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95% scored higher (more stupid), What does this mean? You are 3% stupid. This means...
Overall, you scored as follows:
2% scored the same, and
3% scored lower (less stupid).
You are our next Einstein. Wow! Keep up the great thinking.
thus spake merserene on March 31, 2006 11:55 |
link | comments (7) |
file under eye candy, quizzes & frou frou
21% scored higher (more nerdy), and What does this mean? Your nerdiness is:
Overall, you scored as follows:
79% scored lower (less nerdy).
Mid-Level Nerd. Wow, it takes a lot of hard nerdy practice to reach this level
thus spake merserene on March 30, 2006 23:15 |
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file under eye candy, quizzes & frou frou
Back in 1995, when alternative music meant alternative, there was Wakeland, a band of four guys from Oklahoma City. One of their songs made its way to my local alternative rock station, and it caught me at the first opening vocal note. The unusual first refrain gives the feeling of being dropped right into the middle of a song, even though it's only beginning. Just like coming into the song having your own emotional baggage and knowing exactly where the singer stands. Of not wanting to and can't helping but.
Falling Again
I'm never falling again
I said it to myself so much
Yeah over & over to my friends
I'm so afraid I'm losing touch
Then I see her standing over there
And I just drop my mouth
Yeah this is how it all begins
A simple look across a room
And another stare, over there
In the growing light
I guess this means I'm falling again
And the room, it's starting to spin
All around, inside my head
And I haven't found her yet
Finding an excuse to leave
But someone's passing round another toast
I try to raise my head to see
But it's getting hard to focus
On the girl there that I swear
Will spend her time with me
I guess this means I'm falling again
And the room, it's starting to spin
All around, inside my head
And I haven't found her yet
I guess this means I'm falling again
And the room, it's starting to spin
Yeah, I guess this means I'm falling again
And the room, it's starting to spin
All around, inside my head
And I haven't found her yet
All around, inside my head
And I haven't found her yet
The song didn't get very much play on the station before it went off rotation completely. I called up the radio station about two years after the fact to ask what had happened, as I'd managed to tape the song off of the radio and obviously still couldn't get it out of my head. Guess there just wasn't many requests for it in the midst of songs from more established bands like Stone Temple Pilots, Porno For Pyros, Bush, etc. Disappointed, I thought the band had gone for good.
More than ten years later...well, it's still inside my head. I managed to buy a copy of the CD for cheap on Amazon.com, but who cares if no one has ever heard of them? A song that is truly catchy does not lose its catchiness - except from the curse of having been overplayed - but over at DJ merserene's, I control whether or not it's overplayed. After about 15 repeats today, it hasn't yet.
As the website shows, the band is alive and well, though pared down to three guys, it has produced several albums since. Vive les local college bands that mature into something else much more.
For a taste of what's playing inside and outside of my head, click on track #3 from Amazon's page.
thus spake merserene on March 30, 2006 10:57 |
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file under listening
If you could hear the noise in my head, would you want to?
Luckily for you, all that's in there right now is a song that's on repeat. Over and over and over. I knew someone in college who refused to repeat a song. She had to play the whole album before listening to a song again. Not me. I have the "repeat" button pressed until I'm sick of it. Sometimes that means repeating it about 10 times.
Oh look, that's a whole album, isn't it?
I wish you could listen to my MP3s so you could hear the noise in my head. But Napster is no longer, or else you could.
If money were no object, if there were no obligations, if there were no qualifications involved...at this very fleeting moment, I would choose to be a DJ. Not the kind that spins records in clubs. The kind that decides the playlist at a radio station and puts thoughts into other people's heads.
Tomorrow I'll daydream about being an interpreter. Maybe.
Noise, overheard on the street: "But X Big Firm's Boston office doesn't have a corporate restructuring department!"
I think the noise in my head is prettier.
thus spake merserene on March 28, 2006 17:52 |
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file under listening, living
Two movies, two countries, two time periods, two genres, two styles. Each political in its own way, but both will make you think.
