Sorry about the lack of substantive posting. But, you know, not a whole lot to report. Jamie and I have been sticking close to the homefront, and not much has been going on.
Mer B.
Facebook is a strange and funny place. Thanks to Facebook, I think Jamie's circle of high school pals is having an impromptu reunion of some sort this fall.
But, I am not without people who once liked me.
This evening an old High School Chum called. For those of you KOHS folks, it was Meredith B., now married and still a Meredith B. Mer sounds great, and it was fantastic to catch up with her. And, yes, she'd found me on Facebook.
In high school I adored Meredith. She was smart, funny and if you were looking for someone to make spot on observational snark, she was your gal. We were in drama together, and were in plays from "The Crucible", to "All My Sons". And she a good actor, too, if I recall.
Meredith's moment of "the show must go on" took place when, in the middle of a show, she was supposed to be breaking ice with an ice pick and neatly stabbed her hand, just above the thumb. Meredith, being Meredith, just stuck her hand in the ice to slow the bleeding and then carried on the scene and then the play. Just one of many, many reasons why I tip my hat to the lady.
She's now in N. Carolina, married to a great guy and mother to three boys. My, how life marches on.
Bagging and Boarding
As for me:
I've been bagging, boarding, boxing and inventorying about 8-9 months worth of comics. Not all bad, but a little tedious. I've also set aside a stack of comics I've decided not to keep in the collection. Not bad stuff, just... it doesn't need to disappear into the closet in a polybag. I can share the wealth, if anyone wants me to send them some comics.
I'm increasingly of the opinion that I need to find a process for shedding some of the stuff I like reading, but won't ever return to. I will want to hang onto Action Comics and Superman, but the stack of Fantastic Four and Black Panther? A good read, sure... but I'm just not all that attached.
I am increasingly more pleased with my Superman comic collection, but its also true that it is a teeny, tiny fraction of the total published Superman comics over the years. There's just so much out there. And so little of it in reprint. With back-issues costing more than a new comic, my purchase of the back issues has to be managed. Lest Ryan go broke and crazy.
Still, it makes it a hobby, I suppose. If I could get my hands on all that stuff easily, what would be the fun?
Web Comics
Which makes me really, really wish Marvel and DC would get their @#$% together on the whole digital comics thing. How wasteful is it to have trees cut down and pulped, paper printed (using noxious chemicals), shipped (using fuel), and taking up space on a shelf, shoved in a plastic bag to take home, and then read in about fifteen minutes or less? And for obsessive guys like me, a ploybag and board?
Digital comics, DC and Marvel. Oh, I'll still pick up my paper copies of my collector titles (Superman, GL, Batman, Wonder Woman, etc...). And I might still pick up trade collections of series that were really good which I'd read online.
I want to love you, monthly installments, but you're killing the earth. You'd be cheaper if you had no physical form until I say you do. I do wonder what the tipping point would be for DC and Marvel before the cost of printing was high enough, and the cost of shipping impacted cost enough that retailers couldn't move the product...?
I wonder how strong web comics proponents (like Lea Hernandez) foresee the whole web-comics thing, if and when it plays out, affecting retailers?
I'm not trying to put the Direct Market out of business. That certainly seems like it would be an unintended side-effect. But I also wonder, if the cost were right, how that might affect the number of actual readers per comic.
Keep in mind, comics used to be shared and traded by kids, so the publishers saw only the profit of one purchase to something like 5-10 actual readers.
I'm just saying.
Ub Iwerks
Also watched a really good documentary on Walt Disney collaborator Ub Iwerks I recorded off Ovation, The Hand Behind the Mouse: The Ub Iwerks Story. If you don't know who Ub Iwerks is/ was, I highly recommend reading up on the man. His contribution to animation is incalculable, and he later turned that same genius to film technology.
The documentary is well done, but seems cleaned up by Disney to make the history fit a little better into Disney's version of things ( I believe they produced or released the doc).
Anyhow, I'm going to be looking at those DVD collections of really inexpensive cartoons to see if they have any of the Iwerks non-Disney cartoons available.
Read here
and here
and here
Completely inappropriate Superman link
Whatever you do, do not click through to read the following article. Especially you, Mom. DO NOT CLICK THROUGH. DO SO AT YOUR PERIL.
Sent, of course, by Randy.
Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Friday, May 02, 2008
Everyone in their right place
Yesterday, Jamie and I went to see the new Tina Fey/ Amy Poehler movie: Baby Mama
I'm a fan of 30 Rock, and I've liked Poehler on SNL. Plus it was better than cleaning my office, which is what I was doing.
When your criteria for seeing a movie includes: zombies, robots, gorillas, superheroes, spaceships or no small amount of kung-foolery, you don't always get a peek at what else is out there. And as the trailer for "The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants 2" rolled up onto the screen, I came to the conclusion that "Baby Mama" was not aimed at the sci-fi/ kung-fu audience, and I might have a very long two hours ahead of me.
The good I can report: Baby Mama was, at least, a bit funny. It's a renter, or maybe something to watch on cable. Maybe a matinee, if you're really dead-set against Iron Man.
But one of the trailers they showed was the trailer for American Teen.
This documentary is about four white, suburban kids in middle-America who are in high school. So I'm trying to figure out what the movie is actually about.
The trailer uses the Breakfast Club stereotypes for each of the subjects, and, I would assume, is going to break down those stereotypes over the course of a year/ two hours as we learn about what makes these kids tic.
Perhaps fifteen year ago, this might have been a bit novel. The trailer suggests its about the heartache and romance of being young and just beginning your life, but after TV expanded to 200 channels of reality-based programming and the WB's five nights a week of teen-angst soap operas, and MTV went all-high-schooler inc ontent as well as audience... Add in teh fact that every single person over the age of 18 went through high school, so been there, done that... I'm trying to figure out what's there to draw me in.
Two things I find peculiar:
1) The trailer's insistence on framing this in a "Breakfast Club" sort of manner. Really, the only time "Breakfast Club" seemed like an accurate depiction of high school was when I saw it in middle school and had not yet been to high school (but was trying to figure out what it was going to be like). Somehow, we didn't all wind up in Saturday suspension, all surprising ourselves by learning a little more about ourselves and a lot about each other.
I don't recall people in high school actually believing in much in the way of the classic high school breakdowns of nerds, jocks, what-have-you. And its not just because I was completely unobservant.
