I had a hard time remembering books to put into my Library Thing, and will have to scour my shelf at home for ISBNs to really capture how eclectic my tastes are. There are some things that should be noted, however, chief among them being that I have not read all of the books I own. Perhaps I meant to at some point, but I probably got distracted by another book or some other form of entertainment or edification.
Also, I don't own 3 AM. I still put it on my Library Thing.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Charlotte-Mecklenburg 23 Things: Thing #10 (3 AM #1: The Reluctant)
(Typed on The Internet Typewriter, part of Thing #10)
There was a shrub that served as a frame, like a cruder, natural version of the cardboard box turned television crafted by a child. She didn't know she was being watched. She merely stood there, leaning against the lamp post to catch her breath as she hugged her torso with her thin arms. Her skin was flushed from running. I knew that to reach out and touch the glowing flesh would be like pressing these cold fingers to a kettle about to whistle. The air pushed from her chest with each laborious exhalation would surely be like the steam rising from that same kettle's spout. Her eyes were wide with frantic fear, and for good reason. It wasn't hard to guess why she had been running so hard. It wasn't hard to guess why she was here.
Sympathy was hardly an option; there were too many things about her to envy, such as the rise and fall of her chest and the vitality that glowed in her hair and skin even in the unflattering light of the lamp above her. Whatever was chasing her, she must have deserved for some reason or another. She wouldn't be here if that wasn't the case.
They weren't far behind. They could have overtaken her in an instant had they wanted to, but they enjoyed a good game. People - prey like her were as much entertainment as they were nourishment. The chase would not end until her potential for amusement had dried up. It was true of the young and the old, but the old were more subtle. The young did it this way, running down their prey in packs in order to appear more threatening while in actuality only one would be feasting tonight, and he wasn't even here yet.
The sound of their approach was muffled by the roar of the bellows her lungs had become, but they could not hide themselves for too much longer. Her ability to sense danger so acutely was another reason to envy her. Even in her exhaustion, where the andrenaline that pumped through her was the only thing keeping her from collapsing in defeat and depletion, she still retained her faculties. Though still wide, her eyes flared with a passionate anger so intense that it reached the leafy frame when they came into view. They only laughed at her as she stood with her post at her back, as if she were an accused witch about to break her bounds and flee from the purifying pyre.
She was soon surrounded like a cornered rat. They moved slowly, eyeing each other as much as they eyed her.
It could have been described as a primal sort of roar - the cry of a stronger, more dominant creature - but it did it's scripted job in scattering the others at the same time it encased her in ice. There had been words to it, but they were lost in the echo that bounced against the stones in the walls and road. Alone, she stared into the blackness, clinging to the pole as much as she clung to the light that emanated from it.
The dark is nothing to be afraid of. No child is afraid of the dark itself. It is only what is potentially lurking in that darkness that is worthy of fear. But when he emerged, some of that fear fled with the darkness as the lamp's light encircled him. She was grateful, but only because she had no way of knowing.
I watched in horror as he led her away.
There was a shrub that served as a frame, like a cruder, natural version of the cardboard box turned television crafted by a child. She didn't know she was being watched. She merely stood there, leaning against the lamp post to catch her breath as she hugged her torso with her thin arms. Her skin was flushed from running. I knew that to reach out and touch the glowing flesh would be like pressing these cold fingers to a kettle about to whistle. The air pushed from her chest with each laborious exhalation would surely be like the steam rising from that same kettle's spout. Her eyes were wide with frantic fear, and for good reason. It wasn't hard to guess why she had been running so hard. It wasn't hard to guess why she was here.
Sympathy was hardly an option; there were too many things about her to envy, such as the rise and fall of her chest and the vitality that glowed in her hair and skin even in the unflattering light of the lamp above her. Whatever was chasing her, she must have deserved for some reason or another. She wouldn't be here if that wasn't the case.
They weren't far behind. They could have overtaken her in an instant had they wanted to, but they enjoyed a good game. People - prey like her were as much entertainment as they were nourishment. The chase would not end until her potential for amusement had dried up. It was true of the young and the old, but the old were more subtle. The young did it this way, running down their prey in packs in order to appear more threatening while in actuality only one would be feasting tonight, and he wasn't even here yet.
