "The English Patient," dominated the show.

In recent years, as more independent filmmakers have become members of the academy, the five slots for Best Picture have become dominated by independent films.  This apparently became cause for concern because the Academy expanded the field to as many as 10 titles, so that more popular titles had a chance to vie for the top award.  But this year, there was only one popular film among the eight nominees - "American Sniper."

Not even "Interstellar," which is not only a big and popular film but an extremely thoughtful one, managed to make the grade.

The show itself, meanwhile, was so unmemorable this year that most of the dialogue has revolved around the annually problematic In Memoriam sequence.  Someone is always left out.  For some reason, everyone seems up in arms this year about the exclusion of Joan Rivers, whose handful of films included a witty cameo in Burt Lancaster's "The Swimmer" and the comedy "Rabbit Test," which she directed.  Her other titles are negligible. Elaine Stritch, also slighted, had a similarly lightweight résumé.

There have been no complaints, however, that a real movie star - Lizabeth Scott - was conspicuously missing from this year's In Memoriam. Scott was a major fixture in several film noir classics, arguably the definitive femme fatale.  Granted, she passed in 2015 - on January 31 - but Rod Taylor, Anita Ekberg and Louis Jourdan, all of whom died after her, were included. In the scheme of things, who cares about Joan Rivers? She was a peripheral player at best.

And while we're at it, the fine director Joseph Sargent ("The Taking of Pelham One Two Three," "MacArthur") was also overlooked.

Bad form. Very bad form.

Postcript:  Two readers, Beth and Charlotte, alerted me to the fact that the Academy has a complete In Memoriam photo gallery on its site.  Everyone is there - 129 names in all, alphabetized.  Joan Rivers is there.  Elaine Stritch is there. Lizabeth Scott is there.  Joe Sargent is there. So why didn't the Academy simply refer the media to its site when all the fuzz started?  An Academy spokesperson has been apologizing for the Rivers omission, saying "You can't include everyone."  Which is true. Listing 129 names would have added yet another half hour to an already unwieldy show.  But directing the curious to the Academy's site could have avoided an unnecessary misunderstanding.  Flawed communication here.  Anyway, click here for the Academy's photo/memoriam link.

Marvin said...

I have read the New York Times article you mention. Frankly, I loathe and detest "people" and "society," so I was utterly delighted with the nominees for Best Picture.

Sure, most people weren't interested in most of the nominated films (other than AMERICAN SNIPER).

But, Joe, and you must agree with me, most people aren't smart. If they had their way, HOT TUB TIME MACHINE 2 would win Best Picture, or these horrible "special effects" monstrosities which make no sense would get the majority of the awards.

So what if this "type" of moviegoer isn't "connecting with" the Academy and its choices for Best Picture. Who cares about this type of person? Not I!

Is the Academy getting elitist? Hell, yes! And I say "Good for the Academy!"

Sheila said...

Omitting LIzabeth Scott was very sloppy, Joe. I was extremely annoyed.

Beth said...

No, Lizabeth Scott was not included in the televised In Memoriam, but the Academy includes her on its site. Here's the link:

Charlotte said...

It's true. The Academy's In Memoriam photo gallary on line in pretty complete. There are 129 photos. Joan Rivers is there. So is Elaine Stritch.

Kevin Deany said...

Kill the useless Jennifer Hudson song that followed the In Memorian segment and include more deserving names. No excuse at all for leaving out Lizabeth Scott or Joseph Sargent.

Daryl said...

So the Oscars were invented eons ago for a way of looking good. Seems like nothing has changed.

Alex said...

If "Interstellar," a popular film, doesn’t qualify for an Oscar, exactly what does?

Marvin said...

I am very flattered that you would make MY two "horrible omissions" the subject of the "post mortem" on The Passionate MovieGoer. THANK YOU.


text:
The Philosophy of Philosophy

I’ve been having a load of fun over the last few days recovering from a fluey bug I caught last week (thanks dad) and doing my references for a philosophy essay. I’m determined that this time I’ll actually know what the references are about rather than just skimming the first page like I usually do, so I’ve been reading all the way through and making notes to refer to for the essay. It’s 100% coursework, OK, there isn’t an exam for this module (!!!) so I really need to do well.

I think my least favourite part of it was the part where two of the books only exist as hard copies in the library at RHUL, 40 minutes away from home. Thank god I realised before I went up to Yorkshire, because there’s just something about a 4 hour drive to the library that doesn’t appeal, you know? As it was I had to spend half an hour checking the same damn shelf because I’d mixed the two books up and I was looking for the wrong three letter code.

Anyway, the question I’ve chosen is about knowledge in art. Can art give us knowledge? My instinctive answer is, of course it can! But I’m starting to think that maybe that knee-jerk reaction might not be entirely correct. In fact – and this is a good one, I’m thinking I might throw something like this in – the mere assumption that artistic quality has to be associated with cognitive brilliance is indicative of the privileging of intellectuality inherent in European society. This elitism regarding standards of media possibly limits our appreciation of art to that which is ‘traditionally’ cognitively brilliant. tl;dr: we think stuff has to be clever to be high quality, but maybe it doesn’t.

Wow that paragraph was a mouthful. almost as much of a mouthful as some of these readings. Well, I’d better get back to it. Lamarque isn’t going to read himself…

Look ma, I’m doing an internet!

It’s strange to think how much things have changed since I was smaller. I can still remember when all our computer was really for was gruelling minesweeper marathons. If you wanted to play anything more sophisticated than solitaire, there was the Super Nintendo (SNES, I think. But I’ve never been entirely certain) which we had three games for; LoZ: Link to the Past, Mario Kart, and some Starfox game. Just three! And we never got bored, or at least I don’t think we did.