2) Why do these kids in the trailer speak in seemingly scripted language? Has 10 years of reality TV really blurred the line so much that kids know how to alter their language into concise statements to accurately describe their yearnings and inner monologue? I have a lot of hours of of footage of high school on VHS. It's mostly people smiling politely and asking me to turn off the camera.
At best, I'd watch this movie if it showed up on cable pretty late and nothing else was on. Having already done high school, I'm not in a rush to relive the experience. It wasn't that great when I was there the first time around. And I assume that's the point.
We've all been to high school. We all experienced the awkwardness, the unrequited crush, had hopes and dreams and no idea what it means to show up in the same cube every day with a soul-crushing mortgage hanging over your head. Its the last time in your life when the whole world is before you as a blank slate. But its also the time when you're too dumb to appreciate where you're at in life. Youth is wasted on the young.
The interstitial text in the trailer makes it pretty clear that they're counting on the nostalgia of the viewer to get them in the theater. And I assume the marketing is inline with the intention of the movie, so... I guess they're counting on the audience really missing those halcyon days.
Do the kids see themselves as the jock? The rebel? Aren't those tags a little embarrassing, even as a starting point? Or have decades of teen movies, TV shows and whatnot just placed an artificial expectation and self-fulfilling prophecy for kids before they ever hit the high school. Moreover, what are we really getting when we're getting the kids who volunteered to have a camera follow them around for a year. I know I'd have been mortified. I assume most of the kids I knew wouldn't have leaped at a chance to have a camera there at prom, running around town, etc...
Moreover, how well do these roles translate to non-whitebread students in areas and schools that aren't just a bunch of middle-class kids filling their seemingly pre-destined roles? I have no idea. But that's a movie I might find a bit more interesting.
I'm a fan of 30 Rock, and I've liked Poehler on SNL. Plus it was better than cleaning my office, which is what I was doing.
When your criteria for seeing a movie includes: zombies, robots, gorillas, superheroes, spaceships or no small amount of kung-foolery, you don't always get a peek at what else is out there. And as the trailer for "The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants 2" rolled up onto the screen, I came to the conclusion that "Baby Mama" was not aimed at the sci-fi/ kung-fu audience, and I might have a very long two hours ahead of me.
The good I can report: Baby Mama was, at least, a bit funny. It's a renter, or maybe something to watch on cable. Maybe a matinee, if you're really dead-set against Iron Man.
But one of the trailers they showed was the trailer for American Teen.
This documentary is about four white, suburban kids in middle-America who are in high school. So I'm trying to figure out what the movie is actually about.
The trailer uses the Breakfast Club stereotypes for each of the subjects, and, I would assume, is going to break down those stereotypes over the course of a year/ two hours as we learn about what makes these kids tic.
Perhaps fifteen year ago, this might have been a bit novel. The trailer suggests its about the heartache and romance of being young and just beginning your life, but after TV expanded to 200 channels of reality-based programming and the WB's five nights a week of teen-angst soap operas, and MTV went all-high-schooler inc ontent as well as audience... Add in teh fact that every single person over the age of 18 went through high school, so been there, done that... I'm trying to figure out what's there to draw me in.
Two things I find peculiar:
1) The trailer's insistence on framing this in a "Breakfast Club" sort of manner. Really, the only time "Breakfast Club" seemed like an accurate depiction of high school was when I saw it in middle school and had not yet been to high school (but was trying to figure out what it was going to be like). Somehow, we didn't all wind up in Saturday suspension, all surprising ourselves by learning a little more about ourselves and a lot about each other.
I don't recall people in high school actually believing in much in the way of the classic high school breakdowns of nerds, jocks, what-have-you. And its not just because I was completely unobservant.
2) Why do these kids in the trailer speak in seemingly scripted language? Has 10 years of reality TV really blurred the line so much that kids know how to alter their language into concise statements to accurately describe their yearnings and inner monologue? I have a lot of hours of of footage of high school on VHS. It's mostly people smiling politely and asking me to turn off the camera.
At best, I'd watch this movie if it showed up on cable pretty late and nothing else was on. Having already done high school, I'm not in a rush to relive the experience. It wasn't that great when I was there the first time around. And I assume that's the point.
We've all been to high school. We all experienced the awkwardness, the unrequited crush, had hopes and dreams and no idea what it means to show up in the same cube every day with a soul-crushing mortgage hanging over your head. Its the last time in your life when the whole world is before you as a blank slate. But its also the time when you're too dumb to appreciate where you're at in life. Youth is wasted on the young.
The interstitial text in the trailer makes it pretty clear that they're counting on the nostalgia of the viewer to get them in the theater. And I assume the marketing is inline with the intention of the movie, so... I guess they're counting on the audience really missing those halcyon days.
Do the kids see themselves as the jock? The rebel? Aren't those tags a little embarrassing, even as a starting point? Or have decades of teen movies, TV shows and whatnot just placed an artificial expectation and self-fulfilling prophecy for kids before they ever hit the high school. Moreover, what are we really getting when we're getting the kids who volunteered to have a camera follow them around for a year. I know I'd have been mortified. I assume most of the kids I knew wouldn't have leaped at a chance to have a camera there at prom, running around town, etc...
Moreover, how well do these roles translate to non-whitebread students in areas and schools that aren't just a bunch of middle-class kids filling their seemingly pre-destined roles? I have no idea. But that's a movie I might find a bit more interesting.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Science Fair
I hated Science Fair. It was time consuming, expensive, and if I hadn't known exactly what was going to happen, I wouldn't have performed the experiment at all.
The first time I ever had to do Science Fair was 1990ish, in 9th grade. Somehow my middle school allowed us to dodge that particular bullet. High School was not so kind.
A few years before me, Jason had been asked to do a science fair experiment, and, being Jason, had gone to the World Book Encyclopedia and looked up "Science Fair". Or "Biology". I can't remember which. Anyhoo... detailed in the Encyclopedia was a complete description of a science fair experiment, right down to results.
So that's what Jason did.
So, knowing most science teachers see, literally, hundreds of science fair projects, when I was in 9th grade and had to do science fair, I figured... why reinvent the wheel?
I bought, I think, eight mason jars, a handful of water snails, a handful of plants and proceeded to slowly kill off a whole lot of plants and snails. PETA would not be pleased. I was pretty diligent about the snails for the first part of the experiment, but, honestly, forgot to look at them at all for the last week or two. By the time I returned to the snails, there was at least one jar that was nothing but browninsh, brackish water with snail parts and shells sloshing around.
