i wish they could even qualify as the prejudicial board betty

Originally written 03.09.2002

Ok, random thought number two. I was skateboarding today, and having a good time. It was at Bristo square again, and as is usual on a Saturday, the place was packed with the locals tearing it up, and the Linkin Park hoodie clad lurkers, well, lurking. The scene, minus cranky old people, is almost exactly like the parks back in Columbus that Kevey, Steven, and I frequented before I left the states. Be it Carlisle, Columbus, Austin, or now Edinburgh, I’m always struck by the universality of skateboarding. It makes me feel good to be able to go pretty much anywhere and feel, at least in some capacity, accepted. But there are parrallels between the Scottish skate scene and the US scene that I wish weren’t there. In fact it’s an aspect of the skate scene that I wish didn’t exist at all.
Before I delve into my tirade, I’d first like to talk about why I like skateboarding. I like skateboarding because, for me, it’s always been more than a sport. Sure, there are superstars, and now there seems to be some actual big cash in skateboarding, but that doesn’t change it for me. What I like about skateboarding is that, more than any other physical activity, it also involves a completely diverse and exciting subculture. I started skating more because the older skaters were musicians, artists, and high school intellectuals than because I thought the tricks were cool. The majority of the music that I got into when I was in junior high was, at least indirectly, because of Trasher or skate videos. Recently, I heard that OSU built a skate bowl in the art gallery and brought the ‘Gonz in to read some poetry. How cool is that? To me, skateboarding was different because it was rebellion. Rebellion against cops, teachers, and ridiculous regulations. It was empowerment. Unlike other sports, skateboarding wasn’t defined strictly by rules or paradigms set by professional leagues, it was something that every kid could take for himself and mold into something beutiful. Skateboarding wasn’t an ends, it was, as its innate qualities suggest, a vehicle. It wasn’t just a vehicle in terms of mobility, though skating through town gave me a freedom that I think most non-skate junior high kids didn’t experience. Skateboarding was a vehicle by which I could define my identity, picking up music, art, and ideas as I cruised down the sidewalk of my adolescence.

I guess I like to think that skateboarding is somehow different than most things in life, and I’d argue that most skaters would agree with this viewpoint. So, when I find that skateboarding gets to be too much like the rest of life, I get a bit angry. After all, skateboarding is what I use to get away from all of life’s other crap. So, to get to the point, I was skating, and I noticed these groups of 12-14 year old girls just hanging about. They were outfitted in the typical preteen nu-metal chic, and I’ll presume that they probably thought of themselves as different than their more mainstream female peers. Why then, do these girls partake in an activity that is, in my mind, even worse than the most despicable aspect of American adolescent athletics, cheerleading? I mean, with cheerleading, you can at least argue that it take some kind of athletic ability and commitment. The skatepark groupies just sit there. I don’t understand how that can in any way be fun. The boys get to skate, and well, the girls get to watch. Sounds fair to me.

At the risk of coming off as a chauvenist, I say it’s the girls fault. They’re perpetuating the very dangerous role of girl as onlooker and boy as active participant. Sure, skateboarding has always been a boys club, but these days, there are a lot of kids skateboarding, and even though some of the younger ones could destroy me in a game of S-K-A-T-E, there are droves who are shit. There is no doubt in my mind that even the most casual young female skater, despite the fact that she has no real role models save Elissa Steamer and the fact that she has no neon clad sister thrashers smiling and pitching some snack food on the TV, could at least skate as well as these jokers. Even if girls who start skating now get a bit of hostility from the boys, it can’t be any worse than what skaters in general put up with before skateshops started popping up in malls. Maybe a new generation of young female skaters can keep the torch of skateboarding as rebellion against social norms alive in a day and age when you see kids being trucked to the skateparks in mini vans by soccer moms and dads.

I got annoyed while reading the skate-lifestyle magazine Stance last year, because the only girls that appeared in the magazine where these lame models/aspiring actresses who had nothing to say and didn’t even skate. Well, if things are going to change, the girls are going to have to get off the benches and on to the boards. The teenaged girl who skates and fancies herself as somehow different from her girlier and more vapid contemporaries is as deluded as the anti-capitalist who smokes Phillip Morris cigarrettes.

on a more positive skate note …

Originally written 03.09.2002

For all the computer-inclined skate kids, Emerica’s website, http://www.emericaskate.com, has some really beautiful desktop wallpaper images. I have Jim Greco b/s lipsliding on my desktop. It’s ace.

pics of the carnage

Originally written 03.05.2002

You can barely make out the pile of electronics in the lower right hand corner of the photo.

reason 1,000,002 (and counting) …

Originally written 03.05.2002.