The sound of their approach was muffled by the roar of the bellows her lungs had become, but they could not hide themselves for too much longer. Her ability to sense danger so acutely was another reason to envy her. Even in her exhaustion, where the andrenaline that pumped through her was the only thing keeping her from collapsing in defeat and depletion, she still retained her faculties. Though still wide, her eyes flared with a passionate anger so intense that it reached the leafy frame when they came into view. They only laughed at her as she stood with her post at her back, as if she were an accused witch about to break her bounds and flee from the purifying pyre.
She was soon surrounded like a cornered rat. They moved slowly, eyeing each other as much as they eyed her.
It could have been described as a primal sort of roar - the cry of a stronger, more dominant creature - but it did it's scripted job in scattering the others at the same time it encased her in ice. There had been words to it, but they were lost in the echo that bounced against the stones in the walls and road. Alone, she stared into the blackness, clinging to the pole as much as she clung to the light that emanated from it.
The dark is nothing to be afraid of. No child is afraid of the dark itself. It is only what is potentially lurking in that darkness that is worthy of fear. But when he emerged, some of that fear fled with the darkness as the lamp's light encircled him. She was grateful, but only because she had no way of knowing.
I watched in horror as he led her away.
Charlotte-Mecklenburg 23 Things: Thing #9
Some of these Things are things to read, and some of them are Things to do.
This last thing was about RSS feeds. This was new to me, but rather than use the website recommended, I used the IE option of making a feed page. It seemed easier - and one less "website" to visit in order to read what I need/want to. Isn't that the point of RSS feeds?
This last thing was about RSS feeds. This was new to me, but rather than use the website recommended, I used the IE option of making a feed page. It seemed easier - and one less "website" to visit in order to read what I need/want to. Isn't that the point of RSS feeds?
Charlotte-Mecklenburg 23 Things: Thing #6
Of all the "mashups" listed on the PCLMC blogpost for this Thing, I found the Trading Card Maker to be the most fun. The mosaic took forever to load, and I saw no other use for the color picker other than a more creative way to browse Flickr.
I can't imagine someone taking the time to make a 50 card deck (since it would seem that FD Toys based the format on Magic: the Gathering), but it was fun to make one.
I can't imagine someone taking the time to make a 50 card deck (since it would seem that FD Toys based the format on Magic: the Gathering), but it was fun to make one.
Charlotte-Mecklenburg 23 Things: Thing #5
I've noticed in my previous "plundering" of Flickr, many photographers (often with the most artful pictures) protect their images. I don't have a Flickr account, so I'm not exactly sure how this is done, but it prevents the random passerby (i.e. me) from simply right clicking on the image to save and use it elsewhere. It makes sense, especially in an age where that average, random passerby sees anything and everything on the interent as fair game. If only people had listened to their teachers and learned how horrible plagarism (i.e. theft) really is.
I have a friend who helped make a wiki for a collaborative writing game. It was a well put-together tool for all of the participants to upload information concerning their own characters and plots as well as refer to information about the settings and themes decided on by the game's moderators. You can imagine my sympathetic chagrin when we discovered her hard work in coding the wiki (making collapsible tables and other nifty gadgets that organized information rather effectively and aesthetically) had been stolen for someone else's without asking or assigning her credit for the work.
I think it is safe to assume that on the internet, if you don't say otherwise, people are going to assume your content originates from you. Sure, it's a silly thing to assume in a world with things like Google Images and Flickr, but I think the academic standard still applies to some degree. Unless you cite it, you stole it.
I should tell you all that the image you see to the right (my avatar for this blog) is from National Geographic, but if you have already ventured to click on it, you might have gathered that already. I should also tell you that the image below is a photograph taken by Thomas Hawk, a Flickr user, and is entitled "In the Jungle, The Mighty Jungle." If you click it, you'll go to his Flickr account (and see it in a larger size).
I have a friend who helped make a wiki for a collaborative writing game. It was a well put-together tool for all of the participants to upload information concerning their own characters and plots as well as refer to information about the settings and themes decided on by the game's moderators. You can imagine my sympathetic chagrin when we discovered her hard work in coding the wiki (making collapsible tables and other nifty gadgets that organized information rather effectively and aesthetically) had been stolen for someone else's without asking or assigning her credit for the work.
I think it is safe to assume that on the internet, if you don't say otherwise, people are going to assume your content originates from you. Sure, it's a silly thing to assume in a world with things like Google Images and Flickr, but I think the academic standard still applies to some degree. Unless you cite it, you stole it.
