In my internet forays I came across a website with pictures from 1910 depicting how they believed life would be in the year 2000.

In this picture, students in school are learning from textbooks being dropped into a machine. . . Not sure how the artist thought it would be that advanced and still dumb enough that the machinery would require a hand-powered crank.

Here an architect is constructing a building remotely. The strange part is his control panel appears to only have twelve buttons at most. That certainly must be difficult to imagine.

This one dumbfounds me. They aren't hair styling machines, they're shaving machines. How anyone would get close to that is beyond me. And the decision to put them behind the face seems like an unnecessary handicap.

Considering how much the French love their scooters, I'd say this is the most spot on depiction of the set. However the riot shields are an interesting choice. Seems like it would make it hard to detect things coming at you from a front angle.

Not sure what's happening here, notice it's uncommon to think of an invention to replace things recently invented, I.E. no concept for speakers in 1910 because the Victrola already made this drawing look high tech.

Took me a second to figure this out, but the man from Curious George on the left and his family are shocked by seeing a horse. I wouldn't say he nailed it but it's more accurate than the classroom.

Fireplace replaced by divine light. Where can I get one of these?

I love that in the future we all have snazzy flying machines. . . Oh wait.

Seriously, still waiting on these things. What the hell future? You are disappointing.

"Wait! I have to write you a ticket but I can't stop flapping!"

Is it me or are they about to collide? It doesn't look like those gliders can hover.

It's an interesting picture of what the world would be like, that's for sure. Very 1910 and very French, too. It would be a lot of fun to write a story set in a world like this, and maybe write in some really extreme tech to make the absurd stuff possible.

Concerning protests in Bahrain and the aftermath of the Tunisian uprising

I can't be sure what to think of the string of protest marches that have been happening in many countries throughout the Arab world after the toppling of the Tunisian government. It seems as though the political figures being opposed are rather dictatorial, and power-hungry. But I have no idea what is going on for the most part. It is tactless to write about the fact that I don't know things but I am distrustful of the news that is shown to me, and I yearn to see things first-hand.

It is inevitable that all human thought possesses some bias so, news that first has to leave these countries in Arabic for the most part, and then filtered through the internet or through our news networks seems like it would be possessed of twice as much bias and I wonder how warped the picture we are seeing is. With the violent military reaction to protests in Bahrain seemingly the big focus today, which like Egypt is backed by the American government, I sincerely wonder how I can get an accurate account of what is happening. I'm not even sure whether, as an American, I should be anxious about the sudden shifts in power or relieved.

As a human being my heart goes out to all those involved in the struggle for peaceful political reform, but my lack of understanding has been made more evident to me and I'm anxious because of this.

 

This picture of a protester in Bahrain poses a good question. What are the United Nations doing to help in this conflict? And who are they helping? My outsider perspective makes it difficult for me to understand but I wish I knew where to look to learn more.

A Very Underrated Film

The film Tokyo Godfathers written and directed primarily by Satoshi Kon (Also known for directing the highly acclaimed animated movie Paprika) is one of my favorite animated films of all time and one hell of a great story.

Set in Tokyo Japan it follows the story of three homeless people during the Christmas holidays: a teenage runaway, a transvestite, and a middle-aged bum. within the first few minutes of the film they discover a baby that has been abandoned in a trash heap with a mysterious key. Touched by this cold act of abandonment Hannah vows to return the baby to its mother. From this simple plot is woven a great story full of surprises.

While a baby-finding, three-way character foil may seem an awful lot like the first Ice Age I'd like to assure you that Satoshi Kon's written a significantly more powerful story full of symbolism, dynamic characters, great drama, and magnificent subtlety. I'm torn between a desire to praise individual elements of the film and to not spoil the surprises of the story. Each of the three major characters seems to be touched fatefully by their chance discover as the trail of the infants parents leads them each to some family of their own. The themes of family and abandonment are prevalent in the tale set in the beautiful scenes of the city in winter.

With Miyuki, the youngest girl, we see a sarcastic, irreverent teenager who is seemingly afraid to return home. Hannah, the transvestite, behaves like the baby's mother through the story. Gin, apparently modeled after a samurai, is gruff and tells a story of noble suffering. Each character's story has a number of twists, including the foundling infant. As the story of its parents unfolds a final surprise makes the climax of the movie a powerful scene.