… why I’m straightedge.

I’m going to download Firestorm by Earth Crisis and just put on my headphones and play it over and over on nights like tonight.

The day started out cool enough. Marco’s mate from Aberdeen came down for a visit. I found out that Marco used to be a Magic: The Gathering player. I hadn’t played since one nerdy weekend back when Josh and I were living in Riverwatch during my sophmore year, but after some arm-twisting (actually, I confess, no persuasion was needed), Marco convinced me to play him in a game. It was fun, but it was sort of odd to realize that Marco started playing long after I had quit.

As afternoon turned into early evening, however, things were not so cool. Marco had hit the Buckfast (a tonic wine that’s his favorite alcoholic beverage) and was already showing signs of drunkenness. I went down to collect my wash from the laundry room only to find Iain sitting in the common room looking very concerned. Evidently Marco had provoked Iain into a bit of a scuffle and Iain had pushed Marco hard, leaving him with some rug rash on his back, and Marco had then thrown some blows before his mate was able to intervene. Iain was pretty upset that he lost control so easily, but knowing Marco, I’d almost guess that he deserved it. Marco eventually came in and appologized and Iain did as well. So that’s one reason I’m sXe; avoiding putting your good friends in situtations that are utter shite. Iain is honestly one of the nicest people I’ve known in a while, and he was obviously upset by the fact that things got out of hand with Marco, and that just sucks.

So with all that over, I ate my tofu and went to my room to code up my programming assignments. All of a sudden, I heard something hit the ground below my window. I looked out, and saw a speaker hit the ground. Then I saw another, and another, and another. I cringed as each piece of electronics hit the ground, hoping that pieces didn’t ricochet and hit a nearby car. By that time, people in nearby flats were peeking out their windows at the carnage, wondering who had done it. I knew. There was only one person drunk enough to destroy their personal possesions so randomly. Drunkard X. (Let’s call this person drunkard X for now so as to protect the not-in-any-way innocent) So, I just stayed in my room, and heard all kinds of madness outside and from the rooms upstairs. I just turned up the volume on the This American Life episode and ignored it all. I heard a knock on my door, and when I opened it, it was the university security. They took a look out my window, and given the running laptop and schoolbooks on the desk in front of the window, seemed pretty satisfied that I wasn’t the culprit. They asked me if I saw who did it. I told them that I didn’t know.

After the authorities had left, I went up to find the rest of my flatmates in the common room talking about the incident. Drunkard X was pretty relieved that he had gotten away with it. I don’t know how he pulled it off. He’s just a pretty smooth talker I guess. After he left, Rob told me that Drunkard X had simply thrown the stereo (evidently the stereo that another flatmate had bought for Drunkard X after that flatmate had smashed Drunkard X’s original stereo) out the window because the CD player wouldn’t play a burnt CD! He also told me that I shouldn’t tell Iain, or anybody else about it, which was kind of hard since I texted Iain about it as soon as the speakers started falling. I guess I’m breaking that request again as I’m writing this hear, but I’m guessing anyone who reads this isn’t in a position to get anyone into any trouble. It’s not like I really care what happens to Drunkard X, but I’m willing to be pragmatic. Getting kicked out of the flat, or kicked out of school, which would be the likely consequence if he were caught, won’t help him make better decisions in his life.

