Terminal Rhetoric: September 2005 Archives

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September 30, 2005

Technology can change everything, except for the opinions of Austrian Republicans

So, Schwarzenegger had a chance to allow gay marriage in California but vetoed the bill, which you can read about Here. I bring this up because not to long ago a meme came my way through my other lj (blog) about how we could help him choose to vote yes on the bill via the directions here.

It brings me back to the post Internet: voice of the people?

Since this meme was passed down to me from pro gay marriage people, I'll assume that the majority of people who called voted yes.

So either our voice wasn't loud enough or Schwarzenegger is getting too old to hear it?

And on a last random thought is the internet even considered a voice of the people to the government?

Posted by Whitney Worden at 8:25 PM | TrackBack

September 29, 2005

NOTE: Change in Reading Schedule

The course schedule lists Kate Hayles as next week's reading. I've decided to switch to something a little less academic. Check out Chris Anderson's Wired article on "The Long Tail."

Posted by Alex Reid at 9:51 AM | TrackBack

mighty mice

The article about the mice with the ability to regenerate organs was thought provoking. Apparently this ability has been attributed to some combination of three known genes. Isolating the specifics of this process is just a matter of time. It appears to be a dominant gene which is passed to offspring. Now -- the question is how far should scientists pursue this. The ability to regenerate a lost limb or organ seems valuable. Say in the case of an auto accident, but eternal life is just a half step down the inventive path. It wouldn't take too long before even more people would be starving to death due to the horrendus overcrowding. Also, I'm wondering would it be possible to have let's say a modern day Hitler, Ghengis Khan, and every other "Bad guy" you can think of alive forever -- would it be a catastrophe? would it even matter? if there were wars, pestilence, famine and plague -- no matter what terrible things occured, no one would die because humans could simply regenerate the missing or afflicted organ. There wouldn't be room to stand; humans would neccesarily resort to cannibalism because there would be no other life. Is the future of mankind to be like a fungus that feeds upon itself. There must be religious considerations too. You must die to go to heaven; you cannot die because you have the ability to regenerate; if you do not use that ability --assuming that it is a voluntary function -- will that be considered suicide -- a sure ticket to eternal damnation? I don't know. hopefully I'll die (no time soon mind you) before this ability is bred into mankind.

Posted by Joseph Lampiasi at 9:34 AM | TrackBack

September 28, 2005

My finished website

In case everyone in this class hasn't left their dorm/apartment since they began their "education" here at Cortland, you might not have heard about one of the few recognized fraternities we have here called Omega Delta Phi. These boys have been my friends for a while and I decided to make my web page about their frat to show case the guys that made my time here at Cortland fly by.
So check them out and please let anyone know that they are a great bunch of guys and if they're interested in participating in Greek life here, this would be a great frat to get involved with.

Omega Delta Phi!!!

Posted by Deena Aglialoro at 9:23 PM | TrackBack

Halo on your phone?!?

I don't know if anyone else reads the news articles on the side of the PWR 209 screen, but one happened to catch my attention. Apparently, Microsoft has struck a deal with French mobile games maker In-Fusio to bring Halo to mobile phones.
I don't know about anyone else, but video games on your cell phone just seem to be taking things to the extreme to me. I mean, I'm aware you can get cames like Excite Bike and Tetris and Jeopardy already, but this is a popular X-Box game that apparently wasn't making enough money selling at $60 a pop in the stores but now has to bring in more mindless zombies by attracting people to play it wherever they go.
I think things are just getting out of control in this technological age. We're doing everything in our power, it seems, to steer away from educational purposes like books, and distract ourselves from the big, bad world on the other side of our door. It's sad how many people don't pick up a newspaper or turn on CNN because they're more interested in seeing their "shows."
People are obsessed with PSPs and video systems and the newest phones that no one cares about the amount of money that they're spending just to keep up. It's ridiculous- case and point, my boyfriend told me about how he wanted to get the new verizon phone that's coming out in October. He explained it to me as the newest kind of phone that has a huge TV screen on one side of the phone so that you can watch clips of thins and videos and stuff. When I asked him why he told me just because it was cool. I think it's ridiculous to just get a phone just because it's cool.

Posted by Deena Aglialoro at 8:50 PM | TrackBack

September 27, 2005

no wallets?

Do you think it's possible that we will just sweep our cell phones across a monitor like Will Smith did in Robot? Now here's what I want to know -- will we need money in the account or will our pay account at work simply be debited for the amount? Is this possible? Normally we are simply middle men for money anyway -- as the old saying goes, money talks, mine says good bye -- So instead of recieving a payment debit, we will authorize our employer to debit various creditors on our behalf. $40 to MCI,$40 to NYSEG, $600 to the mortgage holder, and so on. This way we wouldn't have to worry about checking account balances and we could just work without a care or worry about money. What do you think?

Posted by Joseph Lampiasi at 8:37 PM | TrackBack

No More Wallets

An article on PCWorld.com explains the dwindling future of our wallets. According this article, our cell phones will eventually contain everything you carry in your wallet including credit cards, membership cards, and down the road even your driver's license. Already phones are emerging that can act as your mp3 player, a camera, and phone at the same time.

If you're like me, for right now the only thing I need my phone to do is make and receive calls. It seems though that eventually I'll be needing it for a lot more than that. The future lies in your cell phone. Check out the full article here Michal Fitzgerald explains his experience with using the new cell phone/credit card.

Posted by Brenden Hendrickson at 1:29 PM | TrackBack

more on dery

I agree with the idea that the unpopularity of the first class/coach idea is irksome to those in coach and possibly to those in first class -- at least untill the champagne is served. The division reminds us that we are not the absolute top of the food chain that we thought we were.
Concerning the interaction of human tasks and machine tasks, judgement must be firmly placed in the column for human tasks; machines don't have emotion so they can't have judgement. No matter how sophisticated a machine might be, it's function must be to relay information to a human for any decision concerning a judgement. The obvious question is "How will a machine know if a judgement is required." If the machine can reach no logical answer, a jugement must be made, so it then becomes the m achine's duty to inform the human of the situation and viable options.

Posted by Joseph Lampiasi at 10:54 AM | TrackBack

September 26, 2005

Mrmories of the future handout

"one thing I miss is the time when America had big dreams about the future...Now it seems like nobody has big hopes for the future. We all seem to think that it's going to be just like it is now, only worse."- Andy Warhol
I find that to be a strange statement. Society constantly is changing- we went from tape recorders, to CD players, to MP3 players to IPODS and Shuffles. Everything keeps getting more advanced, smaller in size, and greater in price. If you look at the world through a technological viewpoint, the world is constantly changing. We're using environmental safe cars these days and because gas prices are so high I'm sure people are walking or taking public transportation a lot more so that helps in keeping our air clean.
Sure, we may not have cured AIDS or cancer yet but the research hasn't stopped. Mark Dery also comments that we "can't be bothered to watch the latest shuttle maneuvers"... I wasn't aware that space exploration was really helping us cure Cancer?
I don't know, I may have missed his point all his technical jargon was making my eyes hurt. Half the time it took me five tries to decipher what it was he was trying to explain. He went from space to TWA airplanes. I don't know, I think this article is something I might need to discuss in class to further understand what the point is.

Posted by Deena Aglialoro at 12:31 PM | TrackBack

Class opinion

Even though keeping up with these blogs are driving me out of my mind, I think my web pages are starting to look pretty good. The dreamweaver program was tricky at first since we are all used to using Dell computers, and Mac's just don't cut it normally.

I just wanted to send everyone an updated link to my Always Fabulous web blog in case anyone would like to read up on my oh-so-fabulous-and-tragic-drama-filled-life, or check out the progress I made on my website in which I'm featuring the Omega Delta Phi fraternity here at Cortland. Enjoy!

Posted by Deena Aglialoro at 12:22 PM | TrackBack

Terminal Rhetoric: Memories of the Future

Note: if you haven't picked up a copy of Mark Dery's article yet, you can find one in the black, hanging files outside my office door (OM 115A).

Dery's article presents a sardonic reflection on air travel. At its heart, he writes about the disappearance of the "futuristic" world promised by TWA and international air travel in the 1960s. In its place, we have air travel as something more like travelling by bus than on a cruise ship. With two more airlines (Delta and NorthWest) headed for bankruptcy this month, the future of the industry is uncertain (though obviously we rely upon air travel, so it isn't going anywhere anytime soon).

There are two particular elements I wanted to comment on (perhaps you will as well).

1. Dery's discussion of the class warfare represented in the division between First Class and Coach. I'm guessing you've all flown at one time or another. What's your take on this? Do agree with Dery's assessment that the airlines maintain this division more to hold onto their notion of what airline travel should be than for reasons of profitibility?

2. The increasing role technology plays in regulating our lives (e.g. the computerization of piloting aircraft). Obviously in many respects this regulation is convenient and comforting, and yet I'm sure many of us reject the techno-patriarchy of a kind of robot/daddy knows best. As Dery writes, "we're being asked, more and more, to trust in technologies whose speed and complexity are leaving humans in the dust, even as that trust is eroded by firsthand acquaintance with the fickle, glitchy, virus-infected reality of computers" (301). Imagine this: you're boarding a plane and you see the pilots booting up the onboard computer. Suddenly you hear the telltale tones of the Windows OS starting up...wouldn't you turn around and get right off the plane? I don't think I'd want to take a ride on MS Plane, would you?

The point here for us in reading this is to think about information technologies in the context of flight technologies. Clearly there is the issue of hype, and in a way we've already been through the hype with the dot.com bubble in the late nineties. But there's always more hype, right?

However, I've got a broader philosophical issue to address. This idea that technology of some kind is going to save us OR damn us... It relies on the principle that technology is outside of "us." Only by being separate from us can technology come along and threaten our "interiority" (who we believe we are on the inside). I don't buy that. That doesn't mean that technologies can't be helpful or harmful or both simultaneously. Instead, it means that we need to see ourselves imbricated with our technology. There is no "inside" versus "outside." In a way, Dery demonstrates this in showing how our technology unfolds with our class prejudices and our fears already built-in.

Posted by Alex Reid at 12:17 PM | TrackBack

Acceptable because of Katrina

I think the only reason this is even going on is because of the devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina (and soon, it will be both Katrina and Rite snatching up headlines). For the sake of what these people are doing with the pieces of material sent out everywhere, I believe it is a positive social ends. People are caring more about the point this is going to make, rather then the money they will see for the reproduction of their clip. If this weren't for a good cause, there would be copy right suits all over the place because splicing videos together isn't acceptable.
In the article Elijah Wald, a music historian, stated that, "This tradition of responding culturally to terrible events had almost been forgotten...but in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, it may be making a comeback, with the obvious difference that, where Franklin would have sold a few song sheets to his fellow Philadelphians, the Internet allows artists today to reach the whole world." To send a strong message to the people so that something can be done to change any wrong doing that is going on, people can over look the politics of the matter and (hopefully) continue to try and make good of a bad situation.

Posted by Deena Aglialoro at 12:15 PM | TrackBack

Lessig hurts my eyes

OK honestly, I don't think I've been happier to finish reading something. Even though Lessig made valid points, the guy was so long winded that all his good thoughts took so long to process I probably won't truly appreciate them until tomorrow. The idea of copy right being such a big deal has only been made aware to us by our teachers of enforce us to cite our work and "no plagerism." I'm glad I've listened in the past and haven't gotten myself used to sneaking around because the fines are absolutely ridiculous! I'm contimplating even to stop downloading music (even though I feel if artists are truly "in it for the music" they shouldn't really mind that we're getting their songs for free).

Posted by Deena Aglialoro at 11:54 AM | TrackBack

neovox article 1 revision (need feedback)

I revised my article and added more of an ending..I need feedback thx

The first time we had sex was glorious. The weight of God had lifted from my shoulders. My orgasm was: an atom bomb exploding and crashing through my soul and when it was over we lay our sweaty bodies against each other and she clung to me. My eyes rolled back into my head, and in that moment I floated up through her and through my roof and up into the atmosphere. Heavenly opera crescendos erupted from the earth as to applaud my great undertaking. Italian women with beautiful voices filled my ears. I could see our naked bodies from the sky, just like those stories of people who die for split seconds and see themselves – stretched out on a gurney or dead in bed. But, like an adrenaline needle shot to my heart, she whispered that she loved me and the sky caved in. I was born again, pulled down, way back down through heaven, through the clouds and into my bed. She told me she loved me and I told her right back but I was lying through my teeth.

I remember looking up at the little sticky glowing stars clinging to my ceiling, still there from when I was eight years old, and smiling. After that sex my whole life made sense. I had a stupid grin on my face for two days. I’d drag my feet around town and hear every note of nature. I felt drunk and happy and stupid all the time. Most of the trivial shit that used to bother me horribly was suddenly distant and far away. That sex was bleach my brain needed to start over. My brain and conscience were so clean I would have been content with murder.

Her first I love you was so weird and awkward and soon she said it every night. I felt uncomfortable because I didn’t share her feelings. I was constantly waiting for my heart to finally accept her. I wanted to fall into love like a fever.

Like a Trojan horse, she opened up after a few weeks. Right at that perfect moment, right when I would have grabbed her hand and kissed it and looked her in her blue eyes and said, yes, yes I do, I really love you and I want to be with you forever.

Right then she told me she cut herself and she was living with bipolar disorder, so I said so what? We can work through this and none of that even matters.

Two days later I was walking her to my car, and she was wearing tight Capri pants, the kind that just expose the knee to ankle area, and there I saw my red name sliced into her leg. Not cut or sliced or scratched – carved. Weeks passed and I thought maybe this would blow over, maybe the Depakote would kick in and we could forget about all this. Then I saw her manic side.

Bipolar disorder is generally two extremes; mania and depression. Mania begins with strong euphoria, increased energy, activity, and restlessness. Like cocaine, I was told. In mania, one never stops talking, or stops to think. The first time I saw her manic I thought she was on angel dust.

Soon the mania turned into aggressive and ridiculous behaviors due to the fall from mania to a more sane state of mind. This state is considered the most dangerous because the sufferer knows the depression is coming. This sweet girl turned into the coldest and meanest person I knew. This cycle always concluded with a severe crash. The wilder the mania – the harder the fall. Right when I finally fell in love, I fell back out.

Even though the sex became harder and wilder, every time it was over I would always fiend for that high. My eyes stopped rolling back and I stopped dancing in the clouds and soon my atom bomb culmination felt like firecrackers.

Into my unconscious mind bled all of the disappointing things; the scars, cutting, fighting, screaming, lying, cheating.

I became an expert. I could read the curves of her body. The way she carried herself told me which spectrum end she experienced. Quiet, reserved, shy just screamed depression.
Body language told me a crash would happen… tomorrow. Grabbing me by the dick, ripping off my clothes, pushing me down on the floor and riding me was always mania.

The relationship was a trap. Months had passed and sex was the only thing left. And after sex I was never high, I was empty. I was awkward and uninterested. I constantly had revelations - this girl was in the depths of a disorder, she wanted help and I wanted sex. We didn’t talk about mood stabilizers, we talked dirty. I didn’t help her pick out a new shrink, I helped her pick out lingerie.

My head spun. I dropped the cymbals I was carrying and ran out of there, pushing through the crowd fast into the dead winter night to my van, fighting tears. The windows were fogged and iced up. The door was locked so I started screaming at the top of my frozen lungs. Open the fucking door right now please just open the door oh my god.

I remembered her wild mania that night and I knew she must have crashed and burned. Every door was locked up and she always held my keys while we were on stage. I was afraid of what I would see if I managed to get inside. Exhausting my options, I was left to rip open the broken trunk door. It didn’t budge so, bracing myself with one foot against a taillight I gritted my teeth and pulled. I pulled for all of the shallow hugs and lies. I gritted my teeth for every ignored call and her dangling razorblade earrings.

Springs popped.