Overall Tokyo Godfathers is a prime example of fantastic writing because of the way the characters are artfully wielded through the story.

Why Lizardman is my Favorite Soul Calibur Character

Do you want to know why Lizardman is my Favorite Soulcalibur Character? Because he never says anything pretentious, ostentatious, boastful, tactless, ignorant, or cocky. That and the fact that one of the weapons you can unlock is a bone with meat on it. Compared to the rest of the Soulcalibur characters, this guy is practically about as smart as they come.

The Lizardman

I think I really noticed it for the first time a couple weeks ago. It was just after sunset, the sky was still gray and had been all day. I was sitting in my living room with three friends, my TV, and a couple of smoke clouds and we were playing Soulcalibur III for the PS2. Soul Calibur is my absolute favorite fighting game title for any system. Normally I don't play Lizardman at all. But we were playing, my friends and I. And up in front of me was a big screen full of people looking at me. I'm browsing through all the characters I can pick, trying to choose something I can play well. And down there in the bottom right corner of the selection screen is the little green head of Lizardman. He uses an axe and a shield, kind of funny since he's supposed to be a monster. All the other monstrous characters like Astaroth and Nightmare use great heavy slow, crushing weapons. Things that would do a huge amount of damage and would probably smush you or I right away. But Lizardman, not so much, rather than a great wild blade, his axe is clenched tight in his hand. It is clutched there almost fervently unlike Ivy and Tira who are loose with their weapons (and tight with their clothing (some metaphor there I wonder?)). And he bears a small round shield on his right arm. The only other characters in the game who use shields are two girls, blonde, attractive and young: Sophitia and Cassandra. It's an odd, and seldom chosen group those three: the shield-users of Soul Calibur. It is two third's babe, and one thirds reptile, a woman who is snake from the waist down.

I pick Lizardman. The fight begins. My opponent is using a two-handed sword he is hot off consecutive shut-outs against the other two people present. He's feeling pretty confident. His character is Strife, the unlockable story-mode character from Soulcalibur III's built in MMO style game. Strife has probably the most absurd Prince Charming haircut I've ever seen in my life. It's so bad that it's nomination as the number one worst video game haircut by Game Informer magazine is listed on the main Wikipedia page for Soulcalibur.

Strife Astlar Grandall from Soulcalibur III is ranked first on Game Informer Magazine’s list of The Top Ten Worst Hairstyles with the basis of: "A unaimous shoo-in for the most dubious position on our list, Stife isn't a happy looking lad. For good reason - appointed ruler of his father's empire at age 10, Strife apparently never thought to update his pageboy hairstyle. Perhaps he was too busy slaughtering family members and losing his grip on reality. The hair alone is reason enough for the permanent scowl."

 I have included a picture of him alongside someone you might know for emphasis:

Okay, so maybe his winning streaks have me fired up a bit, maybe I kind of hate Strife for being such a tool because for some reason I really wanted to kick this guys ass. Then the face-off screen comes up and I'm reminded that I've picked Lizardman, who is not exactly my forte. It's the screen just before the battle and this is the pivotal moment of the story. Because of this I'm showing it to you here with a couple characters demonstrating the mimicry powers of Soulcalibur's character creation section. . . Striking resemblance. 

My friend has discovered that pressing the Square or X buttons at this point causes your character to yell a random taunt, moving his mouth but keeping the rest of his body frozen the excitable battle theme music also pauses here momentarily while the game loads. And this is why I love Lizardman. Every other character in the game will yell some absurd catchphrasey snippet. "Scream!" being one of the memorable ones. Does screaming the word "Scream" constitute metascreaming? Other uninspired cries include "Fear my wrath!" and "The likes of you could never stop me!" Strife cries something similar out immediately. My friend turns to me and asks "What does Lizardman say?" I press the button and the TV emits a gravelly growl that lasts barely a second and stops abruptly. We all pause for a second as Lizardman stares at scaly us full of the earnesty of what he has just said. And we laugh. We all laugh because the sound is so silly and the realization that Lizardman doesn't talk. He is a beast.