Again, we have another shining example of why I’m straightedge. Once again, I find myself in an akward position because of something out of my control. I’ve had to lie to the authorities, and, even worse, I’ve been asked to keep things from my other friends. Furthermore, I would say avoiding doing plain stupid shit is another good reason why I’m sXe. The falling hifi gear, luckily, didn’t hit any cars, or, thank goodness, anybody, but it could have. At the very least, it junked up the courtyard around the flat. Finally, I know kids who would really like a stereo like that and can’t afford. Fuck, I would have used it if he really didn’t want it. It’s just such a fucking waste to see it lying in pieces outside my window. Don’t get me wrong. I like mindless destruction as much as the next guy, but this is far, far past the point where I draw the line.

reason number 1,000,0003

Originally written 03.05.2002

Do you know what I really like doing at 2:30 in the morning? I really enjoy cleanup up other people’s blood. Oh yeah, and I also like trying to help Iain keep “mates” of 14 years from killing each other. Or tough-guy assholes from killing other assholes who don’t know when to shut up. Or nosy neighbours, who, though justified in being bothered by the ruckus are oblivious to the fact that the drunks they’re trying to scold aren’t listening.

I’m writing this only a few hours after the the stereo incident and Marco’s (a.k.a. Drunkard X, I really don’t care at this point) mate comes to our flat with blood all over his hand and face, claiming he just came from the hospital because Marco broke his nose while he mate tried to keep Marco from fighting witha bouncer. After we had time to reflect on matters, we realized that this was probably a big lie since it would doubtful that a hospital would send him home covered in blood. After he bled all over our bathroom, he left, saying that he was going to go to a hotel (this story later turned into getting picked up by his mom. At 3 AM he’s sleeping in the hallway of the flat across the street). On his way out Marco came home and they started to argue. Marco claimed he was lying about the nose-breaking. I don’t know what happened, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t get a straight story from either party. The altercation went out to the street where some brawny agriculture student got involved and started trying to pick a fight with Marco. It was a good thing Iain is big because he somehow managed to defuse the situation. Then, the arguing between “mates” moved down the street where some old guy was accosting Marco and his mate for the noise. Granted, he was more than justified, but he should have been observent enough to see that the two were well beyond reason. He should have just called the cops. So, Iain and I then spent the next 45 minutes trying to keep Marco and his mate from killing each other and cleaning the kid’s blood off of everywhere. Pete was around, and tried his best to help, but sometimes it seems like he just says the wrong things and doesn’t make matters any easier.

So, the next time someone asks me why I’m sXe, I refer them to this. All of this shit surely would not have happened had all parties been sober. I don’t drink because there are enough irresponsible people doing horrible things to each other and dragging down completely innocent parties already. It is a political gesture, a symbolic gesture. I’ve seen to many good people have to deal with dire consequences to take part in an activity that is so tainted.

coding

Originally written 03.04.2002.

In my oppinion, the CIS computer labs at OSU suck.
Maybe the only time when they’re the least bit cool
is during CIS 560 (the big CS project course at
OSU) when the labs become infused with the kind
of comraderie, humour, and dare I say, fun, that
only massive sleep deprivation and staring at too much lexx and yacc
input can create.

Here, it’s a little different. The CS computer labs are
warmly lit and and carpeted and have goldenrod
paint on the walls. Not to mention the cushy couches
and tables that look like they’d be more appropriate
for a coffee shop. There’s also this seperate project
lab called the “hardware bunker” where I’m sitting
now, and it has self-managed machines, notebook
ports, and a sound system hooked up to an mp3
jukebox. What could be better than coding java
and listening to Kylie Minogue and Shakira?

sick

Originally written 01.03.2002

Last night I fealt fine. I went up to see the girls in flat 8 and use their phone. I chatted with the flat’s inhabitants for a bit while waiting for the phone to become free. Then, barring some phone card logistics, I called Erin and talked to her for a while. It was a fairly late evening but nothing crazy. I even fealt fine when I woke up. I reluctantly emerged from bed to notice a note that Iain had slipped under my door that read:

GEOFF, CAN YOU WAKE ME UP BEFORE YOU GO, I NEED YOUR HELP AGAIN. HELLA BUSTED W./ EXCEL. LOVE & HUGS, IAIN.

So, I knocked on a very disheveled Iain’s door and showed him how to format his table cells in Excel. I walked the 25 minutes down to King’s Buildings, and all was right with the world. As I was sitting in my computer architecture lecture, I noticed that I was sniffing more than George W. Bush in his twenties. My nose just wouldn’t stop running. I chalked it up to normal congestion, but as I was submitting that computer security practical, that familiar feeling came over me. I was ill.

