I was introduced to a new game today. It can only be the brainchild of this information age that we live in, and far too much time on one's hands. I can only imagine it's epic creation, two bored college students who just spent three hours of fascinated clicking.
What, pray, is the name of this momentous, yet enriching, waste of our time, you ask?
Wikipedia racing.
Follow me here. Two or more people on separate computers, preferably with the same internet speed, are given or come up with a random entry on Wikipedia, ex. the Scripps National Spelling Bee. They are then given or come up with a COMPLETELY separate, random entry as their end goal, ex. jade. This works best if you can grab someone walking by and ask them to decide your destination entry. The goal is to get from point A to point B only by clicking on links within each entry. No back buttoning is allowed. The first person to reach point B wins. They then must repeat their trail back to the group.
For example, (I'm not going to link ALL these pages) I started at the Scripps National Spelling Bee. I then clicked on 'New Zealand' and this is how it preceeded from there: Maori, ocean (mythology), Hindu mythology, Shiva, Bronze, Sculpture. I almost had it here; the word JADE appeared in the section on Chinese sculpture, but it wasn't linked, so no go. Then I tried: Ming Dynasty, Porcelain, Quartz, Gold, Jewelry, gemstone... and then I had to admit defeat. I kept hitting dead ends. A smarter (but more improbable) route would have been: Spelling Bee, New Zealand, Maori, Hei-tiki (a kind of necklace), Pounamu, jade.
The most logical connection isn't usually the best path to take in Wikipedia racing. Usually when a connection is too obvious, the word isn't linked in an entry. Also, one must be careful, because entries do exist that have no more links in them. Dead ends. And two entries aren't guaranteed to share a link that goes both ways. Sometimes random clicking proves more profitable than logic.
Now I'm sure that there are some reading this post who are going to try it with roommates the night after you read this. To you I say, "Godspeed."
Monday, August 27, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
A Temporary Solution
I descended to a new low yesterday: I wore make-up for no special occasion.
I'm not a big fan of make-up. Even just writing the word seems ridiculous to me. Look at it, it's a hyphenated verb group. You 'make' your face 'up' to be something that isn't its base form. Make-up isn't a mask that hides the real you, that's just overreaction. It can be a very good thing to enhance one's natural beauty, when used in the right hands (don't come near me with that eye shadow, Charo). Make-up is basically a fine product. I just never use it. I rationalize that I would rather not take the time to create a visual image of myself for other people that is ruined if they see me just out of bed. In other words, I would rather be complimented on how nice I look once in a while than have it blaringly obvious when I am not wearing make-up.
But desperate times...
My lovely 20-year old acne has recently gotten so bad that I want to apologize to the people that have to look at it when talking to me. I'm planning on going to the dermatologist when the appointment becomes free in less than a week. Until then, I will be a slave to my liquid foundation.
It was either that, or a face veil.
I'm not a big fan of make-up. Even just writing the word seems ridiculous to me. Look at it, it's a hyphenated verb group. You 'make' your face 'up' to be something that isn't its base form. Make-up isn't a mask that hides the real you, that's just overreaction. It can be a very good thing to enhance one's natural beauty, when used in the right hands (don't come near me with that eye shadow, Charo). Make-up is basically a fine product. I just never use it. I rationalize that I would rather not take the time to create a visual image of myself for other people that is ruined if they see me just out of bed. In other words, I would rather be complimented on how nice I look once in a while than have it blaringly obvious when I am not wearing make-up.
But desperate times...
My lovely 20-year old acne has recently gotten so bad that I want to apologize to the people that have to look at it when talking to me. I'm planning on going to the dermatologist when the appointment becomes free in less than a week. Until then, I will be a slave to my liquid foundation.
It was either that, or a face veil.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
I'll stick to wooden blocks and soft dolls, thanks
Earlier this month, Dr. Dimitri Christakis, a professor of pediatrics at the University of Washington in Seattle, released a study on the effectiveness of the Baby Einstein videos in promoting learning in infants.