The door sighed as the cracks in the glass spider webbed their way up to my trembling hands. The hinges ripped apart and I heard her muffled crying. I saw her crouched into a ball in the passenger seat, trembling, trying to cut her wrists with a shiny piece of metal, but her hands were too shaky. The metal glistened as I exhaled ice and I just stood there in the cold.

I crawled up to her on my hands and knees and said,
“What are you doing? Please, I love you please don’t do this.”
I delicately opened up her clenched fist and took the shiny thing and put it in my jeans pocket. We didn’t talk the whole ride home.
When we got back I drank Vodka straight while she went on the computer. I stood at the doorway and said “this is what I do when I’m depressed.” And she laughed.
I lived for the moments when she laughed.

When I dropped her off I said I love you with all of my heart. She stared me in the eyes with the same eyes I fell in love with, except now they were blood red with bitterness, red with hatred.
She told me to shut the fuck up and stop, stop, stop because I didn’t mean it. I stammered and screamed and cursed even after she slammed the door, even after she made her way up the dimly lit walk and was well into her house. I sat there with the headlights dimming, rain pattering on the roof. That sex induced coma was miles away.

I woke up at sunrise the next day to dedicate the rest of it to saving our drowning relationship. I did hours of research on bipolar treatment and medication. I even interviewed all of my old psychology professors from my community college. Dr. Kraut with the white beard, he rubbed his belly and laughed and said this is only going to get worse. I was told that I was at the tip of an endless beginning. He started to tell me why but I stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind me.

I got home, locked the door and created the break up lines in my brain. I paced around like a lunatic in the depths of a drug binge, making James Dean speeches to empty rooms.
Straight vodka. Chain smoking.
I picked up the phone and dialed, sweating.
She answered meekly, “hello?”
I breathed heavily, closed my eyes and said honestly,
“It sounds selfish, but it’s too much stress for me.
“I had some of the best times of my life with you.
“I’ll never forget the way you laugh or the first time I saw your eyes.
“You were the first girl I ever loved and,
“I hope you will meet someone, one day, who always has the right thing to say,
“and can always bring out your smile.”

I hung up and stared at the phone.
I woke up hours later to a dial tone blaring, surrounded by empty beer bottles and my cigarette spotted carpet. My room was foreign, ancient land. Where the fuck did a year and a half of my life go? Ah yes, I had been consumed by a relationship that was so unhealthy, I had deteriorated. I stumbled to the bathroom mirror. Gripping the white sink with both hands, I gazed at a stranger. My skin stretched thin over my bones. My collar bone jutted through my white skin. I coughed up blood into the sink.

I will never let this happen again.

And that’s how it went. I gained a profound respect for disorder. I envied, yet felt happy for my friends with normal girlfriends. But I’d always listen to my friends complain about how insane their relationships were and how wild their girls were because they stayed out late and drank, or broke curfew. Or my friends would say, “hey, man, I really don’t know what to do, this relationship is killing me.” And I’d say yea, uh-huh. I know what you mean.

Once in awhile I’ll see her around. We’ll talk about nothing. Awkward catch-up talk. She’ll catch me looking at her breasts but I’m really reading her curves, for I can still sense the oncoming storm. We talk about our lives and shitty jobs and really never make solid eye contact because she’s looking at her shoes. She still wants to have sex in my van, but I don’t need the weight of God on my shoulders.

Posted by Patrick Berlinquette at 12:54 AM | TrackBack

September 25, 2005

internet: voice of the people?

As report in the NY Times, artists are using the Internet to respond immediately to the events surrounding Katrina.

A Houston-based group called the Legendary K.O. created a track titled "George Bush doesn't care about black people" (referencing rapper Kanye West's comments on a live, nationally broadcast telethon). At least two video producers have made videos for the track (which was releasted on an open license. The NY Times article contains links to all of these.

We can discuss the particular politics of the piece if you like. However, I am more interested in the media here. That is, the original track is built from a number of samples. That track then is distributed online where it is picked up by unreleated video artists who then splice together their own videos based on existing material (e.g. news footage). Much of this is made possible by a Creative Commons licensing.

So is this point to positive social ends for this technology in creating a more particaptory democracy?

Posted by Alex Reid at 8:16 PM | TrackBack

A model for online participation

I've been meeting with you all individually (note those who missed class last Wednesday should come by my office, OM 115, and sign up for a conference). One thing I've touched on with most of you is participation on this blog. Generally folks are a little behind on their participation. This is particularly troubling to me as I've given you a few "freebies" here in the first few weeks: a post to introduce yourself, a post just stating a link to your blog, a post for your NeoVox article, and a post, written in class, giving feedback on another person's article. Since most people are a couple posts behind, that means that many of you are posting only once a week (or less, since that would be an average).

The workload is only going to increase as the semester moves forward. So let me give you some specific guidelines for how to proceed with your THREE WEEKLY POSTS.

1. Write in response to the assigned readings. I usually post a question. You can respond/comment on that or post something else related to the reading. Try to demonstrate that you've read and understood it. If you struggled, ask some quesitons.

2. Post on a topic germane to class, something happening currently. News about blogging or copyright or emerging technologies or privacy. You can write about online culture. Yes, it might mean going out there and looking around, but I'd like to see you do that. Check out the feed in the left column here. It's providing SCI/TECH news from Wired, BBC, and NY Times. It's a place to start.

3. Comment on one of your classmates posts on this blog. Yes, I want you to read one another's posts and respond to them. The idea here is that we are trying to create a community of writers dealing with the subject of "cyberspace."

Let me give you a little, standard mathematical formula we go by in higher education. We estimate two hours of work outside of class for each our in class (lab doesn't count). So you should be doing six hours of work, plus the three hours of classtime on Tues and Thursday. I figure you'll spend around two hours doing reading, four hours working on web projects, and the three hours of classtime doing blog posts (that's for both your personal blog and the course blog). On top of that we have the two hours of lab where we are trying to learn more about web design.

Posted by Alex Reid at 7:15 PM | TrackBack

September 22, 2005

Last old school blog I swear...

So I love adult swim, and I realize now that I'm watching 'doujinshi' at times. Anyone seen that Geico commercial? I found the following concept interesting: regulation by law is both the function of words in a book AND the costs of making those words have effect. As cool as I find the whole doujinshi vs manga thing...what a double standard! Funny how when piracy helps the "victim", its allowed. Thats BS.

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 12:51 AM | TrackBack

Chapter 1...

I'm not very educated on particular cases where people were charged with piracy involving the internet, so tell me: how does the average teen know when creative work is under "exclusive right" and when its the "lawyer free zone"...I mean uhhh public domain? God knows I never read the "fine print", or scroll to the the drab print at the bottom of a site when all of the vivid, gaudy stuff is up top.
I'm also rather perturbed at my new-found bit of knowledge that today's public domain consists only of content from before the Great Depression? Can I have a little "power of common sense" bring some light to this situation for me?

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 12:39 AM | TrackBack

Chapter 1...

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 12:39 AM | TrackBack

Fitzgerald Hall

I'm brought back to my freshman year here at Cortland. Living in Fitzgerald hall with all of my friends...and Napster...then Kazaa...then Limewire...the list goes on and on. We were never very faithful to any of them, simply took what we wanted and watched them get taken to court. It is that harmless of sharing Britney Spears' "Slave for you" with my roommate for example, that I assume has created a whole new pool of jobs. I picture nerds from high school, "pocket-protector" wearing, the kind of kids who become cops just to seek revenge on their graduating class (although I'm sure they'd never admit so). Are these the people that are paid to hunt down all of the scary, 17-18 yr old 'pirates'? I dont think I could live with myself for making an income off of something so ludicrous.

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 12:31 AM | TrackBack

I wish I could draw...

All of this piracy talk sparked an idea for a political cartoon. Alhough, a) I have a feeling some very similar to it already exist b)I dont dare reveal its content...you people might be pirates! Heh...no seriously, talk to me if any of you can draw half-way decent.

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 12:27 AM | TrackBack

I beg to differ Mansfield...

Lord Mansfield on sheet music:
"A person may use the copy by playing it, but has no right to rob the author of the profit, by multiplying copies and disposing of them for his own use".
Not to encourage the anti-piracy police or anything, but I just dont see logic in that. If anything it supports people's statements in our discussions that the anti-piracy laws arent here to protect artists, it's about making money for the shareholders. If we're going to use this sheet music theory as an analogy, what about cover bands being paid to play at a venue? Or those lone, older musicians parked on a curb at local festivals, accepting cash/coins in their wide open carrying cases?

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 12:21 AM | TrackBack

Bare with me

I have been neglecting to post on here about Lessig, which unfortunately reflects my occasional use of computers. As I read Lessig, I've kept a journal by hand. I realize some of my comments may be outdated, but none the less I'll catch myself up on the discussion and wont be hurt if none of you comment on my outdated posts.

First off...
Until reading this I never knew what AM/FM radio stood for, or the legacy behind RCA & Armstrong. It really got me going reflecting on "private interest vs. obvious public gain". Incredible, to know how passive people still are is in the battle of commercial vs. non commercial society. "The more powerful side ensures it has the more powerful view". It is situations like this that make me wish I were coming into a great deal of money soon, why are anti-social flakes like Trump in such positions? It's a bloody shame. I hope to stay in touch with the "depressingly compromised process of making law", if I'm ever in a position where my voice is going to make a difference, damn right I wont ever shut up.

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 12:06 AM | TrackBack

September 21, 2005

Steve Lennon Neovox Article #1

Steve Lennon
PWR 209
NeoVox Article

18 or 21, That Is The Question.
Should the drinking age in the United States be 18 or 21? This is currently a question that is being considered by many lawmakers, and is also being scrutinized and thoroughly reconsidered by the American public. In Vermont, legislators are in the process of introducing a bill in order to lower the drinking age to 18. However, Kerry Sleeper, Vermont’s public safety commissioner and other opponents of the bill, say the higher age has helped. They have proven that all fatal crashes involving alcohol dropped from 50 in 1986, the year the drinking age was raised, to 25 in 2002(Belluck). Although some feel that being over the age of 18 should give a person the right to drink alcohol, the main issue continues to be that alcohol can be detrimental to ones health, and raising the drinking age has been proven to improve problems associated with drinking.
Drinking and driving is a constant issue and continuous problem that has plagued The United States for many years. After dropping the drinking age limit to 18 in the 1960’s and 1970’s, legislators recognized that our society had a steady increase in the number of alcohol related driving accidents. In light of evidence linking this to younger drinking ages, President Ronald Reagan appointed a Presidential Commission on Drunk Driving in 1982. This commission recommended the passage of legislature, requiring all states to raise their minimum drinking age to 21, and in 1984 President Reagan signed legislation to deny federal highway funds from any state that did not comply (A.M.A.). Currently, all fifty states have a minimum drinking age of 21, which has proven to be very successful in reducing problems related to drunk driving. In Research conducted by NHTSA (The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration), it is estimated that because of drinking age being raised to 21, there have been reduced traffic fatalities involving drivers 18 to 20 years old by 13 percent in since 1975 (M.A.D.D.). Similarly, as illustrated in the graph below, it is estimated that since 1975 these laws have saved 21,887 lives as well (N.H.T.S.A.). These statistics show that

acquiring a higher minimum drinking age has had a positive impact on our countries problems with drunk driving. As far as the oppositions statements claiming that lowering the drinking age can possibly solve this problem, state motor vehicle fatality data from the United States, found that lowering the drinking age from 21 to 18 during the 1970’s resulted in an 11 percent increase in fatalities among this age group (Cook). Although still a problem in The United States, this shows that maintaining a drinking age of 21 will be more successful in the fight against drunk driving.
Drinking and driving is a very big problem, but equally as significant, there are many problems with people ages 18 to 21 drinking in a very dangerous and irresponsible manner called binge drinking. This is the consumption of dangerously large quantities of alcoholic beverages in one session. A new trend, binge drinking is becoming a very big problem and has been very prevalent in the high school and college drinking scene. According to a National Household Survey on Drug Abuse, 1 in 5 persons aged 12 to 20 engaged in binge drinking in 2001, which is 70 percent of underage people who report drinking alcohol in the last month (N.H.S.D.A.). With an extremely high percentage like this, it shows that when drinking, people of this age group are not being responsible. Also, 48 percent of all 21 years olds report that they have engaged in binge drinking in the last month (N.H.S.D.A.). With a steady rise in binge drinking rates that begin at age 12 and peek at age 21, this proves that with drinking being legal, the rates of binge drinking significantly increase (N.H.S.D.A.). Lowering the minimum drinking age would make it easier for these younger kids to obtain alcohol, causing theses already high rates of binge drinking to increase. Opposing the “Forbidden Fruit” argument which argues that lowering the drinking age to 18 will reduce the allure of alcohol as a “Forbidden Fruit”, this could be very dangerous, and with the safety of our youth in mind, there is no logical reason why the drinking age should be lowered (A.M.A.).
Drunk driving and binge drinking are not the only problems associated with drinking alcohol, there are many other risks that people take when drinking as well. Most of these problems are exacerbated by drinking at a young age, and many can lead to serious health problems. One of these problems is that the younger a person begins using alcohol, the greater the risk of them developing alcohol dependence or abuse some time in their life. Of those who begin drinking at age 18, 16.6 percent subsequently are classified with alcohol dependence and 7.8 percent with alcohol abuse. However, If a person waits until age 21 before taking their first drink, these risks decrease by over 60 percent (Grant). These statistics are quite alarming, but with the minimum drinking age at 21, the amount of underage drinking is lower than if the age was 18. Another serious problem that is associated with drinking alcohol is the physical damage it can do when abused or drank at a young age. The human brain continues to develop into the early 20’s, and drinking alcohol can be harmful to its development. It has also been documented that regular alcohol use during adolescence can produce abnormal physiological effects, like sub clinical liver damage likely in adolescents with diagnosed alcohol problems. It was also found that long-term abusers of alcohol are at risk for serious debilitating diseases during adulthood (D.H.H.S.). Alcohol dependence is not any easy thing to control unless a person is given proper treatment, and if it is not treated it can potentially lead to these serious health related problems. Lowering the drinking age would only add to the people taking these risks, on the other hand, keeping the minimum drinking age at 21 would keep young people healthy by postponing the onset of alcohol use (A.M.A.).
One argument frequently presented by the opposition holds that if at age 18, people can vote, smoke, sign contracts, and join the military. Why is it illegal for them to drink alcohol? The fact is that ages of initiation can in fact vary. For example, a person can vote at 18, drink at 21, rent a car at 25, and run for president at 35. These ages may seem subjective, however, they take into account the requirements, risks, and benefits of each act (A.M.A.). In 1996, Manuel Ortiz challenged the minimum drinking age of 21, in a Louisiana State Supreme Court hearing. The court upheld the law, stating that, “...statutes establishing the minimum drinking age at a higher level than the age of majority are not arbitrary because they substantially further the appropriate governmental purpose of improving highway safety, and thus are constitutional. (A.M.A.)”. Drinking alcohol is not a necessity and can be very harmful when abused. In addition, there is too much evidence confirming that alcohol is the source of a great deal of problems in the United States. Therefore, affirming the fact that the minimum drinking age should continue to be 21.
While many people feel that the minimum drinking age should be lowered to 18, there is an overwhelming amount of factual evidence that suggest otherwise. Dangerous habits like driving drunk and binge drinking have brought about these laws that decline alcohol to people under the age of 21. Also, research has been done that proves underage drinking to be a health hazard that has been drastically improved as a result of the higher drinking age. Drinking may currently still be a problem, however lowering the minimum drinking age to 18 will only make the problem worse.

Works Cited
1. A.M.A. AlcoholpolicyMD.com. 7 Mar 2002. American Medical Association. 14 Sept. 2005 .