Panicked, I realized I better fake some results. So between some coaching from Jason, some intuition and basic accounting for randomness in my results, I faked the slow trudge toward death of a few jars of snails deprived of plants, and therefore, 02 in their water. Essentially, all of my data was fiction. Or, dare I say? Science-Fair-Fiction?
What I did not take into account was how heavy it was going to be bringing in eight mason jars filled with water and snail carcases, plus the huge wooden board thing I'd spent a Saturday afternoon crafting in the garage. Do they even let kids get spray paint anymore?
I was, honestly, completely disinterested in my own project, and I resented how heavy it wound up being. This was nowhere near as fun as the time I had built a scale model of Stone Henge in 5th grade, or the castle with the working drawbridge in 6th grade (thanks, Dad!). When they asked us to take home our projects, I remember pondering the weight of the jars and the backing board and my ability to transport them all on the bus ride, plus the uphill two block walk from the bus stop. Also, the smell that would come from the bottles if a single bottle broke. By now all of the snails had passed the pearly gates for gastropods.
"What if we don't want our project back?"
"You have to take them home."
"You don't want it? Some kid next year might want it."
"No. Take it home."
"What am I going to do with a science fair board and eight jars of dead snails?"
"Ryan, take it home."
"What if I don't?"
"Then someone will probably throw it away."
It is safe to say that the lesson I learned from Science Fair was not the lesson I was supposed to learn.
In 10th grade, I moved to a new school and wound up having to take biology with freshmen, and I was really, just... not... very... involved. Mr. Bryant was awesome as a teacher, but I was far more interested in Swamp Thing, X-Men and whatever monologue Jeff Wilser and I moght cook up for the worms we were dissecting. Plus, I just didn't get out in front of the project in time.
I wound up doing some half-baked project on how and why people lie, and got back about 100 surveys. Not much of a sample, but apparently my report was good enough for at least a B+, because I don't remember being dissatisfied with my mark, and it most certainly would have affected my 6-week grade as well.
I do recall Lee in my 9th grade class had simply forgotten to do a science fair project, which led to, possibly, the greatest science fair project of all time. A 1/2 page, hand-written report called "Black Holes: Who cares? I don't."
It had to do with things really, really sucking. Like his grade.
I did not ever get my snails into a science fair contest, so I was spared that humiliation. I barely ever understood what I was doing from ages 8-19, anyway, so I can only imagine what that experience would have been like, being quizzed on my wholesale starvation and asphyxiation of snails.
Why this trip down memory lane?
This is why.
The first time I ever had to do Science Fair was 1990ish, in 9th grade. Somehow my middle school allowed us to dodge that particular bullet. High School was not so kind.
A few years before me, Jason had been asked to do a science fair experiment, and, being Jason, had gone to the World Book Encyclopedia and looked up "Science Fair". Or "Biology". I can't remember which. Anyhoo... detailed in the Encyclopedia was a complete description of a science fair experiment, right down to results.
So that's what Jason did.
So, knowing most science teachers see, literally, hundreds of science fair projects, when I was in 9th grade and had to do science fair, I figured... why reinvent the wheel?
I bought, I think, eight mason jars, a handful of water snails, a handful of plants and proceeded to slowly kill off a whole lot of plants and snails. PETA would not be pleased. I was pretty diligent about the snails for the first part of the experiment, but, honestly, forgot to look at them at all for the last week or two. By the time I returned to the snails, there was at least one jar that was nothing but browninsh, brackish water with snail parts and shells sloshing around.
Panicked, I realized I better fake some results. So between some coaching from Jason, some intuition and basic accounting for randomness in my results, I faked the slow trudge toward death of a few jars of snails deprived of plants, and therefore, 02 in their water. Essentially, all of my data was fiction. Or, dare I say? Science-Fair-Fiction?
What I did not take into account was how heavy it was going to be bringing in eight mason jars filled with water and snail carcases, plus the huge wooden board thing I'd spent a Saturday afternoon crafting in the garage. Do they even let kids get spray paint anymore?
I was, honestly, completely disinterested in my own project, and I resented how heavy it wound up being. This was nowhere near as fun as the time I had built a scale model of Stone Henge in 5th grade, or the castle with the working drawbridge in 6th grade (thanks, Dad!). When they asked us to take home our projects, I remember pondering the weight of the jars and the backing board and my ability to transport them all on the bus ride, plus the uphill two block walk from the bus stop. Also, the smell that would come from the bottles if a single bottle broke. By now all of the snails had passed the pearly gates for gastropods.
"What if we don't want our project back?"
"You have to take them home."
"You don't want it? Some kid next year might want it."
"No. Take it home."
"What am I going to do with a science fair board and eight jars of dead snails?"
"Ryan, take it home."
"What if I don't?"
"Then someone will probably throw it away."
It is safe to say that the lesson I learned from Science Fair was not the lesson I was supposed to learn.
In 10th grade, I moved to a new school and wound up having to take biology with freshmen, and I was really, just... not... very... involved. Mr. Bryant was awesome as a teacher, but I was far more interested in Swamp Thing, X-Men and whatever monologue Jeff Wilser and I moght cook up for the worms we were dissecting. Plus, I just didn't get out in front of the project in time.
I wound up doing some half-baked project on how and why people lie, and got back about 100 surveys. Not much of a sample, but apparently my report was good enough for at least a B+, because I don't remember being dissatisfied with my mark, and it most certainly would have affected my 6-week grade as well.
I do recall Lee in my 9th grade class had simply forgotten to do a science fair project, which led to, possibly, the greatest science fair project of all time. A 1/2 page, hand-written report called "Black Holes: Who cares? I don't."
It had to do with things really, really sucking. Like his grade.
I did not ever get my snails into a science fair contest, so I was spared that humiliation. I barely ever understood what I was doing from ages 8-19, anyway, so I can only imagine what that experience would have been like, being quizzed on my wholesale starvation and asphyxiation of snails.
Why this trip down memory lane?
This is why.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Man to Ape
In the wee hours of Saturday's festivities, I made a passing remark that my high school hadn't done much to teach evolution and that my knowledge of the process came from college. What was intended to be a remark upon the value of higher education was, unfortunately, taken as an indictment of public education, especially an education from a school with local political considerations which may have played more than a small part in the discussion.
a school where I might have actually paid attention. Or paid for it with my life.