The battle commences and I'm out of the shoot hard, I hit the ground running and withing minutes I have three straight wins agains Strife. I'm feeling good about myself. The answer to the question "What does Lizardman say?" is that he doesn't say anything. And because he is the only character on Soulcalibur who doesn't, he is the one that retains the most dignity. He doesn't need to talk, talk is cheap, Lizardman is a manlizard of action; action is all he needs. Strife weilds his huge sword and Lizardman his little axe and shield and trounces the knight thoroughly. Of course it's me at the controls. But Lizardman channels my desires for righteous ass-whooping silently and obediently. He does not boast when he wins, he does not complain when he looses. He gives no ground and conveys emotion with movement only in the cutscenes. He is stoic and mute and that is why I love him

Other characters in the game are not as impressed by the fact that he's mute. If Killik defeats him at the end of the round he will often say "Could you please [awkward pause] speak more. . . normally?" 

But I know him better. He has more charisma than any of the characters with prescribed battle cries because I am free to invent the inner monologue of his lizard mind. He never says anything that makes him look vapid or cliche. He doesn't repeat himself mindlessly. If Lizardman came downstairs and found the living room from "A Child's Christmas in Wales" full of dissolving snowballs and smoke and firefighters he would probably say "Would you like something to read?" 

Because he says the right thing always.

China Town

Yesterday I took a trip down to China Town with my friend Justin. He's enrolled in an Asian studies class here at Penn State Abington. His teacher asked the class to take pictures of themselves in Philadelphia's China Town district during the Chinese New Year. China Town is a lively place, but I can't imagine what it feels like to someone from China. The gift shops, the restaurants, quaintly foreign for us but to Justin, who is from Taiwan what is it like?

As we sit at the table of Banana Leaf, a Malaysian place next to the Trocadero theater a young man with an attractive date is watching us eat. "Hey buddy, what is that?" He interrupts a cutesy chopstick sword fight with the blonde woman and points the utensil coolly at our appetizer. My mouth is full of peanut-butter squid so I let Justin answer. "Squid and watercress." He says calmly. It takes me several minutes to finish the act of masticating the boiled squid flesh which has been texturized to something between gummy bear and bouncy ball. "Is it any good?" I avert my eyes, carefully extracting a piece of the watercress. It hangs limply from my chopsticks, dark green like spinach. "Yeah," says Justin. His answer is either quite sincere or he lying well. I avoid the squid for the rest of the meal. The stranger questions us again when our main dishes arrive. Again the same two questions seem to keep his eyes straying back to our plates instead of looking at the girl he must have hoped to impress with this sophisticated choice for lunch, "What is it?" and "Is it good?" Once more I'm silent, this time pulling tails off of tasty, but slightly over-cooked shrimp. Justin doesn't seem phased by the questioning. The curious man dons his jacket and baseball cap and him and his date disappear out the front door into the condensing crowd outside the Troc in the fine lite rain that feels like the spritzers in the produce isle at the grocery store only much colder. Outside everything is stratus gray and wet and a far cry from the Indo-Pacific Islands. Justin walks in the direction of the hair salon he wants to visit. We're having a discussion about investing and business. He's very interested.

At the hair salon I'm the only white person. They must not get many of us either because conversation stopped when Justin and I enter together. The place is lively and charismatic but my presence seems almost chilling to the people who resume talking uneasily as I move to take a seat while Justin gets what he came here for. I'm full of egg noodles and hot shrimp broth and it takes him a long time to get his hair cut. I'm nodding off until one of the stylists trips over my outstretched foot. We both apologize rapidly and from then on my feet stay hidden under my chair. I keep making eye contact with a woman who is sitting stone-still, draped with a hair-deflecting orange poncho, in a chair with her back to me. She blinks at the mirror. It is dark by the time we leave.

The thing that fascinates me about China Town are the gift shops. They sell paper lanterns, ninja swords, snacks, tea sets, driftwood furniture, and jade Buddhas. Are there Chinese people who buy this sort of thing? None of the students I know here at Abington do. Is it just to make money from gawking Westerners? Or are there Chinese people who wear the red silk clothes around like there are Americans out in Texas that get married in cowboy hats? Where does the culture end and the cliche begin?

Meanwhile in Canada. . .