The results were not good for parents looking for some relief when they plop their tiny tot in front of the tv.
Because the videos simply show mesmerizing images (like lava lamps) with classical music but no natural dialogue, the children from 8 to 16 months of age who watch such videos have a lower language acquisition than other children. Dr. Christakis hypothesizes that these babies are not speaking or being spoken to as much, and therefore are deprived of language interaction for an hour to two hours. Reading or singing to the child, or playing games, greatly enhances the child's early language acquisition. The effects don't seem to be permenant, as the older children show normal language levels.
My first reaction: ha! Take that, stupid videos!
While I realize that the Baby Einstein videos give parents a chance to make dinner without worrying about the baby, I personally don't think I could bring myself to show them to my future children. I despise any kind of children's television that doesn't serve a learning purpose. If children must watch tv, they might as well get some kind of learning from it. And shows like Sesame Street (though I don't like what it has become), Veggie Tales, or even Bob the Builder, engage in normal dialogue that does not condescend to what we think is a child's comprehension level. Learning only happens when the human brain is challenged to take the next step, to go beyond what it is already certain is true. Kids won't get smarter if we always talk with them in baby talk.
Besides that, I hate the industry of children's toys nowadays (especially videos). People always laugh when their child gets a great toy, and spends all of Christmas Day playing with the box. Today's toy industry stifles imagination; instead of pretending a refrigerator box is a spaceship, we are offered real plastic spaceships that a kid can sit in (and probably vibrates). Little girls will play with soft dolls and change their cloth diapers - we don't need an electronic doll that simulates actual digestion.
While it may be so much easier to raise a child with all the helpful devices in today's world, I long to return to the days of homemade, simple toys.
The results were not good for parents looking for some relief when they plop their tiny tot in front of the tv.
Because the videos simply show mesmerizing images (like lava lamps) with classical music but no natural dialogue, the children from 8 to 16 months of age who watch such videos have a lower language acquisition than other children. Dr. Christakis hypothesizes that these babies are not speaking or being spoken to as much, and therefore are deprived of language interaction for an hour to two hours. Reading or singing to the child, or playing games, greatly enhances the child's early language acquisition. The effects don't seem to be permenant, as the older children show normal language levels.
My first reaction: ha! Take that, stupid videos!
While I realize that the Baby Einstein videos give parents a chance to make dinner without worrying about the baby, I personally don't think I could bring myself to show them to my future children. I despise any kind of children's television that doesn't serve a learning purpose. If children must watch tv, they might as well get some kind of learning from it. And shows like Sesame Street (though I don't like what it has become), Veggie Tales, or even Bob the Builder, engage in normal dialogue that does not condescend to what we think is a child's comprehension level. Learning only happens when the human brain is challenged to take the next step, to go beyond what it is already certain is true. Kids won't get smarter if we always talk with them in baby talk.
Besides that, I hate the industry of children's toys nowadays (especially videos). People always laugh when their child gets a great toy, and spends all of Christmas Day playing with the box. Today's toy industry stifles imagination; instead of pretending a refrigerator box is a spaceship, we are offered real plastic spaceships that a kid can sit in (and probably vibrates). Little girls will play with soft dolls and change their cloth diapers - we don't need an electronic doll that simulates actual digestion.
While it may be so much easier to raise a child with all the helpful devices in today's world, I long to return to the days of homemade, simple toys.
Friday, August 10, 2007
The Trick is Getting Back On
Had another bike mishap yesterday. I shy away from saying 'accident'; somehow, knowing you're going to go down in 3 seconds and you can do nothing about it doesn't fit the word 'accident'. 'Accident' seems to imply two parties, or one party (like a car) that receives irreparable damage from the second party (like a brick wall).
Darn, I guess I backed myself into a corner on that one.