Caché is the story of Georges Laurent and his family, terrorized by an unseen stalker who leaves increasingly private video tapes of them on their front porch. What follows is their effort to get to the bottom of these tapes, but be forewarned…you will probably leave the theatre just as confused as when it you entered. You probably won’t like the characters very much, and you probably won’t feel very entertained or satisfied. But that’s the thing. Few movies will leave talking and wondering for hours and days afterwards, because few movies will leave everything so caché - or hidden.
I had to do some research of my own after coming home, so let me save folks a little bit of trouble. It’s ok – this won’t really spoil anything. Some have described Caché as an allegory of the October 17, 1961 massacre of Algerian demonstrators in Paris, an event that was pretty covered up by the media. The Algerians wanted their country free from French colonial rule, but many demonstrators died after the police threw them into the Seine.
Racial tension? You bet. Any country with a past divided among racial lines knows how difficult it is to bridge that gap. The struggle has yet to end, and though depressing, Caché offers a glimpse of hope, I think.
* * *
Terrorism, on its face…that may be the only link that V for Vendetta has to Caché. Set in a futuristic London, a masked figure known as “V” is branded as a terrorist for fighting a totalitarian/fascist/Hitlerian government. V has a plan, and he will stop at nothing to see it to fruition.
The movie is based on a graphic novel from 25 years ago. Word has it that it was written in response to the conservative Thatcherian government, though the movie script has been adapted to fit the present times...and is especially a propos. But V for Vendetta doesn’t spoon feed anyone anything. Expect only to be entertained, to feel, and to think. A lot.
A word about the acting. Some people can’t act their way out of a paper bag, but some others you’d want to see even when they’re acting behind an iron mask. Hugo Weaving is one of those I'd definitely put in the latter category, as he has now become one of my favorite actors. He is very much underrated. To emote is one thing, but to act with a swoosh of a cape, or the tone of one’s voice, and to elicit such emotions from the audience…it's a rare gift. But one must see for oneself why Weaving is at the top of his art.
* * *
Both of these works explore different connotations of terrorism and forces you to reevaluate exactly who is the terrorist, and exactly who is the victim. In a complex world, can the categories ever be so black and white? That is for each and everyone of us to decide. We are reminded that we should constantly strive to become better people, and that starts with remembering our common humanity. As for myself, I can only say that these works have changed my life, especially V for Vendetta. That sounds so clichéd, but I say that with conviction. There are movies whose sole purpose is to enteratin, but not these - you walk out of these a changed person, even if just a little.
thus spake merserene on March 26, 2006 20:02 |
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file under world of cinema
Yes, I did make it to the opera!
Program above. Flaming red pants in the back. Black V-neck top, blush, lipstick, favorite evening perfume, and necklace/earring set. Forgot to include my binoculars in there, too.
I love an excuse to play dress up, though it turned out that some people really went all out! There were fancy evening dresses, fur, tuxes, etc., though my friend S spotted some professors in Birkenstocks. Didn't feel so bad after hearing that.
More importantly, it was a lot of fun, being a comedy and all. Folks who may not be familiar with the opera may nevertheless recognize some familiar passages because they're just so famous...and I was reminded that Bugs Bunny cartoons had spoofed The Barber of Seville once. Figaro was fantastic, as well as the one who played Bartolo, but Count Almaviva could be a bit stronger. I think the tenor is fairly young, though, plus he was standing in for someone else, so that might have been the reason. The soprano who sang Rosina was pretty good, though a lot older than Rosina is supposed to be.
Apparently, they had to move the venue to an auditorium closer to me because the usual place of performance was heavily damaged by water, and the city hasn't gotten around to fix it yet. It sucks, but luckier for me, I wouldn't have been able to see it if it hadn't moved.
thus spake merserene on March 25, 2006 11:13 |
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file under eye candy, listening
Should I shell out $35 for The Barber of Seville tonight? It's being produced by the city's opera association. Prices are a bit steep for my cheapo student budget but I am in dire need of a dose of culture.