In Canada, as of right now, you're not allowed to view more than 25 GB worth of material on the internet. Not unless you're willing to pay an additional $2 per gigabyte.

You might not know it but ISPs in the United States have these usage caps also. Comcast, however has set the limit to a staggering ten times that of Canada's preset limit

"As of October 1, 2008, data usage above 250 Gigabytes ("GB") per month per Comcast High-Speed Internet residential customer account is considered excessive." -http://customer.comcast.com

So what's the big deal? Could American companies potentially levy the same charges? I certainly hope not. $2 per gigabyte is an outrageous fee. This picture puts it into a good perspective:

The website that is listed at the bottom of this picture is receiving so much traffic that when I attempted to visit it, I was redirected to an alternative address. The site explains that Stopthemeter.ca had anticipated heavy traffic. They are hosting a petition which can be signed in protest to the strict regulations on Canadian internet usage.

With the simultaneous occurrences underway in Egypt this might not receive much notice. But limiting a countries ability to use the greatest information tool available seems like it can only do harm to all parties involved.

Amanda Schaffer

It's March 2010. I'm standing before the prehistoric ruins of Stone Henge. It has been a long, cold, trip. Julian Richards, a well known archaeologist and author is explaining things about the stones. We've been walking for hours all over the cold windy plains of Salisbury England. My shoes are smattered with sheep droppings and I am not dressed warmly enough to be outside for so long. By my side, wrapped in a vibrant, green, plaid, English Heritage blanket she purchased at the gift shop, is Amanda Schaffer.

Amanda is the type of person you could say "Hey, let's go to England for Spring Break!" and she would do it. Her purple hair whipped in the wind as we examined the rocks which emitted an aura of proud indifference to our presence. The suffering ruin ignored us. There had been a long flight, several clubs, and a good deal of alcohol and drama between the day we packed out bags and set out to cross the pond and become scholars of the neolithic for a week.

As the rest of the students huddled with us around the Penn State Abington banner for the umpteenth time I reflected on everything that had occurred so far. Amanda sticks out a lot, she will always get noticed. Now this is a truly neutral state of being, but a highly catalyzed one. Good things and terrible things often happen to people who naturally receive a lot of attention, Amanda is no exception. There were no shortage of men and women who were very interested in her everywhere we went. Women in a feminist rally took a liking to her and marked the locations of the best gay clubs in London the first morning we were there. She was very happy about this. At the first of these clubs Amanda had been talking to a tall, and stunning blonde girl who was only there because her friend had dragged her for all of about ten minutes before they were making out. Her punk rock style and her mow hawk and her facial piercings were seemingly irresistible to other members of her sex, but it was enough to make our teachers more than wary. Perhaps it was not an unfounded concern, Amanda getting into spots of trouble was certainly not unheard of, but it always seemed unjust. Over dinner one night another student on the trip had lashed out viciously towards Amanda seemingly out of nowhere. The silence that followed seemed to morph the whole social dynamic of our group, heat and pressure melted our network like stones in the earth's mantle. And we all knew that when Amanda took off, facing forward, walking quickly, totally silent, that everything would take a different shape by the time it cooled. The girl who had made the remark went after her. I hoped things would work themselves out. But when she came back empty-handed, I knew trouble was brewing on the horizon like thick clouds over London. It took us a while to find her. She was upset but not as much as I had been, worrying that she was lost as we paced the streets of Salisbury by night. When the teachers got wind of things it really went downhill. And next morning the discussion of the nights events before breakfast was rather uncomfortable for all parties involved. I felt bad, I knew Amanda hadn't done anything to deserve this, but I couldn't stop other people from suspecting that she had. I became very emotional myself, I was defensive of her.

But the thing I liked most about her was that Amanda would absolutely always be friends with people who were good to her. She didn't care what you looked like, or what you were into. She was above such judgement. To me this made her one of the absolute best people in the universe. Someone you could be completely open with. When I first came to this school I had practically no friends. Amanda was one of the first people I talked to and we hit it off immediately. It felt like we were already friends as soon as we started talking. There are so many stories I could share about amazing times I had with Amanda but I chose the one I did because I think it reveals something about her character. Amanda is my best friend, but she is her own person too. And she is the type of person that things -happen- to.