It's worth noting that I had only a passing interest in the sciences until my senior year of high school. It may be worth noting that I had mostly only a passing interest in high school. I was far more interested in skating through courses like biology than killing myself for an A+. I was too busy reading comics, worrying about art class and English, playing basketball, trying out for plays, trying to start a lacrosse team and trying to go to shows to care much one way or another about what sort of education I was getting in high school biology. At the time, I assumed most public high schools taught basically the same things, and didn't really know what I didn't know... so it didn't seem at all like a big deal.
A fairly normal track at Westwood, the first high-school I'd attended, was to take a basic intro to science course as a Freshman, biology as a sophomore, chemistry as a junior and physics as a senior. Tucked in there were other science offerings such as anatomy, bio 2 (which KOHS also offered), and a few other options.
So it was that when I moved from Austin to Spring between my Freshman and Sophomore years I was lumped into the honors science track and took biology with a herd of freshmen. That year Jeff Wilser and I dissected worms, frogs, squid, a fetal pig and I spent most of the year wondering how what I learned from The Swamp Thing and X-Men applied to what I was learning in class. And I frequently asked questions about the Swamp Thing and the likelihood of humanity ever shooting beams from their eyes.
Apparently, not going to happen.
I received few answers which I found satisfactory as to how a plant could take on the consciousness of a biologist as he lay dying in a swamp, but my instructor was patient and I felt like I had a pretty good feeling as to the difference between the innards of a pig and a worm by the end of the year. That, really, had been our focus, after all. Anatomy, eco-systems, and how far we could push our teacher without getting bounced out of class seemed to be more than enough to fill a year.
We had, in the spring, covered Mendel Squares and there had been mention of evolution as a part of our year. I believe terms like "natural selection" had been bandied about, and looking at if you could curl your tongue or which direction a hair swirl would go as an inherited trait. But, really, that was about it as far as I can recall.
I had a subscription to National Geographic, read comics about mutants (which had about the exact grasp on science as one would expect of a comic where a man can cover himself in ice and not die of hypothermia), owned a set of Encyclopedias, watched Nova on occasion and National Geographic Explorer, so I knew of Darwin. I had heard of the Beagle, knew that mutations occurred between generations, and that was the basic mechanism for the present state of the world's biodiversity, in the snap-shot view of the modern human (with an historical record).
What was not covered, as I can recall, was much about Darwin himself, nor was Darwinism heavily emphasized in our lessons. The focus, in retrospect, was more upon genetic traits and inheritance than on the advantage of a larger beak to eat a different sort of nut. Whether Darwinism was deemed beyond the scope of a basic biology class, I don't know. Or whether a political decision had been made by our creaky school board and Superintendent (who was, I think, 147 at the time), I have no clue.
But I have my suspicions.
In college I was more interested in geology than I was biology, but as these things tend to do, some of my courses began to intersect. Age of the Dinosaurs was, for some odd reason, placed under geology. I was hoping for a course that would teach me about gigantic pre-historic eating machines, and that was absolutely part of the curriculum. These teachers were no fools. But it was also about the progression of life and the minute changes of anatomy that work as an advantage in a dino-eat-dino world. Further, with a fairly clear way to read the fossil record through radioactive decay and soil layering, the picture was logical and clear.
I also took UT's Bio-for-Dummies, or biology for those of us not planning a career in a lab coat or herding lab rats. Here, the angle of biology was inverted from the broad-based/ Marlin Perkins world of Biology I'd poured over in high school. It was DNA and RNA sequences, bio-diversity on a microcosmic scale, spreading outward through non-random splitting and re-splitting, and the cause of mutation becoming abundantly, pointedly clear. Moreover, our instructor was a retired UT prof who had grown bored and returned as an adjunct. He was passionate about the topics he taught in a way I think must have come out of having that year or two of retirement to live in his own head, with no pressing publishing dates to worry about, and deciding that he'd spend the years that were supposed to be for him making sure 18-22 year olds knew how the hell a cell replicated itself and what that meant for each and every one of us.
Also, he intoned, beware of pseudo-science. Beware of the folks coming at you with an agenda that goes beyond mitochondria and gene sequencing. Heed the tenets of the scientific method, and understand the difference between hypothesis, theory and fact.
For a student, who wasn't much of a student, but who was looking for tools with which to observe and understand the world around him, the course had a tremendous impact.
In my final semesters at UT, I was able to take Physical Anthroplogy, and, again, as these courses tend to do when you've landed in your fifth year of undergraduate education, just as one sees patterns in history course after history course, and learns to make those connections that come with a more detailed approach to education than the "drink from the firehose" of the first year or so, there it was again. My own body was being detailed in its change from large-mandibled anthromorphs to protein hungry tool users. DNA and RNA sequences slowly, gradually changing.
And the knowledge that it wasn't so much that one species was some high-evolutionary (after all, leave you alone with a hungry puma and see who wins in that scenario), but that its been an advantage to be able to build wheels and spears. And the slow, gradual change over millenia was a beautiful thing, in its way.
I don't take what I learned in college for granted. Or I try not to. I was not a great student, and I doubt most of my instructors would remember me (while I suspect my high school biology instructor would probably remember me for reasons other than my raw genius).
Like a lot of folks, I don't see evolution as a matter of belief, unless you want to reduce trust in academia to some form of faith. Instead, it is a matter of observation and understanding. Part of that understanding is that, while the data is massive, should reliable data begin to move science in another direction, understanding why and how observations have produced a new hypothesis or theory.
Biologists, anatomists and scientists do not have answers to every question or unexplained phenomena in the pattern of evolution, nor do they claim to. When new and contrary evidence shows up, it's not a challenge to destroy the whole image, but an opportunity to re-evaluate what the scientific community believes it knows.
For me, while I've never been a lab-coat kind of guy, it's been a method I understand and can appreciate. It's given way to understanding how science can move forward, and in its simplicity, its something us non-scientists can embrace as a method for our own observations.
I'm not sure what the point was to this post, other than a nostalgic trip down academic memory lane. I've often regretted my own lack of more rigid academic pursuits in the sciences, though I suspect my near inability to deal with any math beyond trigonometry would have probably been a bit of an issue.
The world is a lovely place, and viewing it through the lens of what few scraps of information I was able to pick up in school only makes it all the more of an amazing universe in which we dwell.
a school where I might have actually paid attention. Or paid for it with my life.