I should tell you all that the image you see to the right (my avatar for this blog) is from National Geographic, but if you have already ventured to click on it, you might have gathered that already. I should also tell you that the image below is a photograph taken by Thomas Hawk, a Flickr user, and is entitled "In the Jungle, The Mighty Jungle." If you click it, you'll go to his Flickr account (and see it in a larger size).
Charlotte-Mecklenburg 23 Things: Thing #2
One of the blogposts I have been asked to write as part of the PLCMC's 23 Things is on the 7 1/2 Habits of Life-Long Learners.
The seven habits are
1. having a goal in mind at the onset;
2. being responsible for one's own learning;
3. viewing problems as challenges;
4. having confidence in one's ability and competance as a learner;
5. creating a toolbox for life-long learning;
6. using technology to one's advantage;
7. teaching/mentoring others; and
7 1/2. playing.
Looking at the list, I see number six as perhaps the habit I have already adopted or would have no trouble forming. It is rare that I am presented with a question and I do not immediately use every resource available to me in an effort to find its answer. While I was in college, the Online Oxford English Dictionary was a hotlink on my browser, and I was sad when I graduated and lost access to it through my university's library.
It's harder to pinpoint the habit that would be the hardest for me, and perhaps that's appropriate. I think most people could look at a list of habits and see room for growth in every item, or at least I hope that's what most people would see. Of all of these, I think I would struggle the most with number four. Yes, I know that I am an intelligent, talented individual, but in the face of other talented, intelligent individuals, I occasionally either falter and kowtow or attempt to assert my own intellectual prowess. Both are less than ideal reactions, but in a way, doesn't competitive academia hinge on these arguably primal forces? I think I should be able to move beyond this to a more cooperative perspective with time, practice, and mental elbow grease (though brains with elbows are a scary image).
The seven habits are
1. having a goal in mind at the onset;
2. being responsible for one's own learning;
3. viewing problems as challenges;
4. having confidence in one's ability and competance as a learner;
5. creating a toolbox for life-long learning;
6. using technology to one's advantage;
7. teaching/mentoring others; and
7 1/2. playing.
Looking at the list, I see number six as perhaps the habit I have already adopted or would have no trouble forming. It is rare that I am presented with a question and I do not immediately use every resource available to me in an effort to find its answer. While I was in college, the Online Oxford English Dictionary was a hotlink on my browser, and I was sad when I graduated and lost access to it through my university's library.
It's harder to pinpoint the habit that would be the hardest for me, and perhaps that's appropriate. I think most people could look at a list of habits and see room for growth in every item, or at least I hope that's what most people would see. Of all of these, I think I would struggle the most with number four. Yes, I know that I am an intelligent, talented individual, but in the face of other talented, intelligent individuals, I occasionally either falter and kowtow or attempt to assert my own intellectual prowess. Both are less than ideal reactions, but in a way, doesn't competitive academia hinge on these arguably primal forces? I think I should be able to move beyond this to a more cooperative perspective with time, practice, and mental elbow grease (though brains with elbows are a scary image).
Charlotte-Mecklenburg 23 Things: Thing #3
As part of my orientation at the Rapid City Public Library as a Library Associate, I have to go through the Charlotte-Mecklenburg 23 Things - part of the PLCMC Library 2.0 program. Of course, I'm not participating in order to get a free mp3 player or to be entered into a drawing for a laptop. Because I am not a member of PLCMC's system, this blog will not get registered with them (which is actually Thing #4).
I am tempted to also use this blog to hone my writing skills. I recently checked out a copy of 3 AM Epiphany by Brian Kiteley at my local library. (Do you still have to italicize hyperlinks that are also the titles of books? They're already underlined in many cases, and combining underlining and italics in order to denote a title is redundant.) I plan on working through the exercises in 3 AM, so perhaps I will post them here, along with posts from the 23 Things as I am required to do so. Developing my skills as a writer is an example of life-long learning, after all.
I am tempted to also use this blog to hone my writing skills. I recently checked out a copy of 3 AM Epiphany by Brian Kiteley at my local library. (Do you still have to italicize hyperlinks that are also the titles of books? They're already underlined in many cases, and combining underlining and italics in order to denote a title is redundant.) I plan on working through the exercises in 3 AM, so perhaps I will post them here, along with posts from the 23 Things as I am required to do so. Developing my skills as a writer is an example of life-long learning, after all.
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