And really, the arias they had blasting out of the speakers in front of the auditorium reminded me that I miss listening to opera. Plus, I've never seen The Barber of Seville before, and it's one of the most famous out there.
Maybe I will. It can be part of my contribution to the city.
thus spake merserene on March 23, 2006 12:03 |
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file under listening
It's lunch time and I'm hungry, but I can't really fix myself anything to eat because there is no water in my building. They've shut off the water to repair a very leaky fire hydrant just around the corner, I presume. That thing created a flood, so I'm glad to see them do something about it. But it means I can't wash my hands to prepare my food...and I just can't start eating thinking my hands are dirty. Is that a bit OCD?
I was looking forward to a shower, too. Well, at least my bathtub faucet is not leaking for the first time in 6 months!
Perhaps I should have stayed on campus. It is a beautiful day outside.
thus spake merserene on March 21, 2006 11:07 |
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file under living
Once again I should be asleep, but this time, I was drawn to the artistic prowess of bowerbirds. (I love PBS, and I love NOVA.)
Bowerbirds are found across Australia and Papua New Guinea. They are the most noted for the bowers the males build to attract the females. Bowers are not nests; rather, they're bird architecture, akin to beautiful pathways, gardens, villas - whatever your fancy - that house or lead to pieces of colorful "jewels," each strategically and carefully placed to get the females' attention. Male bowerbirds devote their entire time to perfecting and decorating their bowers, often arranging and rearranging pieces within their bowers, with the sole purpose of attracting females to mate, but they do not participate in any child-rearing or feeding. The most simple bowers are U-shaped structures constructed of twigs, in the middle of which are avenues that lead to bits and pieces of decoration, while the most complex ones look like huts, supported by beams, and shelter enormous amounts of color-cooridnated bits of nature.
The color choice and arrangement is particular to each bird; while one may be drawn to bright orange flowers and shiny black beetle shells, another may fancy fresh green lichen and red caterpillar droppings, and yet another may appreciate beige white bones and molted cicada shells. Where nature meets the advances of mankind, bowerbirds have picked up various things to use in their bowers - plastic kids' toys, if you build your bower near a school; camouflage green water bottle caps, if you happen to be close to a military base; or white marble chips, if you're a bowerbird living in a certain cemetary in Townsville.
As there are many different species, the bowers vary in complexity. What seems to be the case, however, is that the more colorful a bowerbirds' plumage, the less impressive its bower seems to be. Sometimes, their color choices make a whole lot of sense. The satin bowerbird, for example, is a stunning beautiful navy blue; in turn it loves to pick up bright blue berries as decorations, since the females seem to be attracted to their plumage anyway.
After they manage to get the females' attention, several species like to play coy and do a bit of hide and seek before showing themselves to the females. Others go on high speed chases before the pairs go off, literally, into the bushes. While they are off, however, neighboring bowerbirds often come by to steal pieces of treasure or even to vandalize a bower. They gather the best for their own artwork, but also make sure that while the other guy is busy repairing the damages, new females will stroll by their bowers instead.
Not only are these birds extraordinary to watch, they are fascinating in that their behavior reminds me so much of our own. The females don't go for the strongest, the largest, or even the most fertile, but are instead distracted by all the bling bling, if you will - who has the most toys, who gathers the most flowers, and who creates the most eye-catching contraption. Only then do the females size up the male birds and decide if they'd like to go off for some lovin'. Except, male bowerbirds are all excellent exterior and interior decorators...a trait that's probably missing in a lot of men.
I giggled, laughed, and aww'ed my way through the program. PBS entitled it the "Flying Casanovas." Very much worth your hour, if you can catch it.
thus spake merserene on March 19, 2006 01:33 |
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file under watching
March Madness? No comprendo. People go so nuts over sports that during certain seasons, it's all they ever talk about. Football, baseball, right now basketball...all foreign languages to me, but no desire to learn.