It's worth noting that I had only a passing interest in the sciences until my senior year of high school. It may be worth noting that I had mostly only a passing interest in high school. I was far more interested in skating through courses like biology than killing myself for an A+. I was too busy reading comics, worrying about art class and English, playing basketball, trying out for plays, trying to start a lacrosse team and trying to go to shows to care much one way or another about what sort of education I was getting in high school biology. At the time, I assumed most public high schools taught basically the same things, and didn't really know what I didn't know... so it didn't seem at all like a big deal.
A fairly normal track at Westwood, the first high-school I'd attended, was to take a basic intro to science course as a Freshman, biology as a sophomore, chemistry as a junior and physics as a senior. Tucked in there were other science offerings such as anatomy, bio 2 (which KOHS also offered), and a few other options.
So it was that when I moved from Austin to Spring between my Freshman and Sophomore years I was lumped into the honors science track and took biology with a herd of freshmen. That year Jeff Wilser and I dissected worms, frogs, squid, a fetal pig and I spent most of the year wondering how what I learned from The Swamp Thing and X-Men applied to what I was learning in class. And I frequently asked questions about the Swamp Thing and the likelihood of humanity ever shooting beams from their eyes.
Apparently, not going to happen.
I received few answers which I found satisfactory as to how a plant could take on the consciousness of a biologist as he lay dying in a swamp, but my instructor was patient and I felt like I had a pretty good feeling as to the difference between the innards of a pig and a worm by the end of the year. That, really, had been our focus, after all. Anatomy, eco-systems, and how far we could push our teacher without getting bounced out of class seemed to be more than enough to fill a year.
We had, in the spring, covered Mendel Squares and there had been mention of evolution as a part of our year. I believe terms like "natural selection" had been bandied about, and looking at if you could curl your tongue or which direction a hair swirl would go as an inherited trait. But, really, that was about it as far as I can recall.
I had a subscription to National Geographic, read comics about mutants (which had about the exact grasp on science as one would expect of a comic where a man can cover himself in ice and not die of hypothermia), owned a set of Encyclopedias, watched Nova on occasion and National Geographic Explorer, so I knew of Darwin. I had heard of the Beagle, knew that mutations occurred between generations, and that was the basic mechanism for the present state of the world's biodiversity, in the snap-shot view of the modern human (with an historical record).
What was not covered, as I can recall, was much about Darwin himself, nor was Darwinism heavily emphasized in our lessons. The focus, in retrospect, was more upon genetic traits and inheritance than on the advantage of a larger beak to eat a different sort of nut. Whether Darwinism was deemed beyond the scope of a basic biology class, I don't know. Or whether a political decision had been made by our creaky school board and Superintendent (who was, I think, 147 at the time), I have no clue.
But I have my suspicions.
In college I was more interested in geology than I was biology, but as these things tend to do, some of my courses began to intersect. Age of the Dinosaurs was, for some odd reason, placed under geology. I was hoping for a course that would teach me about gigantic pre-historic eating machines, and that was absolutely part of the curriculum. These teachers were no fools. But it was also about the progression of life and the minute changes of anatomy that work as an advantage in a dino-eat-dino world. Further, with a fairly clear way to read the fossil record through radioactive decay and soil layering, the picture was logical and clear.
I also took UT's Bio-for-Dummies, or biology for those of us not planning a career in a lab coat or herding lab rats. Here, the angle of biology was inverted from the broad-based/ Marlin Perkins world of Biology I'd poured over in high school. It was DNA and RNA sequences, bio-diversity on a microcosmic scale, spreading outward through non-random splitting and re-splitting, and the cause of mutation becoming abundantly, pointedly clear. Moreover, our instructor was a retired UT prof who had grown bored and returned as an adjunct. He was passionate about the topics he taught in a way I think must have come out of having that year or two of retirement to live in his own head, with no pressing publishing dates to worry about, and deciding that he'd spend the years that were supposed to be for him making sure 18-22 year olds knew how the hell a cell replicated itself and what that meant for each and every one of us.
Also, he intoned, beware of pseudo-science. Beware of the folks coming at you with an agenda that goes beyond mitochondria and gene sequencing. Heed the tenets of the scientific method, and understand the difference between hypothesis, theory and fact.
For a student, who wasn't much of a student, but who was looking for tools with which to observe and understand the world around him, the course had a tremendous impact.
In my final semesters at UT, I was able to take Physical Anthroplogy, and, again, as these courses tend to do when you've landed in your fifth year of undergraduate education, just as one sees patterns in history course after history course, and learns to make those connections that come with a more detailed approach to education than the "drink from the firehose" of the first year or so, there it was again. My own body was being detailed in its change from large-mandibled anthromorphs to protein hungry tool users. DNA and RNA sequences slowly, gradually changing.
And the knowledge that it wasn't so much that one species was some high-evolutionary (after all, leave you alone with a hungry puma and see who wins in that scenario), but that its been an advantage to be able to build wheels and spears. And the slow, gradual change over millenia was a beautiful thing, in its way.
I don't take what I learned in college for granted. Or I try not to. I was not a great student, and I doubt most of my instructors would remember me (while I suspect my high school biology instructor would probably remember me for reasons other than my raw genius).
Like a lot of folks, I don't see evolution as a matter of belief, unless you want to reduce trust in academia to some form of faith. Instead, it is a matter of observation and understanding. Part of that understanding is that, while the data is massive, should reliable data begin to move science in another direction, understanding why and how observations have produced a new hypothesis or theory.
Biologists, anatomists and scientists do not have answers to every question or unexplained phenomena in the pattern of evolution, nor do they claim to. When new and contrary evidence shows up, it's not a challenge to destroy the whole image, but an opportunity to re-evaluate what the scientific community believes it knows.
For me, while I've never been a lab-coat kind of guy, it's been a method I understand and can appreciate. It's given way to understanding how science can move forward, and in its simplicity, its something us non-scientists can embrace as a method for our own observations.
I'm not sure what the point was to this post, other than a nostalgic trip down academic memory lane. I've often regretted my own lack of more rigid academic pursuits in the sciences, though I suspect my near inability to deal with any math beyond trigonometry would have probably been a bit of an issue.