2. Belluck, Pam. "Vermont Considers Lowering Drinking Age to 18." The New York Times 13 April 2005: A13.

3. Cook, PJ and G Tauchen, “The Effects of Minimum Drinking Age Legislation on Youthful Auto Fatalities, 1970 - 1977,” Journal of Legal Studies, 15(4):159-162, 1984.

4. D.H.H.S. “U.S. Teens in our world: Understanding the Health of U.S. youth in comparison to youth in other countries.” Department of Health and Human Services, Washington, D.C. 2003
http://www.eric.ed.gov/ERICDocs/data/ericdocs2/content_storage_01/0000000b/80/24/55/80.pdf

5. Grant, BF and DA Dawson, “Age of Onset of Alcohol Use and Its Association with DSM-IV Alcohol Abuse and Dependence: Results from the National Longitudinal Alcohol Epidemiologic Study,” Journal of Substance Abuse, 9:103-110, 1997.

6. M.A.D.D. "Statistics on Minimum Drinking Age Laws." www.MADD.org. Mothers Against Destructive Desicions. 16 Sept. 2005 .

7. N.H.T.S.A. "Traffic Saftey Facts 2002 (Alcohol)." . 16 Sept. 2005 .

Posted by Steven Lennon at 2:44 PM | TrackBack

Child Warriors

I saw in a Neovox article that many countries are enlisting very young children as spies, messengers, suicide bombers and eventually -- if the child survives to age nine or ten -- full fledged soldiers in the revolution. I applaud the leaders' innovation. By recruiting the future zealots at such an early age, these clear thinking idealists have insured that wars will never end. Bravo! This is the license we need to fuel our already war-based economy and continue to act as the world's police forever. I thought it might be a good idea to target children for destruction so that this cycle might possibly be interrupted, but it occured to me that any government that was as anti-abortion as the present administration would certainly frown on post-natal abortion (but then what else is genocide if not that?) So who's with me? We petition the government to stop all these wars, police actions, peace keeping missions and assorted killing sprees no matter under what euphamism they occur against adults, then with all the resources we have on hand, we kill all the children in every developing nation so that we won't have to fight them when they grow up. It's nothing short of genius. I'm surprised that no one has employed this idea since Biblical times. I'll bet that we even have some scientists who will be able to research and develop WCD (Weapons of Childhood Destruction) What this innovative weapons' system would entail is hard to say, but one would hope that everything from poison lollipops to collapsing swing sets would be reviewed. Of course if standard riflery were employed only slight adjustments would be needed: "Aim lower and don't lead them so much. -- They're shorter and don't run so fast as adults." So we could get some forces into the actions right away. The important thing is to start soon so that we can begin the attack while these future warriors are still young enough to be classified as children. This is an opportunity that should not be missed. Additionally, we will save a good deal of money in foreign aid -- as time goes on that is, not right away of course, but we must look at this as an investment in a peaceful future.

Posted by Joseph Lampiasi at 10:45 AM | TrackBack

Out of the Old into the New

College- it’s that exotic, exciting, alcohol consuming, class skipping, party paradise you spent most of your high school career fantasizing about. Your bags are packed two weeks before you’re set to leave, you’ve acquired all your friends e-mail addresses and screen names, and you’re ready to have that good-bye dinner with your significant other.
And for someone reason, he/she is the hardest person to say good-bye to. The water works begin, you can’t stop hugging each other, and the moment you’re in the car traveling to that magical place you’ve been dreaming about sans parents, you two are on the phone saying how much you miss each other.
Time warp to about a month later and normal long distance couples are usually the ones you’ll see standing in the hallway or rec room, with the girl usually crying her eyes out and shrieking about the possibility of a break up.
Usually, they don’t last very long.
Even the most hopeless romantic has to admit that the possibility of a long-term, long distance relationship is slim to none. It’s hard to be without someone for long periods of time while establishing a new life for yourself. The distance between you becomes greater than a few thousand miles.
The next step is the break-up. Once that’s over and done with a new world is ahead of you. You’re living on your own with no parents to answer to and now you’re single. The idea of playing it safe is still in the back of your head just because your mother did such a fabulous job instilling her moral values there, but you decide you would love to have a relationship with someone the next dorm over.
This is where the reality of being on your own for the first time settles in. When you do actually meet someone who’s as interested in you as you are in him, the easy access of it all becomes so apparent that emotions are swept up in a whirl wind of sleep-over’s and party hopping.
When you were home you could have dated someone all four years of high school and you probably only snuck out of the house a few times so the two of you could have a night together. Good parents usually keep a good lock on their children so that no “experimentation” is happening too early.
Now the responsibility has fallen completely on your own shoulders and it’s finally up to you to make some healthy decisions. It’s so strange how college relationships work. In reality, you become so much more invested in them then you ever would have in another relationship and that might be because of the freedom you now have to do what you will with them.
If you just begin to date someone, there’s no more curfew to get home by. The only thing making you leave his/her bedroom is your own judgment. And with constant sleep-over’s and a rapidly growing intimate setting the two of you develop, your emotions become tied together even faster.
So which is better? Long-distance love or up-close and personal connections? Either way, they are both very touch and go. When dealing with long distance you have to trust someone completely and constantly prove to them that you’re trustworthy. Of course in any relationship you have to prove trust, but when he/she lives only a block over it’s easier to trust someone when you can constantly see what they’re doing, or know the people they are hanging around with.
You soon develop this “move-in” complex. He/she is constantly sleeping over; their clothes start to accumulate so much they eventually get their own drawer. You start seeing their little personality traits around your apartment as well as their favorite cereal box in your cabinet, and eventually, the toothbrush settles itself next to yours.
And all of this just happened within a month’s time.
Most grown up relationships don’t even move this quickly. When adults in the “real world” begin dating, there may be the occasional over-nighter, but due to schedules for work or their other responsibilities the idea of moving their personal belongings into your apartment isn’t a thought until things actually become serious.
College students do this at a whim. Yet, maybe the idea of “living” with someone actually is beneficial. You see the person you’re dating in his/her entirety. They become a full character in your life instead of a one-sided boy/girlfriend. In reality, this can actually strengthen the relationship. If his room is so unkempt that you’re finding ex-girlfriend remains around the room, maybe it’s time for a talk. If she keeps unfinished Ben and Jerry’s underneath her bed that are starting to develop maggots, maybe you might want to find someone with a more Martha Stewart vibe.
So even though long-distance love simmered to a passing phone call, up and close relationships in college can be the next best thing to happen to you.
First being your education, of course.

Posted by Deena Aglialoro at 10:36 AM | TrackBack

neovox short story

Leonard Broytman
Writing in Cyberspace
September 21, 2005

            Mercilessly making its way through the cold November air, the wind pounds against Sal’s face with force and just enough might to send him racing for the stairs heading downward that are just ahead.
            Flying down the steps towards the warmth of the crowded sea of bodies waiting on the platform, Sal stares down at morning rush and prepares himself for another long day down at the bureau. He eyes everyone he passed with suspicion and extreme unease as he passes, pushing through the sardine can which has formed on the tiny platform. He has made a living out of trusting his instincts and doing all that he can to provide safety and peace of mind to those around him. But those days seem to be behind him now for the instincts he once valued are beginning to dull down.
            Sal checks for the possibility of an oncoming train but it is nowhere in sight. He stands at the edge of the platform, cautiously eyeing the groggy eyelids staring back at him. The morning looks just as any other but then again, well that’s how it always happens. He knows better than to simply accept the normal circumstances around him and take them for what they appear to be.
            His eyes drift from person to person but everything seems to be in order. A young mother busily looking after a rather active toddler, an old man reading the paper at the early hour even though he is dressed as if he has seemingly nowhere important to be… yeah, everything looks about just right. But what about that guy over in the corner behind the two garbage cans. Why the hell is he looking around like that?
            Sal begins to watch him rather closely and studies his every move as he mentally anguishes over the possible meaning and tires to interpret the subject from afar. He stands as the train arrives at the platform, most of the morning commute whizzing by him in an effort to secure a comfortable seat once inside. He continues to observe the rather peculiar man who has now turned and is beginning to walk away, still looking around as if wondering if anyone can or is in fact watching him. He begins to make his way down the nearly deserted platform as he buries one hand deep in his pant pocket, the other clutching a small brown bag. He continues to walk as he steadily picks up the pace, almost power-walking towards the exit. With his head now buried between his shoulders, he hurries faster and faster, doing everything he can to leave the platform as quickly as he can. Sal doesn’t even think twice about it as he unflinchingly follows.
            All of a sudden, the man turns into a staircase previously unseen to Sal as he begins to down to a lower platform for train heading the opposite direction into Queens. This platform however is far from deserted and makes the mysterious man a bit hard to follow. Sal begins to exhale painfully as he searches for the man, his thoughts racing over the danger that is about to be inflicted on all of the innocent and unsuspecting people around him. He pushes through the crowd, impervious to the groans of those he disturbs. This is for their own good.
            He finally spots the man standing near a group of young kids and notices that the man is still holding the bag. Sal slowly walks through the crowd, somewhat relaxed and inconspicuous. He locks eyes with the man but for some reason, the man does not react and simply looks away. After a few more moments, the man turns and begins to walk yet again. This time however, Sal does not waste any time as he darts down the platform.
            Yet again however, Sal turns the corner to find nothing but bodies… the man absolutely nowhere to be seen. Sal stumbles around for a few moments as he tries to pull himself together and consider his next move. He decides that there is nothing that can be done now but feels confident about what he had just prevented. Whatever that may be is something that Sal cannot even begin to think about… or maybe he just doesn’t want to.
            He looks down at his watch and realizes that he is going to be late once again. He turns and begins to walk back to his platform as his feet suddenly stumble upon something, nearly causing Sal to fall. He stands for a moment as he eyes the small brown bag laying on the ground. He stands for a moment as he studies the half-eaten tuna salad on rye which has slipped out of the bag and onto the pavement.

Posted by Leonard Broytman at 9:55 AM | TrackBack

Copyright Infringement?

Check out this article. Google is being sued for Copyright Infringement. I'm not quite sure what my opinion of this is yet. When I have a little more free time, I'll read it again and comment about it. Just thought it was some interesting news relevant to this class.

Click here to view the site.

Posted by Ashley Lauro at 9:35 AM | TrackBack

copyright and cyberspatial ethics

Another extended quote from Lessig:

Wars of prohibition are nothing new in America. This one is just something more extreme than anything we've seen before. We experimented with alcohol prohibition, at a time when the per capita consumption of alcohol was 1.5 gallons per capita per year. The war against drinking initially reduced that consumption to just 30 percent of its preprohibition levels, but by the end of prohibition, consumption was up to 70 percent of the preprohibition level. Americans were drinking just about as much, but now, a vast number were criminals.17 We have launched a war on drugs aimed at reducing the consumption of regulated narcotics that 7 percent (or 16 million) Americans now use. 18 That is a drop from the high (so to speak) in 1979 of 14 percent of the population. We regulate automobiles to the point where the vast majority of Americans violate the law every day. We run such a complex tax system that a majority of cash businesses regularly cheat. 19 We pride ourselves on our “free society,” but an endless array of ordinary behavior is regulated within our society. And as a result, a huge proportion of Americans regularly violate at least some law.
This state of affairs is not without consequence. It is a particularly salient issue for teachers like me, whose job it is to teach law students about the importance of “ethics.” As my colleague Charlie Nesson told a class at Stanford, each year law schools admit thousands of students who have illegally downloaded music, illegally consumed alcohol and sometimes drugs, illegally worked without paying taxes, illegally driven cars. These are kids for whom behaving illegally is increasingly the norm. And then we, as law professors, are supposed to teach them how to behave ethically—how to say no to bribes, or keep client funds separate, or honor a demand to disclose a document that will mean that your case is over. Generations of Americans—more significantly in some parts of America than in others, but still, everywhere in America today—can't live their lives both normally and legally, since “normally” entails a certain degree of illegality.

The response to this general illegality is either to enforce the law more severely or to change the law. We, as a society, have to learn how to make that choice more rationally. Whether a law makes sense depends, in part, at least, upon whether the costs of the law, both intended and collateral, outweigh the benefits. If the costs, intended and collateral, do outweigh the benefits, then the law ought to be changed. Alternatively, if the costs of the existing system are much greater than the costs of an alternative, then we have a good reason to consider the alternative.

My point is not the idiotic one: Just because people violate a law, we should therefore repeal it. Obviously, we could reduce murder statistics dramatically by legalizing murder on Wednesdays and Fridays. But that wouldn't make any sense, since murder is wrong every day of the week. A society is right to ban murder always and everywhere.

My point is instead one that democracies understood for generations, but that we recently have learned to forget. The rule of law depends upon people obeying the law. The more often, and more repeatedly, we as citizens experience violating the law, the less we respect the law. Obviously, in most cases, the important issue is the law, not respect for the law. I don't care whether the rapist respects the law or not; I want to catch and incarcerate the rapist. But I do care whether my students respect the law. And I do care if the rules of law sow increasing disrespect because of the extreme of regulation they impose. Twenty million Americans have come of age since the Internet introduced this different idea of “sharing.” We need to be able to call these twenty million Americans “citizens,” not “felons.”

When at least forty-three million citizens download content from the Internet, and when they use tools to combine that content in ways unauthorized by copyright holders, the first question we should be asking is not how best to involve the FBI. The first question should be whether this particular prohibition is really necessary in order to achieve the proper ends that copyright law serves. Is there another way to assure that artists get paid without transforming forty-three million Americans into felons? Does it make sense if there are other ways to assure that artists get paid without transforming America into a nation of felons?

Now,as I have been saying, I agree with the notion of protecting the labors of creators and innovators, but to make this issue about that is truly misleading. This issue is about a few major corporations and their profits. Do you think those corporatins are interested in protecting the rights of artists? Of course not. Their function is to squeeze as much profit for their shareholders out of artistic labor.

The function of media corporations is to exploit creators and innovators for profit. That exploitation has been, is, and will be far worse than any everyday citizens could accomplish by sharing media.

I would contend our rejection of copyright, as a culture, is not a rejection of or disrespect for artists' rights but a rejection of the role of corporations in regulating our culture.

Posted by Alex Reid at 5:56 AM | TrackBack

September 20, 2005

Here's my first Neovox article...