When I say ill, I don’t mean ill in the “License to Ill” or “illin’ like a villain” sense. Oh no, I mean the perpetually runny nose, sore throat, miserable sort of ill. I like to think that I’m usually pretty good at being sick. I’d say that the only qualm my firends and family have is my willingness to carry on as usual and my averesion to brightly packaged over the counter wonder-drugs. Today though, I fealt a moody cuss. I was just pissed off at the world. A dry, sunshiny day, and I was feeling to cruddy to skate. Furthermore, I was feeling to bad, and too infectious to make it over to the party at Timothy’s residence hall. So, I fought my way through the South Bridge/Nicholson/South Clerk Street pedestrian traffic to score some echinacea tea and went back to the flat for the rest of the evening. I got some work done on my distributed systems simulation and listened to a ton of old This American Life episodes. In doing so, I realized that Dishwasher Pete sounds surprisingly similar to Kevey and that it’s odd how Camden Joy’s grandios antics and guerilla music reviews can make him a pseudo celebrity while Charlie and Kyle remain in obscurity. All in all, not a very exciting evening, but hey, TAL is rad, and there’s not much else one can do when ill.

in concert

Originally written 25.02.2002.

This past weekend was full of good music. I could give you a thousand reasons why I love music and going to shows. However, I’ll just give you a hundred reasons, or actually the band Hundred Reasons who Iain and I went to see at the Liquid Room Sunday night. The show was opened by some British punk mainstays, Douglas and Capdown, as well as some other ska-punk meets youth crew band whose name I don’t remember. The first band was a bit typical, but they were having fun, as was the rest of the crowd, so I was down. The Gorilla Biscuits cover was good at least. Douglas played second, and I was really impressed. Basic slowed down, punkish rock music, but really good. The only low point was when the singer climbed on the balcony and dove into the crowd, landing on some kid and seriously injuring him. Not cool. The lead singer was really sorry, at least, and urged the rest of the kids to not attempt any further stage diving. It was at this point that I realized how nice of a guy Iain really is because he was really bothered by the irresponsibility of the lead singer at a point where even I found myself being a bit of a show antic apologist. Despite the injuries, they still played a good set. Capdown was next, and they were pretty good. Pilfers-esque ska mixed with some speedy hardcore punk. Not really my thing anymore, but they were good and energetic. Rob’s friend, who accompanied us to the show but didn’t really say much, thought they were better than Hundred Reasons. She was so wrong. Hundred Reasons played last. Iain said it was one of the best shows that he had ever seen. I wouldn’t go that far, but it was the best show I’d seen in a while. No frills, just great intensity. The band were clearly a bunch of old pros at playing shows, because the pacing of the show was spot on. They seamlessly transitioned from some of their more metally songs into the slower, more melodic numbers and back again. I thought we were camping because they were in-tents.

After the show, we stayed up late to watch the rock hour on Viva Plus, the German music TV station. Before the show came on, we got a chance to experience Marco’s drunken antics. Iain grabbed his camcorder and got some prime footage. Marco managed to get partially naked, whip it out, make a man-gina, and then shake his butt, all in front of the camera. He then started brandishing a chair as Iain retreated to protect his rare footage of the king monkey in his natural habitat. I would like to secretly send the video in to the auditions for the reality TV show Big Brother. It would be pure carnage.

By the time the Rock Hour came on, it was pretty late, but I still watched most of it before they started showing lame Marilyn Manson videos. The early part of the show featured live footage, videos, and interviews from Andrew W.K., an American artist who I had never heard before, but is probably huge. They play this cheesy Ramones-meets-hair-metal sort of music, and it’s pretty bad, but strangely fun. His interviews are interesting, but the weirdest thing is that one can’t quite tell if he’s serious about the whole thing or not. Anyway, it’s a good antidote for jokers like Fred Durst who take themselves far too seriously and really shouldn’t.

Saturday didn’t have any shows, but I did buy a ticket to see the consummate Scottish indie rock band, Belle & Sebastian. That’s right. I get to see Belle & Sebastian on the only Scottish date of their spring tour and you don’t. Suckers. I was afraid that I wouldn’t get a floor ticket, but the guys at Ripping Records were nice enough to go through the trouble of giving me the ticket in the front of the store window. Wow! Yeah, so I’m really excited. Seeing Belle & Sebastian was secretly one of my goals in coming to Scotland, and I’m glad that I’m going to make my dreams a reality.