The world is a lovely place, and viewing it through the lens of what few scraps of information I was able to pick up in school only makes it all the more of an amazing universe in which we dwell.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Mission: Judy Morrison
When the League was in high school, he was a fair-to-middlin' student, gaining access to the NHS and all that great stuff. Despite a "C" in Pre-Calc one semester, I was also inducted into the AABBIT society (All A's and B's Because I Try. No, really.)
But we never would have made it through High School Physics if not for our charming lab partner, Judy Morrison.
There are a lot of folks I would like to track down from Klein Oak High School and just see what happened to them. Just to name a few: Travis Breaux. Chris Shaw. Vince. Julie Simmons. Camilla. And Scott Wiser, until I had lunch with him last week. (He's doing great. Thanks for asking. And he has remarkably good hair.)
But for some reason it always comes back to my old lab buddy, Judy.
I think part of that comes from my near-psychotic obsession with trying to entertain people who clearly do not find me remotely amusing. You could juggle three chihuahuas while riding a unicycle and be hard pressed to see Judy crack a smile. To me, that was my license to try all the harder. Who cares about the folks you've already won over? I knew one day I would find a way into Judy's good graces. Alas, our time together was all too brief, and I never did convince Judy I was amazingly great.
Judy was friends with my lady-friend from High School, so I already knew her before Physics I. But it was sitting next to her for a whole year that made me really appreicate Judy's almost misanthropic take on each and every event. I don't know if Judy meant to be funny, so I really hope I was laughing with her.
Also, like our own Denise, Judy worked at the Randall's bakery. Denise really made the little flatcap her own, but Judy never looked very happy to be wearing the hat. Maybe she just didn't like peering over glass pastry displays. We may never know. Denise might provide some insight.
Upon Shannon L-C's request, I took a look for Judy. Turns out the names Judith and Judy Morrison are fairly common when Google is applied. Further, I am sure a fine young lady like Judy Morrison may have married, so she may have taken another name.
So if anyone has any information about what became of Judy Morrison, Klein Oak High, Class of '93, e-mail me. I'd love to know. I know I can win her over this time.
And then we'll hunt down Chris Shaw. That guy borderline despised me.
But we never would have made it through High School Physics if not for our charming lab partner, Judy Morrison.
There are a lot of folks I would like to track down from Klein Oak High School and just see what happened to them. Just to name a few: Travis Breaux. Chris Shaw. Vince. Julie Simmons. Camilla. And Scott Wiser, until I had lunch with him last week. (He's doing great. Thanks for asking. And he has remarkably good hair.)
But for some reason it always comes back to my old lab buddy, Judy.
I think part of that comes from my near-psychotic obsession with trying to entertain people who clearly do not find me remotely amusing. You could juggle three chihuahuas while riding a unicycle and be hard pressed to see Judy crack a smile. To me, that was my license to try all the harder. Who cares about the folks you've already won over? I knew one day I would find a way into Judy's good graces. Alas, our time together was all too brief, and I never did convince Judy I was amazingly great.
Judy was friends with my lady-friend from High School, so I already knew her before Physics I. But it was sitting next to her for a whole year that made me really appreicate Judy's almost misanthropic take on each and every event. I don't know if Judy meant to be funny, so I really hope I was laughing with her.
Also, like our own Denise, Judy worked at the Randall's bakery. Denise really made the little flatcap her own, but Judy never looked very happy to be wearing the hat. Maybe she just didn't like peering over glass pastry displays. We may never know. Denise might provide some insight.
Upon Shannon L-C's request, I took a look for Judy. Turns out the names Judith and Judy Morrison are fairly common when Google is applied. Further, I am sure a fine young lady like Judy Morrison may have married, so she may have taken another name.
So if anyone has any information about what became of Judy Morrison, Klein Oak High, Class of '93, e-mail me. I'd love to know. I know I can win her over this time.
And then we'll hunt down Chris Shaw. That guy borderline despised me.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
wrong
I just took this quiz, based mostly on how inaccurate the last person who took it claimed it was (grammar).
I was IN AP classes. Acing them? Not so much. Further, I was lucky I knew where the computer lab was. The computer class I did take (Micro Computer Applications) turned out to be a vocational class for teaching the future hourly employees of the world how to use a 10-key. (I might add, I was awesome at 10-key).
I was not the only one duped by the title of the course. All of the non-vocational kids would peer over the top of their CRT's at each other, wondering what we were doing in this class which had a description hinting at some cool stuff. But we all became fairly good at Minesweeper, which is what we were told to do when we finished an assignment.
As per success? Oh, yes. It's hard to blog with all these stacks of money falling on my keyboard.
But... the Brainy Kid? I can tell you there were at least 81 kids brainier than me in my class. And they even got a special luncheon.
No, I think I was, and remain, The Bitter Kid.
| Brainy Kid |
 In high school, you were acing AP classes or hanging out in the computer lab. You may have been a bit of a geek back then, but now you're a total success! |
I was IN AP classes. Acing them? Not so much. Further, I was lucky I knew where the computer lab was. The computer class I did take (Micro Computer Applications) turned out to be a vocational class for teaching the future hourly employees of the world how to use a 10-key. (I might add, I was awesome at 10-key).
I was not the only one duped by the title of the course. All of the non-vocational kids would peer over the top of their CRT's at each other, wondering what we were doing in this class which had a description hinting at some cool stuff. But we all became fairly good at Minesweeper, which is what we were told to do when we finished an assignment.
As per success? Oh, yes. It's hard to blog with all these stacks of money falling on my keyboard.
But... the Brainy Kid? I can tell you there were at least 81 kids brainier than me in my class. And they even got a special luncheon.
No, I think I was, and remain, The Bitter Kid.
Monday, December 11, 2006
HIGH SCHOOL MOVIE POST
This evening I watched a movie I was fairly certain I would never see in this lifetime when Jamie unleashed "Mean Girls" from the DVR. This makes it (I believe) three Lindsay Lohan movies I have seen in my life.
I recently read a Time Magazine interview with Frank Portman, the former front-man of 90's alt-punk band "The Mr. T Experience" (and current successful young-adult author of "King Dork") who said something along the lines of "Our entire popular culture's about high school. It's this thing that most people suffered through terribly or like to think they did."
If "Mean Girls" is any indication of the small, untreatable pettiness we're all carrying around, I have little hope for the human race.
Ostensibly, the movie was for tween-girls, or, possibly, teen-age girls. Actually, when I think of some of the content, I hope it was intended for teen-age girls and not those 5-8th grade girls. But, let's be honest, it's the tweens who will buy it on DVD.