People rarely get so excited about books. Or academic pursuits in general.
If only.
thus spake merserene on March 18, 2006 14:29 |
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file under oh no you didnt
My organization had a little study break this evening, and as per usual, we provided food and drinks. It would've been an opportunity to grab some dinner and to chit chat a bit before heading back to the books.
A girl showed up with her friends, but decided to bail out to go to the gym. "I can't stay to eat," she said in Chinese, "I've gained a kilo and I need to lose the weight!"
Goodness. To me, she had the body of a 12 year old who hasn't yet hit puberty. Very skinny by my standards. Perhaps my standard is the problem...
Fast forward. 40 minutes.
We've sat around for a bit, ate some food and drank some drinks. Some girls came in the room to set up for their organization's event. We had all be conversing in English, when the guy beside me turned to me and said in Chinese, "Why do American girls all have their stomachs hanging out like that? They all look pregnant."
I turned to look at who he was talking about, expecting to see a girl maybe with some skin hanging out of a shirt that's too short, but all I saw was someone who had a bit of a tummy. Just like me. replied, perhaps just a tad snappily, "It's because Asian girls are all way too thin!"
Pause.
There were definitely several generalizations up there. Not always true, but the conversation could've gone no other way given the pregnant (heh heh) cultural expectations and social contexts. Let me lay 'em out -
1. Most Asian girls are painfully skinny by American standards. I'm talking about Far East Asians, especially ones have lived in Asia most of their lives. Size 0? Probably too big. Try shopping in the junior section. No joke. I did that many times, even after hitting adulthood.
2. Most American girls, even if skinny, are "fat" by Asian standards. I know this too, because I've become "fat." No, to some people, I've been fat all my life. To others, I'm small and petite.
3. Given the regional norms, I can't really blame the guy for asking such a question. Rude and even offensive, but I do believe he asked because he was truly puzzled, not used to seeing certain body types, and not because he was malicious.
All I could think of was, thank goodness he hadn't noticed my tummy. Otherwise he wouldn't have asked me that question. Oh, and thank goodness he decided to ask me instead of someone else who may not understand. But I, being Westernized and all, blurted out the first thing that came to my mind, though not without years of forethought. That made him quiet.
Child-bearing hips sound so desirable from a scientific/genetic perspective, but it's a curse for young, curvy Asian women. Seriously. In addition to the usual growing pains of adolescence, it was hard to hear that you need to lose weight because you're chubbier than your mother (who has consistently weighed around 100 pounds). It was harsher hearing rumors that Asian boys your age judged you by how fat "you must be" because you have the so-called "radish legs." Most days though, you didn't need any verbal reminders. Just looking at how small and skinny all the Asian women are makes you think you're a whale.
Not anymore.
Sure, I can stand to lose 10 pounds, but I'm not obese. I am not even overweight and am within my BMI. The reality is that many Asians are going to see me as a fat person, but I no longer let that bother me (unless they say it to my face or act shocked). It's tough to have a whole group of your own people essentially pronouncing you guilty for being who you are. It took me a long, long time to feel comfortable with myself and to love my body for what it is, even if it did take most of my life and some crazy dieting along the way to reach this point. I know where I stand, and I am not going to let anyone's comments or opinions bring me down. Size really is just a number. Besides, there is something quite wrong with the whole system if my one and only behind can fit into anything from a 2 to an 8. All at the same time, depending on the maker.
It's not me. It's them!
thus spake merserene on March 16, 2006 22:03 |
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file under oh no you didnt, cultural differences
Feeling a little nostalgic. A picture of the Grand Hotel, one of the most famous in Taiwan, and not far from where I grew up. 
thus spake merserene on March 15, 2006 23:24 |
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file under eye candy