“Be good to your Mother”. “She’s the reason you’re here today”. “Would you talk to your Mother with that mouth?” All voiced reminders you may be taking your Mother for granted. You may roll your eyes when your Father tells you to mind her, thinking to yourself “She is so goddamn suffocating, I cant wait to live on my own.” You’re being dropped off at your first day of Junior High, you make her drop you off at the farthest corner of the school so that it looks like the two of you aren’t together, let alone blood-related. You’re bringing over the new boyfriend or girlfriend and that first meeting seems to go by slower than any Math class you’ve had to sustain, thinking to yourself “Please God...don’t let her tell the story of when I was two and a half, saw the dog shitting in the front yard so I decided to do so myself under the Christmas tree.” When her life ends, you’ll feel a gaping hole at first that whispers to you all of the things you wish you had told her, growing smaller with time but never completely healing. For the first couple months you realize what everyone meant in saying that you are lucky to have her and it the hardest thing you’ve ever had to adjust to- this is it, you’re on your own. Although, it is a whole different thing, to have her alive and very much so a part of your life, feeling as if you had lost her years ago to something more harmful than death itself.
*************************
It had been three weeks since her Mother disappeared for the approximate 243rd time. She came back that day to “recharge her battery” as the Grandmother put it. The daughter was simply grateful her car hadn’t been incorporated into the vanishing this time. Mother walks in looking pathetic and worn out from her extensive all night (and all day) partying over the past 2 weeks- or had it been three? She had no recollection. The daughter’s face conveys no emotion- she’s grown numb to such things as worry or relief to see her mother alive and in tact.
Mother says “Hi. I was at a friends. He’s having a really rough time, his uh brother passed away and he really doesn’t have anyone there for him. I called your cell phone but it went right to your voice mail I think.” Daughter processes and discards the excuse into the never-ending stash she’s stored away in her memory. Daughter says “We have to be out by the first of the month, your social worker called and your benefits wont go through because you’re not in compliance with your treatment. I cant afford the full $750 this month or any other month for that matter. This just isn’t going to work.” Daughter watches Mother’s face waiting for her to crack, show some sign of remorse, any trace of the woman she once knew in this frail, abused body standing before her. At the age of twelve it would’ve been difficult, but now almost twenty one she’d constructed a penetrable but usually reliable shield blocking her emotions from her tear ducts. Daughter feels like the parent who’s just finished dishing out a good serving of how dare you come home passed curfew. She’d give anything for this to be reversed. She laughs inside thinking she may be the only teenager in history to wish she were, at present, being grounded by her Mother. Mother says “Doesn’t Aaron owe you $310?” Daughter says “He doesn’t have it right now and you know just as well as I do that $310 wont so much as temporarily solve our problem.”
Mother walks into the kitchen, appearing 5-10 pounds lighter than she had two weeks ago. Mumbling something about the refrigerator being empty, she walks back into the living room, dragging her feet out of seemingly disappointment. Mother breaks the silence “Nana hasn’t sent anything over lately? No goodies?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, she’s afraid of what a pause might evoke from her Daughter. “Can I use your cell phone? I wanna see if she’ll lend me some bus fare.” Even though this is far from the first time she’s been in this position, making eye contact with her daughter cuts through her with the force of a machete. Having no dignity is one thing that has never gotten easy...or has it? Don’t think about it now she tells herself. Or maybe it’s the soberness, she’s conscious of the empty feeling that comes with not being high on crack. She’ll soon need to escape again to fill that void, to dull her senses to the reality she’s created for herself. “I’ll worry about it tomorrow” she thinks. Tomorrow never seems to find its way to her.
Two weeks later, the first of the month is tomorrow. Mother disappeared for the 244th time yesterday, leaving her daughter to pack the contents of the house on her own. Her father has come with a U-Haul and they spend the next seven hours loading and unloading. Daughter fronts the $54.00 plus tax for the storage space for Mother’s things. It may have been the perseverant snow that had started its ascendance the night before, or the couple hundred dollars he lent to her for the U-Haul, either way her Father had every intention on making the experience that much more intolerable. It seemed that with each inch of snowfall, her Father had another paraphrasing for “I told you so”. He had made all aware of his disapproval from the get-go, his Daughter renting out a house for herself and her Mother in attempt to help her Mother back on her feet. It had been bound for failure before it had been a mere consideration, but he was never able to convince his hard-headed daughter of this. It pained him to know she had thought she could save her Mother. He was among the first to lose all hope in his ex’s recovery and chance at getting her life back on track.
Next came the Grandmother, as neurotic and psychologically bruised as any normal, old woman could be. She’d never say so of course but she often blamed herself for her Daughter turning into the waste of life she had become. It was this guilt that fueled the continuing of loaned bus fare, hand me down furniture for each “new start” apartment, groceries and considerable amounts of shopping sprees. In addition to her escorting her Daughter repeatedly to rehab, this was the Grandmother’s contribution. She had no words, no pleas, no loving intervention, her emotions were never as open as her wallet. “Love is a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food in your belly”- this motto reigned true in her mind throughout the years she raised her Grandchildren as well. Pre-junior high is when the two girls were handed over. The day their Mother traded them in for the poison.
The Daughter made a conscious effort to remember 5th grade and every year before it almost daily. She was afraid that neglecting to do so would let certain things she’d like to remember about her Mother slip through the cracks, forgotten. Cornbread muffins on Thanksgiving. Reindeer made out of candy canes and pipe cleaners around Christmas. Learning to count money, and being ecstatic when she was allowed to keep the loose change. The ice cream man, making the other kids jealous because he’d give her free ice cream (everyone had a crush on her Mom). Shopping sprees to the Dollar Store (any elementary students dream come true) whenever she’d get an A in class. The not so happy memories were just as relevant, they stood for discipline, the Mother and Daughter had evolved into more of a friendship since the poison had been introduced. Roles reversed.
Daughter is moved into her new apartment with her girlfriends from High school. It is the 5th of the month and her cell phone caller id reads: “restricted”. Daughter knows she’s not wrong in assuming, “Hello Mom” she says. Mother says “Hey, how are ya?” (No pause) “What’s going on with the house?” Daughter says “I was up 48 hours packing and moving, but it’s done.” Mother doesn’t seemed phased. “What about the cats?” Daughter replying “They’re out too” Mother: “You didn’t leave anything in my room right?” Daughter: “Your desk, I had no room for it.” Mother’s silence is obvious pouting and resentment. Daughter’s bitterness and cold tone unintentionally turns to guilt and reassurance, “Maybe Grandma will take me over to get it with the station wagon.” Mother sounds reassured “Think she’ll let me come? I’m at my friend’s apartment and we really need toilet paper...I’m dying for chocolate...God knows I don’t need it...try and sneak me a care package...I love you” click. “Ditto”, Daughter whispers to the dial tone.
It takes a month before her caller id reads “restricted” again. Mother is needing to borrow money to pay the next month’s rent on her storage unit. Two more months pass and Mother is dating a black man in his fifties who (shh it’s secret) sells crack cocaine. She brags of the money he spends on her, although oddly enough hasn’t a penny to repay to her Daughter. Dealer gets caught and thrown in jail. Mother calls intermittently asking for hand-me-down shoes. Three months later the new boyfriend is “the one”. He has his act together, his own house, good father to his children, and a good job. He’ll be the one to rescue her from the poison. Another month passes and Daughter gets a call requesting that she confirm to the boyfriend that she did indeed give her Mother those old shoes, that old sweater, those earrings she didn’t wear anymore. Boyfriend is psychotic and assumes his woman has been cheating, her sugar daddy must’ve bought her all of these things. The piece of lint on her shirt is remnants of the man who she supposedly spent the day with while he was at work. Daughter hears of bruises, police calls, restraining orders, but hasn’t found time to hunt down her Mother. It’s funny how the human brain tries to heal itself, blocking entire people from entering a particular train of thought. A week later, phone reads “restricted”, she wants a ride to the emergency room but wont say why. The car ride reveals he’s indeed been abusive, and this isn’t the first time. She thinks her ribs are broken, and is furious that the hospital calls the police (obligated to by law). She wont press charges, she seems to like playing this role. Daughter feels guilty for thinking that her Mother is taking the abuse because for once, she can blame the destruction flooding her life on someone other than herself. They arrive back at the boyfriend’s house. The entire way Mother begs her not to say a word to him, because she knows her daughter better than that. She knows she intended on attempting more than words, in times like these her daughter likes to pretend she isn’t a female half the size of the person she’s confronting. Daughter complies and hates herself for it. Over the course of the next week, Daughter is moving Mother and her “necessities” to a battered women’s shelter. Mother is concerned about the rest of her stuff and what he might do to it out of spite. “My stomach flip flops just thinking about it, I cant lose everything- its all I’ve got”. Something in the Daughter has, at that exact moment in time, let go. A faint flame that up until now, regardless of any weathering, has burned in her. Strongest at first, hopeful and naive. Over years she had felt it getting colder, felt it go out in those around her...in anyone her Mother came to let down again and again. Those last three words hit her ear drums, embracing every nerve in her body, ricocheting off her heart and hitting its target, flame extinguished. “All I’ve got.” She watches her Mother push the cart containing clothes, TV, makeup case and stuffed pig (gift from previous boyfriend) into the elevator.
Three weeks come and go. Daughter hears rumors Mother has a plan. The Reverend working with the shelter has made her an offer to help get her an apartment, but she has to get clean. That poor Reverend.
It’s been 5 weeks, Daughter packs her car. She’s transferring schools, severing herself from every street sign, old/new apartment that she’s called “home”. Cell phone lights up reading “restricted”. Daughter hits ignore.

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 10:22 PM | TrackBack

Psst, pass the handcuffs.

re-edited essay

Stop for a moment and think about anything different you’ve ever done while having sex. Have you ever role played? Incorporate toys like handcuffs or a blind fold? Have you ever bitten your partner, be it lightly or a little rough during sex or foreplay? Talked dirty? If you have then congratulations! You’ve just practiced some light BDSM.

Don’t panic just yet. This does NOT make you a pervert.

It’s come to my attention that a great number of people have a grand misconception of what BDSM truly is, no thanks to some persistent social folkways and/or the media. When people hear that acronym, or words associated with it (pain, rape, or torture just to name a few) they’ll think of some very dark things like serial killers or beaten victims in chains. These are very incorrect visions of what the true BDSM subculture is about.

BDSM stands, roughly, for Bondage, Dominance, and SadoMasochism. Yes, I realize that spelling it out only makes it sound worse. Bondage, dominance, and sadomasochism are scary words, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that the acts behind those words are scary.

If you have ever used handcuffs or a blindfold or even role played then you, my friend, are practicing the basics of light bondage and dominance. BDSM is about positive sensation (physical and emotional), trust and equality. The objective is that you and your partner both receive maximum satisfaction.

Let’s start with using the blindfold as a beginning example. When you’re blindfolded your other senses become stronger, most importantly your sense of touch. Simple touches become more intense and your body becomes more responsive, especially towards pleasure and pain reception.

That’s the point. It’s about giving and receiving positive sensations.

One person’s pain is another person’s pleasure, and that’s a key element for BDSM. For another example, some people like to be spanked because they find it stimulating, not painful, depending on the degree of pressure behind the slap. The pleasurable sensation is so teasingly close to where you want the most attention. For some people to be spanked is a sheer thrill, not a degrading punishment.

Now comes the toys. This is where a common person’s perception of whips, chains, and nipple clamps comes into play. Scary toys, I know, but again, it all has to do with each individual’s perception of pain and pleasure, and to what degree their partner will use with these tools. Some people might enjoy being whipped until they are covered in welts and some people might only be able to stand nothing more than a few light taps. It varies from person to person and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Now, after understanding how sensation plays in the BDSM world there are still some parts that can throw people off. This is usually a fetish. A fetish is any object which has sexual connotations for a person. Some of the more bizarre ones are what will throw people off. I’m sure some of you are thinking of something you’ve seen or heard, be it scat (feces fetish) or painful sounding fetishes such as whipping or flogging. Once again, one person’s pain is another’s pleasure.

There is nothing wrong with having a fetish (although it’s perfectly ok to be disgusted by some. Scat is not a turn on for me, personally). Actually, I find it unhealthy for a person to have no fetish at all. This makes me worry for two reasons. One, you have a fetish so morally unacceptable that you’re too ashamed to say what it is, be it a fetish for small children animals or corpses or whatever else sounds perverted. Or two, you have a very strong fear of sex and of feeling aroused in general, which I do not find too healthy for one’s mental state or social life.

Besides, views on sexual behavior, like everything else in society, changes over time. For example, did you know that today more heterosexual couples practice and enjoy anal sex than homosexual couples? In fact anal sex is something I would encourage upon couples, since it involves so much trust, patience, and, most importantly, communication. Communication, as we all know, is dire to successful long-lasting relationship.

I know many people find anal sex disgusting, but it’s perfectly safe and clean when done right, like most fetishes (anal sex is a fetish if that’s what you mostly fantasize about). Then again it annoys me when people refer to anal sex as vile on the grounds that that is where waste comes from, but they forget entirely about oral sex. Waste comes out of there too, you know. Or at least you should know!

Trust is the biggest part of the BDSM world. You probably would never allow yourself to be blindfolded by a person you didn’t trust, let alone be handcuffed. A person in a healthy relationship would never need to be afraid of his or her partner, nor would his or her partner do something to that person without consent. This is true even in BDSM relationships, where there is bondage and rape fantasies a plenty. These are just fantasies that a couple is acting out for sexual gratification. They are not meant to be real or harmful in any way. A healthy couple knows this and understand it, regardless of their sexual interests, be it mainstream sex or hardcore BDSM play.

There is, however, a lot of arousal in knowing that your partner could do whatever s/he wanted to do to you when you’re in a helpless state. And that’s the point. Your “top,” the dominant partner or the one who is doing most of the work, has to be someone you MUST have complete trust in. It’s a bonding experience (no pun intended) that brings a couple closer together. Your partner must know what you do and don’t like, what makes you feel good and what makes you feel uncomfortable, and most importantly, how to exploit and use it to his/her advantage.

Even without the bindings there must be trust. This is where your master/slave, or whichever, role-playing-game comes into the picture. A top needs to know when his/her partner is enjoying being commanded and when s/he feels insecure or uncomfortable. Some women are aroused by being called degrading names in bed while others are terribly insulted and hurt. It’s up to their partners to know which they prefer.

There has to be as much equality in the relationship as there is trust. Just because a partner is commanding or demanding towards his/her significant other in the bedroom does mean that they are allowed to act that way outside of the bedroom. Either partner, the one doing that acting or the one being acted upon, should be able to call the stops on any situation that that person is uncomfortable with no matter what. One partner should not continue if the other doesn’t want to, nor should that person feel obligated to continue simply because that partner wants to.

Each partner should know what the other likes and doesn’t like, when and where to proceed or not, and what lengths they’re allowed to go with each other. Each must also respect whatever limitations or condition their partner may have. Because one man likes to be verbally humiliated in bed does not give his partner the right to do so in public.

Another misconception about BDSM practitioners is that they are perverts or were sexually abused at some previous point in their life. Neither is true. Many BDSM’ers grow up in normal families and homes. Again, it’s all about a person’s personal interests and kinks. Nor is a BDSM person someone you can easily point out on the street. You probably know a person who is fond of some light whipping or spanking or bondage and you’d never know it, nor would a person know that about you, just by looking at you. A pervert is the man in the trench coat in the park who walks up to you and, well, bares it all. That’s something of a violent act or could at least lead to a violent act.

BDSM has NOTHING to do with domestic violence. Domestic violence is one partner abusing the other verbally and/or physically. BDSM is about trust and equality. There is nothing equal in an abusive relationship. A person in a BDSM relationship knows whether or not his/her partner would like to be harmed or not, and will do whatever the partner desires.

This is not the same in an abusive relationship. One partner exhorts more power over the other and is abusive regardless of his or her desires. An abusive partner will hit the other regardless of his or her partner’s feelings. An abusive relationship may always lead to long-lasting injury, which is usually rare in a BDSM relationship.
Finally, some people may not understand BDSM because it is considered unethical, even criminal. There are in fact a few places were consensual SM is considered illegal. Mainly this is because of the lack of understanding in lawmakers between the difference between healthy sexual play and unhealthy sexual play. For example, healthy sexual play is handcuffing your partner to the bed and pleasuring him/her until s/he begs for some kind of sexual release. Unhealthy sexual play is handcuffing a stranger to the bed and harming the stranger while he or she begs to be released. See the difference? The bed and the handcuffs are there, and that’s what some people may see instead of the dissimilarity.

If you’re still confused and think BDSM is sick and twisted, then I will just have to refer you to other, more detailed, sources. I’m not saying you readers should go out this instant and buy a new set of cuffs or get some rope, but I’m simply asking you to understand that there’s nothing wrong about practicing sex a little differently than many people normally would. I don’t personally practice BDSM, but it does intrigue me and I don’t see any reason for it to be shunned. I honestly think it could help many people’s sex lives. Trust, equality, and giving each other maximum positive sensual gratification is what a healthy sex life is all about, after all.

sources: Sexuality.org
cleansheets.com

Posted by Whitney Worden at 8:29 PM | TrackBack

NeoVox Article

Click below to read.

For the five semesters I’ve lived on campus, I’ve had as many roommates. I’ve also lived in four different dorms.

Freshman year I lived in the Pit of one of the low rises. Basically the Pit is the basement, which meant two things. 1) My building was built into the side of a hill. Half of my room was sunk into the ground and my window was practically even with the grass outside. I was always disturbed by people passing my room. On weekends I was also woken up by drunken girls and boys returning from parties. 2) The rooms were only located on one half of the hallway, the half less sunk into the hill. There were also half as many college kids on my floor compared to the other three, so I was friends with nearly every one of them.