The movie came out during the "Hilary Duff is Everywhere" phase of movie-making between 2003 and 2004 (which you may not have noticed, but as there seemed to be two or three of the same movie running at all times at my local cinema, I took note). I think I probably lumped this one in with those movies in my mind. What I DO remember was that adult reviewers were suggesting that, maybe, you know, THIS one was okay... I also recall hearing how this movie was surprisingly good, how the zoological observations of the protagonist reflected the absurdities of American high-school culture, blah blah blah...
The movie is far better than most for the first thirty minutes, then sputters as it falls into a predictable "beat the snob girl at her own game" pattern which these movies seem to thrive on, and, of course, pretty much finds it's denouement by telling not just our protagonist, but every character, to love themself (an unsatisfying message as Tina Fey's character admits aloud that none of these girls seem to have any problems with self-esteem). Tucked in there is a rare shoutout to also love the girl next to you, and I guess that's what they're hoping to sow.
If the first third of the movie seemed to be giving me hope by stealing from anything, the first reel actually seemed to mirror 1989's "Heathers", right up to "the lunch time poll" (which made me wonder aloud if that wasn't a wink and a nod of an homage). In a post-Columbine-era, it's impossible to imagine a film like "Heathers" receiving funding, and it may be best not to consider how many pipe bombs and trench coats Christian Slater may be tangentially responsible for. But in a post-Columbine world, the ending of "Mean Girls"seemed like a cop out. It was far more fluffy bunnies and rainbows, as if there was line the producers finally settled upon which they would not cross before having the guts to be a black comedy. We discover our alt-rock disaffected girl just needed the love of a good Mathlete, and it really is all about how big your ass is in high school, even when the movie is trying to say otherwise.
Aside from a few funny moments (mostly brought by adult players, Tina Fey and Tim Meadows) I didn't find much to latch on to. All of this, in part, because the "high school is hell" model of cumpolsory education doesn't jive terribly well with personal experience.
If Frank Portman is right, and we are all still hung up on a locker-room wedgie or some girl pointing out our acne on the bus ride home, it's a pretty sad indictment of pop culture and culture in general. How many adults are walking around with unresolved vendettas and revenge fantasies that should have been swept up with the mortar boards from the gymnasium floor?
Really? That many?
Wow.
At least in the entertainment industry, I am led to believe it's a hell of a lot of people.
Tina Fey, screenwriter for the project, has dovetailed a bit of the insecurity of her character from this movie with her work on "30 Rock", and one almost wonders about the Jack Donaghy/ Regina George paradigm of Fey's worry about alpha-dogs. Or maybe that's just the well-spring of comedy. I don't know. But she seems hard-wired into the idea of "I was such a geek back then", and "what a loser I am now... despite my success".
These days, I am sadly hard pressed to remember names of teachers, administrators, and especially fellow-students, although a few clues can usually set me straight. I am inclined to remember myself as a "nice guy", but, heck, I don't know. I might just not remember giving some poor freshman noogies everyday, for which, even now, he's plotting his revenge. (Actually, that seems entirely plausible.)
The stuff that sticks out in my mind about that era is how aware I was that because I had not graduated, I was never to be trusted. I do not remember anyone making fun of me (perhaps I was blissfully ignorant), but I have very firm memories of hitting three bathrooms before I found one that was unlocked during a particular potty emergency in English my senior year. When I asked about it, I was told that they always locked the bathrooms on the first floor during periods that coincided with lunchtime, because they'd once caught a kid smoking in the bathroom. So, you know, your bladder be damned.
"Mean Girls" actually has a montage, including the "why do you have to use the restroom?" dilemma of public ed, and this was where I connected. The prison mentality of lowest-common-denominator rule application is a good bit, and is one of the stronger segments in the film. This is the high school that I remember.
Or that you had to leave class and stand in line for twenty minutes in the office to collect a "tardy" pass if you were ten seconds after the bell. Or being told to sell cakes out of a catalog to raise money for prom. Or the monitor refusing to let you go to your locker to get your own textbooks to work on assignments or study, because it was before the first bell (and you could see your locker from where you were standing, and you'd gone to school forty-five minutes early, just for this).
Perhaps "3 O'Clock High" utilized some of the bureaucratic insanity to best advantage, but was that was certainly not the central conflict.
There are high school movies I like. When I was of the right age, and before it was marred by outbreaks of genuine school violence, I found "Heathers'" black humor and deadly pragmatism to the "Mean Girls'" central issues to be pretty funny, but understood that this was a hyper-reality of Archie-Comics-like parody of high school. At the time I'd also liked "the Chocolate War" and "Heaven Help Us" (which I give myself a pass on if it's bad as I haven't seen it in 16 years), perhaps because they skewed male-centric. "Election" was frustratingly fun. "The River's Edge", while morbid and depressing, had a certain reality to it, that if you heard it had happened at another nearby school, you wouldn't bat an eye. "American Grafitti" captured some of the freedom and opportunity of summer nights in high school.
However, these days few movies seem to be willing to do much but find some variation on the "serve uppity snob girl her comeuppance". Which is kind of silly, especially when nothing can top John Waters' "Hairspray".
These days, for me, the high school character that reminds me most of an actual high school kid is Zach Gilford's portrayal of Matt Saracen on NBC's Friday Night Lights. Where other storylines on the show have already spun off into hour-long prime-time soap opera territory, and kids have mostly fallen into the parentless world of TV high schoolers, Gilford's Saracen is somehow still grounded in some sort of reality. Not presneted as a macho jock stereotype, nor the well-coiffed bad boy/ artist, he's the guy trying to figure out how to be the best man he can be, while trying to figure out what that means.
Anyway, this went on way longer than I meant for it to, so I guess I'm curious:
Interactivity time:
What "high school" movies or TV do you like? What "high school" movies or TV do you feel are ridiculous? Which ones do you think cut closer to the truth than they let on? Am I completely full of it?
Your opinions, please...
This evening I watched a movie I was fairly certain I would never see in this lifetime when Jamie unleashed "Mean Girls" from the DVR. This makes it (I believe) three Lindsay Lohan movies I have seen in my life.
I recently read a Time Magazine interview with Frank Portman, the former front-man of 90's alt-punk band "The Mr. T Experience" (and current successful young-adult author of "King Dork") who said something along the lines of "Our entire popular culture's about high school. It's this thing that most people suffered through terribly or like to think they did."