Friday, I went to see the Scottish Symphony Orchestra play a program of contemporary Scottish (I think) composers (Alasdair Nicolson, Karen Francis, Nigel Osborne, Selena Kay, and Malcolm Hayes) in some cool old church. I went with Pete who was cool enough to hook me up with a free ticket. He has been introducing me to a great deal of music outside of my traditional staples and has also been kind enough to answer my questions about music theory and has done his best to explain, despite my utter stupidity when it comes to music theory. I think the concert was being broadcast on one of the BBC radio stations, so that was pretty ace. The concert was pretty good. It didn’t blow me away, but it was nice. I couldn’t help but think that Pete, despite the fact that he was pretty stoned, could get so much more out of the music than I, given his musical background and uncanny intuition into all things musical.

glossary:

• Hundred Reasons

  Hundred Reasons is probably the best UK band that you’ve never heard. Surely they’ll soon release a big album in the states and be adored by the newly post-hardcore loving mainstream rock media (much to Iain’s chagrin). These guys have a very straight forward post-hardcore type sound. It’s nothing new, but they do it so well. In my opinion their best asset is the three way screamed/melodic vocals. It is vaguely reminiscent of Hot Water Music and Recover, and, as is the case with those bands, adds a wonderful richness to the music. They recently released a split with Boston new-emo rockers, Garrison.

• The Liquid Room

  The Liquid Room is a medium sized venue (Columbus kids think slightly smaller than the Newport, Mid-Atlantic kids think the 9:30 club) in the heart of Edinburgh’s Old Town. It tends to cater to a punk, indie, post-hardcore, etc. crowd with shows from fairly well known bands in the aforementioned genres. It is also the home to Evol, the weekly Friday indie club night.

  9c Victoria Street

  Edinburgh, UK

  225 2564

• Ripping Records

  Suck-ass in terms of record selection, but absolutely the place to buy tickets and check out show listings in Edinburgh. The older guy who runs the place was even nice enough to give me the last Belle & Sebastian ticket from the store window so the shop is ace in my book.

  South Bridge

  Edinburgh, UK

changing rooms

Originally written 25.02.2002.

I was watching “Changing Rooms” tonight, which is the BBC show that TLC translated into “Trading Spaces”. My flatmates made fun of me, but I love d.i.y (the British term for home improvement) shows. Also, it totally reminded me of hanging out at Erin’s and lounging on the couch to watch TLC. Sigh. Also, on the show tonight some designer dork totally ripped off the military surplus jungle theme idea that Josh and I had (but never actually executed) a few years ago.

you learn something new every day

I just got done with my Human Communications tutorial, which is, hands down, my favorite class. I don’t find it super challenging, as I have a knowledge of some of the elements of the course (grammars, turing machines, basic linguistics, etc.) from other courses I’ve taken that the other students lack, but I do find it incredibly interesting, and a good synthesis for some of those aforementioned elements of study.

I was reading through the course notes and found a really interesting mention of how arbitrary rules of “proper” grammar really are. For instance, take the rule about not ending sentances with a preposition. The historic basis for this? Some people wanted to model English after Latin, which does not allow trailing prepositions. Completely arbitary. Similarly, the perception of double negatives as being “improper” in English. Well, it seems that other languages, such as French, allow forms both using and excluding double negatives. However, in French, it is the use of double negatives that is considered more formal. Again, a display regarding how arbitrary grammar rules really are. More precisely, it exhibits how detached society’s perception of language is from it’s actual function.

It’s interesting to approach natural language from the perspective of a computer programmer. A programmer will often have to frequently switch programming languages due to the particular strengths and weaknesses of a given language. The syntax for programming languages may differ, but after programming for a while, this almost becomes invisible and one is only aware of the utility of the language. I’m not sure if one could learn to use natural language in such a way, since the languages are much more complex, and it doesn’t seem like one natural language offers any more utility than another, but I wonder how the ability to abstract away syntactic differences in natural language indicates an individual’s ability to perform other tasks. Furthermore, I’m interested to learn how grammar is taught in inner-city and rural schools. I’m guessing that much time is spent trying to break students from their “bad” grammatical habits, rather than exposing students to more language features and making people more litterate.