It had been raining the night before. The sidewalks were still wet and slippery at 8:30 in the morning. I rode the route I always take to work - up on the sidewalk, across the UW Foundation parking lot, over and down the foot bridge - but I could also feel that my brake pads had finally worn smooth after a year. I made the first turn down the foot bridge with an impending sense of worry. No matter how I pulled on the handle bars, I was clipping along at the same increasing speed. I tried the second, sharper turn, but I knew I was going too fast. I crashed my front tire into the steel mesh of the railing.
Oops.
So there were two parties involved - me and the railing. But I had accepted my fate (of crashing) before it happened. Does that make a difference?
Acceptance turns a cold-blooded murder into a self-sacrifice, after all.
Darn, I guess I backed myself into a corner on that one.
It had been raining the night before. The sidewalks were still wet and slippery at 8:30 in the morning. I rode the route I always take to work - up on the sidewalk, across the UW Foundation parking lot, over and down the foot bridge - but I could also feel that my brake pads had finally worn smooth after a year. I made the first turn down the foot bridge with an impending sense of worry. No matter how I pulled on the handle bars, I was clipping along at the same increasing speed. I tried the second, sharper turn, but I knew I was going too fast. I crashed my front tire into the steel mesh of the railing.
Oops.
So there were two parties involved - me and the railing. But I had accepted my fate (of crashing) before it happened. Does that make a difference?
Acceptance turns a cold-blooded murder into a self-sacrifice, after all.
Monday, August 6, 2007
A Really Good Song is Just Like a Really Good Poem
Who Will Guard the Door
written and sung by Over the Rhine
You were the hand that I tried to take
You're the decision that I could not make
You're the religion that I should forsake
You were the story I tried to tell
You were the savior that tripped and fell
Beautiful dancing infidel
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
I'm not sleeping
You were the season that would not change
I often was the same
Then four horseman came and stole my name
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
I'm not sleeping
I never saw you fall apart
I never saw you work so hard
Never saw you need no one
I am my father's son
You were the hand that I tried to take
You're the decision that I could not make
You're the religion that I should forsake
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
I'm not sleeping
written and sung by Over the Rhine
You were the hand that I tried to take
You're the decision that I could not make
You're the religion that I should forsake
You were the story I tried to tell
You were the savior that tripped and fell
Beautiful dancing infidel
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
I'm not sleeping
You were the season that would not change
I often was the same
Then four horseman came and stole my name
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
I'm not sleeping
I never saw you fall apart
I never saw you work so hard
Never saw you need no one
I am my father's son
You were the hand that I tried to take
You're the decision that I could not make
You're the religion that I should forsake
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
I'm not sleeping
Friday, August 3, 2007
Where the Heart Is
I've been thinking lately about where I want to live as a real adult - one with a steady job, a husband, children. For a while I was convinced that I would be your stereotypical soccer mom from the suburbs. I like the look of suburban living, as it tries to take a compromise between urban and rural. There's only one problem with living in houses that stand 20 feet apart:
There's nowhere you can go to let off a good scream.
I'm finding this problem in Madison right now. Madison has open, uninhabited areas, but if you stand there and scream bloody murder, you better believe someone's going to either come running, or call the police. I grew up on a densely-wooded 2 acres with no sounds of human life, save the highway white-noise. The idea of city living may be attractive, but the density of people has begun to give me body-claustraphobia. If I want to be alone, if I wanted to sit and bawl my eyes out, complete with moaning and wailing and gnashing of teeth, there's virtually no where I could go.
I guess I am a country girl at heart.
There's nowhere you can go to let off a good scream.
I'm finding this problem in Madison right now. Madison has open, uninhabited areas, but if you stand there and scream bloody murder, you better believe someone's going to either come running, or call the police. I grew up on a densely-wooded 2 acres with no sounds of human life, save the highway white-noise. The idea of city living may be attractive, but the density of people has begun to give me body-claustraphobia. If I want to be alone, if I wanted to sit and bawl my eyes out, complete with moaning and wailing and gnashing of teeth, there's virtually no where I could go.
I guess I am a country girl at heart.
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