If "Mean Girls" is any indication of the small, untreatable pettiness we're all carrying around, I have little hope for the human race.
Ostensibly, the movie was for tween-girls, or, possibly, teen-age girls. Actually, when I think of some of the content, I hope it was intended for teen-age girls and not those 5-8th grade girls. But, let's be honest, it's the tweens who will buy it on DVD.
The movie came out during the "Hilary Duff is Everywhere" phase of movie-making between 2003 and 2004 (which you may not have noticed, but as there seemed to be two or three of the same movie running at all times at my local cinema, I took note). I think I probably lumped this one in with those movies in my mind. What I DO remember was that adult reviewers were suggesting that, maybe, you know, THIS one was okay... I also recall hearing how this movie was surprisingly good, how the zoological observations of the protagonist reflected the absurdities of American high-school culture, blah blah blah...
The movie is far better than most for the first thirty minutes, then sputters as it falls into a predictable "beat the snob girl at her own game" pattern which these movies seem to thrive on, and, of course, pretty much finds it's denouement by telling not just our protagonist, but every character, to love themself (an unsatisfying message as Tina Fey's character admits aloud that none of these girls seem to have any problems with self-esteem). Tucked in there is a rare shoutout to also love the girl next to you, and I guess that's what they're hoping to sow.
If the first third of the movie seemed to be giving me hope by stealing from anything, the first reel actually seemed to mirror 1989's "Heathers", right up to "the lunch time poll" (which made me wonder aloud if that wasn't a wink and a nod of an homage). In a post-Columbine-era, it's impossible to imagine a film like "Heathers" receiving funding, and it may be best not to consider how many pipe bombs and trench coats Christian Slater may be tangentially responsible for. But in a post-Columbine world, the ending of "Mean Girls"seemed like a cop out. It was far more fluffy bunnies and rainbows, as if there was line the producers finally settled upon which they would not cross before having the guts to be a black comedy. We discover our alt-rock disaffected girl just needed the love of a good Mathlete, and it really is all about how big your ass is in high school, even when the movie is trying to say otherwise.
Aside from a few funny moments (mostly brought by adult players, Tina Fey and Tim Meadows) I didn't find much to latch on to. All of this, in part, because the "high school is hell" model of cumpolsory education doesn't jive terribly well with personal experience.
If Frank Portman is right, and we are all still hung up on a locker-room wedgie or some girl pointing out our acne on the bus ride home, it's a pretty sad indictment of pop culture and culture in general. How many adults are walking around with unresolved vendettas and revenge fantasies that should have been swept up with the mortar boards from the gymnasium floor?
Really? That many?
Wow.
At least in the entertainment industry, I am led to believe it's a hell of a lot of people.
Tina Fey, screenwriter for the project, has dovetailed a bit of the insecurity of her character from this movie with her work on "30 Rock", and one almost wonders about the Jack Donaghy/ Regina George paradigm of Fey's worry about alpha-dogs. Or maybe that's just the well-spring of comedy. I don't know. But she seems hard-wired into the idea of "I was such a geek back then", and "what a loser I am now... despite my success".
These days, I am sadly hard pressed to remember names of teachers, administrators, and especially fellow-students, although a few clues can usually set me straight. I am inclined to remember myself as a "nice guy", but, heck, I don't know. I might just not remember giving some poor freshman noogies everyday, for which, even now, he's plotting his revenge. (Actually, that seems entirely plausible.)
The stuff that sticks out in my mind about that era is how aware I was that because I had not graduated, I was never to be trusted. I do not remember anyone making fun of me (perhaps I was blissfully ignorant), but I have very firm memories of hitting three bathrooms before I found one that was unlocked during a particular potty emergency in English my senior year. When I asked about it, I was told that they always locked the bathrooms on the first floor during periods that coincided with lunchtime, because they'd once caught a kid smoking in the bathroom. So, you know, your bladder be damned.
"Mean Girls" actually has a montage, including the "why do you have to use the restroom?" dilemma of public ed, and this was where I connected. The prison mentality of lowest-common-denominator rule application is a good bit, and is one of the stronger segments in the film. This is the high school that I remember.
Or that you had to leave class and stand in line for twenty minutes in the office to collect a "tardy" pass if you were ten seconds after the bell. Or being told to sell cakes out of a catalog to raise money for prom. Or the monitor refusing to let you go to your locker to get your own textbooks to work on assignments or study, because it was before the first bell (and you could see your locker from where you were standing, and you'd gone to school forty-five minutes early, just for this).
Perhaps "3 O'Clock High" utilized some of the bureaucratic insanity to best advantage, but was that was certainly not the central conflict.
There are high school movies I like. When I was of the right age, and before it was marred by outbreaks of genuine school violence, I found "Heathers'" black humor and deadly pragmatism to the "Mean Girls'" central issues to be pretty funny, but understood that this was a hyper-reality of Archie-Comics-like parody of high school. At the time I'd also liked "the Chocolate War" and "Heaven Help Us" (which I give myself a pass on if it's bad as I haven't seen it in 16 years), perhaps because they skewed male-centric. "Election" was frustratingly fun. "The River's Edge", while morbid and depressing, had a certain reality to it, that if you heard it had happened at another nearby school, you wouldn't bat an eye. "American Grafitti" captured some of the freedom and opportunity of summer nights in high school.
However, these days few movies seem to be willing to do much but find some variation on the "serve uppity snob girl her comeuppance". Which is kind of silly, especially when nothing can top John Waters' "Hairspray".
These days, for me, the high school character that reminds me most of an actual high school kid is Zach Gilford's portrayal of Matt Saracen on NBC's Friday Night Lights. Where other storylines on the show have already spun off into hour-long prime-time soap opera territory, and kids have mostly fallen into the parentless world of TV high schoolers, Gilford's Saracen is somehow still grounded in some sort of reality. Not presneted as a macho jock stereotype, nor the well-coiffed bad boy/ artist, he's the guy trying to figure out how to be the best man he can be, while trying to figure out what that means.
Anyway, this went on way longer than I meant for it to, so I guess I'm curious:
Interactivity time:
What "high school" movies or TV do you like? What "high school" movies or TV do you feel are ridiculous? Which ones do you think cut closer to the truth than they let on? Am I completely full of it?
Your opinions, please...
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