First semester I lived with an overweight white girl from upstate New York named “Gloria”. She and I got along very well. We had the same taste in music, movies, friends and, best of all, boys. We would talk about everything, every day. She even acted as my mother in a few senses. But that winter break she called to tell me she wasn’t going back for the second semester. I was crushed. Who would I get as my second roommate?

The move-in day for returning students came and I waited for my new roommate. The next day she arrived. Diane was a tall, skinny black girl from Brooklyn. Now, I’m not a racist and I have nothing against black people. I was raised in a central New York high school with only two black people in my graduating class. I was just not used to black people. She turned out to not be a bad roommate. She hardly ever left the room and listened to a different kind of music than I did, but we still got along.

The summer of 2004 came and went, and that fall I moved the third floor of a low rise across the street from my first dorm. My roommate was assigned, and Alicia was her name. She was tall, skinny, and blonde. We got along the first few weeks of school, but by October I was fed up with the dorm.

A few things were different about my third semester than my first two. I was on the third floor, which meant I had to climb three flights of stairs at least four times a day. My window was also high up off the ground, though the noises of the geese in the pond across the road could still be heard at the early morning hours. The dorm life was also different. At all hours of the day there was loud (and in my opinion, crappy) music being blasted down the hall. People were running up and down the hallway, screaming and being drunk at four in the morning. This made studying extremely hard.

I also was beginning to not get along with my roommate. She would ignore me and have a lot of people in the room when I was trying to study. I was unhappy with practically every aspect of my life and becoming extremely depressed. A lot of things went into my decision to move to a different dorm. Finally I met with my Residence Hall Director (RHD) and we discussed possible plans. I eventually moved into a suite in a high rise across the street, next to my first dorm.

A suite is a lot different than a double. There are six girls and four rooms. Two rooms are doubles (two girls living together) and two are singles (a girl living alone). There is a small common room that connects all the rooms and a private bathroom. The suite was on the sixth floor, and the common room window overlooked a cemetery. I was put into a room with Cassandra, a short, spunky, slightly pudgy girl who liked to talk. A few weeks in, we stopped talking. I’m not sure how it happened, but it did. I, once again, became depressed and sad. I felt uncomfortable anywhere I was. At the end of the semester, at one in the morning, we sat down and talked about what had happened. We came to an agreement to talk more and become better friends and the last two weeks of my sophomore year were wonderful.

This semester I am up the hill, in one of the oldest dorms on campus. It has three wings and three floors. Two of the wings are female and one is male, and each wing has its own bathroom. While it’s not the same as sharing with just five other girls, it’s nice not to have to share with thirty. My room is a lot different than my previous ones, which were just boxes. This one has angles and a neat structure to them. The dorm is also located close to the major buildings where classes are held. Living up the hill has its disadvantages, though. All of the dining halls are down the hill, which means I have to trudge up and down it to eat.

My roommate’s name is Raquel. She’s a tall but sort of chubby girl who likes to talk but is willing to listen, too. Plus she’s really easy to talk to. She and I also have the same taste in music, which is hard to find on campus.

I’ve lived in different buildings and different parts of campus. Up the hill, down the hill, in high rises and low rises, in a double and in a suite, and things are different everywhere I go. I’ve also had an assortment of roommates, but they’ve all been good to me and I have tried to be good to them. I’m glad each semester has been different, because I might not have grown to be the person I am right now.

Posted by Heather Cobb at 8:09 PM | TrackBack

September 19, 2005

Neovox Article- looking for feedback

About halfway through writing this I lost whatever steam I had. TO which I wasn't able to really recover... so any feedback would be more than welcome.

There’s an old cliché that goes something like this, “a picture is worth a thousand words.” So what happens if you mix both words and pictures? Does it increase to two thousand words? Probably not, but it’s an interesting question.
Novels as we know them are a dying breed. For years they have been becoming simpler with less substance but perhaps, more style. Blame it on our fast-paced immediate satisfaction attitude, but written works have by and large become much more action packed, less descriptive. If Dickens were alive today, he wouldn’t make a buck much less sell a book.
Who in their right mind would sit through the vast descriptions and inner turmoil of young Pip in Great Expectations if it went into production for the first time today? Well I know I have, but then again I have a lot of free time on my hands. Though Dickens created a world that abounds with imagery, it isn’t readily accessible. It takes paragraph after paragraph to get it all down. I might even go so far as to say, long-winded, but I wouldn’t say that about Charles.

“I took her hand in mine and we went out of the ruined place; and, as the morning mists had risen long ago when I first left the forge, so the evening mists were rising now, and in all the broad expanse of tranquil light they showed to me, I saw the shadow of no parting from her.” –Great Expectations pg, 493

You can almost see this scene painted in your mind. The language is that good. You could paint a picture, or at least draw one, of this very scene. Any amateur could do it. Dickens’s works could in be reproduced today, and enjoy marvelous success, but not in the traditional format, but perhaps something revolutionary, a genre that blurs the line between tradition and experiment.
So I will offer this up, Dickens could in fact survive, and thrive if he worked in the modern world in the graphic novel format. You might be saying, don’t you mean a comic book? And I might be saying, “Hell, no!” A graphic novel is what it sounds like; it combines pictures and words to create a synthesis between the written word and the painted picture. It cuts away the fat, leaving only the choicest pieces.
Comics and graphic novels have been gaining popularity in the past couple of years. We have Hollywood to thank for that. In the past four years, countless movies based on these genres have come out, many of them to much acclaim. Spider-Man, Batman and Superman are the three most obvious. But then you have Hellboy, Sin City, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and the yet to be released V is For Vendetta.
Graphic Novels are by no means for children. They deal with adult themes, and that doesn’t even have to mean sex and violence. One’s like Maus and Persepololis deal with the Holocaust and the Islamic Revolution in Iran, respectively. They are not comic, but through the use of a well chosen wording, and often times stark imagery, they deal with subjects in a way that makes them accessible to everyone. From a high-school global studies student, to a thirty-five year old professional with little leisure time, could not only read these rather quickly, but come away with the same, if not heightened sense, of the gravity of the situation as some one who just finished reading a 300 page book on the subject.
The graphic novel is an art-form like no other. It requires concise language, and appropriate art. This appropriate art could range from simple black and white drawing like those found in Maus and Persepolis, to full blown painted artwork, like those from acclaimed artist, Alex Ross or anywhere in between.
So now you’ve been convinced that maybe you should check out this genre, but don’t know where to begin. Well you’re in luck. These are some of the representative works from the vast array out there:

1.) Kingdom Come- Writer: Mark Weid, Artist: Alex Ross.
This is an Else-Worlds tale from the DC universe. So yes, it does have Super-heroes in it. But the subject matter is very deep. A normal man is contracted to decide the fate of the entire earth. So we get a different perspective on the super-hero/villain universe as a whole, that of the average man. It raises many interesting questions, like what makes someone a superhero, to what kind of justice is due a criminal? Weid doesn’t hold anything back. He gives a full well rounded story that would make anyone think.
If the description of the story doesn’t interest you, read it for the artwork alone. There is no other artist like Mr. Ross. His paintings are so realistic; they could be mistaken for photographs. There is no cartoonish quality to it, just pure unadulterated art that fits the seriousness of the story perfectly.

2.) Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood- Writer: Marjane Satrapi Artist: Marjane Satrapi
Persepolis follows the life of a young girl growing up before and then during the Islamic Revolution of Iran. It depicts some serious scenes, such as torture, bombing, and demonstrations, without being overly graphic. This fits the mood of the book very well. Ms. Satrapi does not want her message to be drowned out because of the images, they are to enhance the story not overshadow it. The running narrative, panel to panel, is interesting and makes the story flow along very smoothly.
The art is black and white, a very simplistic approach. This is part of the appeal of the art. Its simplicity allows her to show some of the more gratuitous scenes, without fear of disgusting or driving anyone away. This and Maus, are must reads for anyone who is looking for a realistic/historical story portrayed in this format.

3.) The Sandman Series- Writer: Neil Gaiman Artist: Various
Neil Gaiman cut his teeth writing various comics for DC. It wasn’t until he was asked to do a mini-series on a long retired character that he really came into his own. The Sandman story is by no means a comic book. It transcends that completely. The story is adult, dealing with life, death, love, and almost anything else you can think of in a unique way. Neil is one of the best writers of the later 20th, early 21st century. His use of language is so consice yet original that it really is something to beheld. Authors such as Stephen King have begged to be allowed to write stories for his Sand Man universe. He has one numerous awards for the series. I cannot recommend highly enough any work by Gaiman. Aside from his comic book beginning he has gone on to find success with three bestselling novels, as well as several independent graphic novels.

Posted by Paul Murray at 6:21 PM | TrackBack

Neovox Article Of Mine

Soem of the indentations are off.

Mother Maker Destroyer

By Morgan Dunn

Allen just wanted his mother to leave him alone. She had been nagging him to clean up his room for a while now. “It’s my house and you do what I say when it comes to the cleaning,” she’d tell him.
Fuck that. Allen had to step out when she got like that, sometimes she’d curse and he didn’t like that one bit.
He walked down to the house of the Scientist. This man knew everything there was to know. Allen liked to hang around him for this reason; he felt smarter than his mother while watching the Scientist built his contraptions.
On that day, he seemed particularly excited. “What are you so happy about?” Allen asked, slumping down on the couch in front of the Scientist’s machine.
“Last night I built the most ingenious invention known to man!” the Scientist proclaimed. He turned to the boy after tweaking a few details of the machine on a screen. “This machine before you will control the weather. We’ll never need to worry about weather-related catastrophes ruining lives and homes again! I am a genius, of course you already knew that,” the Scientist said proudly.
Allen was intrigued. “Can I see it work?” he asked, leaning forward to get a better look. Electric lights and computer screens flashed on and off all over the contraption, a round mass with a satellite-receiver-like apparatus at the top pointing towards the sky.
“Of course! You’re just in time to see the first test run,” said the Scientist. He ran to one of the screens and input some information. “Let’s see...rain.”
The thing shook, beeped, and hummed, and the appendage at the top spun around. A few seconds later, they both looked and outside. Sure enough, rain was falling, a light drizzle.
The Scientist clapped, applauding himself. “Yes! Now, something more extreme…” he said, turning some knobs.
The rain quickly turned to snow, with wind blowing it in all directions outside the barn they occupied. Allen was delighted; maybe they’d cancel school the next day. But the Scientist turned it off completely, making all of the movement, noise and bad weather disappear.
“The world must know, I have advertising to do,” the Scientist said. “Go run home. And, um, tell everyone.”
Allen walked home, disappointed that the Scientist didn’t want him around. His mother, of course, was waiting, yelling at him for not cleaning up his room. He shut himself in there, ignoring her, surrounded by piles of trash and old useless things he had collected.

That night Allen snuck out, initiating a plan he had come up with when he was unable to sleep.
He quietly broke into the barn of the Scientist.
The machine was waiting, and he was not in the mood to go to school the next day. The boy tried to remember what the Scientist had pressed for snow.
Through trial and error he got it, though it took some accidental rainstorms and waves of humidity to get it right. Finally a light snow began to fall.
Allen turned the knob to increase the power. The snow soon became a blizzard, and the blizzard quickly became unstoppable! He couldn’t turn the knob back, the machine wouldn’t let him!
The snow came down so thick he couldn’t see anything outside. He finally just left the machine and ran through the blizzard towards home.
The world had become frozen. Several trees had fallen down from the weight of the ice coving their branches, he had to step over many of them and often tripped due to the bad visibility.
Allen finally reached his front door and walked inside. He didn’t even feel like going in his room, he passed out on the couch in the cold of his home.

The next morning Allen was woken up by his mother’s yelling. “Come look Allen! Snowed in the middle of summer! Worst storm I’ve ever seen!”
The boy walked into the kitchen where his mother stood, dumbfounded by the several feet if white snow outside.
“You’re lucky you decided to sleep on the couch! Look at your room!” she said.
Allen ran to his room and gasped in horror at what he saw. A tree had crashed through, destroying everything inside.
“Oh well,” said his mother, “Looks like you have a lot of work to do!”
“What do you mean?” asked Allen, afraid that he knew the answer.
“Rebuilding! I don’t have any other rooms for you. You’re going to have to fix it up. Guess it never mattered go messy it was,” she said, chuckling.
“But, I’m just a kid! That could take all of my time and energy, my whole life…”
Just then, from the sky, the Scientist floated down on his jetpack and landed in the destroyed room. “Hey Allen! The machine must’ve kicked on while I was sleeping! No matter though, I’ll just turn up the heat out here and it will all melt in no time. Well, just seeing if you folks are ok,” he said.
Allen just stared.
The Scientist looked around the room. “Looks like you’ve got a lot of work! Ah well, see you around.”
With that he flew off.

The next night, Allen found himself trudging towards the barn again. This time, he had much different plans in mind.
Before him the machine waited to be destroyed. He pulled out the hammer from his pocket and swung. The thing shook and whirred, as if dying. Good, he thought. Die. He hit it again; it beeped and parts inside crunched.
Suddenly it retaliated. Bolts of electricity flew everywhere and the sky filled with clouds. Allen repeated smashed the thing, and the sky echoed with thunder and lighting.
Finally one of the bolts from the crippled and dilapidated machine struck him. He flew back and fell on his back. The world became a blur.

Allen wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead, but saw above him his mother and the Scientist looking down at him. They seemed to be disappointed in him, though both were half indifferent about it.
“Look at the mess you’ve made! Blood everywhere! And not to mention you hurt me and all your family members, you know, by dying and all. Tsk, tsk,” his mother said, waving a finger and chuckling,
“I know. My barn is a mess! You make a mess of everything Allen. Sheesh!” said the Scientist, smiling.
The boy closed his eyes and sighed. I should’ve just cleaned my room.

Posted by Morgan Dunn at 3:12 PM | TrackBack

Neovox Book Review

Book Review: “The World is Flat: A Brief History of the Twenty-First Century” by Thomas L. Friedman

by Brenden Hendrickson

Say you are walking through the book store looking for something new, exciting, and interesting. As you pass by Thomas L. Friedman’s new book, “The World is Flat: A Brief History of the Twenty-First Century,” you don’t give it a second glance. Who could blame you? The history of the past five years? You have been pretty well aware of what has been going on around you lately, so why would you need this book to recap for you? In truth, the book may be just what you were looking for. Friedman explores the way in which our economy and our everyday lives are being affected by rapidly developing technology. Friedman dives into the recent past to explain how we have reached what he prefers to call “Globalization 3.0,” which began in the year 2000.

Outsourcing and globalization are two recurring themes in the book. Businesses are constantly looking for ways to do things for less money and with more efficiency and in the era of “Globalization 3.0” the rate of outsourcing in various forms is increasing and sending the rate of globalization soaring with it. Friedman explains in what normal and slightly odd ways outsourcing is taking place in business today. It happens when an account sends out someone’s tax information to India to have the figures completed there then sent back for the accountant to take credit for it. It even happens when you pull up to some McDonald’s drive-thrus. You think you’re talking to the guy who is just inside the building but really you’re talking to someone who is potentially a few states away. Friedman goes into great detail to explain why such tasks are sent to be completed somewhere else. The overall answer is simple: greater efficiency at a cheaper rate.

Friedman discovers that the world is actually flat when he takes a trip that he sees as similar to Colombus. He and Colombus were both intent on traveling to India. Colombus found new land instead and discovered that the world was truly round. Friedman made it to India and while there saw the way things were being conducted. The countries that used to be falling behind in the technology race have quickly developed themselves and so “the playing field has been leveled.” Now most have acquired the same advantages and the world has become even more interconnected. Friedman explains that all of this leads the world to be a smaller place and also verifies that the world is flat because of “the playing field” being leveled.