Today I am significantly taller, in possession of three games consoles and I-don’t-even-know –how-many games. I think I could survive without those things though. After all, I have my books. What more do I need? What else is there? All I need is my Kindle (and yes, the real paperback books on my bookshelf/in piles on my floor) and internet connection –

Ah. Yes. That.

The ever present internet.

When did it become so vital? Did I just blink and miss the part where computers  took over the entire world? (Apart, obviously, from the places where they don’t have computers. Not to worry, trusty Western civilisation is on hand to spread the laptops all over the planet! No, don’t thank us. We’re glad to do it.) If computers were missiles, I would have a missile on my lap right now.

Anyway. My point was that everyone is on the internet. I’m pretty sure everyone I know has their own computer (of some kind. For the purposes of this conversation if they have a laptop they basically have a computer. Although, how does one categorise the people who have a computer and a laptop? Oh, and the PC/Apple thing is as stupid as it gets. It’s like saying, I wear coats and he wears jackets so we’re wearing different clothes. No. Bad. Blimey, this is a long parenthesis), and they all have internet connection, although even if they didn’t they could get on the internet using the power of smart phones. Am I the only one who’s slightly weirded out by a phone that’s basically a computer? No? Just me then…

It’s like in that short story by Neil Gaiman, where the whole world gets completely engrossed in this computer game and the entire human race dies out because everyone’s forgetting to eat food and go to the toilet. Maybe one day we’ll all just be husks, sitting at our desks and typing away madly until we run out of electricity.

Speaking of which, I’d better go and have some breakfast.


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text:
Life is hard in Quintard

By Kasey Marshall

Executive Staff

Bard of Quintard

Friday. 7:55 a.m. You look up at your alarm clock in terror. Accepting your punishment for hubris, you prepare for your daily Tartarean task. All becomes a blur as you desperately gather necessities, as you will not have the energy to return for the forgotten. If you’re going to be late, you somehow feel obligated to do so fashionably. Your eyeliner must be symmetrical. Your outfit perfectly coordinated and resistant to the treachery of bicycling, lest you fall victim to bike chain snares or the exposure of your “knee socks.” Possibly your ankles. The elevator has no sympathy, so you run down the stairs and brace yourself for the unforgiving cold. Even in the blindingly icy wind, you pedal deftly around ice, potholes, and bad drivers. You envy them. Lost in your bitterness, you fly over the small speed bump next to Elliott. But hark, the bell tolls! It tolls for thee, but only once. It is 8:15. You have failed. Gasping for air and drenched with sweat, you shamefully take your seat at the back of the classroom, praying that your professor will not notice. You have prayed in vain. Her eyes meet yours as she notes your sin with a single flick of her pen. Quintardy© again.

Later in the day, you try to soothe your wounded pride at your usual fraternity. But there you find yourself drowning in a sea of strangers. Even your old friends darkness and Jack Daniels have become foreign to you. The music jars your silence-accustomed ears. But still you dance. Dance. DANCE. Forget the pain. Once you’ve had enough, you begin to stagger home. You attempt to invoke the mythical BACCHUS, but he with his retinue of maenads zooms past you into the night. When will BACCHUS notice you?

You return to your Ithaca without celebration. The fickle elevator finally decides to humor you. Within your vertical chariot, you reach for the buttons over a puddle of what appears to be light beer. It is not light beer. As a last ditch effort at human connection, you go to check Yik Yak. But just as Aeneas reached for the shade of Creusa, so too do you reach for your phone. Falling to your knees, so too do you weep. You abandoned your phone on the counter of a now distant frat bathroom (or fratroom). God knows what fluids it has come in contact with now. Your usual cries of “тоскá*” have been replaced with a single defeated and broken whisper: “Life’s hard in Quintard.”

If you saw yourself in this tragic narrative, you too are likely a Quintardian. But not a Gorgan; your dorm’s notorious godforsakenness hardly merits an article. That aside, it’s odd how we’re held to the same standards as central-campus dwellers. Shouldn’t my survival and eventual presence count for something? Why are my attendance grades so bad? Isn’t Raynaud’s phenomenon a valid excuse for missing class? Is it obvious that I woke up on the floor of Woods 341 this morning?

I’ll admit being prone to theatrics, but I’m not salty in solitude. When asked how much he identified with the phrase “life’s hard in Quintard” on a scale of one to ten, fellow Quintardian Ben Sadler (C’17) gave a rating of “a solid nine point five. When it’s cold? Ten. Maybe eleven.” Such a brief response says it all.

Yet through this exchange, I also discovered that Quintard’s benefits and disadvantages are one and the same. The knowing “me too” in response to “I live in Quintard” initiates a bond stronger than I’ve had with any lover. And in that moment, I feel completely understood, even if that person will always be a stranger to me. Coexisting in silence, an entire building of people shares a profound communal empathy. The unique peace of Quintard can’t be solely attributed to its residents; distance from central campus also means distance from all fraternities. Although it’s hard to appreciate when you’re running late, the walk really is beautiful. Nicer still is hiking to the Cross, where the sunset-watching possibilities are nearly limitless. Even without leaving your room, there’s something to be said about the way the fog rolls in over the rugby field. With all its faults, Quintard has some endearing je ne sais quoi that surpasses all understanding. And at least it’s not Alcatraz.

*a Russian word of untranslatable despair

Photo by Kasey Marshall

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