Thursday, December 02, 2004
I just knocked out a 5 page paper in about an hour and a half, after spending 5 or 6 hours reading and rereading the book it's vaguely based around, picking quotes out, and generally quibbling and procrastinating all afternoon.
It's relatively coherent, despite jumping from vaguely book-reportish to vaguely belligerent and anti-corporation to vaguely preachy. It compares Mickey Mouse to the rats that carried the black plague, viruses to advertising, and the socially responsible hacker to the socially responsible artist.
It's got nice juicy phrases like "societal surroundings", "metaphorical landscape", "conceptual viruses", and "a deep understanding of the substrate in which they work," peppered throughout it. All the quotes are properly cited. I did not mention Bill Mueller once.
Hour and a half.
I essentially feel like I just took a mallet to the head and am now sitting here, slightly dazed, waiting for the pain to show up and tally with the intellectual knowledge that I've been cudgeled. Of course, this was the paper based on the book Snow Crash, which I've likened to "a blow to the base of your skull" before, so that probably only exacerbated the situation. That, and having to think long and hard about parity in the NFL for the next installment of Three Chicks Talk Football, which hurts my brain quite a bit.
Heh, George just knocked on my door, came in, stood around fiddling with his wallet and talking about John Navarre and the Lions for about 25 minutes, and left to go to bed. Some people start feeling a little down in the middle of the night, so they wander over to their friends' rooms and talk about gossip or the meaning of life or whatever because it was on their mind and it makes them feel better to hash it out with someone who understands what they're nattering on about. George does this with football.
Must trot, I have to wake up early tomorrow, wander Ann Arbor and pick up some 'found objects' that I can build a robot from. Don't ask. Sometimes I wish my homework was just to read a chapter and take notes on it, and that was that, but alas. It was not meant to be.
edit: Jason Giambi admits, before a grand jury, that he took steroids he got from Barry Bonds' personal trainer. I think we all knew this was coming, but it's still a sort of nasty satisfaction to hear it verified.
Parasites indeed :)
Also, note to Sox fans who are keen on Pavano and have trouble picturing him going to a team other than Boston. It looks like Detroit is going hard after him. If the Tigs set their sights firmly enough on some of these guys, they could be unexpected spoilers in the offseason. I think they have more money and are more willing to throw it around than a lot of people are giving them credit for.
Keep an eye on them, Theo, or you may regret it later.
1:40 AM
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