Since globalization involves all of the countries, Friedman goes into depth about how different portions of the world have been affected, are being affected, and will be affected by the “flat world.” This book is a terrific read for anyone who is interested in how things work and what kinds of technology are out there and what we can expect to see. Seeing how the world actually became flat and moved into the era of “Globalization 3.0" and then getting a full description of what is becoming of the world because of that is enough to keep you turning the pages and saying “Wow!” Watching the world quickly grow from the time the Berlin Wall fell to pieces and Windows was created to now when everything has become “Digital, Mobile, Personal, and Virtual.” If you love learning about technology or just like to know what’s going on in the world, this is a must-read.

Posted by Brenden Hendrickson at 12:28 PM | TrackBack

New Tutorial Available

Many of you have asked about uploading files. A new tutorial on the class website shows you how to define a site in Dreamweaver so that you can upload to your web.cortland.edu account.

Let me know if it makes sense.

Posted by Alex Reid at 11:54 AM | TrackBack

neovox article 1 rough draft

link to the article

The first time we had sex was glorious. The weight of God had lifted from my shoulders. My orgasm was: an atom bomb exploding and crashing through my soul and when it was over we lay our sweaty bodies against each other and she clung to me. My eyes rolled back into my head, and in that moment I floated up and up and through her and through my roof and up into the atmosphere. Heavenly opera crescendos erupted from the earth as to applaud my great undertaking. Italian women with beautiful voices filled my ears and I saw sparks. Soon she whispered that she loved me and the sky caved in. I was pulled way down, way back down through heaven, through the clouds back down through into my bed. She told me she loved me and I told her right back but I was actually really lying through my teeth.

I remember looking up at the little sticky glowing stars clinging to my ceiling, still there from when I was eight years old, and smiling. After that sex my whole life made sense. I had a stupid grin on my face for two days. I’d drag my feet around town and hear every note of nature; every summer smell was a gift. I felt drunk and happy and stupid all the time. Most of the trivial shit that used to bother me horribly was suddenly distant and far away. That sex was bleach my brain needed to start over. My brain and conscience were so clean I would have been content with cold blooded murder.

Her first I love you was so weird and awkward and soon she told me it every night. I felt uncomfortable because I didn’t share her feelings. I was constantly waiting for my heart to finally accept her and I wanted to just fall into it like a fever, but I had never been in love in my entire life.

Like a Trojan horse, she opened up after a few weeks. Right at that perfect moment, right when I would have grabbed her hand and kissed it and looked her in her blue eyes and said yes, yes I do, I really love you and I want to be with you for-ever. Right then she told me she cut herself and she was living with bipolar disorder, so I said so what, we can work through this and none of that even matters.

Two days later I was walking her to my car, and she was wearing tight Capri pants, the kind that just expose the knee to ankle area, and right there I saw my red name sliced into her leg. Not cut or sliced or scratched, my name was carved into her leg.

So weeks passed and I thought maybe this would blow over, maybe the Depakote would kick in and we could forget about all this. Then I saw her manic side.

Bipolar disorder is generally two extremes; mania and depression. Mania begins with strong euphoria, increased energy, activity, and restlessness. A cocaine like high; racing thoughts. In mania, one never stops talking. The first time I saw her in mania I asked her if she was doing angel dust.

Soon the mania turned into aggressive and ridiculous behavior. This sweet girl turned into the coldest and meanest person I knew. This cycle quickly concluded with a severe crash of depression. The wilder the mania – the harder the fall. Right when I finally fell in love, I fell back out.

Into my unconscious mind I neatly placed all of the disappointing things. The scars, cutting, fighting, screaming, crying. Names on legs, psychosis mania, shallow hugs, avoided phone calls, lying, cheating.

My relationship became a trap. Months had passed and the only thing left was sex. And after sex I was never high, I was empty. I was awkward and uninterested.

A ten degree night in February was one of the worst nights of my life. My band had just finished playing and we were packing up our shit, when I realized she was missing. I soon overhead the crowd saying that some girl had started crying and ran out of the club in hysterics. My head spun. I dropped the cymbals I was carrying and ran out of there, ran fast through the crowd, fast into the dead winter night and ran through to my van. The windows were fogged and iced up. The door was locked so I started screaming at the top of my frozen lungs. Open the fucking door right now please just open the door oh my god.

I remembered her severe mania that night and I knew she must have crashed and burned. Every door was locked up and she always held my keys while we were on stage. I was afraid of what I would see if I managed to get inside. Exhausting my options, I was left to rip open the trunk door. It didn’t budge so, bracing myself with one foot against a taillight I gritted my teeth and pulled.
Pulled and springs popped.
Coils and soul stretching.
The door sighed with spidery glass cracks.
Ice and glass cracking and popping.
I heard her muffled crying. I saw her crouched into a ball in the passenger seat, crouched and trying to cut her wrists with a shiny piece of metal. It glistened as I exhaled ice and I just stood there in the cold.

I crawled up to her on my hands and knees and said,
“What are you doing? Please, I love you please don’t do this.”
I slowly opened up her clenched fist and put the piece of metal in my pocket. We didn’t talk the whole ride home.
When we got back I drank Vodka straight while she went on the computer. I said “this is what I do when I’m depressed.” And she laughed.
I lived for the moments when she laughed.

I truly wanted to help her but I didn’t understand what was going on in her mind.
Our eighteen month anniversary was closing in.
A week later she was in a deep depression. I picked her up and she was quiet and stared out the window.
When I dropped her off I said I love you and she told me that I didn’t and to stop lying.
So that was the last time we saw each other. I broke up with her the next day and it was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I tried for months to help her. I did hours of research on bipolar treatment and medication. I even interviewed all of my old psychology professors from my community college.

One professor laughed, telling me it’s only gonna get worse.
“This is just the tip of the ice burg.”
I stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind me.
And that day I told Jen that I couldn’t do this anymore,
“It sounds selfish, but it’s too much stress for me.
“I had some of the best times of my life with you.
“I’ll never forget the way you laugh or the first time I saw your eyes.
“You were the first girl I ever loved and,
“I hope you will meet someone, one day, who always has the right thing to say,
“and can always bring out your smile.”

Posted by Patrick Berlinquette at 1:23 AM | TrackBack

September 18, 2005

privacy

It seems that privacy -- actually any expectation of privacy --is at best idealistic. Undoubtedly this is due to the press coverage we encourage of actors, sports figures, politicians and other celebrities. The private lives of these people -- that which has no relevence to their occupations -- is front page news for several columns, the internet and TV News; enough people thrive on this type of journalism so that it is extremely profitable. I don't understand why this is so, I just know that it is so. The point is this; so long as we encourage reporters to comment on celebrities' private lives, there can be no expectation of privacy for anyone abd we have only ourselves to thank for it.

Posted by Joseph Lampiasi at 9:41 PM | TrackBack

Neovox article

Here is my article for Neovox. Comments/feedback are welcome!!!

Hey girls, remember when you were young and watched "Cinderella" and you believed it could happen to you? You believed in that unexplainable, magical love that is pretty much only explained as perfection. And then you grew up, now you laugh a little at your naivety, and move on. Settle. You meet a couple of guys that you're perfectly happy with. But you've settled. You go through a couple guys, one with nosehairs and big clown feet, one who cheats on you for a good year and half, the next who doesn't cheat on you but since you've been programmed to distrust everyone due to boyfriend #2, things don't work out so well with this one either. A few others go down your line, each with their individual flaws, but in reality you're pretty happy. You've settled, but you're happy… you know this Cinderella thing is a myth; it's not even a distant hope that it might happen. It's just a myth. You're a big girl now, and you've learned it's all about unconditional love, or maybe unconditional learning-to-live-with.
But here's the thing. I was you—until this summer, that is. This summer, I realized the whole Cinderella thing can come true. And it did come true, for me. He was basically everything I never even imagined could come true. Not in his perfection, mind you (although he didn't have terrible nosehairs or a problem with keeping food in his mouth while he chewed), but in his perfection for me. He was already going in life where I wanted to be going. You know how when you meet someone and in the back of your mind you automatically stick your first name with his last name and imagine for a moment describing to your grandchildren how you first met. And then, as things get more serious, or even maybe just more possible, whether you realize it or not, you kind of make your goals and ideals fit his. Sometimes you make them be his, but usually after the first couple of those mistakes, you learn to just compromise your goals to go in the same general direction that his go. "Sure, honey, I hate snow and cold, but it is sunny 6 months out of the year in Alaska…" No really, I know you all know what I'm talking about, basically because we all do it.
But with Gavin, he was going where I wanted to be going. His views on children with special needs are the same as mine. His love for them, is that like mine. His ways in dealing with people, his views on life, his genuine outlook—like mine. I liked that. I liked that he was already on the very same road that I see myself traveling, and it didn't take any compromising or left turns to get there.
So now maybe you're thinking through your head of all ere are the people who are exactly you, and that doesn't exactly work either. Because, and I think Jerry Seinfeld described it best when he said (and this is a rough paraphrase), "Why would I want to date myself?? I already hate myself! I wanna date someone I actually like!" Again, to pull us back to seriousness, because adding random humor helps make me feel comfortable when I discuss anything even remotely close to serious, if you date yourself, you have no one to push you to the limits, inspire you to explore your boundaries and many times even surpass them. You have no one to help you jump to life on a different level.
Gavin changed me in many ways. He did for me what they do in movies—he let me free a little bit. He inspired me to be more than I am to try things completely differently and to be free. He challenged me and pushed me and made me laugh in new ways. And gave me new love.
They say write about what you know, but I'm finding as I write this that I am not writing about what I know, but rather what I don't know in hopes that this sort of self exploration may lead me to a greater understanding of love. Or at least I'm hoping that as I write this, I may come to some sort of peace.
None of that has happened, really. Except that I know what I have to find, and that is a magical love. Maybe if Gavin did not live several time zones away, or maybe even if he were from the same country as me, we might have had a long term relationship. But I don't know if it would have worked out. Of course I think it would have. Otherwise, several months later, I would not continue to think of him, dream of him, and long for him. But in all actuality, if all he did was prove to me that Cinderella magic can come true, and help me aspire to find that again, he did his job—as usual—better than expected. I know I'll probably never see him, and while every day I will relive our moments together, our last goodbye, and the tangible spark between us, I can't really decide whether I truly want to get over him and move on, or whether I want to remember him. I'm not quite sure if there is a way to do both.
But what I want for you is that you may know, through a primary source (I hope all my history teachers are happy that I inserted this wise bit of academics), that Cinderella can happen. It does happen. But in the meantime, know who you are and be happy with that. Stop settling with losers who cheat on you or make you turn into their perfect and ideal girlfriend. Stop settling for someone who doesn't adore you, who doesn't make your stomach settle somewhere in the throat area every time you think of him, and someone who doesn't make your face hurt from smiling so much every time you say his name. And most importantly, don't settle for the guys who give dutch ovens.

Posted by Christine Dance at 5:23 PM | TrackBack

September 17, 2005

Neovox Article 1

Here is my first Neovox Article. I have many short stories, poems,and current event/education articles about a variey of topics that I could have worked with for this assignment. However, since I'm graduating in May, I am trying to experiment with genres of writing I am not yet familiar with. So, I decided to do a book review of a novel I just finished reading. I have only done one review, and it wasn't about a book. So, I'm not quite sure if this is the appropriate style of writing. I looked at the reviews on Neovox and got a general idea. Also, my review is not 1,000 words, but I felt if I made it any longer it would no longer function as just a review! Please feel free to give me any suggestions.

“What’s 251 times 864?”

“I thought about this and I said, ‘216,864.’ Because it was a really easy sum because you just multiply 864 X 1,000, which is 864,000. Then you divide it by 4, which is 216,000, and that’s 250 X 864. Then you just add another 864 onto it to get 251 X 864. And that’s 216,864” (66).

I bought Mark Haddon’s novel, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, as a required text for a psychology class, and quite honestly, after reading the back cover of the novel, I thought it would be boring and clichéd. How fun, original, and profound could a book about an Autistic child searching for the killer of a neighborhood dog be?

My opinion changed within the first few pages. The New York Times explains it best when describing this story as “The Sound and the Fury crossed with The Catcher and the Rye and one of Oliver Sack’s real-life stories” (back cover). This novel is amazing.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time tells a fictional story about Christopher Boone--an exceptional fifteen-year-old boy suffering from Asperger’s Syndrome, a type of Autism-- investigating the suspicious death of a neighborhood dog. What makes this quest so intriguing is that Christopher is the narrator. This allows the reader to step into the mind of someone who thinks and feels quite differently than the average person. How differently?

Christopher knows all the countries and the capitals in the world, every prime number up to 7,057, and how to calculate math problems such as 251 times 864 just by quickly thinking. He has a photographic memory and can remember every detail of every picture he sees. Christopher cannot stand to be touched, and he has no understanding of human emotion. If you think this sounds amazing, try reading the novel, where everything is told from this perspective.

More than exploring the mind of an Autistic child, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time embarks on the unavoidable difficulties parents face when raising such an “abnormal” child. Christopher’s parents, like many parents of Autistic children, find their biggest challenge is not having enough patience. Regardless of how hard Christopher’s parents try to be patient, there is always the time when all they can do is scream or throw things: “…if you do not behave I swear I shall knock the living daylights out of you,” Christopher’s dad shouts. (47). As shown in this story, the overwhelming stress only strains the marriage, and in some cases causes separation.

Author Mark Haddon, having worked with Autistic children as a young adult, brings a very realistic ambiance to the story. His story helps remind us that there are Autistic children out there exactly like Christopher, and there are parents who have to deal with the difficulties of raising an Autistic child like Christopher.

Haddon’s ability to artistically step into the mind of an Autistic child is an incredible art in itself. I’ve known Autistic children and have read information about them, but not until I read this book did I truly feel I understood the idea of Autism, specifically Asperger’s Syndrome.

Even more than giving the reader a perspective like no other, Haddon indirectly proposes thoughtful questions for the reader. While reading, I could not help but ponder certain questions: Who defines normality? Who says Autistic children are worse off than “normal” children? Are they? Are the parents wrong for deserting their Autistic child? Can you blame them?

If you are searching for an easy-to-read, yet artistic and profound novel, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time is your choice. I am confident you will be left satisfied and in deep thought.

Posted by Ashley Lauro at 10:52 PM | TrackBack

Copyright to privacy...it's more than you might think

Check out this Wired Article on legal issues surrounding accessing information on computers linked to the Internet. Fundamentally, as I see it, the issue is whether the Internet is a public or private space. If you visit a website, are you in someone's store/house or are you outside, in public space, viewing it. If that analogy holds, and the latter is the case, then anything you see is public (i.e. I can stand on the sidewalk and take a picture of your house without your permission--you don't own the view).

Clearly there are some privacy issues here. If the Internet is a public space then we can't expect the same level of privacy as we have in our home. Maybe reading e-mail is like reading a personal letter on a bus.

On the other hand, this issue is primarily about corporations seeking to profit by keeping information proprietary.

As always, it isn't a black or white issue; it's a matter of balance. What's your thought?

Posted by Alex Reid at 10:46 PM | TrackBack

Technology at its best

I am not sure if any of you saw/read this story on/in the news this weekend, but being the news junkie I am, I found it and thought it would be interesting to share with those of you who have not yet heard about it.

Sometime last week President Bush attended the United Nations Security Council meeting, and, during the meeting, he wrote and passed a note to Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice.

Well, out of the several photographers there, one of Reuters' photographers took several shots from a balcony behind and above Bush, which provided shots of all the papers on the desk. Of course, these photos, even zoomed in as far as possible, weren't able to include the writing on the papers.

However, back in the press room, a Reuter's processor, curious of what the note said and curious to see if he could use his technology to read it, used Photoshop to experiment. By zooming in and burning down the overexposed white parts of the note, this processor was able to read the note!!

The note read: "I think I may need a bathroom break. Is this possible."

The processor then, via e-mail, sent the picture of the note to Reuter clients. Eventually, the picture became public and is now online and the topic of many blogs.

What President Bush wrote is not the meat of the story, it's the technology. Isn't it interesting how our technology continually makes the impossible possible? Not only were we able to get a picture of the papers on the desk from several feet away, but we were able to focus in on a note and use further technology to read it.

I thought you all would find this interesting. Click here to read the complete article and view the note.

Posted by Ashley Lauro at 10:10 PM | TrackBack

September 16, 2005

Handy Little Thingy

Hey all. I just happened to have stumbled on 10 copyright myths and I thought it might come in handy.

Myth number six goes into fan fiction. I keep bringing up fan fiction because it's a tricky issue concerning copyright.

"Now, as it turns out, many, but not all holders of popular copyrights turn a blind eye to "fan fiction" or even subtly encourage it because it helps them. Make no mistake, however, that it is entirely up to them whether to do that."

Mostly Japanese holders will allow this more than European or American holders (i.e. Anne Rice and Sylvester Stallone). This is great because the majority of fan fiction is based off of Japanese animation.

I defend it so much because not only is it fun to read but it's also a great tool for beginning writers. Young people who want to write, but can't think of something original just yet, are able to create their own plots and use their favorite fandoms, characters, and/or settings as a tool to get them started. Think of it as sort of like training wheels.

There are many interactive archives and sites that these writers can post their works and will receive reviews and hopefully: free and easy constructive criticism.

Eventually a fan fiction writer might become bored with his or her fandom, and might wander off to try their own thing, where they can post it in an "original" section of the archive of his or her choice. Such sites include fictionpress.net, an archive built just like fanfiction.net or mediaminer.org but completely dedicated to original works. Again, a writer at one of these types of archives can receive free constructive criticism and reviews.

Some sites even offer other tools, like beta readers (people who will check your work for grammar, spelling errors and other little details) and writer workshops. This usually all comes free since it's fan fiction and it's in no one's legal benefit to make a profit from a technically copied piece of work.

Not only does fan fiction get new writers brain-storming new work, but it sometimes also helps the copyright holders too. For example, like I've mentioned before I'm a huge fan of Anne Rice's work, and thoroughly enjoyed fan fiction based on her series. But when she put her foot down on fan fiction (which she's in the legal right to do) she lost some very loyal fans in the process. I wanted to know what would happen to some of my favorite fan fiction writers after this, and I noticed that the majority of them were migrating to an anime called Gundam Wing. I utterly fell in love with and am a loyal fan of that series now, and have purchased products based on that series (I bet Bandai loves Anne Rice because of that).

Maybe that's why not many people fight Doujinishi that much, because you can't very well go out and buy one without first having some basic knowledge of the series it's based on. And if you do end up buying the Doujinshi first you might become intrigued in it enough to become interested in the series, which results in profit for the copyright holders in some manner. It might be watching the show on TV (ratings), or buying the manga (comic book) or renting or buying one of their videos (anime shows on DVD are very expensive. Even on sale they're still about $30).

So if that's the case it's no wonder why most copyright holders would turn a blind eye.

Posted by Whitney Worden at 7:07 PM | TrackBack

September 15, 2005

Neovox Article

This is the first draft of my neovox article. It's on Martial arts and its perception in the sports world. I feel like it is weak or errant and wwould appreciate even the most brutal and crippling honesty to help me out.

Martial Arts and the World of Sports

I feel as though I should be writing an article in the sports section here. Partly because I am attending a greatly sports-oriented college, but mostly because it’s the section where I feel most qualified. Ironically enough, I don’t do any sports. However, I do take martial arts and I believe that they belong here.

The only time that people would disagree with the idea of martial arts being a sport is when they are thinking of a specific martial art which they believe is different from the generality. In light of this, I feel that an explanation is required for these people. The explanation is that there are, in actuality, several different divisions of the martial arts. Martial arts as a whole are generally separated into traditional martial arts and sport martial arts. There are other classifications, which will be discussed later.

Traditional martial arts, as the name implies, are the classical and ancient arts passed down through the ages. They are often unarmed, but also include melee weapons in later training. Some examples of traditional martial arts include: jujutsu (sometimes seen as jujitsu), tai chi quan (also taiji chuan), pankration, aikido, and karate. Keep in mind that this is a microscopic list and that the amount of traditional martial arts is immeasurable. These are just some popular arts to show the example.

Sport martial arts usually started as traditional martial arts, but the competitions using them became so popular that they became the main focus of the art. Some of these sports martial arts were created strictly as sports. Sport martial arts generally have a true combative effectiveness, but it is usually more of a byproduct of learning to be good at the competition. Some sport martial arts include: boxing, fencing, judo, sumo, and tae kwon do.

Now, some people may be thinking that arts such as karate and other traditional martial arts should be considered sport martial arts because they are seen in competitions. Well, it’s an understandable thought, but not quite right. There are several organizations that hold tournaments and other competitions for traditional martial arts, but these are supplementary to the training of those martial arts, not the primary purpose.

Generally in a discussion of martial arts, a smart-aleck likes to bring up “gun jitsu” or “bomb fu.” While they are stale jokes, they are perfectly legitimate martial arts to think about. Since a martial art is literally an art of war, it is foolish to ignore our modern methods. Modern, or contemporary, martial arts are the ones used in the present day, generally by the national military. Now, these arts being used for war are generally not considered a sport, mainly because they are not being done leisurely like other sports, but the average citizen who trains in contemporary martial arts the same way one trains in traditional martial arts gives the quality of a sport to them.

The other person to come into a conversation is usually one of the ever-growing number of professional fighting fans. Those who have seen shows like Ultimate Fighting Championship or Pride Fighting Championship are generally noted to say things like, “I’ve seen the UFC, what kind of martial art is that?” The short answer is that it isn’t. The long answer is that it is a competition whose rules are under those of mixed martial arts. These fighters have studied several martial arts and compete under a rule set created by the organization. The term “mixed martial arts” is not actually a martial art of any kind, but more of a broad description of the rules that are allowed in the competition. Since mixed martial arts are only competitions, a mixed martial artist would thus be a sport fighter like a boxer.

For a sense of validation, I’ve asked several of my friends what they think a sport is and if they consider martial arts as part of them. The results were three groups of varying rigidity. The narrowest group acknowledged only adversarial games. One person or team plays against another person or team and the winner is the one who beats the other. This includes baseball, football, and basketball. The middle group expanded to include point competitions where a single person goes for the best score or stat such as pole vaulting, javelin throwing, and running. The broadest group added on competitions of style such as gymnastics and ice skating. The interesting thing is that the majority of people asked didn’t consider martial arts as a whole a sport. Several people cited sport martial arts, but did not consider the traditional martial arts as a sport

Most people see martial arts as just a system of fighting or learning flashy moves, but not a sport. Out of curiosity, I checked dictionary.reference.com and searched for the definition of “sport.” The first three definitions were:

1. “Physical activity that is governed by a set of rules or customs and often engaged in competitively.”
2. “An activity involving physical exertion and skill that is governed by a set of rules or customs and often undertaken competitively.”
3. “An active pastime; recreation.”

With these definitions, I believe that all martial arts can be considered a sport in the literal sense. All arts are governed by a set of rules or customs; there are techniques that are in the art and techniques that are not and sparring has predetermined rules for safety of fighters. For definition number two, one can obviously see martial arts being physically exerting and realize that fighting is always competitive. The third definition is the broadest one and certainly applies to any martial art as well.

In the end, it seems to come down to a matter of opinion. People tend to live by their own definition of a word more than the one fund in the dictionary. Some martial arts will always be seen as sports, which is a good start. I hope that the whole world will see all martial arts as a sport and a practical activity with beneficial skills that are learned. When the ideas of superhero warriors, flashy gimmicks, and bad movies from the 1970’s are eliminated from the minds of the populace, true martial arts can be seen and appreciated in every form and not just televised tournaments.

Source: http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=sport

Posted by Kevin Bahler at 6:25 PM | TrackBack

NeoVox Ideas

Some of you have spoken with me about your ideas for your NeoVox article I'd like to hear some more. And then post your article as a separate post before next Wednesday.

Posted by Alex Reid at 2:05 PM | TrackBack

September 14, 2005

Where should we go?

Here's a question for you to consider. In chapter eight, Lessig writes:

We live in a “cut and paste” culture enabled by technology. Anyone building a presentation knows the extraordinary freedom that the cut and paste architecture of the Internet created—in a second you can find just about any image you want; in another second, you can have it planted in your presentation.
But presentations are just a tiny beginning. Using the Internet and its archives, musicians are able to string together mixes of sound never before imagined; filmmakers are able to build movies out of clips on computers around the world. An extraordinary site in Sweden takes images of politicians and blends them with music to create biting political commentary. A site called Camp Chaos has produced some of the most biting criticism of the record industry that there is through the mixing of Flash! and music.

All of these creations are technically illegal. Even if the creators wanted to be “legal,” the cost of complying with the law is impossibly high. Therefore, for the law-abiding sorts, a wealth of creativity is never made. And for that part that is made, if it doesn't follow the clearance rules, it doesn't get released.

To some, these stories suggest a solution: Let's alter the mix of rights so that people are free to build upon our culture. Free to add or mix as they see fit. We could even make this change without necessarily requiring that the “free” use be free as in “free beer.” Instead, the system could simply make it easy for follow-on creators to compensate artists without requiring an army of lawyers to come along: a rule, for example, that says “the royalty owed the copyright owner of an unregistered work for the derivative reuse of his work will be a flat 1 percent of net revenues, to be held in escrow for the copyright owner.” Under this rule, the copyright owner could benefit from some royalty, but he would not have the benefit of a full property right (meaning the right to name his own price) unless he registers the work.

Who could possibly object to this? And what reason would there be for objecting? We're talking about work that is not now being made; which if made, under this plan, would produce new income for artists. What reason would anyone have to oppose it?

How does Lessig answer his rhetorical question? Why haven't we moved in this direction? Should we?

(nb) I've post-dated this entry so that it will stay at the top of our posts for a few days.

Posted by Alex Reid at 12:33 PM | TrackBack

Personal Web Site Assignment

• Description

As we have discussed in class, the personal website may have any content you wish. That is, you can make it about yourself, your friends, and family or you can devote the site to a hobby or favorite band/movie/author or perhaps to some social or political interest. The content is entirely up to you.

What I am interested in seeing is your ability to make use of Dreamweaver and some of the principles of layout/design we have discussed and will be discussing in the next few weeks.

• Requirements

Your website must include a minimum of three pages. It should include text, images, and links, and should use tables to create a visually appealing layout. In addition, your site should include a menu bar that allows for navigation between the three pages.

• Evaluation

You will be evaluated on the following criteria:

o Working links and images
o Use of tables in design
o Readable color combinations
o Aesthetically pleasing design
o Rhetorically effective organization

Posted by Alex Reid at 10:11 AM | TrackBack

September 13, 2005

say what?

A recent article in Wired reports that hearing loss can result from our regular use of earphones such as those we commonly use with mp3-players, like iPods, and cell phones. This goes back to the invention of Walkmans back in the mid-eighties. However, recent devices and prolonged battery life have seen a dramatic increase in the use of earphones.

Why mention this here? Because it points to the connections between technology, culture, and the body. What we see here is a set of cultural practices that arise around the development of particular technologies. Everywhere you go, especially on college campuses, people are wearing earphones. We use them in cars to make phone calls. Even at home or in dorm rooms, people use earphones, perhaps out of habit as much as anything else. As the article reports, people listen to these devices to block out other noises around them.

The physical result of this technocultural practice is hearing loss. But there are other implications as well. What's your opinion of the way these devices are shaping our technologies?

Posted by Alex Reid at 1:44 PM | TrackBack

This is today's society

While reading Lessig's chapter seven I found myself finally getting to the point of all his talk about copyright. For a good majority of this reading I really couldn't care less whether something was copyrighted or not because I didn't really understand what the point of a copyright really proved.

Now I've found that copyrights save the value of someone's work. If I were to publish the great american novel I wouldn't want someone taking my ideas and writing a story almost exactly like mine and getting credit for it. So, in that sense, I agree that copyrights are needed.
But to over-charge someone just to use a sample of your work is ridiculous. The allusion he made towards the Wagner's Ring Cycle documentary with the clip from the Simpsons made me shake my head. THIS is how society today values copy righted material- we put a price on it. Instead of just allowing someone the permission to use it, and maybe charging a small royalty fee for the publication, we are charging $10,000 for four and a half seconds of air time where the clip is being shown in the background so that no one will really be paying attention to it anyway.
It just really infuriated me that companies and businesses that have someone acquired ownership to television shows and the such have the power to charge people obscene amounts of money for their use. The assistant that said, "They don't give a shit. they just want the money" nailed it on the head.
I think that there may not be a need to revise the idea of a copy right, but there needs to be a revised method for charging someone to use copy right material.

Posted by Deena Aglialoro at 1:28 PM | TrackBack

Finally figured it out

Thanks to Ashley I finally can make this link to my webpage so- let the fabulous-ness begin!

Posted by Deena Aglialoro at 1:01 PM | TrackBack

My availablity today

I am dealing with a minor plumbing emergency and waiting for the plumber's arrival. I have cancelled office hours but I expect to be available between 1:15 and 2:30 in G-17. However I may be a little late or need to leave a little early.

However none of that should interfere with your work plans for today. Please e-mail me if you need to.

Posted by Alex Reid at 11:12 AM | TrackBack

September 12, 2005

Oops

I want to recognize that fact that I was also unaware (or forgot) that this particular site is for blogging on what we're doing in class. So before I get any chastising comments on my previous blogs, I do apologize. Over & out. Again, here's the link to my personal blog: http://heam3roar.blogspot.com/

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 8:16 PM | TrackBack

Oops

I want to recognize the fact that I was also unaware (or forgot) that this particular site is for blogging on what we're doing in class. So before I get any chastising comments on my previous blogs, I do apologize. Over & out. Again, here's the link to my personal blog: http://heam3roar.blogspot.com/

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 8:16 PM | TrackBack

Confirming my blogger link...

Soo I'm looking through everyone's posts here...& for some reason any link I've inserted doesnt appear a different color from the rest of my text, unlike everyone else's. This is fine, I just want to confirm that running the mouse over particular text shows it to be a link & is functional. Thanks. Over & out.

P.S. Not that this is going to affect any of you, but the post I wrote in reference to the petition I was doing is sort of obsolete now. You can still sign it & comment on it, but the band has made its way back into the competition. The imbicile running the whole thing has decided to give practically every band another chance. I think I'm going to write about her in my next blog...well, people like her anyway.

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 7:54 PM | TrackBack

My Blogger

I just finally got the measn to post on here, so here's my blogger blog for all the world to see.

http://robo345.blogspot.com/

enjoy

-morgan dunn

Posted by Morgan Dunn at 12:21 AM | TrackBack

How I might feel?

What if I wrote and published a book... how well would I want my rights to be protected?

Okay, let's stretch our imaginations for this example. I write some amazing, original story and get it published. Now, with myself in those shoes, what kind of rights do I want/expect to have for my work? Good question.

The last thing I would want is for someone to duplicate something I created without getting any profit. Although, at this point, it wouldn't be me making the profit. In Lessig's writing, he describes the idea of property in literal terms in the case of piracy. I agree that I consider my creative piece my property and that I would feel that my rights had been violated if someone produced my story without my permission.

On the other end, as a "pirate," I would feel that my creativity would be limited if I have to worry about whether the subject of my story crosses the boundary of another. I also believe that this boundary is loose enough as it is that you aren't too held back

So in the end, I side with the published writer who does not want their work to be pirated. Once you've put enough effort into something to get it published, you should never have to put up with your hard work just being taken away from you. Hard work deserves more than that.

Posted by Brenden Hendrickson at 12:00 AM | TrackBack

September 10, 2005

Lessig

Could it be that the copywright laws are toothless because they haven't kepy pace with electronic advancements or is it that they are un necessary because of the advancements? After all, all one need do to check for originality is google a phrase. It will show up quickly. Where is the writer's intergrity? Can we rely at all on that or am I too idealistic?

Posted by Joseph Lampiasi at 10:26 PM | TrackBack

September 8, 2005

Help me bring justice to some Rochester musicians

So...I do promotions for a number of bands from the Rochester area. I've created a petition in relation to Rochester's Most Popular Band contest that is nearing the finals. In a nutshell: the contest was seriously unorganized and unprofessional, and the one band "Contajus" whom I'm affiliated with was severely wronged. I made this petition that I'll be sending to management of the particular venue hosting the contest. I'm hoping that with this petition I can help them see the error of their ways. If that fails, I plan to call my contacts at the local entertainment papers to make this more public...hopefully it wont have to come down to that. By clicking THIS you'll get more background on the issue and hopefully do me the favor of adding your name to the petition by scrolling down after reading my position. Every name helps, so feel free to pass the link on. Thank you for supporting the REAL music scene in Rochester.

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 7:46 PM | TrackBack

Nicole's first post here

Here's the link to my blogger ...better late than never!

Posted by Nicole Hushla at 7:35 PM | TrackBack

..that ain't Elvis playing piano

Being in a band and actually kind of making was one of the best and worst experiences of my entire life. I sold my soul to rock and roll. I was a pseudo rockstar and it was the most insane two years of my life.

To be accurate we werent rock at all. We were considered a mix of thrash metal and new school hardcore (a scene that spawned in the Lower East Side of New York in the late 70's early 80's). But we were loud and obnoxious and people loved us for it. We would act cocky get drunk and wild and no one questioned us.

For 24 months I dedicated entire nights and days to this dream. We were gonna cash in and make it big time. Take the record companies by their big fat heads and take over hard rock in the new millenium. I wanted to get drunk and full of smoke and pulverize our music into the brain of every fan of every genre of every local scene.

My band was a marriage to four guys. It was impossible. The first few months were simple yet exciting. Small shows in dimly lit bars. We'd pound Jager before our set and stumble on stage and usually fight afterwards. We did because we could. We were still nothing. No one knew my lyrics. No one sang along. The first few shows, old bikers and coke fiends watched us with their arms crossed. We'd play to almost empty bars constantly. We'd drive two hours to a small club, unload all our shit and there would be three people sitting at the bar drinking Jack. It was dreadful but that didn't stop us.

Months went by and bars turned into respectable Long Island venues. Soon 5 people turned into 50 and 50 into 100. While our name on LI slowly grew, so did the turmoil and frustration within the band. We all wanted to go in different directions musically. The bassist and I were interested in moving towards a more rock sound while everyone else wanted everything heavier and harder. We fought constantly. Simple disagreements turned into bitter arguments that turned into bloody violence.

One night at band practice I punched my guitarist in the face with a shure SM58. A shure SM58 is the heaviest and most respectable microphone in the world. You can run over an SM58 with a mack truck and fill it with gasoline and light it on fire and still sing with it later that night. This thing was indestructible and I punched my guitarist in the face with it. He picked me up and threw me into the drum set. I hurled him into the thousands of dollars worth of guitar cabs and heads.

Later, taping up my bloody hand, we laughed alot.

Months later and months ago, we played a near sold out set at CBGB's on Bowery.

Weeks later we played a sold out set at one of the biggest clubs on Long Island. One thousand sweating and screaming fans packed like sardines. As I sang, girls ran their hands up my legs to try and unzip my pants. We had a basement room all for us, a sign with our band name flew like a flag over the entrance. Catering, booze, girls. I was nineteen years old.

Over time the teenage angst within us ripped us apart. We had little groups and little alliances. We'd disrespect each other face to face. It was all routine.

When we broke up I was heartbroken, but weeks later I got accepted to Cortland.

Rock and roll is a lifestyle reserved to the totally insane and utterly destructive. But it was not a lifestyle I could nor wanted to keep up with. The lyric writing aspect of rock coupled with guidance by some community college professors ignited my passion for writing which compelled me to delve into professional writing. Playing music was a phase, and was meant to be that way. It opened my mind to completely new things.

Education is a sigh of relief.

Posted by Patrick Berlinquette at 5:28 PM | TrackBack

What are we doing here?

OK, let's get on task folks. To put it bluntly, the task of this blog is for you to develop the ability to speak and write intelligently about new media and internet culture. By writing here (and on your own blogs) you will, ideally, develop an online identity that you will be able to maintain into the future. Why would you want to do that? Why? Because the internet is a site of power, influence, community, professional growth and opportunity, and, oh yeah, money. That's why.

Thinking about professional writing for a moment (given that we are in a professional writing course), the ability to work and community online and an understanding of how new media functions (both in technical and cultural terms) is significantly marketable. That's why we not only have this course but have also infused technology throughout our curriculum. My hope is that PWR majors and minors, when they leave here, will enter professions feeling totally confident about meeting the technological demands placed on them.

Beyond these professional issues, the new media and the internet have become considerable cultural forces, but the inertia of institutionalized education has meant that we still struggle to educate students about the cultural, social, political, and ethical issues surrounding these technologies. This course is an attempt to catch you up somewhat.

Posted by Alex Reid at 1:30 PM | TrackBack

September 7, 2005

authority

here the link to my blog
http://pickingupchange.blogspot.com/

this is my second post on this blog :)

Everywhere I go-
it seems that an officer is one step behind me.
Lurking in the shadows, badge reflecting the moon, gun drawn. I cant go anywhere remotely exciting without questioning, interrogation or being approached. The theme of this year is; authority. I've been in trouble with the law more than once for pretty petty and trivial circumstances. A night of fun has more than once turned into a horrible experience.

When you're handcuffed to a gymclass-lockerroom bench with convicts and felons behind the bars with you, the only thing you can do is reflect on what you did and try to learn from the mistakes that were done hours ago. Sometimes I'd ask to use the bathroom and the guards would walk right past me. Once in a while my cellmate would start banging his had against the bars and then they'd have to go and open the cell.

This guy, my cellmate, Joe, was arrested for failure to comply or resisting arrest, I forget. But Joe's face was swollen shut from mace and night sticks. Joe said he was taking everyone to court and he went on and on and on and the guards told Joe to shut the fuck up.

I go to a party, and like Moses the cop splits the sea of college kids who all look the same. The officer, he's like Moses and points to me and my tattoos and tells me I'm an idiot and for some identification. This is where I get that sinking feeling and authority wins again.

You get ACOD's, appearance tickets, warrants, violations, probation, criminal mischief, misdemeanors and fines and you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

I drag my feet to court, in payless shoes that look expensive. Talking to my sweating lawyer, he tells me everything is cool and I'll most likely get off the hook but maybe not. I just have to stay out of trouble for awhile, let this blow over, he says. I nod and say yea, yea, yea, yea, but in my head I know I'm getting the shaft - it's like talking to an auto mechanic.

Posted by Patrick Berlinquette at 4:10 PM | TrackBack

Steve Lennon Blog URL

Posted by Steven Lennon at 11:29 AM | TrackBack

NeoVox Assignment

A printable version of the NeoVox Assignment can be found on the Course Documents page.

Posted by Alex Reid at 10:21 AM | TrackBack

NeoVox Assignment

Your first writing assignment for NeoVox is due in two weeks. To begin the assignment you should go and check out the website. You will see that there are several content-specific sections.

1. Stadium: sports and sports culture.
2. Wire: current events.
3. Dorm: college life and culture
4. Libido: sex and relationships
5. Revue: reviews of books, music, film, tv, video games, etc.
6. Studio: creative writing
7. Vox: a special monthly theme section

The themes for this semester are:

September: The war on/in/from/about terror
October: Mother Nature as Medea
November: Conspicuous Consumption
December: What’s mind is mine

The war on/in/from/about terror: four years on from September 11, 2001. A marking of 9/11 and its impact on U.S. and international politics. Terrorism in daily life. How has the Bali bombing affected Australia. The costs of the war on domestic and international life.

Mother Nature as Medea: The Tsunami, earthquakes, hurricanes, blizzards, floods. What is the impact of natural disasters on people and the environment? Where does the aid money go? Do rich countries do enough? Did the tsunami really bring people together? Did the west only care because rich westerners were involved? Does anyone remember other major natural disasters in recent history?

(NOTE: we came up with this theme several months ago, far before Katrina. Obviously there are a whole new set of questions to ask now)

Conspicuous Consumption: In the month leading up to the annual buying orgy, another opportunity to reflect on materialism, consumerism, and the quest for “more” and “better.”

What’s mind is mine: The future of intellectual property. Copyleft, copyright, Creative Commons, file sharing, plagiarism. Is plagiarism an international problem? It’s endemic in American universities and
public life. Who owns an idea? What is an idea worth? What is parody?

(NOTE: December's theme is very closely related to topics we will discuss in class--something to keep in mind.)

Posted by Alex Reid at 9:16 AM | TrackBack

September 6, 2005

Maybe doujinshi is where we need to be

It seems today that copywritten material has become far too strict. In order to be creative you can't be looking over what you have done and wondering if you might get in trouble for it.

One's creative potential is shriviling underneath copywritten material. I believe as long as you are not making an exact replica of someone else's work you should be able to create as you please. In Japan, the idea of doujinshi seems to be the kind of creativity that we are not allowed to think twice about doing. I believe doujinshi should be the boundary we hit when it comes to how far we can go when it comes to violating copywritten material. What good is creativity if you have to keep looking over your shoulder to make sure you aren't breaking any laws.

Posted by Brenden Hendrickson at 9:27 PM | TrackBack

Somebody Shoot Me

Here's the link to my blog:

http://www.someshootme.blogspot.com/

enjoy!

Posted by Aaron Fallon at 7:47 PM | TrackBack

My Blog

Click to view Ashley's log.

Posted by Ashley Lauro at 6:42 PM | TrackBack

Find Lessig's book

You can google Free Culture and Lessig, and it will appear.

Or you can go to this site.

Posted by Alex Reid at 2:26 PM | TrackBack

Free culture and proprietary culture

What is your initial opinion regarding copyright? I'm guessing that most of us do not support the idea of people stealing from others. Perhaps you have in mind that you will be a writer or an artist of some kind in the future, and you will want to be paid for your work. On the other hand, when copyright limits our ability to innovate, to create, then it stands in the way of public interest.

Lessig is in search of some middle ground. He has no interest in abolishing copyright. However, as he notes in this week's reading, we have recently seen the expansion of proprietary culture. We used to have far more freedom to develop and share culture on our own. In a sense technology like the Internet has made it possible for the average person to create and distribute culture on nearly the same scale as major corporations. This new power has raised concerns among corporations as they desire to protect their market share.

So where do you come into this debate? What do you think is in our society's best interest?

Posted by Alex Reid at 10:10 AM | TrackBack

September 2, 2005

MY blog

Here's a link for my blog.
click this

Posted by Paul Murray at 5:40 PM | TrackBack

Brenden's Blog (That has an odd ring to it)

I guess this post is mainly for anyone interested in viewing my alternate blog for the class. You can find my motivational words at Brenden's Blog . That's all for now, but stay tuned for more.

Posted by Brenden Hendrickson at 11:05 AM | TrackBack

Ok then here's my blog, er, lj actually, but I don't think it really matters

Hmm, the original lj/blog that I have contains content that is just not suitable for class. So I made another one.

lj/blog

Posted by Whitney Worden at 10:22 AM | TrackBack

my blog

http://christinekanella.blogspot.com/

So we had to send a link to our blog and I hope I've done it correctly but we'll see. :)

Posted by Christine Dance at 9:13 AM | TrackBack

September 1, 2005

Heather's "Blog"

I hate the word "blog".

Maybe it's because I don't really like words that begin with "b". I don't like the word "bottle" either. And I recently was stung twice by bees in one week (after not being stung in 7 years). Yet another "b" word to add to the hate list.

So, in lieu of the word "blog" I will most likely be calling mine my "journal". Here's the link: Click.

Posted by Heather Cobb at 9:15 PM | TrackBack

Where are the blog links going?

Are the blog links going here? Is there where we are supposed to be posting them? Or somewhere else?

Also, we're supposed to be posting in our blogs three times a week and posting three times a week, where? Here?

I thought I understood this and class but once I got back to my room and pulled up this site I realized that I missed where stuff is supposed to go.

Do comments/replies count as part of the three post requirements?

Thanks.

Posted by Whitney Worden at 8:20 PM | TrackBack

second entry

The question is how do blogs change perspectives. There is an immediacy and an individuality that an "eyewitness" radio or TV does not have. For those media we need to wait till six o'clock: the blog, as long as the internet is working, is immediate. Of course there's the possibility that the person posting doesn't have the whole picture; however, if the reader keeps that in mind I suppose that would temper the situation. I would suggest that any report from a hurricane site would be similar. On the other hand if you were to read blogs from Iraq, the note from a headquarters company might reflect a different outlook than one from a fire team in Falusia. So while we as bloggers are privy to a variety of immediate information, we must be discerning readers.

Posted by Joseph Lampiasi at 2:28 PM | TrackBack

Completing this Week's Tutorials

In order to complete this week's tutorials you need to download files from the author's website (see pg 25 in the Dreamweaver text for directions).

In order to do this you will need to unzip or unstuff the files (depending on whether you are on a PC or a Mac). However, you will not be able to do this on a computer in a lab (they are too woried about people installing software). As such, you may need to download the files at home, unzip them and then bring them to the lab to work on them.

Alternately you can come to class on Tuesday and get the files from me.

Posted by Alex Reid at 2:28 PM | TrackBack

Link to Log into Movable Type

Though you can comment on posts here, in order to create a new post, you must log into our Movable Type site (as we did in class on Wednesday). The address is http://neovox.cortland.edu/mt/mt.cgi.

Posted by Alex Reid at 9:55 AM | TrackBack

the latest news

September 30, 2005

Technology can change everything, except for the opinions of Austrian Republicans

September 29, 2005

NOTE: Change in Reading Schedule

mighty mice

September 28, 2005

My finished website

Halo on your phone?!?

September 27, 2005

no wallets?

No More Wallets

more on dery

September 26, 2005

Mrmories of the future handout

Class opinion

Terminal Rhetoric: Memories of the Future

Acceptable because of Katrina

Lessig hurts my eyes

neovox article 1 revision (need feedback)

September 25, 2005

internet: voice of the people?

A model for online participation

September 22, 2005

Last old school blog I swear...

Chapter 1...

Chapter 1...

Fitzgerald Hall

I wish I could draw...

I beg to differ Mansfield...

Bare with me

September 21, 2005

Steve Lennon Neovox Article #1

Child Warriors

Out of the Old into the New

neovox short story

Copyright Infringement?

copyright and cyberspatial ethics

September 20, 2005

Here's my first Neovox article...

Psst, pass the handcuffs.

NeoVox Article

September 19, 2005

Neovox Article- looking for feedback

Neovox Article Of Mine

Neovox Book Review

New Tutorial Available

neovox article 1 rough draft

September 18, 2005

privacy

Neovox article

September 17, 2005

Neovox Article 1

Copyright to privacy...it's more than you might think

Technology at its best

September 16, 2005

Handy Little Thingy

September 15, 2005

Neovox Article

NeoVox Ideas

September 14, 2005

Where should we go?

Personal Web Site Assignment

September 13, 2005

say what?

This is today's society

Finally figured it out

My availablity today

September 12, 2005

Oops

Oops

Confirming my blogger link...

My Blogger

How I might feel?

September 10, 2005

Lessig

September 8, 2005

Help me bring justice to some Rochester musicians

Nicole's first post here

..that ain't Elvis playing piano